clare
Wednesday, July 23, 2003
 
"yesterday it was my birthday
i hung one more year on the line
i should be depressed
my life's a mess
but i'm havin' a good time."
--paul simon

well, not quite. i'm functioning, in a kind of morose sit-on-your-butt-and-wait-for-the-phone-to-ring sort of way. speaking of which, i'm waiting for the phone to ring, possibly about a job. o glorious regular employment! the extravagance of benefits! the cushy comfort of a paycheck plunking down into your account and the vision of some measurable, consistant span of time until the next check arrives! o!

"i was twenty-one years when i wrote this song
i'm twenty-two now but i won't be for long
time hurries on
and the leaves that are green turn to brown."
--simon & garfunkel

the only significant thing of which i'm aware that occurs when one slam-bangs into the 23-year mark is that one (in particular, me) ages out of Outright. in the eyes of this organization, i crossed the border from "youth/participant" to "adult" and all of the responsibilities and--

hey! ho! there was the job call i was waiting for. no dice. it was sweet of them to call, though. oh well.

back to the job hunt, then. right-o.

hm.

hm.


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Monday, July 14, 2003
 
it's been a while since i've had the energy to stretch my fingers and do a little writing, aside from the ranting, raving, panicky e-mails i've been sending ann these days. heh. come to think of it, i'm feeling a bit like her depiction of icarus. that is, my move to this unfriendly place was feeling like a flight into the sun, and i'm stuck in that moment when the wax of my wings are starting to melt. i'd better land someplace else before it gets any worse.

maybe this is obvious, and i guess i should have known that this place would be so unbelievably lonely. there's the lack-of-melanie, of course, but there's the lack of human contact, as well. i remain unemployed, the job-app ticker now clocking in at 59, three full months later, and i'm finding myself almost literally drowning in day after day of waiting, waiting, for phone calls, for interviews, in my exec-u-drag, in my jeans, to fried to dedicate my mind to any sort of useful or thoughtful work, and too lazy to get myself into any kind of regular sleep schedule.

me and every other demoralized, exhausted unemployed person in this place. and there are so many.

maybe i'll drag my books and my boxes back up to maine. ahhh, maine. the maine around which i can get my head. the maine where obnoxious tourists from where i'm living now crowd the beaches and the little coastal galleries like, for three months out of the year, they own the place. the maine where i can actually afford the rent. and, most importantly, the maine where melanie's at. maybe i'll just admit defeat; i'll just slip back into that comfy life--one that wasn't without its limitations, especially professionally, but one in which i could at least survive.

has this move been a failure? naw, it's a learning experience, and all of that happy horseshit. albeit an *expensive* learning experience. who wants the big city life when your soul is being flattened by the lack of communication, of community? "i just want to be back where things make sense"--brooks, The Shawshank Redemption.

that's not to say that community can't be found here. and maybe i'm lazy, to be wanting to ease back into my comfort zone like this. but fuck that. what kind of a difference can i make in the world if i'm so unhappy being in it? i need some kind of joy in my own life in order to be giving some back, and, folks, medford ain't doing it for me.

i guess i'll mull it over a wee bit more and come to some kind of a decision by the end of next week.

mull...
...mull...
.....mull.....

p.s. ann's doing the 2003 Blogathon for RAINN! see this part of her website for more information. hey, maybe i can do it for Outright... if i can find me a stable internet connection...
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