Remember scouts? Goodness knows I loved being a girl scout. Learning new things, going camping, singing songs... That was the life when we were 7 and 8 years old. Good times.
One of the songs we sang went like this:
Make new friends, but keep the old,
One is silver and the other's gold.
Well. Recently I was reminded just how cool it is to have the same friend for a long period of time.
I've known M for 14 years. I can't even believe it's been that long, but yes, we met when we were in our 20s. It was a rambunctious time, and we attended many a happy hour in search of love and good times and revelry.
In recent years, we've both moved to different places (and then moved back), but with M, we can just as easily pick up where we left off, like when we're both "in town" at the same time. This year, our "old" hometown is our "new" hometown again, and we get to socialize from time to time since we live within true driving distance.
These are the things we talk about: brothers, sisters, nieces and nephews, work, vacations, dating, other family members, what we should probably do with our lives, and so forth. Having the familiarity of more than a decade makes most topics accessible, and sometimes we venture into the metaphysical, which is always fun.
Having a friend who you've known for a long time gives you clarity, too. They were there for different stages of your life, so who better to recall those times with? She said something to me recently that sticks out. We were discussing my ex-boyfriend, and she said three words that validated my opinion, which were, "He was angry."
Strangely, I had just written something about him. My writing group (full of old friends, one of whom I've known since about 1994!) provided the motivation of writing about "the feeling of being stuck." And so, I thought about that relationship and wrote a story about it.
Part of me is always second-guessing myself, so when M said she always thought he was angry, I felt relieved. I have so many memories of feeling trapped in dealing with him, and I wonder if my view of him was altered by other things in my history. Hearing her succinct summary, though, made my day.
My writing buddy K happened to know the weirdo from my last post whom I completely ignored when I saw him (the weirdo) at the restaurant recently. K told me, after I told him about the run-in, that, "He is a master manipulator." This reinforced my satisfaction with how I handled the incident, as with this weirdo in particular, if you give him an inch, he'll take a mile.
So, when I am in doubt, my longtime friends come to my aid with their observations and their humor too. I know friends are great no matter how long you've known them, but sometimes the best sounding boards are the ones who know you and the other people in your life, who've witnessed the interactions and seen the effects.
Longtime friends, you are awesome!
Love,
Jane
Wednesday, 22 May 2013
Tuesday, 14 May 2013
Something Must Fall By the Way Side... You Heard Me!
My boyfriend recently asked me, from the Book of Questions:
Q: "If you could sleep for 2 hours every night and wake up feeling refreshed, and have the rest of the time to pursue whatever interests you wish to pursue, would you do it?"
A: Yes. No, I mean: HELL YES.
Sometimes I have to sit back and wonder, Am I too motivated? This never happened to me in earlier years. I guess I was too busy then to stop and wonder if I was too motivated. These days, though, something always falls by the wayside. There is just not enough time for everything.
One time, when I was on vacation with a few of my longtime dear friends, we met up with a couple of older dudes on a river rafting tour. (They were impressed that we were there; their own wives were having a spa day.) They asked us what we did for a living, and I told them I was a writer, and then someone mentioned that I acted, and they asked what was my career? So I responded (and I hope that this doesn't or didn't sound too obnoxious) that I have lived many lives. I was busy all the time, doing all kinds of stuff. And, I still try, although I don't think I match the energy I used to have.
There is a quote attributed to Johnny Depp: "They told me I could be whatever I wanted to be so I did." And then there's picture montage of him as a groom, a dad, a brother, a tranny, chocolate maker, chocolate eater, psychotic writer #1, psychotic writer #2, psychotic writer #3, greaser, emo wolverine...
I suppose, in a way, that I wish I was more like Johnny Depp. But we can be grateful that he functions as inspiration, both in the way that we are inspired with dreamy thoughts when we look at him and the fact that he is such a prolific and inspired actor.
Yours,
Jane
Q: "If you could sleep for 2 hours every night and wake up feeling refreshed, and have the rest of the time to pursue whatever interests you wish to pursue, would you do it?"
A: Yes. No, I mean: HELL YES.
Sometimes I have to sit back and wonder, Am I too motivated? This never happened to me in earlier years. I guess I was too busy then to stop and wonder if I was too motivated. These days, though, something always falls by the wayside. There is just not enough time for everything.
One time, when I was on vacation with a few of my longtime dear friends, we met up with a couple of older dudes on a river rafting tour. (They were impressed that we were there; their own wives were having a spa day.) They asked us what we did for a living, and I told them I was a writer, and then someone mentioned that I acted, and they asked what was my career? So I responded (and I hope that this doesn't or didn't sound too obnoxious) that I have lived many lives. I was busy all the time, doing all kinds of stuff. And, I still try, although I don't think I match the energy I used to have.
There is a quote attributed to Johnny Depp: "They told me I could be whatever I wanted to be so I did." And then there's picture montage of him as a groom, a dad, a brother, a tranny, chocolate maker, chocolate eater, psychotic writer #1, psychotic writer #2, psychotic writer #3, greaser, emo wolverine...
I suppose, in a way, that I wish I was more like Johnny Depp. But we can be grateful that he functions as inspiration, both in the way that we are inspired with dreamy thoughts when we look at him and the fact that he is such a prolific and inspired actor.
Yours,
Jane
Sunday, 12 May 2013
Finding the Motivation
I swear, there are not enough hours in the day. Really.
Some people gauge their progress by doing this by age 25, something else by age 30, and this big laundry list of things by age 40, etc.
When I was 25, the excuse for not writing all the screenplays and being in all the theatre and film projects in the world at that point was that I was busy going to pubs and drinking, obtaining "real life" experience for what I wanted to write later on. Really, I had tons of energy and had to run it off one way or another :)
By age 30, I was jettisoning a crappy boyfriend and learning the lesson of how one person can have a detrimental effect on your life. My cholesterol and weight were up, my happiness levels were low, and my stress levels were off the charts. I gave myself a pass for not having more done by that age because I had to deal with him- all the pressures of being with him, coupled with the pressure to stay with him from the collective chorus of people around me who judged me for not being able to keep a relationship going. It was a rough time. So on my 30th birthday, I was just happy to have a new haircut with bangs, friends to go see a Pirates of the Caribbean movie with, and rum to drink.
As I approach the big 4-0, I have 2 book projects in progress, a full-time job, a long-distance relationship, and the burning desire to get back into good physical shape. Also, I have health issues now from surgery that I have to manage for the rest of my life; I have to cook for myself a lot, and that in itself is a part-time job for which I don't receive compensation.
Point being, something always falls by the wayside. I have to have relationships with people, too. I have to exercise. I have to sleep. I have to work. So it is hard, sometimes, to keep all these balls in the air.
Ha ha, I just wrote balls in the air. Anyway, friends, I wanted to write something today, and this is what it turned out to be.
Obviously I need to get going. Happy week ahead, my friends!
Love,
Jane
Some people gauge their progress by doing this by age 25, something else by age 30, and this big laundry list of things by age 40, etc.
When I was 25, the excuse for not writing all the screenplays and being in all the theatre and film projects in the world at that point was that I was busy going to pubs and drinking, obtaining "real life" experience for what I wanted to write later on. Really, I had tons of energy and had to run it off one way or another :)
By age 30, I was jettisoning a crappy boyfriend and learning the lesson of how one person can have a detrimental effect on your life. My cholesterol and weight were up, my happiness levels were low, and my stress levels were off the charts. I gave myself a pass for not having more done by that age because I had to deal with him- all the pressures of being with him, coupled with the pressure to stay with him from the collective chorus of people around me who judged me for not being able to keep a relationship going. It was a rough time. So on my 30th birthday, I was just happy to have a new haircut with bangs, friends to go see a Pirates of the Caribbean movie with, and rum to drink.
As I approach the big 4-0, I have 2 book projects in progress, a full-time job, a long-distance relationship, and the burning desire to get back into good physical shape. Also, I have health issues now from surgery that I have to manage for the rest of my life; I have to cook for myself a lot, and that in itself is a part-time job for which I don't receive compensation.
Point being, something always falls by the wayside. I have to have relationships with people, too. I have to exercise. I have to sleep. I have to work. So it is hard, sometimes, to keep all these balls in the air.
Ha ha, I just wrote balls in the air. Anyway, friends, I wanted to write something today, and this is what it turned out to be.
Obviously I need to get going. Happy week ahead, my friends!
Love,
Jane
Saturday, 4 May 2013
Sorry, all your turns have been used up. Our soul contract has expired. You can go and be a train wreck in peace now.
I ran into someone last night who brought out some pretty interesting feelings. Basically, the following:
- I was raised with these Christian ethics about turning the other cheek, being tolerant, and all that. Soooo, because I was adverse to conflicts, I let a lot of bad behavior slide in my early days. Some friends took advantage of this, and of course those "friendships" always ended and never ended well.
- I tend to save all my frustration up and then blow like a powder keg. It's taken me almost 4 decades to be more direct in my communication with people. I know this is a weakness, and I am working on it. Still, I've tried to be polite, and people have taken advantage sometimes.
So anyway, last night I came almost face-to-face with someone I knew in my past. He had (maybe still has) a terrible drinking problem and is very angry. He's been very disrespectful to his girlfriends over the years, some of whom I've known, and has talked a lot of crap about people he's supposedly friends with behind their backs.
I used to tolerate it for 2 reasons: 1) because he would always talk about what great friends we were, and how we had this great friendship, and this subliminal manipulation worked for a long time; and 2) because he was never overtly disrespectful to me.
The proverbial straws that broke my back were: his escalating alcoholism, escalating a-holish behavior, and a report from a friend of mine that he was now talking $hit about me. Unacceptable.
I moved apartments and shut off the phone, to get rid of him and someone else similar to him I had known in college whom I didn't want to know anymore (female, and drank quite a bit less, but still seething in negativity). It seemed I didn't want to make any graceful excuses to these people about why hadn't I called and then end up dealing with their drama, probably based in insecurity.
I made a promise to myself after I dealt with the last alcohol-steeped a-holish encounter with this fool. I left and never went back. He called me after I'd left his house wondering when I'd be back and I said, "You can be as big of a train wreck as you want, but I'm not watching it anymore, and I'm not even going to pretend that it's OK with me. It's not."
Some new age types say there are cords of energy that connect people. Well, I severed that cord. I promised myself that he would no longer be someone I'd acknowledge. Ever. For the rest of my life. It was one of the easiest promises I've ever made. If you are familiar with astrology, you know that someone like me can be a champion grudge-holder. Maybe even take it as far as the Olympics (although really I would have preferred to be a gymnast there!)
So last night, of course, of all the restaurants in all the towns in all the world, who should be seated next to Diva and me but A-hole and his date.
Conveniently, my deaf ear was facing his table. Diva looked at me and mouthed, "Is that A-hole?" (She knew him back in the old days of college.) I responded with a panicked widening of my eyes. Then she mouthed, "He looks OLD!" and we laughed, mainly because that's what drinking way too much and smoking for 15-20 years will do to a person, and of course she and I are steeped in loveliness and youth even at this advanced age.
Then, we talked about our upcoming travel plans. I mean, it needed to be discussed and we had to do something to keep the focus off the people next to us, divided by some wooden slats and a low wall.
He knew I was there. He kept looking at me, driving the fight-or-flight response I was experiencing and using my acting skills not to show. I wonder if it was unnerving to him too. Diva said he was being his charming self with his date, whom I didn't see. I was too busy looking at Diva and all areas to the right of her so that his eyes would not meet mine. We were busy planning our road trip rendezvous anyway.
Some say souls have contracts, and that we know and plan our lives before we're even born (and then, naturally, forget everything and have to learn it again). The idea of soul mates comes from the concept that perhaps we've known other souls in other lives when we occupied other bodies. See the movie Cloud Atlas for some sort of representation of this. (It is a fantastic movie, by the way!)
Anyway, just as there are positive soul connections, there can be negative ones as well. Whenever someone is a part of my life for decades, the question will occur to me: what is the glue that keeps us in touch? Some connections, relationships, and experiences create a strong bond, and there isn't necessarily a rhyme or reason to it. I met my boyfriend as a teenager, didn't see him for 22 years, and somehow he seemed special to me when we "re-met" on Facebook. There was something familiar about him and very lovable even though I had no rational basis for this judgment. So, perhaps our souls have an agreement as well. We had no trouble at all emailing and speaking with each other again. It really had a quality of comfort and happiness to it, for us to be in touch. So there's that.
And perhaps A-hole and I had a contract, but upon my last train-wrecky exchange with him, that was severed. There was a new understanding that I developed from him and others who've pushed my buttons, that I don't have to be kind and welcoming to every train wreck who finds me and tries to use me as a floatation device in the ocean of life. I was too nice before. It occurs me that people I admire for their spiritual development don't hang around with addicts and people who point fingers at everything else in life, making excuses for their own lack of progress. So, why can't I be more like those people?
Indeed. Heavy thoughts for a Saturday morning friends. Wishing you all a wonderful and relaxing weekend.
Love,
Jane
- I was raised with these Christian ethics about turning the other cheek, being tolerant, and all that. Soooo, because I was adverse to conflicts, I let a lot of bad behavior slide in my early days. Some friends took advantage of this, and of course those "friendships" always ended and never ended well.
- I tend to save all my frustration up and then blow like a powder keg. It's taken me almost 4 decades to be more direct in my communication with people. I know this is a weakness, and I am working on it. Still, I've tried to be polite, and people have taken advantage sometimes.
So anyway, last night I came almost face-to-face with someone I knew in my past. He had (maybe still has) a terrible drinking problem and is very angry. He's been very disrespectful to his girlfriends over the years, some of whom I've known, and has talked a lot of crap about people he's supposedly friends with behind their backs.
I used to tolerate it for 2 reasons: 1) because he would always talk about what great friends we were, and how we had this great friendship, and this subliminal manipulation worked for a long time; and 2) because he was never overtly disrespectful to me.
The proverbial straws that broke my back were: his escalating alcoholism, escalating a-holish behavior, and a report from a friend of mine that he was now talking $hit about me. Unacceptable.
I moved apartments and shut off the phone, to get rid of him and someone else similar to him I had known in college whom I didn't want to know anymore (female, and drank quite a bit less, but still seething in negativity). It seemed I didn't want to make any graceful excuses to these people about why hadn't I called and then end up dealing with their drama, probably based in insecurity.
I made a promise to myself after I dealt with the last alcohol-steeped a-holish encounter with this fool. I left and never went back. He called me after I'd left his house wondering when I'd be back and I said, "You can be as big of a train wreck as you want, but I'm not watching it anymore, and I'm not even going to pretend that it's OK with me. It's not."
Some new age types say there are cords of energy that connect people. Well, I severed that cord. I promised myself that he would no longer be someone I'd acknowledge. Ever. For the rest of my life. It was one of the easiest promises I've ever made. If you are familiar with astrology, you know that someone like me can be a champion grudge-holder. Maybe even take it as far as the Olympics (although really I would have preferred to be a gymnast there!)
So last night, of course, of all the restaurants in all the towns in all the world, who should be seated next to Diva and me but A-hole and his date.
Conveniently, my deaf ear was facing his table. Diva looked at me and mouthed, "Is that A-hole?" (She knew him back in the old days of college.) I responded with a panicked widening of my eyes. Then she mouthed, "He looks OLD!" and we laughed, mainly because that's what drinking way too much and smoking for 15-20 years will do to a person, and of course she and I are steeped in loveliness and youth even at this advanced age.
Then, we talked about our upcoming travel plans. I mean, it needed to be discussed and we had to do something to keep the focus off the people next to us, divided by some wooden slats and a low wall.
He knew I was there. He kept looking at me, driving the fight-or-flight response I was experiencing and using my acting skills not to show. I wonder if it was unnerving to him too. Diva said he was being his charming self with his date, whom I didn't see. I was too busy looking at Diva and all areas to the right of her so that his eyes would not meet mine. We were busy planning our road trip rendezvous anyway.
Some say souls have contracts, and that we know and plan our lives before we're even born (and then, naturally, forget everything and have to learn it again). The idea of soul mates comes from the concept that perhaps we've known other souls in other lives when we occupied other bodies. See the movie Cloud Atlas for some sort of representation of this. (It is a fantastic movie, by the way!)
Anyway, just as there are positive soul connections, there can be negative ones as well. Whenever someone is a part of my life for decades, the question will occur to me: what is the glue that keeps us in touch? Some connections, relationships, and experiences create a strong bond, and there isn't necessarily a rhyme or reason to it. I met my boyfriend as a teenager, didn't see him for 22 years, and somehow he seemed special to me when we "re-met" on Facebook. There was something familiar about him and very lovable even though I had no rational basis for this judgment. So, perhaps our souls have an agreement as well. We had no trouble at all emailing and speaking with each other again. It really had a quality of comfort and happiness to it, for us to be in touch. So there's that.
And perhaps A-hole and I had a contract, but upon my last train-wrecky exchange with him, that was severed. There was a new understanding that I developed from him and others who've pushed my buttons, that I don't have to be kind and welcoming to every train wreck who finds me and tries to use me as a floatation device in the ocean of life. I was too nice before. It occurs me that people I admire for their spiritual development don't hang around with addicts and people who point fingers at everything else in life, making excuses for their own lack of progress. So, why can't I be more like those people?
Indeed. Heavy thoughts for a Saturday morning friends. Wishing you all a wonderful and relaxing weekend.
Love,
Jane
Sunday, 21 April 2013
Lord, it's hard to be humble when you're perfect in every way
The title of this blog is actually song lyrics. Yes, song lyrics. We always thought it was funny, that song. I think it came out in the 1980s when, let's face it, the world was a different place. Tycoons and high-achievers were celebrated more than they are now. It was just the culture of America then.
Having spent a little time in the Deep South, I've become aware of what a sin it is to think highly of yourself. And by highly, I mean, having what I consider to be healthy self-esteem.
This trait really conflicts with the overall American idea of a healthy self-image.
I recall some people displaying a lot of frustration with me, yet being unable to explain why. I got a cryptic message from one of them via email about how I needed to "change my ways." I changed my ways, all right, and quit talking to her. But I'm sure that my response ignited her fury. I basically asked, "What ways of mine need changing and why? How are you qualified to judge me and my ways and tell me they are wrong?" Which is a nice way of saying, Buzz off, a-hole.
Listen, I don't think I'm perfect, but I am trying to be a good person every day. It's just that I was judged and scrutinized so much growing up that I choose not to carry on that pattern, while some think it's their duty to do this to others. Aside from horrible crimes against others who do not consent to be involved with your schemes, believe me, if you are making choices for yourself that only affect yourself and the people who choose to associate with you, I don't need to weigh in with an opinion. I don't think it's my business.
I think that's where the disconnect happens for me and some of the churchier folk I meet. Some people love it when you accept them and their beliefs, but they don't want you to extend that acceptance toward anyone else who believes something that they don't believe. And they sure as hell don't want you to believe whatever you want; they want you to believe what they believe, because it's "right" and everything else is "wrong."
The concept of pridefulness has always baffled me. It's kind of like the myth of Icarus. Fly too close to the ground, you crash. Fly too close to the sun, your wings fall apart and then you crash. Only the ones who fly in this one accepted zone can make it safely to their destination.
It encourages all these churchy types to blend in; nobody should stand out because that's prideful. You're not allowed to be proud of yourself and your accomplishments because that means you're bragging on yourself. This totally flies in the face of a few things: American culture, pride in a job well done, the concept of mentoring people along their paths, and overall self-expression.
I don't get it. Part of me wants to try to understand, while a bigger part of me is glad to have escaped an environment where people were really concerned with stuff like this.
I wish you the best of weeks ahead, friends. This past week was a difficult one and I hope things will calm down, both on the news and in our lives.
Love,
Jane
Having spent a little time in the Deep South, I've become aware of what a sin it is to think highly of yourself. And by highly, I mean, having what I consider to be healthy self-esteem.
This trait really conflicts with the overall American idea of a healthy self-image.
I recall some people displaying a lot of frustration with me, yet being unable to explain why. I got a cryptic message from one of them via email about how I needed to "change my ways." I changed my ways, all right, and quit talking to her. But I'm sure that my response ignited her fury. I basically asked, "What ways of mine need changing and why? How are you qualified to judge me and my ways and tell me they are wrong?" Which is a nice way of saying, Buzz off, a-hole.
Listen, I don't think I'm perfect, but I am trying to be a good person every day. It's just that I was judged and scrutinized so much growing up that I choose not to carry on that pattern, while some think it's their duty to do this to others. Aside from horrible crimes against others who do not consent to be involved with your schemes, believe me, if you are making choices for yourself that only affect yourself and the people who choose to associate with you, I don't need to weigh in with an opinion. I don't think it's my business.
I think that's where the disconnect happens for me and some of the churchier folk I meet. Some people love it when you accept them and their beliefs, but they don't want you to extend that acceptance toward anyone else who believes something that they don't believe. And they sure as hell don't want you to believe whatever you want; they want you to believe what they believe, because it's "right" and everything else is "wrong."
The concept of pridefulness has always baffled me. It's kind of like the myth of Icarus. Fly too close to the ground, you crash. Fly too close to the sun, your wings fall apart and then you crash. Only the ones who fly in this one accepted zone can make it safely to their destination.
It encourages all these churchy types to blend in; nobody should stand out because that's prideful. You're not allowed to be proud of yourself and your accomplishments because that means you're bragging on yourself. This totally flies in the face of a few things: American culture, pride in a job well done, the concept of mentoring people along their paths, and overall self-expression.
I don't get it. Part of me wants to try to understand, while a bigger part of me is glad to have escaped an environment where people were really concerned with stuff like this.
I wish you the best of weeks ahead, friends. This past week was a difficult one and I hope things will calm down, both on the news and in our lives.
Love,
Jane
Sunday, 17 March 2013
The struggle with ego
Sometimes I use judgmental language, I know. I am viewing people through the scope of my own experience. Really, I have to accept that this is a different person with a different view of life. And while I don't see eye to eye with this person, I know he or she is entitled to an opinion just like I am entitled to mine.
Which brings us to L. L is a woman I knew in Winterville who can't make it on her own. She lives in a mansion (not an exaggeration, a huuuuuge home in a beauuuutiful neighborhood) out of the charity of the home owner, who she convinced she could assist with the running of the home in exchange for free room and board. Now, I know there are a lot of tasks associated with running a home, and I don't belittle that, but as someone who tried to rent a room out of her brand-new Winterville home five years ago in an effort to make money and cover her bills, and who met a lot of people who presented L's suggestion about living there for free, I sure as heck didn't appreciate it. Well, I was poor, and the home lost half its value and I couldn't sell it, and for a while I was jobless and on unemployment, so I didn't have the capacity for charity... it's not like I had so much and could afford to have someone there not paying. And, it's not really in my background to have this type of arrangement. I don't come from some wealthy type of family that doesn't need income.
Anyway, L was recently arrested for shoplifting. Yes, shoplifting. Because living in a mansion for free apparently isn't enough. Living for free, and using her food stamps to subsidize her living and house parties, and who knows what other entitlements that she receives (that people like me pay for) apparently isn't enough. Now L needs new free clothes too?
I wouldn't have known about this if Diva wasn't still Facebook friends with S. S is a woman who has deleted me off her friends list as both Jane and my "real" name. I am not sure of her reason and didn't ask. I know that when we met, we were both at the bottom of the barrel, couldn't find work, couldn't find good people, and stuck in Winterville, so I gave this a pass. I figured, if she wants to move out of that time in her life and not be reminded of the people she knew then, more power to her. Although she and I won't be meeting up and discussing things, I think we can agree that we both deserved better than that.
S pasted a link to the Winterville mug shot website with a description of why L was arrested. Apparently, they had a big fight months ago when S caught L shoplifting at TJMaxx. S said L was stupid. L said, "No, they (meaning the people in the store) are stupid." (So it's OK to steal from stupid people? And it's OK to steal? Noted.) They stopped talking and being friends.
Again, I would have known about none of this unless L had made such a fuss about it. She'd call me up and go over this "fight" they had that probably never took place. "S was mean to me because I got lost on the way to her apartment and took too long getting there. S was mad at me because she wanted me to date some guy who lives in an RV. Can you imagine? I'm dating someone who has a plane!" (and a few other girlfriends, it turned out. Surprise, surprise.)
L spent a few weeks ringing my phone so she could malign S. She'd complain endlessly about being deleted from Facebook; it took me at least a month to realize S had deleted me too. She tried to bait me into saying bad things about S. There were some pauses in the conversation when I wouldn't take the bait. I don't want to be like that. I'd say, "Listen, I don't want to hear you talk badly about her. Sure, he has her issues, but so do the rest of us, and you need to let this go."
Of course, S has a criminal past as well. It was a long time ago, and doesn't reflect what she does now, but it does exist. So her trotting out the information about L's arrest didn't seem fair, either. Pot, have you met Kettle?
I can't even take sides in this. S doesn't talk to me and I don't have any reason to call her. L is probably too embarrassed to get in touch, although she's started sprinkling comments on Facebook again since she got out of jail. I don't have anything nice to say, and I'm trying not to say anything.
I know using judgmental language is wrong, and judging people isn't the best thing, either. However, we all tend to choose people as friends and acquaintances who fit our values. Dr. Wayne Dyer talks about this- shifting to a higher frequency, that sort of thing. He's a very spiritual dude, and I don't see him hanging out with addicts or thieves.
I do get disappointed sometimes.
Sigh! Well, thanks for listening, friends. I hope the upcoming week is a lot of fun for you. And have fun being Irish today!
Yours,
Jane
Which brings us to L. L is a woman I knew in Winterville who can't make it on her own. She lives in a mansion (not an exaggeration, a huuuuuge home in a beauuuutiful neighborhood) out of the charity of the home owner, who she convinced she could assist with the running of the home in exchange for free room and board. Now, I know there are a lot of tasks associated with running a home, and I don't belittle that, but as someone who tried to rent a room out of her brand-new Winterville home five years ago in an effort to make money and cover her bills, and who met a lot of people who presented L's suggestion about living there for free, I sure as heck didn't appreciate it. Well, I was poor, and the home lost half its value and I couldn't sell it, and for a while I was jobless and on unemployment, so I didn't have the capacity for charity... it's not like I had so much and could afford to have someone there not paying. And, it's not really in my background to have this type of arrangement. I don't come from some wealthy type of family that doesn't need income.
Anyway, L was recently arrested for shoplifting. Yes, shoplifting. Because living in a mansion for free apparently isn't enough. Living for free, and using her food stamps to subsidize her living and house parties, and who knows what other entitlements that she receives (that people like me pay for) apparently isn't enough. Now L needs new free clothes too?
I wouldn't have known about this if Diva wasn't still Facebook friends with S. S is a woman who has deleted me off her friends list as both Jane and my "real" name. I am not sure of her reason and didn't ask. I know that when we met, we were both at the bottom of the barrel, couldn't find work, couldn't find good people, and stuck in Winterville, so I gave this a pass. I figured, if she wants to move out of that time in her life and not be reminded of the people she knew then, more power to her. Although she and I won't be meeting up and discussing things, I think we can agree that we both deserved better than that.
S pasted a link to the Winterville mug shot website with a description of why L was arrested. Apparently, they had a big fight months ago when S caught L shoplifting at TJMaxx. S said L was stupid. L said, "No, they (meaning the people in the store) are stupid." (So it's OK to steal from stupid people? And it's OK to steal? Noted.) They stopped talking and being friends.
Again, I would have known about none of this unless L had made such a fuss about it. She'd call me up and go over this "fight" they had that probably never took place. "S was mean to me because I got lost on the way to her apartment and took too long getting there. S was mad at me because she wanted me to date some guy who lives in an RV. Can you imagine? I'm dating someone who has a plane!" (and a few other girlfriends, it turned out. Surprise, surprise.)
L spent a few weeks ringing my phone so she could malign S. She'd complain endlessly about being deleted from Facebook; it took me at least a month to realize S had deleted me too. She tried to bait me into saying bad things about S. There were some pauses in the conversation when I wouldn't take the bait. I don't want to be like that. I'd say, "Listen, I don't want to hear you talk badly about her. Sure, he has her issues, but so do the rest of us, and you need to let this go."
Of course, S has a criminal past as well. It was a long time ago, and doesn't reflect what she does now, but it does exist. So her trotting out the information about L's arrest didn't seem fair, either. Pot, have you met Kettle?
I can't even take sides in this. S doesn't talk to me and I don't have any reason to call her. L is probably too embarrassed to get in touch, although she's started sprinkling comments on Facebook again since she got out of jail. I don't have anything nice to say, and I'm trying not to say anything.
I know using judgmental language is wrong, and judging people isn't the best thing, either. However, we all tend to choose people as friends and acquaintances who fit our values. Dr. Wayne Dyer talks about this- shifting to a higher frequency, that sort of thing. He's a very spiritual dude, and I don't see him hanging out with addicts or thieves.
I do get disappointed sometimes.
Sigh! Well, thanks for listening, friends. I hope the upcoming week is a lot of fun for you. And have fun being Irish today!
Yours,
Jane
Tuesday, 5 March 2013
Sentimentality is the Ally of Delusion
I have a friend I knew in the bad old days. D had no job when I had a crappy one, and then when both of us were unemployed, and then when I worked full-time and could not make ends meet and she lived with her parents and managed a makeup counter, her true career having been grounded by the Great Recession.
D was the first to break free of Winterville and get back into her chosen profession, which she actually performs on the road all the time. I struggled at my prior position, had some times of relative sanity when the bills were under control but before my illness, which messed up my finances in a big way as you could imagine, and now I am free of both Winterville and the old circumstances. Thank goodness. It's been a long, hard row to hoe. I'm glad to be on the other side of that crisis.
We met because she volunteered at a theatre where I sometimes volunteered and sometimes performed. D was miserable then. Well, we all were. I met some pretty interesting people there. One explained why natives ostracized me, being a sympathetic native herself. Another was a very angry person who would later, after my friend D's exit, start up some junior-high style campaign in which I would be excluded and made to feel like an outsider. I stopped talking to her and the sympathetic native when all that $hit hit the fan, and I explained to D this situation; she could sympathize with me from the safety of being Far Away and employed in a capacity that allowed her proper distance.
D's status the other day on Facebook was something like: "Feeling nostalgic for my time at Winterville Theatre" with Angry Person, Sympathetic Native, and a bunch of other actors from those days. I was not included, although I was there then.
So now that D has a full bank account and a glittering successful career and a full life, she is nostalgic for the times when she had no money and lived with her parents and hung out with a bunch of underemployed miserable people in an economically depressed region? Whaaatt???
Dear Goddess, of all the things to be nostalgic about! Let me tell you about how it does NOT break my heart that those days are over. In fact, I am quite relieved. If you'd told me a few years ago that I'd end up living in a great place, surrounded by loved ones, with a long-distance boyfriend whom I've loved since I was 16, and real opportunities ahead in my career, I would have thought you were insane. I don't know if I would have known it was possible, given that I was surrounded by such difficulties, and, aside from people like D, difficult people too.
So maybe Facebook is just wrong for me. Maybe my boyfriend was right to give it up. Because I didn't appreciate being reminded of those crappy times, and I didn't appreciate having been edited out of D's recollection of it, probably to appease Angry Person.
A book I have, Lovingkindness Meditation, talks a lot about sentimentality being an ally of delusion. D could be sentimental about those days and just remember what she wanted to, editing out the rest. Were they so great? Nope. But hey, volunteering at the theatre got us all out of the house. At least there was that.
I think I had more fun in the past 2 months, when I was in transition between Winterville and the new city and I lived near work, than I had in the 5 years I lived in Winterville.
Wow.
Here's my status update: Damn glad to be living in the here and now!
Yours truly,
Jane
D was the first to break free of Winterville and get back into her chosen profession, which she actually performs on the road all the time. I struggled at my prior position, had some times of relative sanity when the bills were under control but before my illness, which messed up my finances in a big way as you could imagine, and now I am free of both Winterville and the old circumstances. Thank goodness. It's been a long, hard row to hoe. I'm glad to be on the other side of that crisis.
We met because she volunteered at a theatre where I sometimes volunteered and sometimes performed. D was miserable then. Well, we all were. I met some pretty interesting people there. One explained why natives ostracized me, being a sympathetic native herself. Another was a very angry person who would later, after my friend D's exit, start up some junior-high style campaign in which I would be excluded and made to feel like an outsider. I stopped talking to her and the sympathetic native when all that $hit hit the fan, and I explained to D this situation; she could sympathize with me from the safety of being Far Away and employed in a capacity that allowed her proper distance.
D's status the other day on Facebook was something like: "Feeling nostalgic for my time at Winterville Theatre" with Angry Person, Sympathetic Native, and a bunch of other actors from those days. I was not included, although I was there then.
So now that D has a full bank account and a glittering successful career and a full life, she is nostalgic for the times when she had no money and lived with her parents and hung out with a bunch of underemployed miserable people in an economically depressed region? Whaaatt???
Dear Goddess, of all the things to be nostalgic about! Let me tell you about how it does NOT break my heart that those days are over. In fact, I am quite relieved. If you'd told me a few years ago that I'd end up living in a great place, surrounded by loved ones, with a long-distance boyfriend whom I've loved since I was 16, and real opportunities ahead in my career, I would have thought you were insane. I don't know if I would have known it was possible, given that I was surrounded by such difficulties, and, aside from people like D, difficult people too.
So maybe Facebook is just wrong for me. Maybe my boyfriend was right to give it up. Because I didn't appreciate being reminded of those crappy times, and I didn't appreciate having been edited out of D's recollection of it, probably to appease Angry Person.
A book I have, Lovingkindness Meditation, talks a lot about sentimentality being an ally of delusion. D could be sentimental about those days and just remember what she wanted to, editing out the rest. Were they so great? Nope. But hey, volunteering at the theatre got us all out of the house. At least there was that.
I think I had more fun in the past 2 months, when I was in transition between Winterville and the new city and I lived near work, than I had in the 5 years I lived in Winterville.
Wow.
Here's my status update: Damn glad to be living in the here and now!
Yours truly,
Jane
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