Tuesday, March 29, 2005

little ole me

Tonight Sam spilled 5 gallons of water on the kitchen floor whilst brewing beer. We have never seen the place so clean, we remarked, while mopping it up with towels. A fitting ending to an unfitting day.
Can I get a "woot woot" for all the people out there with too much to handle right now?
Can anyone else relate to an eleven hour workday in a string of eleven hour workdays spannings the course of several weeks with no days off?
Can anyone commisserate with a pile of retrograde work that is thicker than mud, trying to work one's self out ass backwards from a heap of troubles and by opposing end them?
I knew that you could.
What is this backwards bullshit of late? If it's planetary, it needs to move on into another phase, that's all I'm sayin'.
Thank Eris that the Editor rescued me from my loft of madness today for raspberry chocolate martinis and quesadillas before I spent all night locked in the tower.
Today my boss and mentor gave me a book of rules for sanity. #1 is that nothing matters. #2 is that no one else is thinking about me. They are thinking about them. Tonight I am thinking about you. All of you.
Are your floors as clean as mine, due to unexpected calamity? Is the light at the end of the tunel visible?
Can I get a witness?

Saturday, March 26, 2005


Sam showed me this and now I am going to have nightmares. The first ones are kind of cute, but as you scroll down you get into some pretty disturbing images. Ah, the power of photoshop wielded by sick
minds- is there no end to the madness?

Enjoy! I like the tigerowl, myself...

Monday, March 14, 2005

gaping crevasse

Yes, Adriana, there is a Grand Canyon...

Whenever I saw it in my mind, I envisioned an arid desert of brown with a few straggly shrubs littering the landscape, and a slight incline up to a dramatic, sheer drop. A jagged mouth appearing suddenly from nothing, stretching as far as the eye could see from one corner of the horizon to the other, with the desert visible on the other side. The walls of the canyon would slope in somewhat, but it would be a steep and dust choked climb to the bottom, full of rattlesnakes and cowboy skeletons. Old West. Nothing to drink but Cactus Juice. The sense of perilous death looming large.

But as my sweetie and I rode up, there were nothing but trees, trees, trees. No desert at all. Everything was lush and green after the record rainy season in the West this year. The road curved up to a civilized lookout point, and I started to glimpse the Canyon before we got to the protruding viewing areas. My heart almost stopped. It wasn't brown at all! There were a few layers of earth toned strata, of course, and an odd beige rock or two, but there were shades of blue and green and greyish lavender, and ochre, and colors without names. There was snow nestling in places. A crow glided by, right on cue. An oasis of green sprung up with little buildings on the bottom, the Phantom Ranch, aptly named. I must go there someday.

The trails snaking through this lush canyon astounded me, and the fact that it is only a mile down. But it goes on forever, it goes on into other dimensions. The areas jutting out like fingers into the canyon are beautiful- like platform to eternity. I was awed and moved and incredibly happy to be there. The urge to climb down was immense. A river had cut this path somehow. The determination was inspiring.

I have seen some amazing things. With Sam, I have seen the Alps, the Gorges du Verdon in France, impossible cathedrals built on needle-like hills, terra-formed villages stepping tentatively down to the sea, and a myriad of other amazements. With Jen Sunshine I saw something that I thought I would never top- a lookout point where the Gila and Black Mountain ranges come together in NM, where mountains swell and rise in either direction to infinity. But the Canyon is even more majestic, the Canyon is alive, and it beckons.

Sam takes me tho the most wonderful places.

Anyone want to plan a stay at the Phantom Ranch? I hear they are booked three years in advance, but that should be the type of commitment a few of us could actually handle!

A mere 15 minute stop on our trip, but etched in me forever. A necklace of ancient stones...

Sunday, March 13, 2005

instant karma's gonna get you?

Yesterday I helped the Editor move for 10 hours. We had quite a time of it. During the packing process, everything fit easily where it needed to fit. Loading the truck was like a breezy game of tetris, effortless and compact perfection with almost no forethought. While driving over to drop off the first load we saw a couple of kids who were recklessley skateboarding in the middle of the street, not cognizant of traffic, and we contemplated just running them over because they were physically in our way. We did not. However, when we drove back for the next load, those kids and their parents were on the curb, being ticketed by a cop. We laughed at our evident powers of manifestation.

We worked hard until about 10:30, arranging furniture, books, and clothing like mad. The editor's rather lackadasical attitude towards organization activated my OCD trigger, and once I got going, it was it was hard to stop for either of us. But stop we did and I went home, after we discussed morality and guilt and the subconcious for awhile on the porch of the Editor's new digs. I was explaining how even though I pretty much just took my former bosses' job, I did not feel guilty about it because of what a wretched bitch she is. A sidenote is that the Editor's new place is an old Victorian, about as haunted as it gets, and no one contests this fact. It was giving me hard-core flashbacks to the home in lived in NM for 8 years, not to mention almost incessant hiccups.

So I get home. I am immediateley sore- my shoulders and arms are burning like, well, fire. I take a hot bath, which helps the shoulders a bit. Me sweet Sam gives me a rubdown. Somehow I manage to then run one foot under the couch while simultaneously standing up on it, in order to lay down next to my love, thus damaging the top of my foot which begins to swell immediately. Sam ices my foot while my forearms continue to burn. Can all of this be from moving? Am I that old? For the next 5 or 6 hours, I move from couch to bed to massage tool to Tiger Balm to Valium, unable to rest, and getting more and more strung out about it. Sam tells me I am having a panic attack.

A panic attack? I panick further. What am I panicking about? The base truth of the matter is that my arms hurt so bad no position I put them in is going to allow me to sleep. I try and try, practicing breathing techniques. I try to rationalize. But everythime I almost relax, I now find myself thinking about work. Maybe I do feel guilty about my old boss. I certainly feel overwhelmed. As General Manager, I am suddenly in the middle of tax audits, complicated insurance issues, the pressure of hiring and training 2 new employees in the next two weeks, press deadlines, and generally trying to figure out how I am going to get the knowledge I need in order not to run this place into the ground directly.

These thought coupled with the pain drove me over the edge of reason. Somehow I slept eventually and awoke to almost equal pain, but not as much worry.

Am I about to lose it, or have a major shift in what I allow to affect me? Does anyone else worry like this? Does anyone have a remedy for possible tendon damage?


Thursday, March 03, 2005

Ding dong, the witch is dead

Which old witch?

My former boss, y'all!

After tense negotiations with the board, the new exec director of my theatre managed to convince them to get rid of the evil seed before she brought the entire theatre down with her. She and her husband, the ex- exec, have been helping to generate bad press and bad feelings all around, and lately she has been spending her days making employees do groundwork for the new theatre they plan to begin, rather than doing her job. So today, after not knowing from one hour to the next whether to run away in terror or dig in deeper, the blessed hour finally arrived.

I had had to work with her on and off all today and yesterday to ensure that the finances were in a less disastrous state and her final check was ready early, all under false pretences, which somehow worked.

As she was being given her severance package across the street, I was lerxing away from the theatre to meet my Sam. And now we go to Arizona for a long weekend. And as I was driving to Sam's office, where I sit now, my cell phone rang. Knowing it was her, I did not answer. Cowardly? Sure it is. I expected a livid message. But apparently she still has no idea that I am to replace her.

Furthermore, word id that the box office will not be relocated after all, so my coworker's job is safe, and calamity has been avoided at least in that area.

So starting Tuesday, upon my return, I get to dive headfirst into the fracas, with a new exec, a new development director, and
a new job title and salary.

It's been crazy, and it will continue to be. But at least the environment will be bearable, and the compensation better.
Indescribable satisfaction right now.

As for the trip, Sam is taking me to see the Grand Canyon- my first time, and to attend a dinner being held in his mother's honor. She has been named Distinguished Investigator of the Year for her work through the Mayo Clinic.

Equally good news is that my friend Jessica finally got her Peace Corps assignment. She will be spending about two years in paradise-the Cape Verde Islands, off the African coast. Beautiful beaches, wonderful music, and fresh fish and avocadoes- 70-80 degrees all year round. How's that for worth the wait?

Congratulations all around.