I need a girlfriend!

No, I haven't gone lesbian on you....

All my really good girlfriends are scattered across the Western Hemisphere:

Angela is in Los Angeles
Charlotte is in San Diego
Ann is in New York
Cindy is in Atlanta
April is in London

These are the women I really connect with, the ones I really have a good time with, the ones I can talk about anything with. Sure, I have a few close female friends here, but no one I really connect with that closely.

Is that just due to the circumstances of my life? I work in a small shop, so there aren't scads of people to sort through to find good friends. And my industry (cabinetmaking) is pretty damn male-oriented, so the chances of even finding a female to test out are pretty slim. Plus I'm pretty lame when it comes to having a social life. I'm a bit of a hermit, I need someone else to drag me out of the house from time to time. Luis does that pretty well, but he's a boy, and that's just different.

Or is it a matter of my age? I've just turned 40, although I don't feel like it, nor do I act like it. Portland is a pretty young town though. Most women my age are having babies, it seems. And the women who like to go out to bars, or to see bands, or whatever, are usually doing that more often than I'm able to (the thought of going to work hung over or tired and having to work with power tools kinda scares me!). Or they are just younger than me and, dang it!, I'm starting to feel that generation gap!

I'm starting to wonder if Portland is too hippie for me too. I mean, it's nice to have a supportive, progressive, forward-thinking community, but I miss the harshness of a bigger town. I miss the variety of a bigger town. Here we have a ton of variations on the hippie, the hipster, the socially concerned. To be a "rebel" in this town is difficult, because no matter what you do, you are supported! Wanna be a punk? Ok. Wanna be homeless? Well, we don't want that for you, but we will work hard to make sure you get whatever you need in order to remain homeless. Wanna be an MBA-holding, suit-wearing business person? Ok, but really there is no need for the suit. Wanna be a soccer mom? Sure, we'll even sell you a hybrid mini-van so you can be an eco-soccer mom!

All I want is a group of friends who will come over on a Sunday and sit in the back yard with me and talk trash about our lives. Anyone interested?

My 80's Weekend

So not only am I bathing in R.E.M. today, I went to see Crowded House last night with mi amiga Vanessa. They apparently have a new album out, but I am woefully unacquainted with those songs. Unfortunately, they seemed to be playing a lot of them. Fortunately, Mr. Finn has held up quite well and both Vanessa and I were drooling over his Aussie voice and well maintained body.

They scattered a handful of older songs in the main part of their set, and then tossed a hunk of them in for their two encores. I was quite happy. They closed with Better Be Home Soon, and the audience sat rapt and silent, singing along quietly. It was fabulous!

R.E.M.

Is there any more perfect album than Murmur or Eponymous or Fables of the Revolution? Not today.

Those songs take me to a very happy place. Radio Free Europe makes me dance around the room like a teenager. (Don't go Back to) Rockville makes me swoon. So. Central Rain, Seven Chinese Brothers, Talk About the Passion, Life and How to Live It......

Sooooooooo happy!

More art

One thing that is missing in my life these days is art. Even though Portland is pretty cultured, I don't get out to see art, and art certainly isn't coming to me. I get to work by 7am, leave there at 3.30pm, go home and watch stupid afternoon tv for two hours (my current idea of "relaxing after work"), then go to the gym for two more hours. Home again for dinner, then crashing into bed for a night of sleep.

Art? No time for it.

In fact, I feel like I don't have time for anything these days. Art, relaxation, writing, people watching, whatever. My weekdays are booked up. No wonder I just want to stay inside and stare at the walls on the weekends! That is exactly what I did yesterday - I didn't even leave the house!

Today at least I am three blocks away from the house. That is progress, right? 8^)

There is an art event going on this weekend called Art in the Pearl. I bought a piece of art from there a few years ago. Maybe I will hike over that way and see what is going on. It's close to Powell's, so I could always skip out on the art and move on to books if the art was boring....

So many thoughts...

I've been wanting to write to my blog lately. However, I have a shitty Internet connection at home, so even checking email there is painful.

Today, I decided to wander down the street to get online. For that, and for food. Luis went to Sacramento this weekend to visit a friend. I was invited, but didn't relish 18 hours of driving to a town I think of as a pit, just to see a friend of Luis'. Don't get me wrong, the friend is a good guy - I know his family down in Mexico - but he is Luis' friend, not mine. Plus, I'm going to see Crowded House tonight - oh so 80's!

So I am solo here in Portland for the long weekend. It's mostly ok, although I'm tending to freak out a bit not having Luis around. Even though I think we need time apart, I get knocked off center when he leaves. I'm sure it has to do with my childhood and not having my dad around, but who really knows?

I also just downloaded a bunch of photos from Mexico. I had taken a bunch of "old style" photos using actual film when my digital camera broke. When I got back to the States I had them developed and uploaded in digital format so I could then download them to my computer. It probably would have been worthwhile to just have had them put the photos on a disc, but I was pretty dang broke when I first got back.

The photos made me think about Mexico, and the Mexicans I met. I'm starting to look at that year in Mexico in a different light. When I was there I was so out of whack that it was hard to see things any other way than what I was feeling at the moment. Now I can see that I went down there with a particular idea of what I was doing there and the reality didn't match up. Instead of rolling with that, I tried to force it to be what I wanted. I didn't open up my brain to a more objective viewpoint. Not that I blame myself for that. I don't think there was a way I could have done that. But being away from it now makes me see things differently.

Luis and I talk about going back to live there. It's mostly what he wants to do. I still have things that I want to do here in the States, so another move south is not in my close future. I would be interested in going back again, but not to live in Tuxpan. And he agrees. He is also realizing that he went down there with some unrealistic ideas of what he was going to achieve. If we move down there again it will be to Colima, which is about 45 minutes away from Tuxpan. Close enough to visit the family, but in a city that has more to it than drinking and poverty.

Plus it seems like every time I go to the gym I end up thinking about Mexico. I'm not sure why, except that maybe that is my only time to myself, when I don't have to think about anything else, and my mind just goes there because it needs quiet time to contemplate all that happened there.

Regardless, I think I'm slowly working through a lot of shit in my head.

Yeah, I'm still here...

It's been a while since I last posted. My apologies. Luis came home and now I have less free time. Lame excuse, but there it is.

I woke up in the middle of the night last night with a headache. I got up, swigged down a BC Powder (the best thing ever to happen to headaches) and went to sleep on the couch. Our mattress sucks, and Luis snores like a freight train, so I figured the relative privacy of a futon mattress might help scare off the pain in my head.

Two more BC Powders later and my head feels like it's stuffed with a wet rag. But it's not thumping in pain, so I consider that an improvement.

Today we are going to the house of one of my fellow Dragon Boat team members to look at his kitchen. He wants some drywall work done and when he met Luis at the races, they talked about Luis doing the work. So we'll go see what is what out in Tigard.

This evening we might head out to Banks, Oregon to see one of my co-worker's race his tiny car. He is obsessed with it, he talks about it all during the work week. But he is a funny guy, and if he had a good tan and a Mexican accent, he would essentially be Luis. So I figure they will hit it off well, and I might make a few new friends as well.

That's it for now.....

1 hour, 57 minutes

Luis arrives in two hours. I'm sitting at home, willing the clock to move faster so I can go to the airport. Then we're going to my pre-race Dragon Boat party. And tomorrow we have two races - one at 11.40, the other at 4.15pm. I'm pumped, pumped, pumped.

Now if only it was 7pm.....

FINALLY!!!!!!!!

I talked with Luis this morning. He is finally coming back to Portland. Says he is done with living in Mexico for now. So we booked him a flight on June 8th - the day before my Dragon Boat races! Yay!

Busta Rhymes, Cher and Me

May 20th. My birthday. And Cher's, Busta Rhymes, Jimmy Stewart, Joe Cocker and Suzie, my best friend in Portland. I'm in good company.

Happy Birthday to us.

San Diego

I've been here in San Diego for 5 days now. I can see some of the appeal - warm, sunny weather, the beach..... yeah, that's it. But I don't think I'd want to live here. Charlotte and I went to the grocery store last night. She had to run back to grab something she had forgotten. I was left alone with the cashier.

"Are you from the Northern?" she asked me.

A bit confused, I responded, "no, I'm from Portland, Oregon."

"Oh, I knew you were from somewhere north. It's that whole relaxed vibe you have."

"Ok." But I thought that was odd. Here I am in Southern California, the Mecca of laid-back-ness, to where all surfers and wanna-be surfers flock, where it is assumed that your life is soooo relaxed and worry free. Here I am, coming down from Portland, Oregon where it's overcast for 6 months of the year, where SAD (seasonal affective disorder) bitch slaps most inhabitants, and I'm being called laid back? Wow.

But it seems to be real. Charlotte talks about the fast-paced life here. Everyone is in a rush to go somewhere, be someone, do something. Nothing is relaxed here. It's very, very expensive here. In order to make a living you have to work hard, have roommates, live as inexpensively as possible. At a coffee house I am ignored as I stand at the counter. It seemed like actually making contact with me was awkward. (Whereas in Portland everyone talks to you.)

So maybe Southern Cali isn't the mecca it's reputation leads us all to believe.

When it rains...

Of all the companies I had applied with, the only one that I hadn't received some sort of reply from was The Joinery. They have a reputation for making really nice furniture, and for being a place where woodworkers want to work, so I was definately interested in talking to them. I had sent them a resume way back in March. But no reply, no "thanks but we're not currently hiring" email even.

I had applied with them when I first moved here back in 2002. They ended up calling me to interview after I had been working for a company for about two months. I was so excited. I didn't like the job I had (low pay, crazy owner, jerk of a manager), and I was seriously excited about the Joinery reputation. Would they really hire me?

I went in for an interview after a full day of work at my crappy job. I changed clothes in the bathroom of a coffeehouse. I was pumped. I went in, met the owners and started the interview. At some point in the middle of the chat, I realized my posture was horrible. I was slouching and my legs were splayed out like I was a trucker drinking a beer at a local watering hole. Now, I know this is a physical, blue-collar type job, but I realized I should at least be attempting to make a better impression. I straightened up, crossed my legs and continued to answer the questions they threw at me. Poorly. I remember saying exactly the wrong thing to one question. At that point I knew they wouldn't call me back, and they didn't.

Flash forward to this week. I've just accepted a job with Mike, my old boss. It's all good. That same afternoon I get a call from the Joinery. They are interested in interviewing me.

Talk about bad timing.....

What do I do? I'm really no good at lying. I wouldn't feel comfortable only saying that I have a job offer on the table (conveniently neglecting to say I've already accepted the offer), but I would also like to get my face out in front of them again, if only to correct the mistakes I made so many years ago. I called them back, ready to tell them "thanks but no thanks", but the guy I talked to still seemed interested in talking to me anyway. Hmmm. Ok, I told you I already have a job, you've told me you couldn't meet the pay rate (at least not right away), but you still wouldn't mind me coming in to talk? Great! Eleven-thirty tomorrow morning would be fine!

The interview went well enough. I was oddly nervous. In other interviews I've had recently I was never nervous. Was it the memory of my previous interview with them, or did I actually want to get a job with them?

I mentioned to Gary that I had interviewed with them years ago and that it had been a bad interview. He remembered me, but didn't remember the interview. So I didn't go into details. We talked about this and that, the whole process being a bit odd since we both knew that I was already employed. But he said enough and I thought about things enough to seriously consider whether I should reconsider working for Mike.

I went for a long walk by myself afterwards to think about it all. Basically I would be giving up a good job that pays more than the industry standard for the option to interview at the Joinery. Although I would like to learn more about furniture making, and think the Joinery is a great place to do so, I'm going to turn them down. They don't have a job offer, and even if they did the wage would be 3 or 4 dollars less.

I'll keep them on my list of places to contact when I'm ready to move on again. But it was nice being wanted by them.

Employed Again!

My old boss finally offered me a job. And a good deal on it too. He is bringing me in at the same pay rate he was paying me two years ago, and I think my insurance will start up faster than it would have if I were a new employee. The only catch is that the job doesn't start for another week.

Fine by me.

I have a freebie ticket on Southwest airlines, so I'm going to head south to San Diego and Los Angeles to see friends this week. Funny how I've been traveling so much while I'm unemployed. No better time to do it though.

Monday, April 30th. That's my first day back. In the meantime, I'm outta here!

Sueños

I'm dreaming again. For a long time I wasn't having dreams at night. Most of my nights in Mexico were dreamless. Every once in a while I'd have a dream, but it was usually lightweight, nothing of substance.

For the past three nights I've had dreams. Some of them are easily relatable to my daily, waking life. Dreams about Luis, dreams about jobs. But some aren't so easily deciphered.

But I feel better having dreams. Somehow I think they clear out my mind of stray thoughts that would otherwise just rattle around and distract me.

kitty kitty

I just let a black cat cross my path. Have I just doomed myself to some bad luck?

I was walking to my local coffee house and a small black cat was trying to cross over Belmont Street, a somewhat busy main street. As it ran across the lanes of traffic and towards me, I thought that I should help the cat somehow. I'd hate to make it stop in it's tracks and thus get run over by a careless driver. So I stopped in my tracks to let it have the right of way and a safe passage to the other side of the street.

I think the good karma of helping another sentient being offsets any bad black cat mojo. At least that's what I'm telling myself until I find out otherwise.

Watch your breath

Last week I went to a meditation center close by my house. They have an open meditation session every Tuesday evening. I hadn't meditated for a long time - I think the last time was when I was studying Tai Chi in Atlanta - but I felt the need to just let my mind loose for a while. There was a member there who gave an introduction to the five newbies who showed up that night. He was very nice and calm. I ended up talking to him after meditation and got a good feeling off him. During this week I couldn't help but get the feeling that he was thinking of me. Not in a romantic or sexual way, but in a supportive way. Like he was wondering to himself, "What happened to that girl who came in this week? I hope she is doing well." It was a good feeling, even if it was all made up in my own mind.

Frustrated

Being back has its good days and its bad days. Today is bad. Last Friday was bad. Of course, that was Friday the 13th, so maybe there were other forces going on.

Friday I was working on my two day try-out with MADE Designs. They are a few blocks away from my house, which is convenient. But they are a newer company (only 3 years old), so they don’t seem to know exactly how to interview, hire and have employees. The one guy they already had on staff told me that the two owners were pretty tight-lipped when it came to giving him direction for his job. Not out of meanness, but out of inexperience. Allowing employees to do things their own way isn’t always a bad thing, but I read it as being inexperienced with having to teach employees how you want them to work. I just don’t think they have ever had to think about keeping their vision alive and on track while bringing new people into their company.

They had given me an odd corner cabinet – nothing too crazy, but they use mitres on every joint, which isn’t standard in the industry. So I was battling that hurdle. And there were a few times I lost the battle. Since I had already worked on the one cabinet for a full day, by Friday afternoon I was getting frustrated at not being further along. So when something went wrong, I was frustrated and angry at myself.

Then I got a call from my old boss Mike. He said that he was leaving the hiring and firing of employees to his newly promoted shop manager, and that I should expect to get a call from Scott, the manager, to talk to me about coming in for an interview. I did get the call and set up a time on Tuesday morning to go meet Scott. But I was insulted that I was being asked to interview for a position that I had already held for two years and for which Mike had said that he would hire me back into.

I’m actually getting frustrated with Mike. We have been talking since I’ve been back about getting me back into his shop. Recently I had been leaving him alone as I didn’t want him to feel like I was pestering him. But he has been getting a lot of calls from the other people who I’ve been applying with. So there is a bit of pressure on him, I guess. On Thursday afternoon he called me up to ask about the most recent call he had received. He wanted to know how bad I wanted to work with the guy, what I knew about his shop already, and other stuff like that. It was odd. In this case I had found the company in the Yellow Pages, and sent my resume in to them blind. I knew very little about the company aside from what I had seen on their website. And Mike hadn’t asked me about other companies I had applied to even though he had been getting calls. So what was so new about this one? If he is feeling the pressure to hire me sooner than he would feel comfortable at the risk of losing me to a competitor, that’s his problem. In that case he needs to decide what is more important to him. Either hire me or let me loose. Don’t play games like this with me.

Very frustrating.

I’m also on hold with MADE as they had also tested someone else out last week. Now Bo and Tim are talking with each other and making their decision. Fair enough. But I have no idea where I stand with them. I realized on Sunday morning that I had seen the cabinet the other guy had been asked to make. I didn’t realize it while I was working there for the two days, but suddenly I remembered having to walk around it while I was there. And I realized I got the harder cabinet. His cabinet was your basic square cabinet. Essentially the only challenge he would have had (if he had the same level of experience I had) would be to deal with mitering the corners. My cabinet was L-shaped. I had to deal with more mitres and more issues than he would have. So does that play into my favor? Or did they set me up to fail? Yet another sign that they didn’t think out their trial period concept. If they were trying to judge two people, it would make more sense to have them both make the same cabinet, or make similar cabinets. Now they have to compare apples and oranges in order to make their decision. Again, not my problem, but frustrating nonetheless.

So Monday April 16th isn’t much better than Friday April 13th.

Hard to Leave, Harder to Stay

The week in Mexico went well. Not perfect, but ok. Luis and I got some alone time by going to a gorgeous beach for two days. (Btw, if I ever live in Mexico again, I will be taking friends to this beach, so remember that and call me up when I'm down there again.) The next day we went to a close-by water slide park/spa with Laura and family. The spa was pretty new and very well done. It's a natural hot spring and they had two steam rooms, two jacuzzis, a mud area where you can pack on the mineral-rich mud, a juice bar and massage rooms. Nice.

The next day I packed my stuff and left Mexico.

I was having such a good time. This is what I had wanted to do more of when I was living here. I had wanted to travel around, see the country, explore the region. Instead we spent what felt like way too much time in Tuxpan. So all of a sudden it felt a bit difficult to leave - if life could be like this here in Mexico, I would stay. But, following up that thought was a quick reality check. It wasn't like that. It would be more isolation, more depression, more frustration. Really, it's better to leave on a high note.

Headed Back

I was online last night looking for a cheap flight down to Mexico. I still have stuff down there that I need to get, and I want to go back to say thank you to everyone and "hasta luego" (see you later).

I found the cheapest flight was actually leaving Portland today. So I booked it, made sure Luis could pick me up in Guadalajara, asked my mom to help get me to the airport at 4.30am this morning, and gathered the small amount of stuff I'm bringing back with me. Quick and easy.

Back into the fray....

Bad day, bad interview

Yesterday was a bad day. I didn't leave the house until 3.45pm. I woke up with a bad attitude. Nothing was good, it seemed. Even talking to my best friend Wade didn't bring me out of my glum mood.

I got a call back from Neil Kelly Cabinetry. Nice woman on the phone, but I was above their salary level for a builder, and she didn't think they had any management positions open. She was bummed because she liked what she saw on paper and said she would have hired me if she had open positions. That was nice to hear, but it also reinforced my impression that they probably have management issues. Otherwise she wouldn't have been so over excited about me solely based on my resume.

Around 3pm I heard back from MADE Design asking me to come in for an interview. I was a little surprised to hear from them as I thought they would be looking for someone with more time in the industry. It seems that there is a belief that years of experience = quality employee, which I've found isn't always true. I had spoken with Ken at Rosemont Designs about this issue and he has come to the same realization. MADE had asked for 5-10 years experience, and I was on the lower end of that. Besides, their company was pretty young, so I figured they were still working under the time=quality mindset. So when they called back, I wasn't sure what to expect. But I prepped myself in the hour before the interview by asking myself questions that I thought might come up.

Everything about the interview supported my eventual belief that they didn't have much experience in interviewing potential employees. On the phone, the owner only asked me if I would come in for an interview. No preliminary questions to weed out people who would obviously not work out. When I arrived at the shop, by the time I had introduced myself and shook hands with the two owners, I knew they weren't interested.

I've been in that position before. I had to interview lots of people when I worked at my first cabinetry job. I would make a pretty quick decision sometimes about interviewees and sometimes had to go through the motions of interviewing them just to be polite.

But I never made that decision before they even spoke.

So to have that feeling so damn quickly was really odd. I tried to inject questions and personality into the interview to show these two guys that maybe they should dig a little deeper. But it didn't work. At the end of the 20 minute interview (which would have been much shorter if I hadn't tried so hard), I got the "Well, we're going to be talking to other people this week. We'll get back to you" statement. Yeah, ok, I'll be waiting with bated breath.

Don't get me wrong, this might not have been the right job for me. I might not have been a good match for them. And I'm ok with that. But to get this attitude from the second I walked in was really disturbing. I really felt like turning right back around as soon as I got there.

Eventually I realized that this wasn't a reflection on me. Even if they thought I might not be a good candidate (based on whatever it was they heard over the phone or saw in the 2 seconds after I walked into their shop), a good interviewer would have handled it differently. First, when you call a candidate, ask questions. What real-life experience do they have? Sure, you have some details on their resume, but let them fill in the gaps. If you know the places that person has worked before, ask about those places. For instance, they knew a little bit about Mike's shop, so pressing me for details about that job would have been perfect. Then, once you have decided to bring a candidate in for a personal interview, get even more details about them as an employee. What do they like to do in the shop, what do they dislike? How do they handle certain situations? What are their strong points, what are their weak points? Do they see themselves staying in this industry for a long time? If so, where do they want to go, what skills do they want to learn? And so on.

I got none of those questions. In fact, I think the only question they asked was a general, "so, tell us about you" question. I think they made their decision about me between the phone call and the interview, so no matter what I had done at their shop I wasn't going to be given a fair shot. Over the phone they had asked if I could bring a portfolio of my previous work in. I said that I had just moved back to Portland and lots of things were in storage, but I could probably scare up a few photos. And that is what I did - I searched boxes of photos to see what I thought might be helpful. The reality is that I don't have a lot of photos because most of my work has been done for other companies and I don't think of it as "my" work. Yeah, I work on the pieces, but I am representing the company I work for. Maybe that isn't right. Maybe I should be taking photos. But I've also never been asked for photos from anyone I've ever applied with.

However, all of that was moot because they didn't even ask to see my photos.

So maybe they decided at that point that since I didn't have a portfolio I wasn't a quality candidate. Fair enough. But I had even given them an out with that. I said I didn't have much to show, and wasn't sure if that was a requirement of the interview.....? Giving them plenty of lead to say, "Yes, actually it is. Thanks and good luck in your job search". But they said no, it wasn't a requirement.

But the chilly reception I got when I walked in leads me to believe that maybe they do want someone with a portfolio, or more experience, or more testosterone, or....... Regardless I think they need more experience in interviewing.

So, two more companies down.

The Waiting Game

I turned down that job offer today.

It was a pretty good offer on the surface. The company was small (about 5 or 6 employees), built quality cabinetry and some furniture, the owner liked me and thought I would fit in with the company, and the hourly salary was within my range. But they didn't have health insurance, which, if I bought it on my own, would essentially bring my hourly wage down $3 or $4 per hour.

Plus I had talked to my previous boss, Mike. I really would prefer to work for him. His shop is a mere mile from my house - I can walk or ride my bike to work. I know how his shop runs. I know how he thinks. He and I have a great rapport. He fired his shop manager, my former supervisor - which was well over due, but better late than never, right? Last week he told me that he doesn't have enough work to hire me right now.

Yesterday after I got the job offer, Mike and I went to the bar next to his shop and talked for 3 hours. I told him I had an offer on the table, but would prefer to work for him. Was there anyway he could bring me on? He said he had been thinking about that for the last week and a half. We bantered about a few thoughts, but ultimately came away without a solid job offer for me. But there are lots of possibilities there.

So I called the other guy back today and let him down gently. I was plesantly surprised when he said that he would still be interested in talking to me if changed my mind. I must be some hot property! So now I have two possibilities, but nothing solid. Better than no offers, I guess.

Man I ROCK!!!!!!!

So I set to the job of finding a job this week. I sent resumes to Arciform, The Joinery, MADE Design, and Rosemont Design, plus a few other online posts which ended up to be recruiters.

Today, the same day I applied, I got a call back from Rosemont Designs. I had less experience than would usually interest them, but they were interested anyway. Could I come in for an interview? Sure, 4pm today would work well for me.

I wasn't at all nervous. I was helping my friend Walter with an errand and he asked me why not. "I don't know if I'm interested in them, so it doesn't really matter if they like me or not. Besides, I know that I'm good at this, I know I can do what they need. If they don't want to offer me a job, I won't care."

So at 4pm I walked into the shop and asked for Ken, the owner. We went to his office and started to talk. "You saw our work on our website, so how do you see yourself fitting in here in our shop?" was his first question. I stumbled. How could I answer that when I really didn't know what his shop was like? So I asked him to clarify, realizing this isn't the best way to respond to the first question in an interview. But we quickly got into industry-type talk. He asked questions which I realized were to test my actual knowledge versus my ability to toss out the proper terminology. He talked a lot. I kept my mouth shut as much as I could. I had learned that sometimes it is better to let the other person talk.

By the time he gave me a tour of the shop, I knew I had a good chance at a job there. And I was right.

He didn't offer me a position outright, but said he was interested and wanted to call my references. Said he would call me again tomorrow.

One interview = one job offer.

Damn! I'm good!

Trading Spaces

When I rented out my house, I ended up leaving a few things behind. My futon couch, a small side table used in the bathroom, curtains and curtain rods, a vacuum, plus tons of household-oriented bits and pieces intended for occasional maintenance .

Now that I'm back in my house I'm finding some things missing. Some white cotton curtains I thought I had left on some of the windows are gone. Or maybe I gave them away to Goodwill. A 6' ladder which got me on the roof to sweep off the accumulation of leaves and other tree bits. Those are the big things. But in their place I have found a few items. A nice area rug, just the right color and size to use in front of the kitchen sink. A Bissel Spotlifter unit (without it's power cord), a kitchen mop, one of those Swiffer (Swifter?) floor cleaner thingys, two unopened bags of pillow stuffing.

I guess it all evens out. Except for the ladder.....

It happens....

I went to talk to my storage people today. I realized that if the things had been stolen, there was no way I was ever going to get them back, so really I was just looking for a little sympathy. Maybe they would have security cameras and I could look at tapes to see whether or not someone had stolen something from me. Who knows?

When I got to the storage place the trendy boy was there. I didn't like him. At this particular storage place they usually hired people who were a bit low on the employment ladder. Not the types you would find in an office or a cafe or a trendy bar. So trendy boy really stuck out. And he had a bit of an attitude. Because I had told them I was moving out, my account had been flagged. I had paid up through the 19th of this month, but for some reason two different times when I had gone to the locker my security code didn't work. The first time this happened, I went to the office to find out what was going on. Trendy boy was there. He looked my account up and sighed one of those oh-so-exasperated sighs. "See," he said to his co-worker, "this is why we need to make sure those forms get filled out!" Another sigh and then he told me the account was cleared and I could get to my locker.

Now, maybe proper paperwork hadn't been done on my account, but what a passive-aggressive way for him to act around me, the customer, when this came to light. I didn't need to know that someone else in his company hadn't followed proceedure. I couldn't care less. I just wanted to get into my locker. But he had to make it obvious to me and everyone else around that his day was being put out of joint because someone else hadn't done their job. Poor guy. I feel so sorry for him, having to correct someone else's mistake.... NOT!!!! Pull your head out of your ass, I wanted to say, it's just a simple mistake.

Needless to say when I saw him behind the counter today I wasn't thrilled. Some other guy walked up to me and asked if he could help me. "I need to close out my locker and I wanted to let you know that I had something stolen from my truck when I was moving this past weekend."

"Yeah, that happens," he replied.

Sympathy was not forthcoming. But I also thought his response showed a great lack of customer service. Really, he should have said something like, "I'm terribly sorry that happened to you here at my place of business. We do our best to minimize thievery, but sometimes it happens and we have no control over it." Instead he followed up his first comment with, "I can't do anything to help you there."

I realized he probably thought I was looking for them to replace my lost items. "I know you aren't responsible, I just wanted you to know it had happened."

"Yeah, well, we can't do anything about it."

At which point I decided he was an idiot and had never had the concept of customer service explained to him. I asked, rather testily, for the moving out paperwork, signed it and left.

Now, the fact that I found the "lost" items later that day stashed away in my laundry room is of no consequence. He still should've treated me better.

Missing Things

The week before I moved things out of storage and into my house, I went to my storage locker and grabbed whatever I could that could fit into my car, trying to minimize the pain of moving day. I looked through the plastic bins I had all my belongings in to see what I had left behind. One day I came across the antenna for my tv. I had forgotten about it completely. It was small, but I didn’t need it at home right away so I left it there.

On Saturday, after I had all my things in the house, I started unpacking and looking for certain things. One thing was that tv antenna. I was tired and I just wanted a mindless evening. Funny thing was that I couldn’t find it. Maybe it’s packed away somewhere else, I thought. Or maybe someone stole it!

But how would they have done that? The bins were in my locker all week, and that was locked up. Then it must have been on the day we moved. But we never really left the bins anywhere anyone would be able to get to them. Of course, we left the truck unlocked while we went back to the locker for more stuff, but the office was right there – wouldn’t they have seen someone opening the truck and taking something out? Could it have been one of the employees?

Ok, I’m probably just tired after a hard day of moving. I’m being paranoid. The antenna is probably in some other bin.

But after a few days of going through my belongings, I still hadn’t found the antenna. And I thought I had bought one of those fancy plastic bag storage things. Where was that?

Tonight I set up my bedframe. And I was missing pieces. As I thought about where they might be, I realized that I thought I had seen those pieces in storage too.

So maybe I wasn’t being paranoid. Maybe someone had stolen a bin of my things. But how odd would that be? How random. If the antenna was on top, I could understand someone picking that out and taking it, but what else could I have put in a bin that would be worth something?

Tomorrow I’ll go back to the storage company and ask them if they have surveillance videos of that area.

Only the women are bad....

We are so judgmental. I’m watching a program called “The Outsiders”. They are profiling a woman who is in the porn industry. They previewed her segment by saying that she used to be a “Sunday school teacher” and she was “college educated”. Then they asked how a woman like her could become a “cigarette smoking porn star”. There was an obvious, and not so subtle, message there. What is good and what is bad. Sunday school teacher = good. Porn star = bad. College educated = good. Smoker = bad. How much more judgmental can we be? I mean, porn is hugely popular – someone has to do that work. It’s not just created out of thin air. So why are the women who perform in porn the only ones who are criticized? What about the men who work in porn? What about the men (and women) who pay for porn? Where are the programs profiling men who purchase hundreds of porn movies a year? Where are the judgmental tv shows about them?

Maybe we just freak out when we realize that these women who perform in porn are actual humans, and not just some personality-less plastic dolls we project our desires onto. Then we think about being in their position and our Puritan heritage comes out, and we label them as “bad”.

Ramblings

This country is crazy for pills. We also seem to have a lot of outbreaks of diseases. Think there’s a connection?
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American TV is just as bad, if not worse, than Mexican TV. In fact, there are a lot of copycat programs on right now. I don’t know if they started in Mexico or the States. Either way, they suck.
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I saw a commercial this morning that showed people in situations where they had to make a choice between two activities – do you do one thing or the other. The commercial was for a bank’s financial services, basically saying that if you make the right decisions, you’ll be ok. Which is all good and fine. But what seemed particularly American to me was one shot which showed a guy looking out at his back yard, trying to choose between raking the few leaves that littered his lawn and relaxing in his hammock. The implication was that the “right” thing to do was to rake the yard, to do the work. In Mexico the clear choice would be to relax in the hammock. Not out of laziness, but out of a feeling that you need to enjoy life while you can. And at this point, I agree.

Going Up

I’ve been eating like a bird these days. A big, carnivorous, hungry, indiscriminate bird. Because of course, birds eat their own body weight in food on a daily basis. I had started to gain weight right before I left Tuxpan, but this was pretty normal down there – my weight would fluxuate within a few pounds on a regular basis. When I got up here I was so excited to eat food I hadn’t had in 14 months – Violet’s breakfast, thai food, Peet’s coffee with real half & half, cheap frozen pizzas, etc. So now I have a layer of fat on me that hadn’t been there two months ago. Bummer.

Also, whatever I’m eating doesn’t always agree with my system. Lately I’ve been going to bed feeling over-full and uncomfortably bloated. As if whatever I’ve eaten has turned into a stone in my stomach. I wake up and feel the same. Maybe the food here has more preservatives and that is affecting my stomach. Maybe I’ve been eating heavier food. Or maybe my body is adjusting to the food here. Regardless, I need to start eating better.

First the house, then a job.... Almost

I went to visit my old boss Mike today. He was surprised to see me because he didn’t know I was back in town. But I had stopped in to visit in the past, so he wasn’t completely surprised.

We chatted for a while and he told me he had done some “housecleaning” last week. Turns out one employee had blown up at another employee and threatened bodily harm. He was fired. Then the good news – my old manager had been fired too. Mike said that on the same day he fired the other employee he decided to fire John too. Said he realized he had just had it, he couldn’t deal with John anymore. It was about time too. John had always been a problem, but Mike didn’t have it in his nature to fire him sooner. So now Mike is down two employees. And I’m looking for a job.

You do the math.

It was lunch time at the shop and his remaining four workers came out of the shop to get their food. I knew two of them and chatted a bit with them. Mike then introduced me to one employee I didn't know. “Hi, I’m Laura, I used to work here.” “Nice to meet you. Are you going to work here again?” he asked. “I don’t know. Mike and I hadn’t gotten to that point in our conversation yet.”

Which was really a nice segue way. We talked a little bit, but I didn’t want to pressure Mike, so I said “well, think about it and call me if you’re interested.” He replied, “I don’t need to think about it, I’d love to have you back at the shop. But I don’t have enough work right now.”

I was very complimented. No need to convince him to re-hire me. I had a job if I wanted it, I only had to wait. And even though he couldn’t hire me right away, I figure that even if I have to take a crappy job, I can always drop it when a position comes available with him. So it was a good day.

Comfortably Numb

One thing that is odd about staying here is the mixed feelings I have. The other day I was sitting in my back yard and it almost felt like my time in Mexico was just a dream. The yard looked the same, as if I had never left. And as I bring some of my things back into the house I have the same sensation. Here I am, back in my old life, which doesn't feel old, it feels as if I'm merely rearranging my house. Mexico? Did I really go there or was that a dream?

And I'm not sure I want that. I want to feel different, I want to feel like I had an Experience. A life-changing experience. But it's really easy to forget about my life in Mexico. It's really easy to feel a big void when I think about my daily life down there. Which is so odd because when I was there every day was wracked with emotions. Sometimes good, sometimes bad, sometimes horribly painful. So to feel numb to it, to feel as if it didn't happen, is very, very odd.

Reclaiming the House

So I decided. I'm staying here in Portland.

I called my potential renters to give them the bad news. Then I went to my storage locker and packed as much as I could into my little car, and took it back to the house. I asked a friend if he could help me move the rest of my things into the house this Saturday. The only thing left was to talk to Luis.

When I talked to him, and he was sad but supportive. We talked a bit about what he needed to do down there (close up the shop, sell the tools if he could, sell one of the motorcycles, etc). We talked about me flying down there to gather some things up and say a proper goodbye to the family. He said he was going to call his old boss in Sacramento to see what the work situation looked like. And he told me that he wanted to stay down there until his brother Jorge moved down in May.

I thought this might be a goal of his. His brother Jorge is more like a father to him than a brother. And Jorge has been saying he wants to move back to Mexico for a while now. Luis feels like, and has always felt this way, he should help Jorge out as much as possible. So at the worst Luis could be back up here by June.

Now I need to get back on the ball and get myself re-established here. Call the utilities and get them back in my name, start looking for a job, get my brain wrapped around the idea of staying here.

It does occur to me...

...that I might not know if I've made the right decision until long after I've made that decision.

How to Have it All

I was talking with my friend Suzie last night. I told her I had been at the house yesterday and was feeling like maybe I should stay in Portland. I told her that if I had my druthers I would keep the house, but take the time to go see friends and go back to Tuxpan for a week to say a proper good-bye to everyone and gather up some of my belongings.

"So why not do that?" she asked.

So why not?

Still on the Fence

I think I need to get honest about this "stay or go" decision.

The reality is that I am more comfortable here than I am in Tuxpan. I have friends here. A lot of my friends these days are married, and some of them have kids. But they are still available for me and I can still talk to them. In English. I have a house here - which I haven't rented out yet - plus a bunch of shit in storage. So within a week or so I could be moved back in and in my own space again.

But it sort of tears me up. I feel like I was in the middle of starting a life down there and now I'm running away from it. But the reality there is that the life which I was starting wasn't making me happy. I think if I went down there in another year or so I might have a healthier attitude and might be able to stay down there longer.

I"ve been waiting for some sort of sign to tell me what I should do. Should I stay or should I go? Why isn't the universe telling me in some not-so-subtle way which choice is the better one? My sister told me that sometimes the sign we are looking for isn't a lightning bolt, but more just small, subtle signs which we can easily overlook or discount.

So I think about the conversations I've had with friends, and what they've said. I walk around my house, empty now, and think of how it would feel with all my stuff back in it. I went to my storage locker and realized just how normal, how calm, how inconspicuous I felt.

And that is a huge thing. I feel like I can walk around the neighborhood without sticking out or being stared at. I don't feel as if I don't fit in here. I'm just another white girl walking around.

So maybe I should stay.

Life Goes On

So I've been having a difficult time with this decision of whether I should stay here in Portland or if I should go back to Mexico. I've been sitting on the fence over which option to choose.

But every once in a while I'll be reminded that life will go on no matter which option I choose. That lightens the stress of trying to decide.

Coka Lite

Diet Coke tastes different here than in Mexico. Down there it's more fizzy, as are all softdrinks. But it also has a different taste. I actually like Mexican Diet Coke.

I just need to frikkin eat!!!

I left my mom's place today with a mission to find a good brekky restaurant. I've been a bit of a hermit lately, so I figured this would motivate me to get out of the house.

I jumped on public transportation and headed to a small diner I had been to before in the Pearl District. It was kinda late for brekky, but their web site said they were open until 3pm, so I figured I was well within Brekky Range. Alas no. During the week they serve eggs and their kin only until 11am. Waaaah!!! So I left and started walking back south towards downtown. I figured I would come across another option sooner or later.

Well, PF Chang's came up and I decided chinese food was as good as an omelet at this point. I went in and ordered some food to go. They said it would take 15 minutes, so I said I would be back for the food.

I left and aimed for Powell's, which was a risk as I'm not sure I can do only 15 minutes at Powell's. At the corner there were four folks from Mercy Corps. I figured I had nothing to lose - I don't live here anymore so I have a ready "out" if they want signatures or something. So I stopped and talked to one guy.

It started out ok. He asked what I knew about Mercy Corps then filled me in on what they do. And they do some good things. They work to establish local resources in the areas where they go. Need a doctor in Uganda? They don't ship one in from Europe or the US, they get the resources to have a local (or regional) doctor set up to work where it is needed. Nice. And, he said, he wasn't out on a street corner in the rain to ask people for money today. Rather he was asking for people to offer resources.

Resources. That usually means money. So I told him my deal - I'm living in Mexico, I'm trying to make a living on what I earn there, I'm here just to rent out my house, money isn't an option as a resource from me. That usually shuts them up. They might ask what I'm doing in Mexico, or share some Mexico/travelling experience of their own. But they usually understand that they should stop asking me for money.

Not this guy. He kept prattling on about how people don't always realize that it can be a really small gesture on their part that makes a big difference to the people on the receiving end. For example, if you committ to giving up one of your two daily lattes, you can put that money into a jar and at the end of the month you have a huge donation. Or have one less drink in a bar on the weekends. Or walk instead of taking a cab. We can all find little things in our lives that we can live without, he said.

Ok. Maybe I didn't explain myself. I'm living in Mexico. Small town Mexico. I already live without most of the stuff this guy mentioned. We don't have cafes or movie theatres; there are cabs in town, but I have a car; I don't really drink in bars these days. There is very little left for me to "give up".

I guess he didn't believe me because he started to use some examples that were a bit closer to home. "It doesn't have to be a big thing, maybe making a few dollars off your renters, or having one less margarita on the beach...."

I almost slugged him. What the hell does he know of my life? He's judging me because I'm walking down the street in the ritzy Pearl District, wearing a nice velvet scarf (inherited from my grandmother, thankyouverymuch), and I own a house here. He assumes that I can somehow find something in Mexico that is extraneous, that is some luxury that I can cut back on. He has no idea how much I don't have access to just by virtue of being in Mexico, by virtue of living in a small town there.

I finally got him to lose interest in me somehow and headed for Powell's. I had given up on going back to PF Chang's for the food I had ordered. I hadn't paid for it, so I wasn't losing anything. And I just couldn't stand the idea of having to walk back by this well-meaning asshole with food to go from PF Chang's.

So I kept walking south, hoping to come across some tasty restaurant. It was way past brekky time, so I ended up going to Safeway and buying eggs, going home and cooking myself a scramble with spinich, mushrooms and broccoli. Not quite as satisfying, but brekky all the same.

What to do?

The hard thing about coming back to Portland is that it's all a waiting game. I'm here waiting for calls or emails about people who want to rent the house. Then I'm waiting for them to get me their applications. Then I'm waiting for the 1st of the month so I can exchange keys and checks. Between all that I have to amuse myself somehow.

So far I've gone to a few restaurants, a few coffee houses, and Powell's. I've seen some friends. I took a yoga class with my mom. But all this still leaves me a lot of down time. So I get antsy. I want to have something to do. It's very frustrating.

The world out there....

The night before I headed north to "el otro lado" (the US) I was talking to Cynthia. I said that I had a friend in Portland who was from El Salvador, so I would be able to practice my Spanish while I was in the States. I told her this friend used to be my Spanish teacher and would probably (hopefully!) be impressed by how much I have learned in this past year.

"So he speaks Spanish?" she asked.

"Yeah. He teaches Spanish." To me, being able to teach your native language is pretty impressive, so I thought this would impress upon her just how smart Walter is.

"So he speaks it pretty well."

"Yeah, it's his native tongue." I thought maybe I hadn't used the correct Spanish to explain where Walter was from. But it's really easy to say: "Walter es de El Salvador". I knew I had said that correctly.

"Oh yeah?"

I didn't show it then but I was really shocked. Somehow I just assumed that she would know that El Salvador is a Spanish-speaking country. I mean, pretty much everything south of the US is Spanish-speaking. Wouldn't she have learned that in school?

I told Luis about this the next day and he just laughed. Said he wished I had told him while we were still in Tuxpan so he could have made fun of Cynthia.

I wasn't sure if it was funny or sad. I told my mom about this incident too and she suggested that the people there just aren't curious about the world outside of Tuxpan. And that was it. It's not that they aren't educated - everyone in Luis' family has been through high school at least - it's just that they aren't aware of the world outside of their own little lives. If something happens in northern Mexico, they might hear about it on the news. But if something happens in China, that information might not get to them, and even if it does they won't care. They are much more interested in the gossip of Tuxpan. They are isolated in their little town and they like it that way.

So different from me. I'm curious about other people, other cultures, other worlds. I've travelled to ten other countries, I've lived in five major cities in the States, my favorite tv show is "Globe Trekker". And here I am, surrounded by people who have travelled only to the little towns around them, who have lived in the same small town their whole lives, who's favorite tv show is "Bailando por un Sueno" - something akin to "American Idol". No wonder I don't have any friends I can relate to.

stuff

So I really don't know what it is I want. I'm watching some movie and one of the characters is talking to someone about the girl he is in love with. He says "how can I be there for her if I don't have my stuff together?" And at that moment I know that I don't have my stuff together and I don't even know what it is I want in this world.

Mike?

I was just over at Powell's books, milling about and wasting time on a cold rainy evening. I was walking into the Photography section when I casually looked over at someone flipping through a book. I looked away then did a double take. Was that him?

His hair was longer and curly, but he was just as slight physically as he had always been. I kept looking, trying to figure out if it was my old boyfriend from Atlanta. My mind raced. Did I dare keep looking at him to see if it was him? Or do I look away and keep walking?

I looked away. I realized that although I was curious in a "where are they now" sort of way, I really didn't have anything to say to him, and a conversation would just be awkward. We had split up poorly, and even now, almost 12 years later, I'm not sure those feelings are completely gone. So I looked away and kept walking.

But afterwards I looked around the store to see if I might catch a glance of this person who might have been someone who was once in my life. Maybe the shock of seeing him after so many years scared me too much to talk to him. And really, I'm not sure what I would have said, but there is that sort of voyuristic curiosity, that wondering of what he looks like, what he is doing now, but not wanting to interact with him that kept me looking.

In the end I didn't see the guy again, so I'll never know.

So Mike S., if you're in Portland, Oregon - sorry I didn't want to talk. But I hope your life is treating you well.

Anxiety, phobias and change

The older I get, or maybe it is the longer I'm in a relationship with Luis, the more often I get glimpses of the life attitude I have so many problems fitting into my own life. Luis has a fabulous ability to just let life happen. He doesn't necessarily plan too far in advance, but deals with things as they come along. I, on the other hand, feel the need to plan, to predict, to control everything I can in life.

But I am trying to change this, and being with Luis is a perfect place to do this.

I bought a National Geographic magazine in Mexico with an article on two different expeditions to the North Pole. One expedition was comprised of a veteran explorer and one newbie to that region of the world. The newbie had problems sleeping while the veteran didn't. The newbie asked him how his companion did it, wasn't he worried about the million different things that could go wrong - a bear attack, falling through thin ice, getting snowed in? The veteran answered: "If you worry, you die. If you don't worry, you die. So why worry?"

Although this brings up visions of Alfred E. Neuman's gap toothed smile and catch phrase "What, me worry?", that statement really hit me. At the time I was having anxiety attacks in the middle of the night. I would get up to use the bathroom and not be able to fall back to sleep. My head instantly started a monologue of "you should worry about this or that", and it was hard to shut it off.

I still have those anxiety attacks. I've had two of them since I got back to Portland. But every once in a while, while I'm thinking about my big "should I stay or should I go" decision, I think, "it doesn't really matter which choice I make, it will all work out one way or the other". And at times I can stay with that feeling for a while. But it doesn't last. The pragmatic part of my personality jumps in and takes over. That part of my personality doesn't leave any space in the world for adventure and risk.

Right now I'm listening to a Fresh Air podcast. Terry Gross is interviewing author Allan Shawn who is plagued with phobias. He speaks of those moments when our phobias are brought up by whatever triggers them, and how we think we are having an appropriate response to them. We think, "this is bad, this is actually bad. We don't think 'Oh i'm having a neurotic response, how silly of me'." That has happened to me. And at times I can look back at the experience and realize I was being neurotic, but most times I think I'm being rational.

This is all brought up by my desire to control things around me. If I can control things, I can be safe. This is how my family works. My mom is very logical, practical, rational. These are her strengths and her weaknesses. She seems a bit trapped by them, unable to break out of those thought patterns. And I guess I am like that as well. But living with Luis is a direct challenge to that mode of thinking. I'm not against change or trying new things, but change is always scary, and when you try to change something so basic in your personality, it is even more scary. "If I alter this cornerstone of my personality, what will happen to the structure of my being?"

People around me see me as being adventurous - I've been to a number of different countries, I've moved across the country a few times, now I've even lived in a foreign country - and maybe I am more adventurous than the average bear. But I never feel that way about myself. I tend to think I'm too safe. And this question of going back to Mexico pushes me to change that impression too. Why not throw caution to the wind and go back to Mexico? What's the worst that could happen? Luis and I have to come back to the US and take shitty jobs somewhere other than Portland because the house is rented out, waiting out the end of the lease.

I guess that's not the worst that could happen. I could die down there for any of a million different reasons. I could lose my mind and become worse emotionally than I think I am now. Luis could die and I'd have to deal with living without him.

Ok, going down that line of thought is just depressing me more. Must stop.

So why not just go? Learn better how to let go of the controlling aspect of my personality by throwing myself into a situation where I will obviously have to work on the spot.

Unfinished

So it's been over a month since I posted last. The reason is that I am really depressed and confused.

I am currently back in Portland to rent my house - again. The last tenants decided they couldn't afford to rent it any more. Quite frustratingly, this was my one concern about renting to them when they first applied. But they gave convincing testimony at that time so I figured they would work it out. Apparently they didn't. All of this doesn't matter too much, I suppose, as I was going to have to drive from Tuxpan to the border to update my visa and the permit to have my car in Mexico anyway. This side trip to Portland just added a mere 2000 miles to that trip.

But back to this depressed and confused thing.

The depression thing is pretty easy to explain. I'm living in a different culture, in a small town, with no support system. I speak some Spanish, but am by no means fluent. I have no female friends because it is difficult for me to connect with the women down there. Their lives consist of their children, their family, and the local gossip. They wonder why I don't have kids and why I don't want to have any. They can't seem to comprehend childlessness as an option. What else are women to do with their lives? I don't have any male friends either, because in my small town friendship between men and women is usually perceived as "they are having an affair". Besides, the social expectations for men and women are different - men don't do the things women do, and women certainly don't do what the men do in social situations. The two genders basically lead seperate social lives, each with their own gender.

So that leaves Luis as my only option for support. But he has different reasons to be in Mexico. He has lived more than half his life in the States, and doesn't really know his family the way he wishes he did. So one of his biggest goals in living in Tuxpan is to get to know his family. Which means spending tons of time with them. This isn't really a problem, and is quite normal in Mexican life. But that essentially takes him away from me. Not physically, as I usually spend time with him and his family too, but mentally and emotionally. He is sure of my presence (I am less so of his). He knows I will still be there at the end of the day, we will sleep in the same bed, hence we will have time together. He wants to talk with his family and friends while he has time with them, which is mostly during the day. So I tag along and listen in on what Spanish I can understand, and participate when I can, but I feel like I am a side dish, on the side lines, a secondary actor in this play. Whether I am there or not is of little consequence. If I don't feel like going to hang out with them, that is fine, I can go do whatever I want to do. The trouble is, there is little in Tuxpan that I want to do, and what there is to do I don't want to do without companionship. And, as we've established, that means Luis.

So depression has set in, and in a bad way.

As for the confusion thing, I am not really sure why I am in Mexico still. I went down to spend time with Luis and meet his family. We ran a bar for a few months and dropped it when it turned out to be a money pit. Then we opened a carpinteria to build cabinets and furniture. Unfortuantely, the people of Tuxpan are all codo (cheap, stingy). They want the lowest price at all times. Quality is not an issue for them. If they can buy a generic queen size bedframe for $3000 pesos ($300 USD) instead of buying a custom made, completely finshed one for $10000 pesos ($1000 USD), they will buy the cheaper one. Never mind that the $3000 peso bed will fall apart within a year or two, has drawers that don't work, and is unfinished so they have to paint or stain it. It is considered the best option because it is cheap. We are surrounded by the wrong clientelle.

So business at the carpinteria is ok. Not great. One option is to move to a different city (Guzman or Colima being the most obvious choices), but that will take capital to get re-started. And capital we do not have. And it will take time to get established. And I'm not sure I have any more Mexican-time in me right now.

So while I am up here re-renting the house, I have to consider whether to rent it out or to move back in. And this is a huge scary thought for me. I feel out of balance here, even though I feel more comfortable than in Mexico. How do I fit in here now? I know how I fit in (or, as is usually the case, don't fit in) down there. But for some reason, I'm not sure how to handle being here. I guess it is all due to the "rent or move in" question that is unanswered. If I knew which way I wanted to go on that, I would know what I had to do.

So what is so scary about moving back?

• Higher bills to cover, for one. We are low on money, and although I have enough to float on for a few months, I have a long, painful history of freaking out over money. But I could deal with this. I'll get a job, refinance my house, trade my car in for a lower payment, whatever it takes.
  
• Leaving Luis down there. I don't think he is ready to come back to the States, so I would be here alone. At the moment being alone doesn't seem to be the usual scary thing it usually is to me. Not that I want to be alone, I would much prefer to have Luis here with me, but if I have to leave him down there for the moment, I can deal with that.
  
• Feeling like a bit of a failure for not being able to survive down there. But how could I have? I know on some level that I am being too hard on myself, but I also have thoughts like "I didn't try hard enough", "I didn't make enough of an effort to find things that I wanted to do, even if I had to do them alone", and "a better, more adventurous person could have made this work." I'm not sure how to cure myself of this. It's a deep rooted feeling and not one that can be smoothed over with a layer of "be easier on yourself, you did your best". I don't think I did my best. I think I failed.
  
• I really don't want to leave Mexico with negative feelings about my experience. I wouldn't mind feeling like I had some hard times but in the end it all worked out. But to leave now would leave the impression in my own head that things sucked while I was there, that maybe it wasn't worth it to have gone in the first place.
  

So what to do? At the moment I am still showing the house to anyone who is interested in renting it. If I get someone who wants to rent it, I'll have to make a decision - rent to them and go back to Mexico, or tell them it's all been a cruel joke and they will have to look for somewhere else to live because I'm keeping this place for myself.

Even though there may seem to be a pretty cut-and-dry argument for moving back here -- you own a house, your renters are moving out, your mental health could use a little loving tender care, your financial situation is still good enough to support you for a bit of time -- it's oddly not that clear to me. What would 6 more months in Mexico do for or to me? Would I lose it altogether and come back a basket case? Or would I fight through it and come out a stronger person? Can I go back and change the things I don't like (the ones that I have some control over, that is)? Or do I have so little control that what I can change might be insignificant? Do I miss the US, and specifically Portland, so much that I need to come back? Am I giving up on an opportunity to live in a foreign country that I might not have again?

I need to get clear on what kind of life I want to be living, and what is the best way to achieve that life. That is why this whole question is scary.

No Such Luck

So I heard back from the Critical Mass folks - the one's who I submitted my photos to. "I am really sorry to let
you know that your entry did not make it into the group of the top 150."

Ah well....

My Sick Twin

After a month and a half of being ill, after two dozen different types of medicine, after injections of penicillin and eucalyptus oil, after unknown amounts of snotty tissue, after pains in my head and pains in my chest, after losing faith and thinking that I would never get healthy again, I have finally kicked whatever illnesses have been attacking me and am solidly on my way to being healthy again.

On January 4th, I woke up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. As I stood up from bed I felt my twin, my sick self, fall away from my body. I knew at that point that I might still be sick, I might still have to take medicine, but that was the turning point, it is all uphill from now on.

Home sweet home?

There is another house that is for rent. It’s on the edge of town in a quiet neighborhood, close to the main road that runs by Tuxpan. It looks to have three bedrooms, probably one bath, and a huge kitchen. We haven’t been inside to see it yet, but our friends Joel and Miriam took us by it to check it out. Unlike the majority of houses here, it actually has space – a yard if you will – around it. There are a bunch of houses in that neighborhood that are built the same, so it’s like a little neighborhood of American style houses. The owner is the grandmother of our current cabinetry client. And she wants to rent to people without kids.

So in theory we should be a shoe-in to rent it.

But the reality is that anything could happen. We went by the rental office to inquire about the house yesterday. The rental agent – the mother of our client – wasn’t in her office. But a security guard relayed our interest to her, and she returned a message via the guard. The house was still being fixed up after the last renter and wasn’t ready to be occupied yet. However, as soon as it is ready, she will give us a call.

Great, right? Maybe.

For all we know, she said that the house wasn’t ready because she didn’t want to rent to us, not because it really was still being fixed up. Or maybe she said that she would call us and will conveniently forget when the house is ready. We met her one time when we were talking to our client, and she seemed distant and cold. So it’s hard to tell what she thinks of us. And that is the main issue here. Not whether we can pay the rent reliably, or whether we are clean and responsible people, it’s all about whether she likes us or not.

But at least she is aware that we are interested. There isn’t anything else we can do, it’s all in her hands at this point. So we will wait.

Feliz Ano Nuevo!

Happy New Year to everyone out there! We had a low key evening, wrapping it up around 12.30 am. Now it's back to work, although we have a trip to the beach planned for later this week. I'll be happy to go as it might help my continuing illness. I'm currently taking two injections of medication per day, and they seem to be working. Hopefully I will be back to my robust self by the weekend.

Hope you all had a great holiday season and are happy, healthy and relaxed for 2007!