I Call This Interpretive Dance: Emergence from a Shame Spiral Coma

Yes, it’s sort of unfurling of your cramped up body since you haven’t attended a Pilates class for months cause of the lockdown and you have applied to a million jobs and have gotten NOTHING but REJECTION for OVER A YEAR NOW. And so from the tiny dark place it has been inhabiting for the past month my soul is back in action. I’m getting better and better at this dance each time I go through it. And I’m SO super graceful at it now. This is the third time I’ve been unemployed for over a year within the 30 plus prime years of my working life. So… I have learned over and over again that that when I fall into the Shame Spiral Coma (SSC) of depression and self butchery, when I don’t feel like getting out of bed because what’s the fucking point” When my husband is like “I think you need to leave the house.” and I can’t escape the molasses of self loathing that has been poured all over me. Something always changes. Pretty suddenly usually.

Is this really happening? Within the span of a few weeks I have gone from not wanting to get out of bed, not wanting to plan anything because why bother. It doesn’t matter how many times I go through this. It doesn’t matter that I am fully aware of what’s going on now. I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me. I am a waste. I am a nothing. It will never get better. Everything sucks. The pain is real every fucking time I fall into the SSC.

But within the span of a few weeks, my husband was offered a job back at his old company in a brand new opportunity. With that, he got compensated extremely well. With that, we are planning on buying a new home because we are in a good position to do so. And that is un-fucking-believable to me. How did that happen? Not only that, we have adopted a cat, neigh kitten really, that has melted all of our hearts. Well maybe not ALL. Our cat & dog are still getting used to the idea. Within 15 minutes of getting him home and having him crawl into my lap, I’m pretty sure my heart exploded. We’ve named him Louie for Armstrong because he was found in Louisiana and my husband and I love New Orleans so much. And if and probably when he curls up and cuddles with either Bill our dog or Johnny his other cat brother from another cat mother, I’ve told my husband that I might just spontaneously combust into a puff of smoke and that my life insurance is up to date. Cause of the cuteness overload. Or I’ll just take one million pictures of them and post to Facebook like I always do.

• 

• 

So yes, within the span of a few weeks, I came out of the SSC. I started going to Pilates again. Which made my body feel better. Which made my mind feel better. My husband and I switched out office at home so he could have a fresh workspace for his new position. I also saged both rooms to get rid of any bad juju that might be lurking around. You just never know. You never know. And this weekend, we’re going to look at what we consider to be “dream homes” for us. Our forever home. We love the place we are in, but it’s on the third floor and after 4 plus years, I am OVER carrying heavy things up 3 flights of stairs. I just can’t anymore. Plus having a senior dog, who has to now wear diapers, travel up and down 3 flights of stairs every time he has to go out is cruel and unusual punishment for everyone involved.

Oh, I also have a job interview this week. I think I’m projecting a serious “Fuck it” aura and therefore attracting positive back into my space. Who knows how this shit works? The Universe is a saucy minx who likes to sometimes really fuck with you. And sometimes likes to give you exactly what you want.

Yin Yang… And the Beat Goes on

Art by Milan Loiacono

I sit here in the unusual, Chicago, November 70 degree sunshine; on my lanai with my cat and cup of coffee and for the first time, in a long time, I feel relief. I have encountered too many obstacles in my life that smacked me back into a dark pit where I waited and waited for the light to come again. And each time I was forced to do this, I had to retell myself that light DOES actually come. No really, it does. And no matter how many times that has been proven to me, I still regress to disbelief whilst going through whatever new shitstorm life throws at me. I blame that on my mother who sucked almost all of the positivity out of my body when I was in single digits. So now I sit here and finally, there’s the light again! No, seriously, it’s really the light again. And I feel so good. It’s like a brick layer of fear has been lifted off of my chest. I feel lighter and I can breathe again.

Just having this one bit of life turn in a positive way has given me hope about the possibilities of what’s to come for us. No, Joe Biden ain’t gonna guarantee me or my husband a job, but we can concentrate better on finding one when we’re not worrying that a diseased, petulant toddler is carrying around the nuclear football. Everything that has been dumped on us this year, feels like it happened 800 hundred years ago or 2 seconds ago. There was really no time to let ourselves dwell on being negative or even dwell on what was going on because there was no time in between crises. But we are lucky. We have medical benefits. We own our home and we aren’t worried about paying the mortgage and we can put food on the table. There are millions of Americans on BOTH sides of the aisle who cant. Joe Biden may not be the messiah/magician to fix everything wrong with this country, but I have FAITH that he’s gonna do his best to get this pandemic under control. He’s not gonna withhold relief from states in this country because he’s holding a grudge. He’s not going to go golfing or get in Twitter fights while 240,000 people die in America. I believe he’s gonna give relief to EVERYONE.

Yes, I am a die hard democrat. I was born that way. My mother may have been a negative, bitter, self-esteem crushing little pill, but she was a die hard Democrat and she instilled within us from birth the importance of voting. The first election I can remember staying up late to watch, was when Jimmy Carter won. We were wearing “Carter Flair” peanut necklaces that my mom got us and we watched returns as a family. My dad too. I’m thankful he died before Trump was even a possibility for president. My mother, on the other hand, lived to see it and then spent the last years of her life locked in her apartment glued to MSNBC absorbing every awful news story after news story. She ABHORED Trump. My mother worked for the Jesse Jackson Campaign and she and my sister canvassed for him. When the thought of a black candidate was still “progressive” and the VERY White suburb of Pittsburgh we lived in looked at her like she was crazy. Probably the only thing that my mother and I could talk about before she died was politics. I know she loved Joe Biden since he entered the senate and I know she would be very emotional about Kamala. This would’ve perhaps actually been a day she let herself be happy. Because of my mom, I grew up thinking that a woman could do anything because she always told us that we could. Unfortunately, she also told me to start smoking cigarettes in order to lose weight before my first wedding. So… Yin Yang.

Art courtesy of Jeffrey Cadwallader

I’m learning to find the positive. I’m still fighting the negative. I still wait for the other shoe to drop. But today I breathe easier. I don’t have to take extra anxiety meds. I actually WANT to get out bed. So I’m hopeful for the coming year. I’m hoping that millions of us without jobs find one again, but more importantly I’m hoping that people stop dying in this pandemic. The economy is going to SUCK until we get this disease under control. End of story. I can only hope that the petulant toddler currently in the White House doesn’t burn down anything of value before he’s kicked to the curb.

I feel proud to fly the American flag again. Because come January 20th, there will be logic, compassion, TRUTH and science in the White house again. Plus 2 dogs! And one is a rescue puppy!!!

• 

• 

I’m So Fucking Tired.

courtesy Beth Atkins. BusyBeeHive https://www.etsy.com/shop/BuzyBeeHive

It’s not physical exhaustion. It’s complete mental exhaustion. As someone who has had anxiety for the better part of 50 years, I’ve learned tips and tricks to quell the rise of fear, anguish and despair when faced with situations that foster anxiety. But I’m so fucking tired and I don’t know how much more I can try to quell, ignore or stamp out. I feel like I’m being punched in the face over and over again and just when I try to stand up and gather my thoughts, I get punched in the face again. My husband found out last week that his position was being eliminated and after over 20 years at his company he’s being let go. So now BOTH of us have been eliminated.

2020, as a year, needs to be beaten to near death with a blunt object and thrown off a cliff onto sharp objects and crashing waves below. This year has given me serious PTSD. Actually, We’re getting hit with TSD instead of PTSD. There is no “Post”. It’s ALL Traumatic Stress Disorder ALL the time. Over and over again. There is no time to mourn, there is no time to catch your breath. Its too much all at once, everyday. Job loss, racism, protests, violence against black lives, TWO HUNDRED THOUSAND PEOPLE DEAD from a virus as our president did nothing, and does nothing to prevent more cases. The bastard won’t even wear a fucking mask. The earth is fucking pissed off as well. The entire West Coast is a portal to the fires of hell. The Gulf Coast is being pounded by storms and flooding. Just when you think you can’t take one more thing, Ruth Bader Ginsburg dies. Notorious RBG. GONE. It hit me so hard I just dropped to my knees sobbing in my kitchen. Hopelessness swallowed me up. My heart hurts.

courtesy Beth Atkins. BusyBeeHive https://www.etsy.com/shop/BuzyBeeHive

I’ve been through trauma before and I’ve survived. I mean I’ve been in and out therapy for over 35 years and praise be for modern anxiety medicine and marijuana. I know that there will be light at the end of this tunnel because there was before. I know that I am luckier than most. I’m able to pay my mortgage still and put food on the table. We are healthy. That doesn’t make the shame spiral go away. That doesn’t take away feeling like a waste of space with no purpose.

• 

• 

courtesy Beth Atkins. BusyBeeHive https://www.etsy.com/shop/BuzyBeeHive

Then I feel guilty for wanting to catch my breath. To pause, to gather my thoughts on something before I blurt it out unto the internet. Speaking of guilt, I am SO glad my mother is NOT alive right now. Especially with my husband and I both unemployed and the complete shitshow that is our world right now. Somehow all of our problems would make HER seriously sick with anxiety and then she would complain to me, how MY LIFE was making her sick. There would be no motherly guidance. No wisdom and advice. Just bitterness. Such a bitter little pill that one was. Hey! One more thing to be grateful for. She’s dead.

But I digress. We’re sitting on the precipice of this election. I’m not going into this one blind like I did last time; thinking Hills had it won. I fully believe this country could go to war over the results. WHATEVER they may be. Although I love the color red, I’d like to not live in Gilead. Except, what am I thinking, I would SO be a Martha because I basically ovulate sand at this point. Well actually, because I’m writing this blog, they would try to find me, shoot or hang me. Unless I escape to Canada. Sorry I digress again, but it’s hard not to be scattered. I feel nervous, like I have a knife in my chest, scared, sad, grief stricken, sick to my stomach and hopeless. ALL AT ONCE. Every day.

I just know I’m tired of trauma. It needs to stop. We are all going through this. Unfortunately, we’re gonna have to dig deep, gather, and muster the strength. We WILL be facing a huge fight before us no matter the outcome of the election. We have the closest thing to Hitler in office right now and Hitler is about to appoint Goebbels to the Supreme court so he can keep being dictator. I say all this because I really think the more prepared we are for what’s to come, the better. VOTE. March. Breathe. Take care of yourself. Get strong and brace yourself.

courtesy Beth Atkins. BusyBeeHive https://www.etsy.com/shop/BuzyBeeHive

If you are digging the artwork throughout this blog post, it’s courtesy of one of my most fabulous friends, Beth Atkins. You can find her super cool stuff at https://www.etsy.com/shop/BuzyBeeHiv

J.O.A.T.S. Good or bad?

After 6 months of hearing “crickets” when applying for jobs, I finally got an interview. Ironically with a recruiter who reached out to ME about a position I technically haven’t done in over 20 years. He’s not sure the position is a fit for me, but after hearing my story he invited me to stay in touch with him. Why? Because I’m a “Jack of All Trades” or a “Utility Player” as the recruiter put it.

I became a “JOAT” out of necessity, not by personal choice. Mainly because as I mastered positions within companies, I was laid off. It wasn’t because I was bad at my job, it was because it happened to time perfectly with each of the last 3 economic disasters we’ve had in America. I was on my way to having a career in producing and business affairs. Until I wasn’t, after 9/11. I couldn’t get a job in advertising production to save my life so I landed in PR as project manager. Great! Add PR experience to the resume and everyone needs a project manager, right? 5 years later, the market crashes and spirals the US into recession and bye bye job.

Fuck it, I say. I’m DONE with advertising and PR. I want to make a difference. NON PROFIT. Its just another industry/ position jump. I should be able to do that right? Once again, I land not quite in production, but close enough to make me decide we need to create video in house, saving money and getting better engagement. I cultivate the position and my new skills for 10 more years. Then they decide to “eliminate my position” which was code for you’re making to much money and we’re gonna hire someone younger and for less money once you’re out of here.

So here I sit. I’m 50 now. I literally have over 35 years of “experience.” But what does that mean exactly? I am a business affairs manager, a radio/video/broadcast producer, a project manager, a video editor. Every role I’ve had I’ve used the skills I had gained before. Every position cut short through no fault of my own. But shouldn’t it be great that I have all these different position experiences to dwell on? I think the recruiter WAS impressed with what I had done, but his advice to me was to be clearer about the job or position I want. IE: pick a position, or create 5 different resumes when applying because recruiters aren’t creative and don’t always see the big picture. DEEP SIGH.

Trying to find a job, creating a LinkedIn profile and a new resume after 10 years of employment is a whole other set of skills that frankly, I NEVER wanted to have to use. So… I need to be a self marketing guru if I want to stand out in the ether of all the online applications? DEEP SIGH. So very DEEP. I’m really done tap dancing like a monkey to convince someone to hire me. From now on its just the facts. Take me or leave me, but you’ll respect me for at least what I’ve accomplished. I personally think having someone on board who can adapt to day to day changes big or small and keep going is an asset. I’m proud to be a “JOAT.” Multi-tasking is my super power. Adapting to re-orgs or new hires or Draconian policy changes is “child’s play” for me. So…See MY Big Picture Universe!! Throw this “JOAT” a bone.

I Can’t Breathe.

SAY THEIR NAMES!

When my anxiety takes hold of me, its usually in the form of shortness of breath. I can’t catch my breath and I start to hyperventilate. Its an awful feeling to think you can’t breathe. Its a vicious cycle of panic and anxiety and thinking you’re gonna die. In the midst of a pandemic, social isolation, unemployment and now racial injustice protests and rioting, I’ve been able to remain relatively calm. I think because I can’t do anything to change most of this surreal craziness. Maybe also because I’ve learned anti-anxiety techniques and have been trying to practice them for at least 30 years now. Last night as Chicago hunkered down for another night of protests, it was my neighborhood this time. Suddenly it sounded like a war zone over my lanai. Several helicopters hovering and watching as thousands marched through my neighborhood. PEACEFULLY. Multiple friends were reaching out to me via facebook saying “Stay safe.”

The thing is… I never felt unsafe. I’m a white middle aged woman living in a condo that I own on a fairly safe street in the city. I went to walk the dog last night alone as I usually do. All I grabbed were my keys, my phone and the dog and left. 5 minutes later as we were down our street a ways, my husband caught up with us because he was worried I was out alone. Protests were starting in our hood. It was broad daylight, sunny, breezy. I didn’t even THINK anything of the fact that people were still looting and destroying property in other areas of the city. It just didn’t occur to me to be worried about going outside by myself.

I’ve been pulled over by the cops MANY times in my life because I like to drive fast. I was only worried about how much the ticket was gonna cost. I never worried about being dragged out of my car, or being choked or physically beaten because I was speeding. My parents never had to have a talk with my sister or I about how the color of our skin would affect how we were treated. That’s my white privilege. I grew up in mainly white suburbs until I left to move to a city. One of the things I love about Chicago is that on any given day when I walk down the street or take the train, I am surrounded by people of all walks and colors of life. Several languages are being spoken around me. My Chicago neighborhood is an eclectic mix of people of all colors, ages, gender identities etc…

But even though I feel all of that good for my city I am also aware of the stark differences in neighborhoods and how they thrive or falter. I’m aware of the food deserts on the south and west sides of the city. I’m aware of the disproportionate funding to black and brown schools compared to mostly white schools in the affluent neighborhoods. It doesn’t shock me that people are rioting, looting and destroying things. When Colin Kapernick wanted to take a knee PEACEFULLY, to protest the injustices being carried out against black people by police, he had his career taken away from him. Now when city streets are burning and businesses are destroyed we have the audacity to ask why can’t “they”
peacefully protest? Guess what? “They” did. You didn’t listen because you were hiding behind you’re upset over the national anthem not being sung by a few football players.

I feel helpless and hopeless and useless more often lately. The injustice hurts my heart. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help. I feel paralyzed. We need extraordinary leadership at this time and the piece of shit human being that currently resides in the White House is only fanning the flames. He intentionally tear-gassed peaceful protesters so he wouldn’t have to see or deal with them and could get a photo-op holding up a bible in front of a church. He had the audacity to hold up a Bible. Do you think that Piece of Shit has ever read a passage from it? Feed the hungry, clothe the naked, heal the sick. Do on to others… Does any of this ring a bell?

America will never move forward with a racist toddler holding the position of president. When does his base say, enough is enough? When will his base finally get disgusted with his actions. The man golfs as more than 100,000 people die of Corona Virus within 3 months. Instead of encouraging a lockdown he told a rally that the Corona Virus was a hoax. Thousands of lives could have been saved if we had only taken precautions earlier. Now this president calls for governors to “Dominate” peaceful protesters. He essentially wants the national guard to effect martial law. On every level of humanity, this president fails this country and our people. In order for Black Lives to matter, we need a president who actually believes in that statement as well, instead of shoring up support for white nationalist groups who he considers to be “good people.”

The world as we know it, has ended. We can never go back to the way things were. We need fundamental change that moves us forward. I just hope we get it in November.

The Wisdom to Know the Difference

It’s once again mothers day and I’m seeing all these touching tributes online to mothers everywhere and all I can think is I’m so glad my mother is dead. They say you should learn to forgive. Because living with the anger or pain for the rest of your life isn’t worth it. That’s what they SAY anyway. But forgiveness isn’t an easy thing for me. Especially when it comes to my mother. And she’s been dead for 2 years now.

By the time I was born, my mother was already miserable in her marriage, already hating my father and already a bundle of anxious bitterness. So that’s how I came out of that womb. A tiny ball of anxious negativity. It just hadn’t developed to it’s full extent yet.

Both of my parents were artists so we were exposed to a lot of very cool stuff when we were little that most kids did not get exposed to, mainly art and music. My mother was everything when I was little and my dad was my buddy. She was totally into fashion and could make clothes. My dad always had a camera in his hand and as soon as we were old enough to have some responsibility he stuck a camera in our hands too.

It wasn’t until I was old enough to remember the things she was telling us, that it started to poison my mind against him. I get that being miserable in a marriage sucks, but that’s not my fault as a child. And just because SHE hated him, I didn’t have to. I know that NOW. But back then I was just a little sponge soaking up all the anxious negativity my mother spewed out of her mouth. I have a distinct memory of a time I couldn’t have been more than 6, she called my father who was away on a business trip. We used to talk to him sometimes to say goodnight. Apparently a woman answered the phone. My mother lost her shit. I guess this had happened before. She COULD have put me to bed and then called my father to fight about it. Instead, she had a melt down in front of me about it and then made ME call him back so that I could get the woman. “Ask for your father. Ask your father who that woman is?” she told me. So I did.

Now, I ask you. Why would you make a kid do that? And why would you tell your kids that their father was cheating on you? We did NOT need to know that. Just because THEY didn’t love each other anymore didn’t mean he didn’t love his daughters. It was like she had to pit us against him. She was the victim and he was the monster. She was hurt and I hated the person who had hurt her. We HAD to be on her side. We were the only thing she had, she would tell us. “All I ever wanted was children,” she would say. So I felt bad for her and I protected her and I thought she WAS truly the victim.

My mother had a very schizophrenic way of raising us as far as implanting confidence and self esteem. She considered herself a total feminist and was always telling us that we could be anything we wanted to be because women were just as great as men. Yada yada yada. But the flipside of that was being told you have “thunder thighs” at age 10. Or that you HAVE to color your hair at 12 because it looks mousy and ugly. Or hearing, “You’d be so pretty if you’d just lose a little weight.” You can be anything you want to be as long as you’re pretty and thin. I believed her and I took it to heart. I also developed an eating disorder and a self hatred of my body that has lasted until today. But I digress…

Before my first wedding, She told me I should start smoking cigarettes because it would take away my appetite and I would lose weight. Hell, fuck cigarettes, I should have just started doing heroin. That really would’ve taken the weight off! The insane part was that my mother was serious. She probably would’ve agreed about taking heroin! At my second wedding, my mother pulled me aside NOT to tell me how beautiful I looked on my wedding day, but to tell me she was told by another guest, how beautiful SHE looked. She had already told me she didn’t like the way I had accessorized my dress so I really shouldn’t have expected gushing words of love and praise from her.

Obviously now that I am 50 I can look back on a lot of what happened and realize what was true and what was right. I can laugh and joke now at the total dysfunction of it all, but it took such a fucking long time and a lot of self loathing and self destruction before I realized it. It doesn’t make letting go of the fact that she had manipulated my relationship with my father and manipulated my self esteem for SO long that so many years were wasted in anger at him over THEIR relationship and thinking I was constantly fat and ugly, easy. I shouldn’t have cared about that. But she had gotten her hooks in me and I was brainwashed.

I want to let it all go. I want to be able to forgive and maybe I’m getting closer. I just feel like I lost so much time focusing on things that didn’t matter and the anger about that is still fresh. I feel like the self esteem damage was done a long time ago and that ain’t coming back! All I can do is choose to live my life not being miserable, bitter and anxious. I’m never gonna love my body, but I’m learning to like some parts or at least not care about it anymore. Forgiveness is still elusive, but I’m “woke” now to my mother’s stupid idiosyncrasies.

So kids…don’t take 35 years to figure something out. Don’t let bitterness shrink your heart 3 sizes and turn it black. Don’t let your parents belittle or verbally abuse you. Whatever they are pissed off and filled with regret about…is THEIR problem. Take the best parts of THEM, leave the dysfunction and go be YOU.

5-4-3-2-1…You’re 50. (And not so fabulous)

In 5 days I turn 50. Half a fucking century. Sometimes I can’t believe I’m this old. I’ve been wrestling with what all of this means. I look back on my life and I’m starting to realize that it seems at the turn of each decade I’ve lived through, my life changes in a drastic way. Perhaps this is my fate and my destiny and I just need to roll with it.

However, when you’re 9/10 years old and your parents separate and your mom goes into AA because she’s been drinking heavily for the past several years,your little life turns upside down and in no way do you have the coping skills yet to “roll with it.” First of all NO ONE tells you the truth about what the fuck is happening. All I can remember is my dad and my mother’s boyfriend rifling through the entire house collecting liquor and pill bottles and dumping them down the drain while my mom was being taken away in a strange car with a strange lady. “Mom is sick. She needs to go to the hospital for a while.” Suddenly my dad is full on taking care of us. Something he never did. Mainly because my mother wouldn’t let him. This man who I use to be so close to when I was really little, until my mother got her manipulative hooks into me and poisoned my mind against him. Suddenly this guy is now taking care of us and my mother is gone. My anxiety started very young, like 4 or 5 years old, but it was full blown by now and not explained. I just knew I couldn’t catch my breath sometimes and would get stomach aches.

In my early 20’s I decided to move across the country to get as fucking far away from my family as I could. I had no job and knew only 2 people in Seattle. I thought I had chosen this change so it was all good. But my anxiety got the best of me. I went to the emergency room one night because I was having such a bad attack, I couldn’t breath and I thought my heart was going to stop. I didn’t know what was happening until the flippant ER doc tossed me a paper bag and said you’re just hyperventilating and sent me on my way with still no explanation as to WHY I was hyperventilating? Finally I was diagnosed with anxiety. It took another decade to find the right medications.

Around the turn of my 3rd decade, I decided to live with and then ultimately marry an immature, verbally abusive, loser that couldn’t keep a job. What a catch! I know. Red flags all around and yet I chose this “Change” again, this time. I think I just wanted my own family. I wanted to create something new. The road to hell is always paved with good intentions. We were together for 6 years and only married for barely 2 of them. Suddenly I am getting a divorce and my whole world is imploding. Then I got laid off. Then 9/11 happened. There was an outside entity that was causing way more anxiety and trauma than what I was going through. In an awful way, it gave me such great perspective which I needed to pull myself out of the shame spiral I had been swallowed by. I started to think about choosing positive change after that. I divorced the deadbeat loser, moved to Chicago and started a new life.

The year before I turned 40 started off ok, but I was laid off again. I was alone this time. The market was crashing, everyone was getting laid off and I had to learn to budget down to my last .50 in order to keep my apartment. And my dignity. This time I chose to be positive. I did a ton of writing. I took photographs. I went to museums. I did odd jobs for friends. Spent a great deal of time with my amazing dog and basically tried to figure out how to get my life back. Within a couple months, I found myself going on a first date with a guy I met online. I was sure once I told him I was unemployed he’d completely split. But this guy turned out to be different. We started dating and 6 months later, I finally got hired again and our relationship solidified. Life was great. But the decade wasn’t done yet. My dad passed away suddenly. We had just reconciled a lot of shit and I felt like I was finally having a relationship with him again. I was in a fog. I had just told him I think I wanted to marry my boyfriend and at least my father met him. Within 2 weeks after his funeral, I was engaged and married a year later to someone I COULD build a life with.

I spent the last decade working at a job that I ended up loving after hating it for a while. My husband and I traveled a ton. We finally bought an apartment. We had a mortgage and life insurance like real adults have. We were settled. Things were ok. I was finally making good money and putting a bunch of it into my retirement. We had paid off our debt. But hey, it’s the turn of another decade for me. I should’ve seen it coming, but I didn’t. Because I got lulled into a sense of security and safety. First my husband found a lump in his neck. Of course it was cancerous. He was faced with several months of treatment and recovery. But the good news was that his cancer was totally curable and he only had to endure 2 rounds of chemo, but 6 weeks of radiation. You would think my anxiety would be at an all time high, but shockingly I was relatively calm. I think because I knew he was gonna be ok and I knew he would power through his treatment. I wasn’t scared and we were handling it the best way we could.

Then the job I had loved decided to eliminate my position. I was no longer needed. I got a good severance package but I had to sign an agreement to not sue anyone. Especially for age discrimination which I didn’t understand at first. I took them at their word until I found out they hired someone younger than me at half my salary who is doing EXACTLY the jobs I did before. I gave 10 years of my life to that place and then they “disappeared” me. While my husband was going through cancer treatment no less. In case you were wondering, I am still angry, but I know fully that I am 100% better off not being there anymore. I still have the amazing friends I made there and that’s all I want. So OK, I am unemployed once again. This is second nature to me by now. Only now I’m about to be 50. I never once thought of being discriminated against until now. I’ve applied to tons of jobs and haven’t heard a peep. Why? I’m highly qualified, but now I’m an old woman. I just got my AARP card for god’s sake. And now with this virus, who the hell will be hiring soon anyway?

Just as so many other times, the Universe has thrown a curveball into life that’s bigger than me or any stupid job or any stupid birthday. People are dying. I just found out that a friend from college passed away last weekend from COVID-19 after being in a hospital for 3 weeks. So now I know someone which I was not prepared for. Someone who had just turned 50 and had a family and people that loved him. So once again, I am given perspective. The Universe is telling all of us we have to STOP. We have to CHANGE in order to keep humanity and this earth safe. The Universe does not give a fuck that I am turning 50 OR that I am not gainfully employed. So therefore I’m deciding not to give a fuck either. I have to let things go. I CAN choose how to deal with all of this. Even if I struggle to pull myself out of the mire.

If my husband had to battle cancer, I’m glad his treatments were finished before the virus took over because it saved him from being at a virus hotzone everyday. And if I have to be on unemployment, I’m glad I was already in the system and can continue to file with relatively no issues while millions of other people still haven’t been able get on a website to file. I own my home and so far we are safe and healthy. I just need to get over it, kick myself in the ass and just keep moving forward. Unbelievably, my anxiety levels have been at their lowest through all of this. I mean I’ve definitely had bad days, but I think because I can see it coming now, recognize it and try to thwart it. Realizing there’s nothing I can ultimately do at this point until we get through this somehow calms me a bit. This is 50 for me. Not so fabulous, but still Aces! Because I know a change is coming soon. We will turn this corner and see what’s what around the bend.

Creating Sanctuary: My Love of My Lanai

The last several days have all run into each other. I often can’t remember what day it is. The hours pass strangely. I spend my days doing a lot of laundry and running the dishwasher, yet I can’t find the energy to shower every day or put any kind of make-up on my face. And I love make-up. I apply to jobs but it’s like sending my resume into a black hole or a blazing bonfire. What does it matter right now? Why do I matter right now? I feel like a waste of space. I often start to slide into this Shame Spiral when I’m unemployed. I can actually recognize it coming now. I get mired down in a funk for a few days, then I kick myself in the ass and usually I come out of the tiny dark place in my soul.

When it was time to kick myself in the ass this time, it was luckily also a beautiful day, finally, here in Chicago. A day I’ve been waiting for. There is one more place in our house that we can spend time in, but have had to wait. Until NOW. Time to open “The Lanai!” We bought our place 4 years ago, which is on the top floor of a 3 floor walk-up. “Why? Why would you do that to yourselves, you ask?” Before we bought we had to have seriously amazing reasons to do so, that outweighed having to climb 3 flights of stairs several times a day. Luckily there were several. 2 Skylights, an office for each of us AND an outdoor space. Not just any outdoor space.

I would turn this into my “Lanai”. It would be my outdoor sanctuary in the treetops. When I stepped outside I could feel like I was somewhere either tropical or European. It made me feel fancy and luxurious to say things like, “Let’s have drinks on the Lanai.” Plus, our dog Bill, the best dog in the whole world, is an elder statesman now and I wanted him to have a lovely outdoor space to lounge in, during his golden years. My husband even has his own special corner of the Lanai where our flag hangs. He likes to change out our Chicago Flag for different countries depending on what holidays are happening around the world. I call it “Fun with Flags on the Lanai.”

Clean up Begins

This year, as we are all in lock-down, quarantined away from everybody and everything we love coupled with the fact that I am unemployed, I have loads of time on my hands to make my Lanai EVEN BETTER. Lanai 2.0 I call it. The past few days I’ve swept up, scrubbed the railings, undid and then restrung new outdoor lights. MORE LIGHTS. I have an addiction to shiny sparkly things so string lights have always been a favorite of mine. If I could light a room solely with string lights I would. Wait. I can. On my Lanai! I ordered an additional rug made out of recycled plastic bottles and new planters for the tops of the Columns. Thank you delivery drivers who delivered all of my Lanai 2.0 accessories.

All I need now are plants and flowers which I am somewhat apprehensive to buy. Last year I had to plant, rip out and replant 3 times from April until the end of June because the weather was so completely schizophrenic. But hey, who gives a fuck if I have to plant again and again. I have all kinds of fucking time on my hands and if I’m spending it on my Lanai, I’m in my sanctuary. My terrace in the tree tops. With my awesome dog Bill. And maybe my husband sometimes. And the cat if he’s on a leash because he’s an escape artist. I hope everyone can find their own sanctuary to get through this.

Lanai Conversation Pit – Daytime

Lanai Conversation Pit – Nighttime

Lanai Bistro Section – Daytime

Lanai Bistro Area – Night time

Watchful Bill

Bill Lounging on the Lanai

Lanai Kitty

Pssst! … Do you know where I could score some L’Oreal HAIR COLOR?

I have been coloring my own hair at home almost all of my life. It wasn’t MY decision to start. My mother thought my toe-head turned mousy brown hair was “ugly” and she made me color my hair so I’d be blonde again. I was 12. I thought I’d be ugly if I didn’t color my hair. I mean, that’s what I was told. So the damage was pretty much done then and I am now addicted. Thanks Mary!(my Mother)

After a decade and a half of blonde, I damaged my hair so badly I had to get it cut way short just to make it healthy again. A stylist literally said to me,”It looks like someone has been playing chemical warfare on your head.” That’s when I changed to red. And then eventually a compromise, red with blonde highlights. All I know is that I haven’t seen my “real” hair color in 37 years and I’ll never be mousy brown again.

I found a hair color AND highlighting kit with the perfect shade. L’Oreal 6.4 “Ginger Twist”. I’ve been using this same color kit for probably 15 years now? I got compliments all the time on my color and people would always ask who did it? Even when I was at my salon getting a cut people would ask. Luckily I have a fabulous stylist who doesn’t care that I color my own hair because I do it well. I should. I’ve had 37 years to practice. I LOVED the fact that I paid only $9.99 when it first came out. I remember being “miffed” that the price went up to almost $17 over the years. But then I realized that people who have to pay others for their color were paying almost triple that. So I checked myself.

Now we’re in a pandemic and there are endless posts from women who can’t go the salon or get color who are now going gray and are seriously freaking out. As far as I’m concerned anyone can find a good color and do one tone color at home no problem. So everyone calm down. You CAN color your own hair. You DON’T have to go gray. So I felt lucky. Its about that time for me to color again and I’m all like, guess I should go pick up my color, La dee da. Like everything is right with the world and nothing crazy is happening at all. Then I remembered that the last time I went to buy it, I had to go to 4 different stores to find it. Then I remembered it’s been hard to get for a while now. “Ok calm down, I’ll just order it online. No problem.” Then I googled it and got the news that would change my life forever…Ginger Twist was being discontinued. Surely there’s a box or two somewhere?? Right? Google? Google??

Oh there are boxes all right. But MY color? That specific kind of copper, shimmery, red penny color I love so much is super expensive. Last time I ordered it, it was $17. Now one box was upwards of $75. My beloved color and highlight combo kit is disappearing. There is LITERALLY no other brand of hair color that makes a box that has color AND highlights. NONE! WHY? L’Oreal WHY?? As if I’m not anxious enough? Now I have to figure out how the hell I’m gonna find the color I want online? with highlights??? That gives me luxurious shimmer, shine and tonal color? I am NOT paying someone to do my color. Plus now I can’t anyway. KILLING me.

I decided I can’t deal with that right now so I am pretending it is World War II France and I am part of the Resistance and part of my cover is my red hair and I HAVE to find my color at all costs or else bad things will happen. Whats a spy to do but go to the black market. It was dangerous, but after I typed in the word: e b a y, it took me to the dark underside of the world I was now part of. It was like being in a dark alley with a trickster on every corner taunting you…”Hey baby, you only need one box? I got it for you. Real cheap” “No don’t listen to them little girl. I have best prices and I can give 5 boxes.” I steadied myself and did some quick calculations on which was actually the best price because that’s how I am. I chose the 5 boxes. The rendezvous complete. I was assured I’ll have “the goods” by April 2. I’ll live to be a redhead with highlights for another day. Vive La Resistance!

Actually in reality I paid $32 per box which is $15 more per box when it was a normal product. 5 Boxes. Which will take me through this August. Then I must accept the task ahead of me. Find another color that’s as rich and luxurious as my beloved L’Oreal. I’m prepared for the journey before me. Why? Because I’m WORTH IT!

I Just Want to Wear Pretty Things Again.

Have you heard the Leslie Gore song,”Sunshine, Lollipops & Rainbows?” Because that’s pretty much how I feel when I put on a super fun outfit complete with my favorite: ACCESSORIES. If you’ve never heard said song, please click below so you have a better understanding of the joy and sassiness I experience!!

This happens to me every time I have been unemployed. And I’m sure it’s now happening to millions of people everywhere who are in lockdown; I can’t wear pretty things anymore, DAMMIT! I have no reason. Why bother? Where am I going today? Who will I see? Oh I know, I know…what all the “experts” are saying. Get up as you would, shower, get dressed like you’re going into the office. Do your hair, put on your makeup. How’s that working for YOU? Cause I never last long. First you stop showering everyday. Then you stop bothering with an outfit. Pajamas/yoga pants take “Day into Evening” now. You still keep applying mascara because your iPhone even stopped recognizing you. Until you finally said fuck it iPhone, you better commit this new look to your memory Bitch!

Quite frankly it’s the accessories I miss most. They are the sparkle and the sass that you add to each outfit. I personally, have an addiction to brooches (sounds like roaches.) Brooches are statement pieces. A good brooch is all you need to add a little panache to your life. Just ask Madeleine Albright. She wrote a damn book about brooches called: “Read My Pins: Stories from a Diplomat’s Jewel box.” I have so many now that I finally bought a display case for them. Now I feel like the Queen of England every time I choose one to wear!

My Broach Case.

My other accessory love is scarves. Nothing like a good scarf/brooch combo to make you feel like a goddess. My husband has even embraced my love of scarves and has now taken to wearing them as well. He thinks they make him look European. He even bought me a display “rack” to try and store them. It was a wire dress form that originally I had added each scarf to, one by one, making the form look like she was wearing a dress of many fabrics. But my addiction grew and the poor thing kept keeling over from the weight. Alas she’s now leaned against the corner of my bedroom as if to say I’ll be in the corner until anyone needs me. And my scarves now rest there. Left to NOT adorn me. Poor things.

Sad Scarves.

So that’s it really. I just want a reason to be able to wear pretty things again. And it just feels weird to wear a brooch while walking the dog or putting on high heel boots to feed the cat. The good news is that I know this has happened before and I know this too shall pass (credit: Vicky Hardie, my mother-in-law for that saying.) AND that all of a sudden I will probably be complaining about having to pick out a damn outfit when this all ends. So ying yang people. Good with bad. Light with dark and all that. Etc…Etc.. Carry on. Carry on.