Work work work work work

I have been working too much. Somehow, someway I got myself into a position that should for all intents and purposes be called The Director Of Happiness and Well-being... or the Host at Comet. Who on earth knew that there could be a position that combined problem solving puzzles, people, food and running around like a crazy woman? Well I'll tell you who knew, it was Captain in Charge of the Front of the House. And I'll tell you who said "I want that job!" It was me. ME. I also have the distinct quality of not being able to say no to anyone who calls  me asking for a shift to be covered. So needless to say I've been working non-stop. Now back to the host job. While it is killer on the knees and emotionally draining, there is nothing more satisfying than being able to arrange so some 400 people can drink bloody marys and eat fantastic diner food breakfast in a timely manner over a seven or eight hour period of time. My goal is to maximize the net sales for Comet by making everyone who walks in the door super happy. Therefore the employees are happy and well paid and the business can keep supporting health insurance for the employees and the customers can keep coming in for things with bacon in them. I think it is a win win situation. And now I would like to soak in a hot tub and drink another tasty adult beverage. Uff.

However, I need to take a break. I am woefully behind on the things I need to be doing for other people I have made commitments to. Namely myself and the LIFT organization. Also I am working on an architecture project for Comet that needs to be wrapped up and I am trying to get marginally settled into the apartment in Chicago. And then there is the Secret Supper Club and then the Beer Dinner and so on and so forth. Pretty much life could continue to be excessively wonderful and full of good food, friends and family for the rest of my life but I really need to get a few things done. So I need to take a mini break this week and catch up on a few things. I will start by folding the laundry. And making an appointment to meet with the director of LIFT tomorrow afternoon.

Lent

Last year at this time I was preparing to become Catholic. I had been in the RCIA program since October and was gearing up for a serious month of preparation for the sacraments. It was a private endeavor for me. Only a very, very few people knew I was going through this process and absolutely no one from my family. I decided to give up cheeseburgers for Lent last year because I was a novice, and because cheeseburgers hold a specific spiritual meaning for me. We can talk about that again some other time.

This year at this time I am not surrounded by the community of friends struggling with the desire to practice the Catholic faith, nor the well organized and welcoming congregation of Old St. Pat's in Chicago. I am on my own in a community of atheists, dearly loved friends, but nonetheless not too impressed by organized religion. I have attended holiday masses at the Basilica of St. Josephat and found not a soul to welcome me or note how I look lost and might have some questions. At OSP I wouldn't have wandered for more than two minutes before someone welcomed me and asked me if I knew so-and-so and then, since of course I didn't, proceeded to introduce me. Thank goodness I have one Catholic friend here who I can speak openly about it with. Thank you!

So this year I have decided that I will do a little more for the Lenten effort. I think it will be very beneficial for me and for others if I eliminate procrastination from my regular routine. I have been taking comfort in the security of my situation, allowing myself to relax and not worry too much as I surely will have time to get to this or that. I feel it would be appropriate to stop wasting time. So I am giving up putting things off. Which is nice because my first choice was coffee, and that isn't really practical, now is it? Secondly, I am looking for a volunteer opportunity here in Milwaukee. I would like to include almsgivng in my Lent practice this year. Last year I kept my pockets full of loose change and doled out handfuls to anyone who asked on the street. That was also Chicago and easy to do. Here I never walk or ride the train so I am insulated from the begging world by my car. So I will have to seek out the homeless who need beer money. As for the prayer part of it. If that means holding an inner dialogue with God, then I do that all the time anyway. But perhaps I can find some more sacred moments or make a little more space to meditate this year.

Dear Agt. Triple L

Ok, ok... I understand now. I understand what it is like to go back to your home and all of your old friends and all the things you know like the back of your hand. It is so easy to become the old person, to slip back into the old habits and the easy easy way you used to do it. There was a point at which I started to panic, thinking that my newly grown self was going to go away. And while I hope that it really hasn't, that if I put my mind to it I can pick back up where I left off with the Spanish and the new city exploring, that new self has gone. Much of the work I did in Chicago to get myself on a regular schedule has also subsided. I no longer work out. I no longer eat properly if I eat at all. I drink too much beer and I have stopped going to church. Yet I feel like I am in a tractor beam of the past and I can't move my legs and, gosh, it is so easy to just go along with what the crew is doing. I don't even have a 9-5 job to keep me in line.

Here's the thing, though. I love my girlfriends who I have dearly missed. They are still doing wonderful and amazing things and I am a lucky woman to be in their presence again. Also, I am very very lucky to have a place to live and some work to work. I agonize over how random it is, but I am so grateful to have the opportunity to work. I have also found a place called home. It is where my heart is. I try not to let it blow my mind when I think about it but it still blows my mind anyway. So with all of these good things, what is my problem? I should be happier and more on top of my game than I have been in years, right? This should be the easiest most fulfilling life right here and now and yet I struggle with the new emotions and the old scene. I struggle with what I should be doing and what I actually am doing.

So I will remember how you did it, how you do it. I will make a goal and write it down. I will create a list of tasks needed to accomplish what I want to accomplish and I will make it happen. Your dedication and drive has taken you very far and I admire that. I just want to let you know that I am sorry for not giving you more understanding regarding spending time at home. I hope that you find yourself where you want to be again soon.

Sincerely,
SRP

Where was I?

Oh yes, back in Milwaukee. It turns out I am not the person I was when I left here. I am new. New-ish. Or bigger, more mature and more confident. There are parts of me that don't fit here anymore. There are things I do not wish to partake in and there are skills I have that I need to use before they atrophy. But here I am, cooling my heels, not being a real part of this, not accepting my role. Here I am waiting for something else to continue, not claiming ownership, not investing, not moving forward.

My trip to India has been postponed. The delay is due in part to a fund-raising event in Chicago, difficulties in communication and the way the world just doesn't always work the way you think it is going to. In addition to these things my sister is getting married the day before Easter and so I will stay here until then. I don't want to miss out on this gathering. And so it goes that I will now be spending Easter in Pittsburgh with my family instead of on the beach in Goa. And this rite of passage, this anniversary, this turning point I had set for myself, the day I was to return... is now the day I embark. So be it. But man am I feeling lost and tired of waiting. I am not moving here. Milwaukee is stasis. Milwaukee is beautiful. The frozen landscape is so rich and poignant against harsh winter sunlit skies. It is chalky and cream colored against a navy blue sea (Lake Michigan is definitely a sea) or it is dark and smoky against a choppy pale sea. I want to take photos of this place. But it doesn't move me. Milwaukee is home. I made it thus and it has been confirmed by others. Yet I long to move away and find something else. Wait! I did that already. Why am I back here again?

Oh yes. There is a reason.

A Very Merry Unbirthday

I have been thinking about writing something here for several days now, but every time I open a blank page I remember something more important I needed to do. Like right now I am supposed to be eating a snack to tide me over until dinner and/or putting on makeup so I can leave the house. What I really want to be doing though is perfecting the chevron pattern for my crochet project so I can make that afghan I've been dreaming of for years.

(Note: I wrote this on January 22, the day before my birthday and actually got up to do those other things without finishing and posting. Sigh...)

01.10.10

The days are passing so quickly and yet the concept of dates on paper means so little to me these days. This one is interesting because it is rather binary. Dontcha.

I have been working. HA. Working. But it doesn't seem like working right now because it feels more like helping out some very loved family. And so the hours are not long, and the favors are not too big to ask and I will always say yes because I am safe here and it will always be ok. It is very different working for people who mean something to you. Ha ha! It is also full of trial and error. I am so passionate about things sometimes. They have to be PERFECT and RIGHT and I bump my head against the established business philosophy and the routine that has been in motion for much longer than I have been a part of it. I feel like I am out of line suggesting improvements to service and flow, and then at other times I am ready to fire someone for a minor infraction. I, however, have no power to hire or fire anyone so what right do I have getting indignant? None. But I shake my fists in the air nonetheless. And then I realize that it is just my job to help and that the more humble I am, the better everything will work. [Insert a little more fist shaking here] GRIN.

At home now after a brunch shift and I just fed the panthers so it smells like panther food in the house. The candles I lit are making no headway in masking the odeur. I bought a beer I don't like very much. I usually request that the bartender on duty suggest a flavorful option, but tonight I was on my own in a sea of micro-brews at the Whole Paycheck without a beer geek to help me out. It is amazing how the Craft Beer movement  has exploded in the last few years. Craft Food is gaining in popularity and force as well due to wonderful restaurants like those here in Milwaukee (Honeypie and Comet, Sala da Pranzo and Beans & Barley amongst others) who make it a point to purchase meats and produce from local farms and use high quality ingredients coupled with high class service in comfortable and affordable environments. This is one of the many reasons I love Milwaukee... and is one of the things I hope to be a part of in my life, if I am able to make a difference in  how people live. For the better.

As for India and travel plans, things are coming together slowly. I imagine that it will all happen at once. In one fell swoop I will book everything and pack my bags and be gone in a swirl of nervous energy and perfume (last chance to spritz with anything other than DEET for a while) and leave not much other than some really long blonde hairs and a sweater or two. And my heart? I am supposed to take my heart with me. It was left open and beaming almost a year ago when the object of my fire-hose style loving decided I was no longer needed and I decided that I WOULD NOT turn down the volume for anything. Enter the good children of LIFT who would infinitely benefit from it, far much more than any one man. And now here I am in Milwaukee and the quiet, uranium-like radiation by-product of my major focus has seeped into the home I am living in. For the first time in a year I am starting to feel attached, something I worked very hard not to feel for an unspecified time of transition. It makes me say "hm" and smoosh up my face into a grimace of quandry. Hm. HM.

And now I think I will do some writing with a pen instead of keys. Good night all, sweet dreams.

Act 2, Scene 1

It is interesting to be back in the vicinity of many people who happen to read this blog. As I am visiting with friends they mention things they have read and request the follow-up story, or the behind the scenes details on the little nuggets I provide in type-form here. I hadn't realized how oblivious I am to my readership. I just write like I always have, in a rambling dialogue to myself. Credit should go to Laurie Oliver who introduced me to the concept of journal writing when I was in sixth grade. She had a marble composition book, I think... if I remember correctly, and simply opened my eyes to the fact that I could write my thoughts down on paper. Just like that. We were sitting on the hillside by the dam at Aldeen park in the sunshine, a few of us lounging about probably skipping school, and the discussion about journals came up. I recall asking some incredulous questions such as "really? you just write down whatever you are thinking? you don't need a subject?" I must have been overly influenced by my smarty pants creative english classes or somehow hemmed in by the preconcieved notion that keeping a diary was supposed to be the dutiful logging of daily events (which is why it is called a diary). How binding. Laurie unlocked the door on that one and freed me to just ramble and ramble in spectacular ink on pretty bound pages of boring office supplies. Oh gleeful JOY!

The real point here is that I found out that my mom is reading it. Hadn't thought about that, but honestly now that I know, I am surprisingly very happy about it. I mean, she sleuthed the song lyrics in a previous post and is now familiar with the political rants of Public Image Limited. Dontcha. My aunt is also reading and sends occaisional breif words of support and wisdom when it seems to her like I am struggling. And yes I did go see mom last weekend. Two of my dearest Milwaukee friends found time to read this blog together while out one evening. I love that and I am jealous of their iPhones. Another anonymous reader told Santa Claus about the fountain pen I was pining after... There are other stories of encounters like this that make me smile and think. Thank you all for checking in.

Ok, what I really wanted to talk about here is the fact that it finally feels like chapter one of this adventure is wrapped up. Perhaps the first act of my entire life has just come to a close with a beautiful scene revolving around a dinner with my mom and one of her closest friends. I imagine the thick velvety curtian closing and blowing the snow around in little swirls, leaving a silence and a cosy backstage for me to snuggle up into and change out the scenery. These days behind the curtain have been filled with the sweet luxuries of the most divine royal existence you can imagine. Delicious feasts, showerings of gifts, downy cushions, plush velvets, magical and exotic entertainment, rejuvinating baths set to dreamy music, swedish massages, luxurious pet panthers and the unshakable feeling that I may in fact be a princess. In truth I am a girlscout and am itching to get my hands dirty. Today seems like the day that the curtain rises on Act 2. Time to get a move on the first adventures in making things and going places. Hot cha.