Official: Woman mulls hike in hope

"I got a peaceful, easy feeling,
And I know you won't let me down,
'Cause I'm already standing
On the ground."

-- Peaceful Easy Feeling, Eagles



I really have no idea what has gotten into my dad.

Suddenly he's not yelling, he's talking to/about Zoe like she's a 4-year-old instead of the devil, and he's even PLAYING with her!

He came home from work today, and I bet he was really tired because he had to put her to bed at 8 and get up at midnight, but he came in all sing-songy and fed her lunch and waited patiently until I got up before he took a nap. I actually just laid in bed thinking: Who did what with my dad??? And I even got up earlier than I planned and found him a bit pleasant to be around.

It could be that today is the last day he will have to deal with the little rugrat on a regular basis: I start back on days next week. Or maybe some of the family (his sisters mostly) parading through here during the past week have listened to him bitch and offered him some advice.

I don't know, but he's a different man. Even after his nap, when he can be his crankiest, he pulled a blanket over his head and came in acting like a ghost. Zoe was laughing from her gut! And when Zoe knocked the drapes off the wall, it didn't seem to faze him, as far as I could tell.

When I made my nightly call from work, he just said, "We were playing catch and we knocked the box off the table that had all her barrettes in it, and she's picking them up now." I don't know what surprised me more, that he wasn't mad that she made a mess or that he was playing with her. And when I got home, the kitchen was clean.

Who took my dad?? Whoever did, keep him. I like this one!

I'm looking forward to working days. MAN, am I looking forward to it. There's so much good about this publication, and yet so many little things here and there I see I can do just to make people's lives at work a little easier. I wanna play effiency expert, but I have two big projects on my plate at the same time. I always hated it when someone said, "We'll get that done," and then you don't hear from them for months. I'm so afraid of doing that to the night desk... after I hear myself saying the same thing over and over.

"We'll get that done."

I'll get it done. I have to. And I'll have a yummy four-day weekend to feel guilty about taking time off already. :)

CHIA PET PROGRESS: None. It's been two days. So, we put a bag over it. We're suffocating the poor thing!

Who let the dogs out?

"Dream, when you're feeling blue.
Dream, that's the thing to do.
Just watch the smoke rising, rise in the air;
You'll find your share of memories there."

-- Dream, Roy Orbison


Only two more days on nights!!!! I've set a deadline: I'm going to start looking for my own home within a month. I should be able to swing it, paying off my moving debt and winding up the child support crap.

My dogs ran away again today. I spent the afternoon either driving around looking for them or looking out the window, down the hill, hoping I'd see them trotting back. They ran away yesterday when my sister let them out, and a couple driving home from taking their own dog to the vet for emergency surgery put them in the back of their car and brought them to us. I felt so bad when I saw the back of their car, but they dismissed the muddy mess as nothing. I'm glad they had leather seats so they could at least wipe it clean.

My dad found my dogs today. I had to get ready for work, so he took a turn in my car, and he found them down in the woods.

I do not have leather seats. And it's quite muddy out. My car is.... disgusting. I've been driving a co-worker home after work and I had forgotten that my car was all doggy, and when we opened the car, I had to take a step back. OH MY. I explained the smell to her and listened to all her dog stories the whole ride home.

I'm glad she's not a cat lover.

It makes me mad that the pups think my dad is in charge now. When anyone else tries to discipline them, (or let them out to pee!) they don't listen. It's not my dad's fault, but shit, I don't need to wake up every day to chasing after missing animals. And when I get my own house, will they listen to me again? (Oh wait, did they ever??)

All this driving around the neighborhood has given me a glimpse of for-sale signs on houses. There aren't a lot of them, so they do stand out to me. I am sooooo hungry for my own house. And there are some really nice ones I can afford. I'll have so much space I'll get lost in my own house...

I have a four-day weekend coming up... it looks like one of those days will be spent scrubbing down the mutts and cleaning out the car. I'll certainly remember to put blankets in the car afterward.

Maybe another day will be spent finding a real estate agent.

Ch-ch-ch-CHIA!

"You, of tender years,
Can't know the fears that your elders grew by,
And so please, help them with your youth,
They seek the truth before they can die."

-- Teach Your Children; Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young



Christmas was great, except that my brother was really sick. His wife dragged him over half-dressed, and he remained on the couch all night, even to eat. I feel horrible for him. Ever since his car accident a few years ago, he's had horrible health problems. I called over there this afternoon and Jen said he didn't get out of bed for more than five minutes. Dad called tonight and said he got no answer.

I worry about that kid. A lot.

Zoe had a great Christmas though. She got a Leapster from her dad, and she totes it everywhere. And she got her elephant Chia pet from Uncle Rob and Aunt Jen! It's soaking in a bowl of water now, so we'll apply the seeds tomorrow. I have never been able to keep a Chia pet alive, let alone get it to flourish to half its potential, so I'm really sad to see my sister, Kelly Green Thumb, leave tomorrow. I'm going to have to get Aimee to come over regularly to take care of our Chia, since she insists it's so freakin' easy.

Zoe is excited about it. "You can watch it grow with me, Mommy. Ch-ch-ch-CHIA!"

Ah, advertising.

At work the other night, we had the annual awards ceremony. One of the awards was for best newcomer. LOL. Of course I didn't get it, but I think I dreamed that night that I did. Later in the evening they sent out a list of the winners and even the nominees, which I thought was a great idea, to let the nominees they were on a short list, even though they didn't get the 500 bucks.

Well, that was, hmmmm... Thursday maybe? Well, we get an amended email today, saying that the first email failed to include all the nominees. Wouldn't you know it, I open the damn thing, and my name is in it. Not for best newcomer, but for best design.

I've only been there a few weeks! I haven't seen a project to completion yet and I've done only three completely original A1s! I am not going to gloat, I am not going to even take it with a grain of salt. I'm going to ignore it and think about ... whose ass I kissed so I can get on the winner's list next year!

Ha, I jest. I am humbled and honored and shocked. I guess hearing from my dad (now on a 24-hour basis) how lazy I am...





Being back here, I'm starting to realize why I stayed away for so long. My sister relays to me that Dad tells her too how worthless I am. I made stuffed cabbages for dinner the other night, and my dad told me to get my aunt's recipe because mine sucked. "Don't you know that's why Rob threw his away?" I wasn't even aware that Rob threw his away.

Dad told my sister on Christmas that her potatoes were "OK." She practically reeled from the compliment.

I do need to get Zoe away from my dad too... he's already telling her that he will do nothing for her if I'm in the house. "Go ask your mother, I'm not on duty," he barks. And I overheard him telling her he doesn't want to watch her, it's not his job to baby-sit her for hours on end, that's not what grandparents are for. I hear him telling this to my 4-year-old. He won't tell it to me, but he'll tell it to her.

I wish there was somewhere else I could go. But I am back on days next week. Zoe has a new preschool she starts then. And let the house-hunting begin!


--------
"Teach your parents well,
Their children's hell will slowly go by.
And feed them on your dreams,
The one they pick, the one you'll know by.

Don't you ever ask them why;
If they told you, you will cry,
So just look at them and sigh,
And know they love you."

-- CSNY

Ho, ho, ho

Zoe welcomes home Aunt Kelly.


My sister Kelly came in from Syracuse yesterday right before I went to work. Apparently she went with my father to get a tree while I was gone, and they didn't tell me about it until this morning. So we have a TREE! Granted, it's a fake one, and I'll have to tear it all down in a week (or leave it up until March, like Pittsburghers are known to do), but it's great that Zoe got to decorate a tree. It was important to me, and I'm glad it was important to Dad and Kelly. Or at least to Kelly. Dad just complained that it was a crappy tree.

Most of the ornaments we dug out of the attic were ones my mother made. Some we made as kids, and I hadn't seen them in years either. Next year I'll make ornaments with Zoe.

We made some great finds in the attic: Kelly found (and staked a claim on) a beautiful Christmas tree platter that I don't remember at all. And there were some laugh-out-loud finds, such as disfigured Santa candles and tinsel garland that was missing much of its tinsel. But someone still packed them back up and put them in the attic!

We aimed to make a tree that was as not tacky as possible, but Dad bought new tinsel, so..... there ya go. :)


Zoe helps her Aunt Kelly set up the tree.



"The sun is too bright," Zoe says.


It was a beautiful day outside too. Incredibly sunny and somewhat warm. I can kiss that snow goodbye for now. Everyone's bitching that there won't be a white Christmas. I'm used to it, and I couldn't care less. It is my first Christmas with all of my family in many, many years. I hope we don't kill each other. :)

We tracked Santa online beginning in the afternoon and ran a few errands, visited some family ... I missed most of the Steeler game, and my dad nearly reprimanded me for it. The game was a shut out. I'll hear about it constantly on the news and in passing conversation until the next game, so I really didn't miss anything. (I never thought I could get sick of hearing about the Steelers.)


Kelly and Zoe find Santa's location on the NORAD Web site. By evening Mr. Claus was already crossing the Atlantic from Europe.



Zoe prepares cookies and milk for Santa.


After Zoe finally went to bed, Kelly and I did last-minute wrapping and crammed everything under the tree. Dad sat in his easy chair bitching that we were in the way of the TV. I asked him: "When we were kids, did Mom do all this stuff while you sat on your ass?"

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "No, I had to put shit together."

We don't talk too much about it, but we all miss Mom.

I can't wait to get up in the morning. I finally opened all the boxes of gifts that arrived in the mail for Zoe and put them under the tree with everything Santa left. She scored big time! It appears I scored a little too! We'll find out tomorrow.

Merry Christmas to all! And happy Hanukkah too!


Zoe and her mom.

On your feet

"The road goes on forever
and the party never ends."

Robert Earl Keene



I've really taken a shine to checking out people's shoes. I've worn sandals almost constantly since Zoe was born more than four years ago. In fact, I've worn the same pair of sandals for most of those four years. I have another pair I threw in once or twice a week to shake things up.

No sandals here, so I've been looking around to see what the poor saps living in cold weather wear.

What I've noticed in Pittsburgh: They have old shoes.

I was starting to wonder if shoes were so expensive here that people didn't buy them often. Or if people at my work just weren't paid enough to afford new shoes. I saw a shiny pair on feet here and there, but mostly I've seen tattered and battered soles on most.

I bought four pairs of dress shoes for work when I got here. The two pairs I favor, after only three weeks of wear, going from the house to the car and from the car into work -- both short distances -- well, my two favored pairs now look like I've owned them for years. With all the ice and slush and salt and mud.... ICK.

I quickly came to the conclusion that people wear their yucky shoes in winter. I'll test this theory come spring. Until then I'm shopping at Payless, if I even bother to buy more shoes at all.

As I was driving home tonight, stuff kept hitting my windshield. As a rookie snow driver, I could surmise only that it was salt or some shit on the road. About halfway home I realized it was chunks of ice flying off my hood. Another funny observation: My car makes new noises. And not new engine noises, but creaks and cracks and stuff like that, in the frame itself. After I climbed into my car tonight (shivering my ass off) I heard a slow, painful noise that convinced me one of the windows must have cracked.

No damage that I can see.

It was a whopping 12 degrees when I got home. I hope someone has a pair of thermal gloves for me under the tree because mittens ain't cutting it.

Foto fun

I finally took the time to figure out how to post photos. So here's some.


Zoe picks up snow for the first time!



Though Zoe and the dogs love the snow, Zoe's legs are chapped from the cold and the pups have bleeding paw pads. :( Me, my nose won't stop bleeding!




Uncle Rob takes Zoe sledding in his back yard. Next we'll do the intermediate hill at South Park... so big, you can only tolerate two or three hikes to the top in a day!




Pap Pap (my dad) drove his truck home on a break and Zoe checks it out.



The front street immediately after I drove home from work Thursday night after about five inches fell.


Today I plowed gently into a snowbank (I have to admit it was kinda fun) and later I got stuck at the bottom of the hill from Dad's house after going for dinner at my aunt's house. I made him come fetch me, and he managed to get the Jetta up the hill. "You don't know how to drive!" he says. I'm lucky though, I watched two cars today slip past me sideways, and I have no idea how they missed hitting me or something else.

I asked Dad after we got home if we could go get a Christmas tree. "ARE YOU CRAZY??" he yelled?

Bwaaaaahahahahahahahah! I guess he's had too much time off from me.

Safe... and sound?

My first experience driving in snow happened in the middle of the night with five inches of the crap already on the roads with no plows or salt trucks in sight.

F#%^$#% $%df7%$ F**^%&^$ #$^#$ $#h^/. F%2D#^ [bleep] sk324@$#% @#$fqRq4F DFE434 [censored] W$dg34#@$ $f Dr4r3t#$%^/. Hmph. Grrr. @$^#.

More on this in the next blog.

Beep, beeeep

I am learning quickly the nuances of driving in Pittsburgh. One of my favorites is the art of honking; I'm not a fan, but it's considered mostly polite and necessary in this town. Here's a primer.

THE QUICK HONK
In Florida: "Go stupid, the light is green."
In Pittsburgh: "Hey, thanks for squeezing onto that guy's yard on this side street so I could get by first, even though I waited five minutes for you to go first."

TWO QUICK HONKS
In Florida: "You're drifting into my lane, stupid. What's that blinking on the side of your car?"
In Pittsburgh: "Thanks for letting me go when it wasn't my turn. That was swell."

THE LONG HONK
In Florida: "Go stupid, the light is green and I'm in a hurry!"
In Pittsburgh: "Hey man, get out here, the bars close at 2!"

MULTIPLE ANNOYING HONKS
In Florida: "Get off your cell phone and drive!" ("I'd be there by now if this ass in front of me would get off the phone! OK, bye." Click.)
In Pittsburgh: "Hey man! I haven't seen you in a month! Call and we'll go grab a beer and some pierogies!" (Works for both fellow drivers and pedestrians.)

SHORT HONK, FOLLOWED BY LONG HONK
In Florida: "Get out of the fast lane, stupid Canadian!"
In Pittsburgh: "Get out of the fast lane, stupid Floridian!"

The newbie: Week two

"It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas
Toys in every store
But the prettiest sight to see
Is the holly that will be
On your own front door."

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas -- Bing Crosby



I've been doing A1 for two nights.

Not 1A. That's A1. And I have to fill in jump page numbers manually, so you can imagine how many of those I fuck up. Not only that, I have to fill in FOLIOS. Pages and dates. I had Dec. 6 in all mine tonight. What an ass I am.

I used to be so great in Quark. I mean, I knew every quick key and could do a project with my eyes closed. Anyone who knows how anal I am knows this is bugging the shit out of me. I'm expected to edit copy too and just didn't find a moment tonight. Grrrrr.

GRRRRRRR.

I really thought they'd just have me sit with someone, but they threw me right in. Was it a test? Or desperation? Or did no one check my resume??? I'm sure I had "anti-1A control freak" in there somewhere. Who knows, I'm enduring it, and sometimes I amaze myself. What I'm doing is not great, but I'm getting it done.

OK, enough newspaper talk! Work in general is great. It's demanding, but the people are funny and I'm finding that my goofy sense of humor is not lost on people here. And not everyone is from here; the guy next to me tonight was talking about the Redskins. And I didn't want to be the new kid talking about "my old paper," but a lot of people do it.

Zoe is doing great. She wonders why Daddy isn't picking her up to take her to the beach, but otherwise, she's really enjoying it here.

I think both of us feel like it's just a vacation. As if we'll be back in Florida in no time, with our regular friends and our regular routine. I think I'll let that denial get me through the hellish night shift I have to get through for training. Looks like I'm on it for only December, which is good.

I'm really excited about getting Zoe back into school. And we're looking forward to the holidays -- at home. My sister will get to come home, so with my brother and his wife, we're all having Christmas Day together. I talked my dad into getting a real tree ("Them's a fire hazard if you don't red up after 'em en'at!) so we're decorating this weekend. I can't wait!

Photos to come -- I learned how to upload them to the blog the other night. That is, if I can find out where I packed the battery charger for my camera. Grrrr. :)

Let it snow

"Oh, mirror in the sky,
What is love?
Can the child within my heart rise above?
Can I sail through the changing ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?"

-- Stevie Nicks, Landslide

My weekend got off to a good start.

My first major project at work was kind of "stolen" from a guy who has been doing it for many years. I was coached how to handle him ("He's not exactly pissed, but... he's pissed.") and went my own way, knocked out a few prototypes, and man, do I wish I had the email on hand to copy here... the one he sent to dozens of people gushing. Now, before you think I'm bragging, I should note that I sat through a presentation of past issues and knew it wouldn't be hard to one-up them. And I turned in something quite ordinary.

But he circulated my name via email throughout the company, which made me feel great. And I made the reportedly "difficult" editor very happy, and if he's as quirky as they say he is, I probably scored a few extra points.

Speaking of points, the damn Steelers lost. They didn't even try until the end. The people here take their football seriously. And they are so pessimistic, as if they paid Cowher's salary. It's funny to observe though, something I've always noticed when I called home on Sundays when I was in Florida. "We should have ran [sic] the ball," or "We shouldn't have a false start on offense." my dad would say. I have been to my brother's house for the past two games and listened to his friends badmouth my Steelers constantly... I'm gonna stay home next week and we'll see if they win. Wow, those superstitions took hold again pretty quickly. :)

I drove in snow for the first time today. I turned onto my brother's street and suddenly, there was snow. Other streets had been cleared. I slid, I slipped, I parked. My brother made fun of me for taking up three parking spaces after driving on snow for 20 feet, and he re-parked my car. Later he warmed up my car and turned it around so I could drive out. Hey, it was on a hill, what can I say.

My brother and I played in his back yard with Zoe today then walked through the cemetery behind his house. Most of the graves nearest his house were from the 30s and 40s. Many headstones were in another language, I'm guessing Polish. One thing that strikes me now is that... that is something I would never see in Florida. The history. The richness. There were graves of people who died in 1918 with fresh flowers on them.

I was reminded that I have to go visit Mom's grave. There are so many pictures and memories around the house and the city, and Zoe keeps telling me she wants to get a new mom for me, LOL. I'm quite happy with the one I have, I keep telling her. Even with all these sad memories overwhelming me, I'm happy.

I want to believe I'm where I belong.

Kiss Kiss....

"High up above or down below,
When you're too in love to let it go,
But if you never try you'll never know
Just what you're worth,
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones,
And I will try to fix you."

-- Coldplay, Fix You


I'm finishing up my first week of work. It's been great. I was rather bored my first day, but I dug in my second day (my boss called in sick so the other designers gave me stuff to do). I landed a big project today and for the meeting even wore a suit to work... and HEELS! My former co-workers would be proud. If they recognized me under all this makeup. :)

I made a few friendly connections, including a single mom with a daughter the same age as mine who moved recently from Tampa. THE editor introduced us; I thought that was downright homey of him. And she's a cops reporter willing to associate with a designer. I have so much unlearning to do, LOL.

I fell in love with this town only after I moved away for college and have been nurturing an affection for it for the past 15 years. I swear, when I came back for visits, it was like romance. I would beam every time I saw the city skyline, take pride that I knew my way around her roads, and just gush about her to anyone who asked.

Well, now that we've moved in together, it's truly a battle of wills. Hello, city planning anyone? Construction... the myths are NOT myths. All those Pittsburgh jokes my family fowarded to me over the years are ALL TRUE. I am scared to drive anywhere because Expedia maps can't keep up with closed roads. And the weather... ahh, this refreshing weather. On the way home I heard on the radio: few snow showers, no accumulation. There's two inches on my fucking car right now. Leave my car alone! She had nothing to do with this!

I'm dealing with it. Dreading it, but dealing with it. I'm enjoying it slightly. When I leave work and skirt the downtown area and see that skyline... I still beam. I'm still proud. I feel like an outsider, and I probably will for a while. The newsroom has made me feel at home, and I'll probably get used to them sooner than I will settle this romance with my old flame: Pittsburgh.

And I do have to say, after about a month off between jobs, I'm so happy to have a conversation with anyone who knows the meaning of broadsheet, pica or ROP. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Life spent

"This could be the saddest dusk I've ever seen
Turn to a miracle, high alive
My mind is racing as it always will
My hand is tired, my heart aches
I'm half a world away here
My head sworn to go it alone"

Half a World Away, REM



I was a little depressed today and stayed in bed until the afternoon. I got up and started dinner and was bored and didn't want to unpack anymore.

I just kept telling myself: I'll learn my way around town, It will be my city again, I'll get my own house, My job will be great....

My family is just short of falling all over themselves to help me... and I hate to impose, and when I tell them I'm looking through a service for a baby sitter they are appalled...

That I wouldn't turn to them I guess. I want to and I feel bad. I haven't been there to help them for 15 years, and I never expected them to help me. But this past week, I was reminded a lot about why I miss my family.

I can't possibly be self-sufficient for some time and I'm so very very grateful; I should be all warm and fuzzy inside and I AM, but I'm sad because ... just that ... oh Christ, I don't know. That I even left in the first place? I missed so much, so many births and weddings and new homes. The local convenience store (where I used to work) started ordering my favorite stuff already. Today I got a Christmas card from an old neighbor who learned I was in Pittsburgh!

DAMN. To say Pittsburgh is a big family is like an understatement. My brother Rob said he didn't fill some prescription because his wife is friends with a girl who got the same prescription from another person who could get it to him for free. People here just help each other, for free, no strings attached, you ask and it's done.

Why am I depressed? I ask myself too. 10 years of Florida has made me so skeptical and cynical and tough-skinned compared to the people here. And I don't know my way around, and it's no myth that Yinzers give directions by what used to be there: "Remember where the Isaly's used to be?" No, I don't remember. Did I ever know?

I grew up in Pittsburgh. Or did I? Somehow I think I missed out on a big part of growing up here by not being here as an adult, skipping 15 years of changes. Half my life.

Spent well though. Spent very well.

And I miss Mom. I didn't think that I'd think about her so fucking much.

Happy Turkey Day!

NOTE: OTHER PREVIOUS ENTRIES TO BE ADDED AS TIME ALLOWS; LIVE ENTRIES BEGIN HERE, Gobble gobble.
"When are you going to come down
When are you going to land
I should have stayed on the phone
I should have listened to my old man."

--Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, Elton John

Great Thanksgiving. Got caught up with family. Didn't see my daughter most of the night... in fact, I was the only one of my cousins who kept checking on the kids. Dammit, I had a childproof family here all along!! :)

I was ironing tonight when I hit a brick wall. It's hard to explain.... and it had nothing to do with Thanksgiving I think... but maybe it did, having all that family in the same place at once....

My dad threw me a couple of his shirts to iron, and I used to iron his crap all the time in high school, after my mom died, or maybe my mom made me do it before she died, that would be like her, LOL, I just don't remember... I don't know. You can see where this is going.

SHIT. I was just ironing this stupid shirt of my dad's and I haven't ironed seriously in ages, and then all of a sudden a Cult song is playing on my computer and I break down and I don't even know why, and at first I'm thinking it's because I used to be good at ironing and now I suck. Then I remember my first potential boyfriend was Brian Zahler and I don't even remember how I met him and I never really liked him and I know I've never been to his house but my parents used to tell me he traveled a long way on his bike to see me.... well, he gave me a Cult tape. I remember him playing it for me on my radio that was plugged in the driveway one summer while I was washing my dad's cars.... and he came to see me once when it was icy out ... like it is now...

I still have it. That Cult tape Brian Zahler gave me. I was like, 12 or 13. I remember thinking I'd like to marry someone higher up in the alphabet so I could sit in the front of class (being a Z myself). LOL

Shit like this is flooding back. In bits and in waves.

I feel like such an outsider here.

I don't even remember how to iron en'at so good. Geez o man. I need to find me an ice scraper fast. I'm hating this.

My dad told me tonight to go back to Florida if I hated it so much. I just might! I start work on Monday; it better be a damn good job for me to stay.

"Understand the things I say
Don't turn away from me
Cause I spent half my life out there
You wouldn't disagree
Do you see me, do you see
Do you like me, do you like me standing there
Do you notice, does anyone care."

Ode to My Family - The Cranberries

Getting back to good

NOTE: WITH LOSS OF POWER FOR MORE THAN TWO WEEKS AND NO PHONE LINE OR COMPUTER ACCESS, BLOGS WRITTEN THROUGH THE PITTSBURGH MOVE WERE BY HAND AND WILL BE ENTERED AS TIME ALLOWS. PLEASE STAY TUNED!

Tonight I can write by streetlight. It's a little sobering, so I'm having a beer. A cold one. :)

Bob got power back. I can stop worrying about running out of clothes for work and making the mark when I sit on the toilet. Bob said that a cheer went up throughout the neighborhood when the lights came on. I wish I had been there for it. Four days with no lights, that must have felt good.

There's still no power at my house. When I stopped by before work, my landlord and his team of helpers had just finished covering the roof with an old tarp and plastic sheeting. A friend of mine who is visiting Sarasota snagged a new tarp for us.

While I was home, they ripped up the carpet. My bedroom is now a concrete slab covered in random notches and patterns of glue.

My guess is it's a lot harder to put down carpet than to tear it out: They were done in less than 10 minutes.

And the smell went with it.

As I was driving over to Bob's house after work, I noticed that many more places had electricity; there were many more lights on in the distance. On the highway, I didn't feel like I was about to drive off a cliff.

I smelled a burning smell, and wondered if it was from electricity coursing through tattered lines, or my car. My check engine light has been on since the storm. Closer to Bob's I was convinced I smelled McDonald's. A cheeseburger to be exact. I started to wonder why my brain was convincing me a world without power somehow smelled that way, like a burger with too much sugar. Surely not a single restaurant was operational yet.

When I got to Bob's I found that a bottle of Worcestershire sauce that I salvaged from my house had spilled in the back seat. That was the cheeseburger smell. I wonder if FEMA would pay for such a stain-related injury to my car.

The world is getting back to normal again. It's a good thing in most ways.

I might be able to make my deadline for starting work in Pittsburgh, but I think I'd be less stressed if I pushed it back a week. Right now my current paper is publishing from another office, and that is chaos in itself, forget finding gas and water and chocolate milk.

Next week things should be closer to normal as we regain power one by one. It's funny, as each of my coworkers slams down and phone and exclaims they have power: A hearty cheer goes up, as if he or she had climbed a phone pole and fashioned the repair single-handedly.

I hope life returns to normal before I move. Even if it's just for a day or two. I think I really need it to be grounded in the reality of what is going on with me. And I need to remember the fondness I have for the place rather than feeling grateful to escape.

Hurricane Wilma

NOTE: WITH LOSS OF POWER FOR MORE THAN TWO WEEKS AND NO PHONE LINE OR COMPUTER ACCESS, BLOGS WRITTEN THROUGH THE PITTSBURGH MOVE WERE BY HAND AND WILL BE ENTERED AS TIME ALLOWS. PLEASE STAY TUNED!

It's been only two days. This hurricane has been a lesson in patience.

I know now that I prefer the hum of an AC window unit to the droning growl of a generator.

Much of this storm resembled the last: People helping people. The buzz of chain saws filled the air along with the smell of freshly cut wood. Debris everywhere. Anything and everything the wind could shake loose. Dangling, darkened traffic signals and the deep blackness when dusk disappears.

Oh, the stars. It's like camping in many ways. Improvised cooking, creative cleaning, even toilet habits become, well, profound. But the stars -- they are the best part of camping. And now with no city lights, they pop from the sky like firecrackers.

I drove home from work with Orion over my left shoulder most of the way. I got to my house and flashlighted my way to let the dogs out. It was scary to be in so much darkness, and I thought perhaps it might be dangerous, but probably it wasn't. It's one thing for a criminal to go sneaking in the shadows of darkness. It would be a whole other feat if one could fumble through the complete blackness without hitting his toe and crying out in pain.

As I headed back to stay with Bob -- the winds sheared off my roof and shot a hole through my bedroom ceiling -- I saw FPL trucks begin to light up the end of the street. They say power will return in two to four weeks, but somehow I knew I'd get lucky. I had a bottle of wine tucked under my arm and thought about rushing over to offer it to them, but I realized it was too small of a gesture. I wish I could offer them sleep and to be home with their families. At least I am getting that, in a way.

As I approached downtown, I saw most of the buildings were dimly illuminated. Even the Templeton building, with its west facade torn off and gaping holes where glass used to be, had lights on, and I could see the ceilings stripped bare. What horrified me two days ago now made me smile -- everything will be fixed. There was even a single traffic light glowing, and part of the entertainment district was lit so brightly that it looked like any other slow Wednesday night.

The storm itself was powerful, but at least it was quick. In hurricanes, there are noises that one can just never imagine. One from Wilma sounded eerily like a wounded dog, perhaps one dying a slow agonizing death. I had to keep checking on my own dogs to be sure they were OK. When the winds died down and I finally poked my head outside, I discovered that noise was a dangling ficus limb scraping against my metal back door. Another chunk of the same ficus decorated my front door, on the other side of the house.

To say seeing my roof draping from the side of the house was disturbing is a clear understatement. I completely broke down. Upon inspecting the inside of my house, I found part of my bedroom ceiling had collapsed. I broke down yet again, and Zoe has told this to complete strangers: "Mommy cried when she saw the ceiling on the floor." But at the time she was comforting: "Don't cry Mommy. I'm still here."

Indeed I am lucky to have chosen to stay in the living room that night. After my landlord climbed up on the "roof," he said the only part remaining on my three-apartment building was over my living room and kitchen.

Sometimes I wonder which of the horrible noises I heard was the ceiling coming down, or the roof peeling off, or the ficus tearing from its base. It keeps me up at night wondering, and I'm still waiting for a good night's sleep.

All of this will likely affect my moving plans. The moving company was supposed to show up Monday, the day of the storm, for an estimate. I have no light by which to pack with the hurricane shutters still on. I'm lucky Bob got his water back so quickly, and even luckier that he has a gas water heater and stove.

I'm sitting on his front porch now writing by candlelight and flashlight; I can't see my hand in front of me without them. But I can see a familiar glow due south. It's the kind of glow that can mean only one thing: Civilization is coming back, the lights will go on, and the stars will dim again.

Neighbors will go inside, ACs and TVs will go on again, and cars will go speeding by instead of slowing for a hello.

Timing is everything

"Tell me why everything turned around.
Packing up,
Shacking up is all you want to do.
If I could I'd give you my world...
How can I, when you go taking from me.
You can go your own way.
You can call it another lonely day."

-- Fleetwood Mac, Go Your Own Way

It's Thursday. I gave my notice yesterday, and I've been smiling ever since. I thought giving my two weeks would be cathartic, but it was uneventful and predictable.

I've heard of counteroffers. Ha. I got just another "Don't let the door hit you in the ass" speech.

I accepted the job Wednesday morning. Mr. DME: "I'm so pleased." I'm so freaking happy I can't contain myself!!!! I was quite professional on the phone and didn't squeal or sqeak or even waver. I think.

There is a small tiny little itty bitty piece of me that thinks I might be making a mistake. I don't have a list of job duties, I don't know all about the benefits, I don't own any closed-toe shoes and I don't know if I need different tires for my car for winter. I've never driven in snow. :)

And Zoe's dad. He's a mess. And it kills me. It really does. This happened faster than I could have imagined.

Today I had to train the new hire, boyfriend to the girl who got the job at work that I went after here in Lauderdale. Both are a year out of school. Great people, and I have nothing against them, but I wonder who at work is responsible for making me sit through ANOTHER meeting today with another candidate who will take another job I deserved to get. All three of them come from the paper where our new DME worked.

But still, I have an enormous amount of faith in my future for the first time in a while. When I express any doubts about my ability to make it, my friends remind me: "[Your current company] has really done a toll on you, hasn't it?"

Yes, it has, I suppose.

That's no way to work.

I decided my last day will be Nov. 4. It is my nine-year anniversary with the company. I know no one else will care, but it will mean something to me. I made it.

Pinch me

"I was feeling part of the scenery,
I walked right out of the machinery,
My heart going, 'Boom, boom, boom,'
'Hey,' he said, 'Grab your things,
I've come to take you home.' "

-- Peter Gabriel, Solsbury Hill


Holy crap.

I was sitting on the porch with my coffee today in Pittsburgh, all bundled in a coat and anticipating my flight back to Florida, and my cell phone rang. I was sitting next to my father. "Oh my god, I think it's them."

It was an offer. It was an offer I could never have expected. Mr. DME told me the day before that he was going to fight for this and that, but the editor in charge made it clear when I talked to him that what's done is done, not to expect this and that... blah blah blah.

To make a long story short, I got more than I could have hoped for. And while I'm sitting there listening to the details, Dad is in the background griping, "Tell him I want a hat and T-shirt too! Where's my hat and T-shirt!"

Oh, god, I'm 32 years old and going back to live with my father??? :)

I know that this company needs my skills, but I never thought for a second I'd be able to sell them on it. I would have been satisfied with an offer on the night desk, though I don't know if I would have taken it because I need a day job. But Mr. DME is on the phone telling me he wants me to be his assistant, he wants me to help run the design, photography and graphics departments, that I'm in charge when he's on vacation... (yeah, and he can probably hear Dad rumbling about a hat, LOL)

Hell, I know I'm capable of it. What burns me up is that my current publication... well, some of them saw it, but they chose to ignore my accomplishments, let alone my potential... I don't get it.

And this guy, Mr. DME, he doesn't know me except for us bullshitting over the din of CNN in his office and lunch near PNC Park.... but he got me. That I'm passionate about my work, that I'm a loyal employee, that I am a stickler for balance inside and out, and keeping the communication open...

And that we are journalists. We're not just designers or writers or editors or photographers... we're all journalists. Ahhhh, refreshing.

And he somehow managed to win the battle with the editor in chief that I was worth the dough. The same editor in chief who told me I was worth $14G if he factored in the cost of living, LOL. He's a personable guy, if not funny, and I plan to make myself a fixture in his professional life.

I think Mr. DME had his mind made up before he flew me there. I'd like to think I was charming and won him over, but probably I just backed what he sensed: That I'm not just a jack of all trades. I do have a hunger for this business, and I can do it all and do it well.

I left the hat with Dad.

On another note, I got back today to find a hurricane headed right toward us. What better excuse to move. Snow sucks, but hurricanes suck more.

Please, give me a job

"Confusion never stops,
Closing walls and ticking clocks.
Gonna come back and take you home.
I could not stop, that you now know.

...You are, you are
Home, home,
Where I wanted to go."

-- Coldplay, Clocks


I got an hour's worth of good sleep before the interview. And I couldn't believe it myself: I wasn't tossing and turning all night over the interview itself, but about Pittsburgh. About my family. I was recalling all my good and bad memories here, and thought a lot about moving my daughter here... my daughter, the Florida native. Oh, I was also tossing and turning because I couldn't for the life of me get my toes warm in Pittsburgh's October. I started out with a pair of socks and two blankets and ended up piling on three more blankets. Damn thin blood.

I had the interview. It was .... long. I was left alone a lot but that didn't bother me. It's better than being stuck with busy people who have to baby-sit me! Not to mention the pressure on my part to engage in conversation when I know they have things to do.

I got to meet most of the management, and I was amazed. I was amazed at what was coming out of my mouth, and I was amazed I knew when to shut up and listen. I was amazed with the whole atmosphere and dedication.

Everyone was right up my alley though. I think they thought the same of me. I went to a few meetings and realized I had never even been to the same meetings at my current employment, nor had I been invited. The interview process for me was lacking at my publication.

I left feeling not just good, not just postiive... I can't explain it. I left feeling like it was in the bag, but even that doesn't explain it. It's the same industry, whole different feel. Everyone was naturally funny and positive and had faith in what they've taken on. And it just felt right. I really think they are interested. I really hope they are interested.

My dad and brother were obviously pessimistic when I got home. They know the Pittsburgh job market better than me. Wsssssssssssssssss, wind out of my sails.

I'm going out for celebratory drinks with Aimee. She was jealous of my parting gifts: a hat and shirt. She's worked there for years and promised to go in demanding her t-shirt and hat. :)

I have a good good feeling, and I don't know why. I've been told all these background checks and whatnot take time... six months is normal before a hire. I'm glad I have another day here to absorb what might be my reality. Tomorrow I'll sit outside and take it in so I remember a couple months from now.

No Pain, No Gain

"When your day is long
And the night is yours alone
And you're sure you've had enough of this life
Hang on
Don't let yourself go
Because everybody cries
Everybody hurts
Sometimes."

REM - Everybody Hurts

I HURT.

Today I had the strangest pain in my foot. It felt like sparks just shooting out. I went for a walk and my knee felt numb... like it would give out. I called my sister, who had knee surgery recently, and told her I was having sympathy pains.

I got home from work and felt a throbbing spasm in my lower back. Yesterday my neck was killing me but today it feels fine. My shoulder is locking up from time to time.

OK, something's up here. My body is disagreeing with my personal decisions? I'm 32!!!I refuse to believe it is just because I got older in one day!! I told Rebecca I was convinced I had cancer or something and she laughed. She's 50, so she knows what she's laughing about. So I feel less freaked out. But I still ache in weird ass places.

Zoe's dad will take her to Tampa for a few days starting Sunday morning while I'm on my interview in Pittsburgh. Since he has her Saturdays, tomorrow will be the last day I see her until Tuesday night. I am going to miss her so much.

It will give me the time to concentrate on the interview though, as much as I don't wish I had to. The editor in Pittsburgh was supposed to send me materials for review, but I'm thinking he forgot, since I don't have anything yet. I don't even know if I'll have to take a standard editing test. Perhaps I should suggest it, since I know I would ace it. When I call him he seems rather distracted; I wonder by what! Today he told me to show up for the interview "around 10:30. But don't worry if you're late. I probably will be."

Hell, I will probably show up early just so someone can stick me with the managing editor or someone else who knows what he or she is doing.

I got a call from WQED today too, for a sales position. HA! Anyone who knows me knows I am not cut out for sales. I had sent my resume for an editorial position! I called back and left a voice mail saying as much, and she called me back and said that she was leaving for the day, but to call her back tomorrow. OK, I'll bite. Tomorrow.

Our Everything

"That mistake he thought he made
Covers up the refrigerator.
He loves that little girl.
Mama's waiting to tuck her in
As she tumbles up those stairs.
She smiles back at him
Dragging that teddy bear.
Sleep tight,
Blue eyes and bouncy curls.

There goes my life,
There goes my future,
My everything.
I love you Daddy,
Good night.
There goes my life."

-- Kenny Chesney, There Goes My Life

I spent the past couple of days sick, and I went on WebMD because I thought it might be *gasp* serious. I couldn't find anything to indicate I was actually sick. I'm now convinced I'm just anxious. I'm stressed, I haven't been eating right. So I've been tired and pumping myself with caffeine. Coffee on an empty stomach is a bad, bad thing.

The interview itself doesn't really bother me. The IDEA that I have to have an interview bothers me.

But so many of my friends are telling me how happy they are because they moved on. And I think my ex is now willing to accommodate as far as my daughter is concerned.

Can I really drive in snow???

This begs so many more questions... moving vans and money, god, gas prices these days. What about transporting the dogs? Who will help me load the truck? How does one roll over an IRA? Can I go back to my old doctor in Pittsburgh? Do I need to collect medical records before I go? How can I pay for this? I have a hundred bucks in my checking account and nothing in my savings. Oh, do I close the accounts before I leave or can I do it from Pittsburgh?

Where do I get that many boxes? Will Zoe's dad give me her stuff from his house too? Will my car make it to Pittsburgh? Do I have to get some special tires or something? Do I have enough warm clothes? What happens to my custody case?

The production editor came up to me tonight and asked me to fill in for him for a day in November. I told him sure, if I was still around. He walked away in a weird way. We had our holiday lottery and they all joked that me begging for Christmas Eve was a joke. It would be the first year I actually got Christmas day and New Year's Day as my natural days off.

But I want to give them to Zoe's dad. Every day I'm here, I feel like it might be the last. I can't imagine how her dad is feeling, knowing he's somewhat willing to kiss his daughter goodbye.

Better schools, better life. Great family. Happier mom. Tons of support. I know I have weighed everything, and I know I am doing the best thing.

But Daddy?

Someday she will leave me too. I guess I'm feeling a little of that now.

Time's Up

"Still don’t know what I was waiting for
And my time was running wild
A million dead-end streets and
Every time I thought I’d got it made
It seemed the taste was not so sweet."

- David Bowie, Changes

I had another shouting match with my ex right before work today. And when I got to work, someone sent me a link to newspaper-related site that announced that a girl with barely a year of experience got the job I had applied for on our features desk.

How wonderful that I got to find that out on the Internet before someone at work told me.

I was riled up so I vented to my editor and my DME. This girl and her boyfriend (they ARE lovely people, I helped interview them) were hired together, some kind of "deal," one of the editors said. Well, good for them, but I've been asking for a "deal" for more than a year, and I've been lied to and strung along by one, two three, four, five... yes, five people. I told my editor that I was upset that no one feels the need to be up front or honest with me, and that I have so much to lose from not being able to act sooner than I am now.

I can walk into that newsroom on any given night and do anyone's job. Design, rim, slot, production, wire, photo. I think I'm the only one who can do that. But they're going to sacrifice a 10-year underpaid worker for a "deal" they made with two kids right out of college. I'm totally missing something here.

What's worse, she implied that when I filled in on the features desk, they must not have liked me. It doesn't matter that I'm way more qualified than the new hire. Or that I'm not the art director they said they decided to hire for that position.

I was whiny, I was angry, and I wasn't looking for anything, and I made that clear. But I could NOT sit there all night and steam about it; I had to finally let them know how I felt. I won't go out kicking and screaming, but I won't go out with a muffled whimper either! I have nothing to lose.

I really want to run away from all this, and I'm afraid my ex will now prevent that from happening.

I'm tempted to tell them I will be with them for another couple of years just so they don't go hiring more people for the position I haven't vacated yet. (Oh yeah, the boyfriend half of the duo was hired for our desk, and no position was ever posted, hmmmm.)

I do wish them the best of luck though. They are great kids and they will do well; I can tell by how our "design editor" coddles those he hires and neglects us old-timers who came before him.

A Peace is Missing

"One day you'll wake up in the present day
A million generations
Removed from expectations
Of being who you really want to be.

So as you push off from the shore
Won't you turn your head once more
And make your peace with everyone."

- Jethro Tull, Skating Away

My daughter's father is suddenly giving me a hard time about this interview in Pittsburgh. I can't tell you how many times he's told me that he's surprised I haven't moved home by now. Or that he's waiting for me to move so he can move.

But the reality is getting to him. He yelled at me so loudly today on the phone that I couldn't understand a word he was saying. He's been harsh and even nasty at times before, but never THAT emotional. I don't even know what he was saying, and I'm not sure I want to know. This has been an emotional decision for me too.

The interview is set for mid-October. I think he's going to take care of Zoe while I'm gone, though he seemed to fight me on it. He wants her to stay in Florida but he can't even watch her for a weekend that I'm out of town. Sigh. But I think he will.

I think once he calms down we'll work it out. It's not like it's a job offer, for crying out loud. And I still have other pursuits going on in the county, even at my company.

So far my family has been way more helpful and open to me coming home than I ever imagined. My father is the only one with doubts, and I abide by his advice almost religiously, but if he doesn't accept me, I have others willing to help, including an aunt willing to take the dog I didn't want to leave behind! But I think Dad will come around. He's the kind of guy that would get pissed if someone else in the family stepped up. I take that at face value though: I think he doesn't want to see me fail. And it's more than a fear of taking care of me, I think he might actually be proud of me. That, or he wants me to stay in Florida so he has somewhere to crash when he retires.

I have to say, the whole idea of watching snow fall by the street light, seeing neighbors working in the garden in the spring, having the chance to see leaves turn colors in fall, watching the baby skip through a sprinkler in the summer... it's all starting to really appeal to me. I would really love for my daughter to grow up like I did. She's got three cousins in my dad's back yard alone. Here in Florida, she has a paved back yard, warehouses next door and a Taco Bell out front. Year round. That's what we can afford, where the median housing price is $450,000.

And little family.

I just don't want her to miss her dad if we move. I know she could have a richer life outside of Lauderdale, but her dad wouldn't be there every day. I think I might even miss him a tiny little bit. I don't want her to be mad at me later if I make this decision, but I'm really really leaning toward it. I'm already purging junk from the apartment.

It's been a long time since I've been at peace. It will be a while longer before I have it.

Dreaming on

"Every memory of looking out the back door
I have the photo album spread out on my bedroom floor
It's hard to say it, time to say it
Goodbye life, goodbye life

I miss that town, I miss their faces
You can't erase, You can't replace it
I miss it now. I can't believe it
So hard to stay, Too hard to leave it

If I could I relive those days
I know the one thing that would never change

Look at this photograph
Every time I do it makes me laugh"

--Nickelback, Photograph

I GOT AN INTERVIEW!!!

I got released from jury duty early today and came home to a phone message from one of the dozens of companies that I applied to.

It was the only company I hoped would reply.

The deputy managing editor of a publication in Pittsburgh replied to me directly. I'll be up there in a couple of weeks for an interview.

My dad wasn't so robust about the new development. I've been telling him over and over that I can't afford to live in South Florida, but he insists that I'll be worse off in Pittsburgh. I finally asked him to guess what the median house price in Fort Lauderdale was.

He guessed $110,000.

I told him it was $450,000.

I think I won him over.

With that revelation, I got a commitment from him and my brother to come help move me. I know I'm jumping ahead, but I gotta be prepared. I could have a two-week turnaround, and I don't want to be caught by surprise. I almost went out tonight in search of packing boxes, but I convinced myself that was bad luck. Not to mention heavy boxes are a bitch to shift around when mopping floors.

I'm already thinking about my weekend road trips, some to see South Florida replants in Chicago, DC, New York and New Jersey. We could have a reunion! At the beach, which will be eight hours away from the Burgh; No big deal since I live a mile from the beach now and see it three times a year.

OK, again. Ahead of myself.

It was a good conversation that I had with Mr. DME. What is most surprising is that when he called I recognized his name as the head of photography for that publication, but he has other duties now; it so happens he's also a superior of my best friend, who is a photographer there. My friend insists he still maintains a solid photography presence there, and since I have a minor in that maybe I can hold my own in an interview.

I'm a fan of getting this on my own merit, so my friend and I agreed to keep mum about our friendship as far as professionalism goes. Our pact behind the ant-covered garbage can in high school as the vice principal drove by with binoculars still stands.

She also informed me that we'd be kept best friends if I wasn't planning on living with her when I moved back. I agree. LOL Two 4-year-olds together = one unmanageable monster of a headache.

(Scheduled play dates, Smudge. At your house. Iron City is on me.)

Help Wanted

"It's all right
There comes a time
Got no patience to search
For peace of mind
Layin' low
Want to take it slow
No more hiding or
Disguising truths I've sold.""

-- Alice in Chains, No Excuses

I spent the first part of the week after "The News" feeling pretty good, like it was a new opportunity. But after people at work found out that I didn't have a day job (I guess it's generally known I'll leave the desk now) those that gave a shit kept coming up and telling me how sorry they were that I was screwed. So, the negativity crept in.

I am sad, and I am having anxiety attacks here and there, but nothing serious. I'm divorcing my company, one that I might like to come back to one day when I can continue a career that conflicts with young family life, maybe when I'm a millionaire and can afford to live in the area. I've sent out dozens of inquiries and applications and resumes and I have gotten only one hit -- from a nearby company seeking a freelance proofreader.

And I realize how specialized I have become as a newspaper page designer. I'm now plugged in to a hole and I've plugged myself into only two locations, so it seems 7-Eleven is looking like a decent job again.

Print news is going downhill... I should expand my horizons, but it has taken this mess to get me even really thinking about that. I'm a diehard newspaper person, don't get me wrong... in college 12 or 13 years ago, I was upset that papers were moving to four-color; yeah, you'd think I was like a veteran. I resisted the expansion of feature stuff and wanted papers sticking to news... my argument was always that we are a RECORD, forget TV and radio and online, newspapers are the news of record and we need to stick to that...

But I'm thinking differently at my ripe old age of 32. :)

It's not necessary for me to compromise my ideals to find a job: I just need to find a new focus. Web news? Here and gone tomorrow, same instant gratification! Magazines? There's time to grow and make great the material. There's a lot out there, I I think I'm finally turning the corner and seeing what I can accomplish. Without giving up the beloved deadlines that make us who we are.

I wish I had kept count of the resumes going out. There ain't nothing coming in. This cloud over me... it has to disappear soon. I have a Plan B, but it ain't much prettier. I can be happy I have a job for now. I can I can I can.

Jury duty in the morning.... fun, fun.

An old flame

"So I walk upon high
And I step to the edge
To see my world below
And I laugh at myself
While the tears roll down
'Cause it's the world I know
It's the world I know"

- Collective Soul, The World I know

Well, my two bosses called me in the office today and asked about my custody issues, which have luckily been dragged out just long enough for me to hear that they'd be willing to give me references.

"Don't let the door hit you in the ass!"

I feel so lost. It's been so long since I've looked for a job. And doing it from 1,000 miles away seems ridiculous.

I got a list of names and addresses together and I'll be sending my stuff out this week. I said that last week but I've just felt so overwhelmed that I put it off. I did apply to a dozen places online here and in Pittsburgh, but I'm hoping I don't get bites here.

My boyfriend is giving me grief, I have jury duty next week and my company has written me off after 10 years. But this is where I have been for so long, it's hard to imagine being somewhere else. It would be different if I didn't have my daughter, but I'd be ripping her out of everything she knows too.

The sooner the better probably. I can fall in love with a new place. I can I can I can. :)

Oh, wait, it's an old place. It's like a reunion.

It's home. I have to remind myself of that. It's home. I wanna go home, right?

Shaking it up

"The problelm is all inside your head
She said to me.
The answer is easy
If you take it logically.
I'd like to help you
In your struggle to be free.
There must be 50 ways
To leave your lover."

- Paul Simon


I got back from vacation and there's a jury summons mixed in with all the junk mail.

This whole Katrina mess in New Orleans has me riveted. I've given money to almost all the minor disasters in the past, and I just don't have the cash now. I think of people on their rooftops waiting for rescue, and I don't have two dimes to rub together to give them, and it kills me to no end.

My daughter just started a preschool; it's $120 a week, and I'm supposed to split it with her dad. It's impossible for me, but he is insisting. I don't know how I even let him corner me into enrolling her in the Harvard of preschools. What the hell!

Again, no cash; I can't even help anyone who really needs it. I'm eating soup out of the can and whatever stale bread I have in the fridge. I actually had a dream about tasting dog food. (And liking it.) I don't know if that would save money because i buy them the good stuff. Even though I don't have two dimes to rub together.

My dad: "Well, you have one dime at least?"

Yeah, I have one. One lonely dime.

At my company they cut out a few more people. And one of my favorite people quit.

Just like that.

I am starting to look at my job as just a job. Which is OK, I guess, even after 10 years. But it's still hard to just pick up and go to somewhere else. People do it all the time. Just hop on the bus, Gus. Make a new plan, Stan.

I think my worst fear is going from bad to worse. But really, it can't get too much worse here. Jury duty? Hahahahahahaha. If I'm lucky, I'll be disqualified because I am living elsewhere by Sept. 28. In reality, I'll still be struggling with the same stupid ass custody and job issues. I know my dad would take me with semi-open arms, so it's painful to stay. It's just as painful to go and leave 10 years behind.

Don't need to discuss much. Just get myself free.

I (heart) the Big Easy

"And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone but it goes to waste
could it be worse?"

-- Cold Play, Fix You

Holy Katrina.

I have continued to be completely absorbed by the coverage of the aftermath of this storm. New Orleans was, in fact, my favorite place on this earth. It's not that I've visited a ton of places, but it was a place I always dreamed of visiting as a child, and I'm glad I got the chance.

I can't believe the bitty hurricane that brushed our peninsula went on the be so fucking shitty to our hurricane-receiving counterparts. I can't believe it wiped out one of the most unique and historic towns in my country.

Don't get me started on government response. I could start a whole new blog on that, but it's been done.

My heart, it aches. This city, these people... It's never going to be the same again. I'm having nightmares, and I cry when I read coverage or look at photos of the devastation. Small towns, wiped out. Cities, gone. Businesses, jobs, families, all ripped away. And we fucking saw it coming and then sat on our asses wondering what to do about it.

I didn't ask about the day job right away because of Katrina, but late the following week I did. The response was not overwhelming there either. My boss pretty much told me that it wasn't looking good. I have a ton of theories, but the fact that after a year of begging and pleading for a day job has left me with nothing, I'm pretty much on my own.

Still, I feel lucky.

A little too much

"How the hell'd we wind up like this?
Why weren't we able
To see there's something we'd missed?
And try and turn the tables
I wish you'd unclench your fists
And unpack your suitcase
Lately there's been too much of this
But don't think it's too late."

-- Nickelback


The streets were cleaned up fast after Katrina, but not many of the traffic lights are working still. It's amazing that in two days you can get used to stopping at every intersection, even if you have a green light. I was thinking that the blinking lights aren't so bad: While it's fight for your life at some bigger intersections, the stop and go at smaller ones actually gets me places faster when there aren't downed ficus trees blocking the road.

The only problem is when you travel into the unknown. Then you have to REALLY pay attention because the lights are out and those broken intersections just creep up on ya, even in broad daylight. And if you aren't familiar with the area... well, I've seen quite a few fender benders.

Winds have died down. Gusts and rain here and there. Bye Katrina. New Orleans, I'm saying a prayer for you.

The job hunt is still on, if not postponed. I'll never make my deadline, with this hurricane crap. My daughter's birthday party is tomorrow and my brother is coming the next day to visit for a few. I'm back to work for three days then I'm on vacation for a week.... a REAL vacation for once. This has all been, well, stressful. A break from routine is great once in a while, but all this at once has me feeling upside down. I wasn't ready for all this at the same time!!!

I wonder if the places I applied to think I'm running from the hurricanes, LOL. They probably laugh in my face remembering the last time they slid down a Pittsburgh hill in the snow sideways thinking, "This might be it. I hope that guardrail is not weakened by the last fool that slid along it." But I wanna go back so so bad and don't mind sliding along a guardrail. I have an uncle who does body work. ;)

Tomorrow I will go in search of a supermarket for party things... many grocery stores still don't have power and those that do have little food because much has spoiled. I guess if it comes to it, I'll order pizza delivery. If I can find a local pizza place with power....

Life is like a hurricane

Good men through the ages
Tryin' to find the sun
And I wonder
Still I wonder
Who'll stop the rain?

-- Creedence Clearwater Revival

I was driving to work tonight with my almost-4-year-old in the back seat, and she kept telling me my windshield "washers" were too slow or too fast. The rain and wind was squally and it was tough to see at times. Then she asked me to just shut off the rain. :)

I've been putting off asking and bugging the bosses this week about the job because we had a hurricane suddenly pop up out of nowhere.

It hit tonight, came and went. It's funny reading these stories we write about how it "hit" here and "didn't hit" there. A hurricane is hundreds of miles across!!!! Yet they say where the eye lands, that's the equivalent of the epicenter of an earthquake I guess. We didn't have too much damage... enough I guess. I had to pick up my daughter after work tonight and I was tense the whole way home. There's no power in most places, so the streets were very dark and I'd say 70 percent of the traffic lights were dark and 20 percent were blinking.

People here have become remarkably polite during hurricanes lately. Perhaps that's because Florida has been hit by six in the past year, and we finally got the etiquette down. Still, I was scared on my ride home with the baby. Since so many of the signals were dark and there were no street lights, I really couldn't tell I was coming upon an intersection until the last moment, and these are streets I have traveled well, most days, for 10 years.

No one bothered to put up shutters... it wasn't like the ghost town of past hurricanes. It was scheduled to be a Cat 1, and it was no more than that. Turns out the thing was supposed to hit north of us (all the yucky weather was in the south of the storm) but it took a jog to the south at the last moment and I guess we were spared something, I dunno what. It was a sissy storm compared to others I have been through. It threw my lawn chairs around the yard, I guess that's one thing I can bitch about. And there was a downed tree in the road I thought I wouldn't be able to get around, but I managed to.

I was at work the whole time during the storm. I was offered the day off but went in anyway. Hey, it's a Cat 1, what am I afraid of, right? Well, we had one of our budget meetings in the conference room that is on the ninth floor on the outskirts of the building. I would realize later that this particular budget meeting (I had at least two previous meetings to this one in the same room with no remarkable circumstances) was right about the time the damn hurricane was landfalling. It was early evening but it was so dark outside we could see our reflections in the glass windows. The glass windows THAT WERE BREATHING IN AND OUT AS IF THEY WOULD BURST AT ANY MOMENT. My editor seemed kinda jumpy about this too, and when I pointed out that debris was flying about at nine stories up, he seemed more nervous, and at one point we all stood up for the remainder of the meeting. As if that would buy us time running and screaming from shattering panes of glass.

It was either that or get under the conference table I guess.

So anyway, that explains where I am with the job thing.

I probably had a small window of opportunity to jab the bosses about it at the beginning of the week, but I wasn't about to bring up my personal crap when all of the state was threatened with death and destruction, LOL.

This week I applied at two places though... both in Pittsburgh... and sent out a letter of interest via email here and there for stuff I found on the Internet. I don't know what is drawing me back to Pittsburgh so much. I guess I'm thinking, now is as good a time as any.

(Happy birthday, mom.)

Don't know where I'm going

"I don't know where I'm going. I just want to be left alone. Where this train ends, I'll try again . . . Tuesday's gone with the wind. . . Train roll on. Tuesday's gone."

-- Lynyrd Skynyrd


Last Tuesday, my boss' boss and his boss promised me I'd know something by the end of the week about whether I had a chance at this daytime job I've been pursuing. For a year.

It's the following Tuesday, and I've heard nothing.

Every time I've asked about it this past year, anticipating my need for this job, my boss has told me: Oh, we have until next September.

Or: We'll let you know something by the end of the week.

Over and over.

I'm kind of sick to my stomach.

I knew it would pan out this way, down to the minute. What kills me is that I promised myself if I didn't have a commitment from work by June, I would start looking elsewhere. Wouldn't you know it, in June, all the rumors started to heat up and things looked promising. So I went with it.

The rumor mill has been absolutely dry for the past month.

I spent Sunday in bed mostly, realizing my time has come and feeling sorry for myself. I felt better Monday. It's Tuesday, I'm a mess again, but I'm good. I'm a mess, but I feel like peace is coming to me, like I've reconciled this whole thing.

I've been with this company for 10 years. Almost my entire adult life. No, it's not a crisis to have to leave, despite my fascination with loyalty. In fact, I've had so many reasons to leave this city. BUT I LOVE MY JOB.

I can't even afford to live in this city, and the school system sucks, which is one of the major reasons I want to leave, to get my Pre-K daughter into a better school system. To have her grow up in a better environment. And to be able to save money and maybe buy a house somewhere affordable and have a great life away from the excesses of Fort Lauderdale.

I love my job. But I'm trying to leave it anyway. So why don't I just move back home???? Why am I so scared to make that move?

I've always been an adventurer, in relationships and life... and yet I can't bring myself to leave what I have here with an organization that would forget about me the minute I walked out the door and boarded the moving van.

But it's what I've built of my life since I left college.

It's time. I think. I have to stop thinking I'm running away from something, and I have to believe I'm heading for something better.

God, let me be brave.