Exodus

In my three score years living in Los Angeles I've never seen such an unruly exodus from this once paradise playground to the glamland icon. All ages, races, religions, genders and those of unknown origin are fleeing the iconic laden tinseltown in such large numbers that for the fist time in CA history more Californians are leaving than moving in the Golden State.

Its upsetting and ironic in that I first saw this exodus coming a long long time ago like a runaway freight train and am now the last one standing. Last in line. So, I feel the loss of friends, neighbors, and acquaintances and chastising myself for not joining the bandwagon early enough.

The cState is broke, the taxes are outrageous and the once plentiful services are diminishing at a rapid rate that is more noticeable than Al Gore's slowly boiling frog. Its so time to move on but I have cold feet that need to held to the fire so I can get moving again.

I'm still in motion but need to act quickly enough to flee this Sodom and Gomorrah before I turn to stone.

I'm dancing as fast as I can but where is my next stop?

Memories

Dear Blog,
I don't remember much of my past. Rarely a tidbit from the time I was a tiny tot until I reached those strange years of puberty. But I'd like know more about those unsettled times. I'm intrigued by childhood stories of others as I listen to them carefully at BBQ, cocktail parties and artists' receptions.
A former shrink once told me something exceedingly traumatic occurred during that decade. So, I thought that's why she charges $250 an hour to tell me something Sherlock Holmes could have deduced after the word "puberty." She's still shrinking other super-egos and ids. Hm.
Lately I think so hard about prying open the past it hurts. But I feel thinking about it might help me discover why and who I am today.

Once in while strange Salvador Dali-like images spur bizarre memories which appear in the form of dreams like the one above. So I don't know if those horrific moments or strangely scripted times truly occurred in the past or are merely figments of my imagination that lie in the depths of my odd dreams. Either case, they're uncomfortably interesting and strangly exciting. I'll use them as material for my new book or admittance to a good hospital if I can grab that pencil and paper at 3:12 in the morning and quickly write it down before it vanishes like my past.

Bye

Catharsis

Giving away my old rarely or never worn clothes was not as easy as I thought as they all had memories attached. Filling up my car with hundreds of pounds of useful goods and dropping them off to a charity whose recipients would wear them for warmth and cover rather than for name and style was a warm and welcome thought.
A sigh of relief too feeling I had actually contributed something valuable to others rather than holding on to the past for my own ego.
The experience was so cathartic I collapsed on the floor of exhaustion at the end of the day.
What next? Why continue to collect my so-called collectibles for those in need.
On a selfish note I didn't realize how relieved I felt afterward of relieving myself of such a burden.

A catharsis indeed.

In Motion

I'm dancing as fast as I can on the employment trail ballroom.

But, first we need to change the word unemployed as it carries such a deeply negative stigma you might as well put a sign on your forehead, "keep back 200 feet."

Some suggested new names to replace unemployed are: Pre-Employed, In Motion, Used Worker, Just Waiting, Employment Challanged or just plain Looking.

I like In Motion as it sounds fluid, flexible and spiritual.

The day in the life of an In Motion person can be challenging for sure. That's why we need to be In Motion all the time like a shark who languishes if not continually moving, filling his gills with oxygen.

Being In Motion keeps your body, spirit and mind active. But more importantly it keeps your friends, relatives and neighbors from thinking of you as a worthless lazy bump on a log.
Perception is everything.

Being In Motion is essential since the title unemployed is like having cancer except people don't visit or call to ask how you're doing because they already know and are afraid they might catch it. Heaven forbid.

Typical In Motion day: Wake up early and go to the nearest coffee shop. Enjoy your morning brew and blueberry scone while reading the New York Times, Wall Street Journal and local rags to keep abreast of the outside world and offer intelligent conversations during rare social events and less frequent job interviews. "Oh, yes. The recession has bottomed out. Or, maybe not. What do you think Ms. Smith?"

Now find a fast computer with an interenet connection and go through the usual 183 fields in each on-line job application for which you may or may not be qualified.

Although its rare to receive a reply from the private sector, at least I look forward the government job replies which are concise, explanatory and direct. Funny, if I feel depressed I just read one of the job rejections and feel good that at least someone has written to me. Thank you Uncle Sam. Nowadays you're the only who writes.

Every day is a learning day. Always learn something new with continuing education. Get online again after you've wiped your tears away and learn to type , calculate or be a better grammarian. Better yet, a better human being.

If you're out and about find a clean quiet spot indoors or out and take a meditative moment to rejuvenate your soul. Wash away those nagging thoughts and take a breather. If you have a book, read a chapter or two and take nap if you can without being perceived as a homeless person.

Go home, clean up, change and attend that evening book signing event you read about this morning in the newspaper. You'll probably see the same old tired faces there, including your own, but may enjoy the time and meet some new people. Remember, if anyone asks you what you do, you're In Motion. After they give you that quizzical squint they'll probably have the good manners to leave it alone. If not, repeat I'm In Motion. Then add, I spend the day on the internet as an online form field writer. No lies please.

As the evening dwindles early, head on home, make some spaghetti, have some wine, turn on the boob tube and check your email. Or, why bother and go to sleep wondering what the next day will bring. As if you don't know.

In Motion.

Ideal Country House

Where I want to live

What I do...

Having sifted though jobs over the years, this is what I now do.

Unexpected

My daughter returned my e-mail this morning more swiftly than ever before. I was both taken aback and joyful at the same time as I don't hear from her too often. She mentioned she was as busy as ever but took the time out to let me know. Crumbs are better than nothing.
Sometimes it takes an unexpected event that pushes you off kilter to get you back on track.
Last week I was way off - a least a mile - wondering how I got myself into this unlikely predicament. I accepted a position for which I was not qualified and located in a bustling city a few thousand miles away. What was I thinking? Desperation I suppose. I regretfully declined but have been mulling over my decision's ramifications ever since including several sleepless nights.
The country is where I'd like make call my next zip code, not the concrete jungle. Sometimes a good slap in the face is what we need to wake up to what we really need rather than think we desire. I feel a bit sad to have realized this so late in the game. My goodness.

I have a secret place near a local airport that is quiet, calming and aplomb with beautiful vistas. I sometimes sit there, watching the small planes land and take off. It's beautiful. I like to use this metaphor for my new life of landing and taking off when it's the right time. But that is question.

Bye