I signed up for a writing class. It's funny, you go to school for years on end and then you figure out what you want to be doing. Or, in my case, you systematically work through all 100 things you said you wanted to be in the 3rd grade. 7 down, 93 to go!
The straight hair is still going well, it's certainly a different look and sometimes I get confused in the mirror. I also joined a bookclub. Joy to the world, they chose my suggestion Anansi's Boys as the first selection. I lub this book. Neil Gaiman's blog has been nominated for a world blog award, he deserves it.
Just the other day he wrote about the the etymology of one of his character's names. It was downright revelatory for me as a nascent writer. I always wonder who writers choose names and I always have problems choosing names I can stick with and then - shapow - etymology and nordic names are introduced to the equation.
Did I ever mention my Fibonnacci dream? It was the best dream I've had in years and it involved a city made of equations, a rollercoaster ride, my cousins former boyfriend telling me I hadn't been fair to him because he wasn't a TOTAL loser that they were dysfunctional together, and a cute little kid who sang the Fibonnacci song to me every time I got off the rollercoaster - which was more of a rollercoaster/monorail throughout the Equation City.
It was so much fun! It also made me think about how harsh I can be towards other people especially when I perceive someone else as being powerless or being taken advantage of. I read once that there are always three sides to every story His/Hers/and the Truth. I'm a sucker for those I love, I get wound up wanting the best for them, often with more clarity and passion than they want for themselves. The summer of surgery was helpful in that respect. Oddly enough all those people I would have killed for mysteriously disappeared the minute things went south for me, or just before (truly charming to get cursed out within a week of major surgery by someone you love).
On the flip side, there were a gaggle of strangers who made way into my life and committed time, support, energy and goodwill toward my wellbeing. You just never know where help will come from. Goethe has a great quote: "Be bold and Might Forces with Come to Your Aid." I am often arrogant enough to think I can predict where the help will come from and danged if I'm not wrong 99.9% of the time when I'm predicting.
Tomorrow I might have a meeting with a woman who has a truly wretched work history. I've spent a few days being upset about it in varying degrees. I thnk the upset came from feeling vulnerable, exposed - even though I'm the one who knows everything including her last 8 addresses and credit score - I feel vulnerable for having the information and knowing it is not important to the people who are making decisions at this point. The vulnerability probably was a result of wondering if I shouldn't say anything to her about what I think of this whole fucked-up process of hiring the first con-artist who wanders up and smiles pretty. Exposed because she suspects I've been encouraged to turn a blind eye to her foolishness.
But, i've a little surprise to everyone. There is still morphine in my veins and I think the days of Silent-suffering-Camille have officially been declared O.V.E.R. If she comes through to sign paperwork I'll be there with the pen and Direct Deposit form. I'll also explain precisely the sort of employee she has shown herself to be in the past and that I fully expect her to remain. Then i can get on with my life, conscience clear and without having to watch her implode while the powers-that-be look confused and wonder why...(the wondering why is always vague, they tend forget when I show them someone's rap sheet).
At least I'm not alone in this. A friend made me laugh out loud by telling me her company doesn't hesistate to hire folks with drug convictions/pending cases all the time. I may need to just go down to the courthouse and hand out my business card to people entereing and exiting, cut out the middle-man and all the legwork. Plus, I've heard watching cases at the courthouse is big fun especially when the hotshot attorneys are in the house.
Alright, that's me for tonight. Get your gully on...
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