serendipitous

No, not making double digit salary yet. 

Do not even have medical coverage. 

However, volunteering five hours a week (OK sometimes 10+) for a non profit start-up has been so much fun. So really really cool. Meeting intelligent people who love what they are doing for a living and unselfishly trying to make small positive changes in their corners of the world to help others by also volunteering.  People who love art. Love cinema. Love theatre. Love the performing arts. People who love to read.  Love to write. Love to listen. Love food. Love to talk. I love it. 

I have always loved start-ups and the inspiration that collaborative efforts instill. 

Sounds silly, but have not met a group of people like this in a long long long long while. 

Important moments

Being an unemployed New Yorker to many means moving back home. I know a few too many couples who had to come back home to their respective parents and to them that meant being separated - no longer a married couple, but now individuals coming back home to live with the parents. A few brought back their kid(s), the girls going with mom and the boys going with Dad. Then there is a handful of single folks. (I am not even going to add up the amount of unemployed New Yorkers who have had to double and triple up as roommates in their apartments because they have no extended family.)

I was one of the ones that came back home, feeling very ashamed that I could NOT sustain myself after losing my own apartment after exhausting my savings and 401k. Sure I've gotten to know my parents a bit more as an adult, but I'm also reminded almost hourly as to why I moved out at 19 or 20.

There are days that they way the transact with each other melts my heart. The kindness and patience that my dad has for my mom is like none other I've seen. He doesn't only hold the door for her, or pull out the chair, I've seen him lean over and cut her pancakes for her, make breakfast for her.

There are days when I want to run and never look back, my mom clearly always emphasizing, "a mom she to a daughter was not what she was meant to be". She wanted all sons. So I'm like the handbag that doesn't go with any of her outfits. Boy is she a fashionista at heart.

Then there are days, however, that my heart just breaks. Days that that I really feel sad for my parents, and even a touch of empathy for mom. 

Last Monday, when I got back from a "working weekend" my dad excitedly greeted me telling me that my brother had invited them over to their home. My heart just opened up and I literally felt my entire body exhale. Finally. It was like the rain clouds had parted and the sun shone. I was supposed to work on Saturday, but it was really really nice to know that they would be going to visit my brother. "The Grands" were finally going to vist their grandchildren in their snazzy new apartment. 

They went shopping Tuesday. Mom picked up a jacket and was doing her finishing touches on it (she practically redesigns every purchase she makes, not just because she is so very petite, but sewing was always a passion of hers. She wanted to go to FIT to study fashion design. Dad had picked up a new shirt, and they were super excited.

Today was the day. Mom was up at 6:30 a.m. putting the finishing touches on her top, ironing my dad’s slacks and shirt, again. At 10 a.m. they greeted various building contractors and by 11 a.m. my brother showed up.  Within 15 minutes I saw the glimmer of disappointment in my mom’s eyes – I think she realized she misunderstood. He wasn’t coming over to take them out. He was coming over to check on the building and meet with the various contractors. She grudgingly made a short grocery list and asked my dad to go to the market.

At dinner time, my parents and I silently ate…my Dad broke the silence by saying, "I guess your mom and I  misunderstood. When you were in Jersey your brother called and we thought he had called to invite us over to his home this weekend." As I ate dinner, I could not make eye contact with either of them, because if I did -- I knew I’d get teary eyed.

THIS is what my brother fails to see. I saw it when I had my monster apartment and worked 14 hours a day and traveling out of town for work, it smacks me in the face now that I am physically back in the same home as they are. It's not about dropping by with a fancy gift or money. It's not about family gatherings where no one has time to interact on a personal level - just superficial chats and major public comedy jabs at each other.  It's about the inidivdual quality time, a private dinner and conversation, enjoying a show together and having dessert and coffee after to talk. Not a group full of noisiness where no one could be heard but were only two people are the center of attraction and no real conversations are ever had, but lots of gossip follows after. 

I’ve spent the past three years trying to point out to my brother, that he should invite my parents to his home at least more than once a year. Maybe around Christmas time or in the Fall. They lived in the same building for so many years, that when they moved out to the upper east side, I saw my mom age tremendously when her “baking buddy” (my niece) moved out. Kids grow up I understand that. But living in the same state, claiming to be “so close and family oriented” I find it ironic that in three years my parents have only been invited over twice. But I’m the “bitch” who makes a big deal of it. Being a "connector" seems to be a big problem for most folks in my family. 

I wish I had the money to send The Grands off to vacation half the year to spend time with their families out of town, I figured it may be easier to be in another state from this NY based family -- because then its acceptable that you don’t ever call each other and only see other for Christmas. The irony always comes when folks die, and everyone gather’s round to pay their respects -- all a little too late in my book, it should have been done when the person was alive. Let them know when they are alive what they mean to you. 

When I was recently sick and reached out to family - I was told "I could not be loved the way I wanted to" where the f#@k that came from I have no clue. I needed someone to go to a few doctors appointments with me and my head was reeeling and I knew I could not worry The Grands as they are way too fragile at their age. But it hit me, as a dishwasher or as a resource or as comedy act, I am good enough, but to call and say "hey how are you, lets have dinner" -- I am not. That's when it hit me, my family is right in front of me. My parents who took me in and let me move back into my childhood room rent free (and, yes live their rules). My family are the friends who called weekly to say, "how is it going?" Or took the time to say, "lets go to a movie and a cup of hot chocolate, my treat." Friends who took the time to call and to help me forget I was unemployed and did not even have the bus fare to meet them half way. Friends who called and said, "take a drive me with me, keep me company I have a few errands to run" - who did not realize the ability to get and a car and temporarily escape the pressue of "will they call about that resume I sent," "will I have a follow up interview," "how will I pay next months phone bill?" "how do I ask for money again this week for a metro card to get to interviews?"

I am doing the best I can with the means that I have for The Grands - they are what matters...even though I would rather have my teeth pulled out one by one with no anesthia than spend more than 10 minutes with my mom - thank goodness dad is the connector that HE is.  Thank goodness.

When should you quit?

This afternoon I found myself filling in for a former college friend at an event he was to host. He called me at noon or 1 p.m., asking can I be there by 3 p.m.? When I hung up the phone I, literally called him back and it was too late - it went to voice mail. All I could muster up where the words, "are you sure you want ME to do this?" and quickly hung up and stared at the phone waiting for it ring back.

I am super busy and super broke. Last year was a bad year, really bad year along from a whopping 3k income and the marathon fights with Verizon, I was constantly sick. I think I am immune to most antibotics on the market right now. How am I suposed to show up and do this with confidence. I am usually am not a quitter, but he sounded so terribly ill, I knew he really wanted me there.

I wish I had read this article earlier in the day, because as I read it, I thought to myelf I'm doing 80% of the stuff on this list - and NOT even getting paid for it. Hell, I didn't even quit my job to do it. Organically there are some things I gravitate to that I would do for free because I enjoy doing them. The thing is, I'm trying to get paid NOW in real life, in real time.

If I was retired on a pension, with my mortgage fully paid, I would probably be doing exactly the same JOBS I am doing now. I am working with three non profits consulting with them all and there are days I walk away, thinking "damn I am good, but shit, can I get a paycheck?" Or simply, "damn can you pay me within a month window??"

When my former college colleague asked me to step in, by the time I got there, it had all worked out, his organization had their own opening speaker /MC and all I had to do was just do the closing remarks. It was not as stressful as I imagined, I recognized a few people, connected and may have possibly gotten two part-time hires for my organizations (a writer/editor for one and publicity person for the other). (They'll have to find out for themselves how low and infrequently it pays.)

On the way home, I got drenched (literally through to my underwear), my umbrella flew away, my toes where squishing in my boots, but even with the bad weather, I was pretty cool with the fact I overcame that fear of speaking to a group. Am glad I did not quit.