never married, over forty, a little bitter

anger management

I realized this afternoon that part of the reason I’m so testy with my mother is because the majority of my psychic energy is being expended on “staying positive.” I don’t have much left over for anything else.

I had assumed that, by working myself to the bone for six years in L.A., I would reap some benefits on the job market. One of my motivations for sticking it through there was the burnished resume that would result. Yet so far, I’ve lost out on the few jobs I’ve gotten interviews for (incidentally, the interviewers have all been married mothers– I hope this doesn’t mean anything).

My former roommate, on the other hand, barely lifted a finger in his L.A. job, but through happenstance (and my help), is now sitting pretty in another job in which he won’t have to lift a finger.

I have blocked most of this out of my mind, and I remain thankful for the additional time off to pursue my other goals. I figure it is still early days, and there is such a thing as karma, and that everything works out for the best in the end.

But make no mistake, it has required a large amount of emotional fortitude for me to make this turnaround, and I’m still in a fragile place.

who’s sorry now

Years ago, a male friend of mine (somewhat rudely) suggested to me that if all my dates weren’t working out, perhaps the problem was with me. I had gone on dates with him too; he later came out of the closet.

He now complains weekly on Facebook about how none of his dates with men ever work out.

taking it

Come spring, this might be my last resort here:

We no longer live in a world where workers demand what they think they deserve. The dominant ethos of the modern American labor market is as simple as it is defeatist: Take what you can get.

Nowhere is this clearer than in the world of temp jobs. Underpaid, deathly boring, without benefits, and too short to build a life on, most temp jobs are the stuff of socialist nightmares. One wonders what Eugene Debs might make of the modern office temp: atomized, powerless, totally replaceable, hunched in a cubicle for an hourly pittance that might barely be described as a “living wage” if not for the fact that it could all be over at the end of the week, rent and loan payments be damned.

– See more at:

playing to strengths

I’m still in a sewing class, but I don’t think it will become my hobby for the long haul. It requires a great deal of patience, which is not my strong suit. I have some talent at picking out patterns and colors and designs, but the actual mechanics of sewing frustrate me to no end. And unlike learning to dance or play an instrument or cook, the penalties for mistakes are steep. There’s a lot of thread pulling and re-buying of fabric. And then there’s the machine itself, which has an unfortunate tendency to snarl with thread or otherwise falter.

On the other hand, I’ve thrown myself into cooking with a renewed energy due to bringing home a large box of vegetables from the farm. Occasionally I mess up there too, but my mistakes are usually edible, and if not, they are not all that costly.

Perhaps I should be concentrating more on writing. I’ve always loathed the idea of going back and reading old journals; it seems emotionally excruciating to me. But I finally got my Blurb book versions of this blog out this morning and my initial impression was, “Hmmm… not bad.”

the bad daughter

My mother is a woman who has unfortunate tendencies toward insensitivity, uninformed ideas, contradictory advice, and hysteria. Since she is nearing eighty and unlikely to change, I’ve tried really hard not to lose my temper with her and to spend some quality time with her.

If the job market was friendlier here or I had some support from a partner, this would be easier to accomplish. Since neither of those things are true, I’ve come to dread talking with her on the phone. I’m trying to remain calm and positive in the face of adversity; unfortunately she is no help in that regard.

I feel guilty about it, but I cannot be a good daughter when things are not going well, and she makes them worse.