In the end....

 I'm having a rough go of it this Christmas.

Mom is in the hospital.

BF is not answering his phone.  Which could mean a drug run.

I am in a hotel room, in the city where my mom and sister live, hoping to see my mom in person.

But she's in the hospital. Where they aren't allowing visitors due to Covid-19. So that seems like a slim possibility.

I'm here alone, in a hotel room on Christmas day, watching movies, worrying about Mom.  Worrying that BF is gone again, and what do I do with that?

I'm in a hotel room, not sure what to do with myself.  Watching movies.  Trying to avoid thinking about reality.

What a fucked up year it's been.

This year was different

I started paddling on a Dragon Boat team in 2004. 

2019 was my 15th year paddling (I missed one year while living in Mexico).  It was my 4th time coaching a team.  My current team has been in existence for 4 years, I have been on it for three of those years.  My first year I just paddled, but couldn’t help myself from giving tips to newer paddlers.  The next two years I coached the whole team.

Four years ago we started out as a Division 4 team.  That’s out of 4 total divisions, Division One being the best.  We medaled that year, second place

Three years ago we medaled in Division 4, first place.  

Two years ago we came in at the bottom of Division 2. No medals for us.  

This year we medaled in Division 2, third place.

We paddled against some really tough teams.  Two of those teams have been in Division One or Two for the past four years.  And we kept pace with them!  We came in third in the finals by half a second.  It was a tight race.

We have come a long way in four short years.  I’m so proud of us.

However, this year felt different to me, knowing what my future may hold.  I don’t know if I’ll be coming back next year.  I have chosen to follow a new career which will take me out of town for weeks at a stretch.  This is new territory for me.  I’m launching into the unknown - again.  Will it be a move in the right direction?  Will I love it, or at least like it enough to follow that path for a while? 

I’m also ready to move away from Portland.  At least for a while.  I’ve been here for 17 years - longer than I’ve lived anywhere.  It’s odd and somewhat comforting.  I know what building was on that corner over there years ago, before they tore it down and built that new apartment building.  I know what restaurants have occupied the same space over the years, each new one thinking they can make a go of it when the ones before it couldn’t.  I know how to get around town (at least on the East side), avoiding the high-traffic areas.  All of which makes me feel like I’ve been here too long.  I’m growing moss on my feet from standing still too long.  I want to explore new places, and revisit old places.  I want to get more sun, meet new people, get some new creative inspiration.  This new career will offer me those opportunities.

Dragon Boat has been one thing that has kept me happy with it’s consistency over the years.  Every December I get an email from my team Captain rousting me out of my winter doldrums, offering the promise of camaraderie and time on the river.  I pay my fee, and block off my schedule.  

The end of March rolls around and it’s still chilly on the river.  Wear layers of clothing to stay warm.  Stretch out those muscles that don’t feel like they’ve gotten much use this past year.  Tap into body memory to get the paddling form going.  Make adjustments for a body that is a year older, perhaps a few pounds heavier or lighter.  Try to improve your stroke, your strength, your endurance.  Pull harder, stay in time, watch your stroker.  Get off the boat and feel the results of your work.  Repeat three times a week for ten long weeks.

April and May come, the sun stays out longer, some days are actually warm and dry.  Suddenly Race weekend is around the corner.  It’s a full weekend of pre-race party, Seeding Races, Elimination Races, and post-race party.  Photos explode on Facebook, praising and remembering the events of the previous days.  The flush of a great season stays with you for a day, a week - until the real world creeps back in and pushes that flush to the back of your mind and into memory.

The Summer Party email is sent out, a time when we can all get together in a few months to see one another again.

And then the lull.  Three days freed from suiting up and meeting at the flagpole.  No longer wondering if you’ve remembered all your gear as you rush from your house.  No more looking at the weather report to determine how many layers you want to wear tonight.  You eat when you want, not tied down to holding off if you’re going to be on the boat soon.

And yet, when you see those photos again, and think about putting your all into each race, “leaving it all on the river”, your heart beats a bit faster, and you check the calendar to figure out how many more months or weeks before you can do it all again.

I love my Dragon Boat team, and hope that I can - somehow - figure out how to participate next year.  Or perhaps I will take a year off and return sometime in the future.  In the meantime I will bask in the warmth of post-season glory, and look forward to the Summer Party.

Not Alice

My world feels like Wonderland right now.  Things are topsy-turvy.

We had a small electrical fire at the house this week.  There is still old knob-and-tube wiring in the house, which I've wanted to get rid of for years.  But I've never felt like I had the means to do so.  It's not an inexpensive proposition.    

And it's been hot this summer.  Greg got an A/C unit, which we plugged in to what was apparently one of the remaining knob and tube outlets.  Unfortunately, half of the outlets and lights in the house (including this one) were on one, singular circuit breaker.  Really? But the house was built in 1897, probably had electrical added in the 1920's, back when there weren't building codes or concerns about overloading a circuit.

On Tuesday, the circuit blew.  I was at class, Greg was at home, so he reset the breaker and nothing came on.  He left the circuit off and then went to his class.  Apparently some of the knob and tube wiring arced and started a smoldering fire in the old insulation in the attic.  

Fortunately both of us got back to the house about an hour and a half later.  The smoldering hadn't turned into flame yet, but we could smell smoke.  I looked in the closet where there is access to the attic and there was smoke there.  Greg asked for a fire extinguisher and said "call 911".  We pulled things out of the closet to get access to the attic and I made the call.  

Four fire trucks showed up.  Neighbors showed up to ask what was going on.  A fire inspector showed up to make sure it wasn't arson.  I got on the phone to my insurance company.  Greg, fortunately, talked to the firemen and convinced them not to turn the hoses on the house unnecessarily.  Instead, they took down the ceiling fan in the front room (they had been in the attic and identified that as the hot spot and the source of the smoke), and cut away the ceiling right there.  They were able to use minimal water to extinguish the fire.  That saved SO MUCH.  If they had turned the hoses on the house, it quite possibly would have been declared a complete loss.

Let that sink in for a moment.  

Instead we have a big hole in the front room, smoke damage, some structural damage, and a ruined electrical system.

But I have homeowners insurance.  And I have "code upgrade" insurance which will cover bringing my house up to code.  Which means new electrical in the house, a cleaned out attic (bye-bye old, useless insulation), and new insulation.

Holy hell.

The house is livable, so we're still there.  We're working around having only 50% of our usual electricity.  Extension cords and dimly lit rooms.

At first I thought, "well, we dodged a bullet there.  And this doesn't look like too much to fix up.  An electrician, a framer, someone to fix the lath and plaster ceiling, paint it and off we go."  

Then the "vendors" started showing up.  

The first guy was assigned by my insurance company, he says.  Oh, ok.  He works for a one-stop shop that will take care of everything for us.  The adjusters are so overworked that they will often ask him to manage the whole project and just report back to them when the work is done.  Oh, that sounds promising, they obviously trust you.  We will come in and take the contents of your house to get them cleaned from the smoke and store them until the construction work is done.  We will send your artwork to a specialized company that deals with art because we want to make sure it is treated properly.  Well, that is certainly nice because I love my art and have a lot of it.  We also have another department that will come take care of your textiles (curtains, clothing, rugs, etc) to get them cleaned or replaced.  Wow, I didn't know that was a thing.  Lastly we will coordinate electricians, carpenters, painters and post-construction cleaners to get your house back up to pre-loss condition.  Really?  All this for me?  Plus I'm contacting my assistant right now to have her get an air scrubber over here this evening to deal with the residual smoke in the air.  That's very considerate.  I am in charge of the Contents Department and we only have one-page that we need you to sign to get things started.

Ok, hold up.  I know enough about insurance to know that I don't have to go with you just because you are "assigned" by my insurance, right?  That's true.  Ok, I have a call into another company and I'd like to talk to them first.  That's fine.  They are a good company too.  But I've worked with your adjuster before and I have a really good relationship with him......


Thanks for your time and for the air scrubber.  Just to let you know, every vendor is in Audition Mode with me at this point.  I've never had to deal with a house fire before and I don't know all the facts or what the scope of the project is.  I want to talk to a few more vendors before I make any decisions, but I will let you know which way I'm going to go once I make that decision.

And then I started calling the vendors, and electricians on my own.  Another insurance adjuster called me - apparently I'll have 2 or 3 adjusters over this process - and was *much more* forthcoming with information than my first adjuster.  In quick succession I had a phone conversation with Adjuster #2, a meeting with a Textile vendor, a meeting with another All-in-One company, and an independent Electrician.  Then I had a meeting with my local insurance guy.

And then I started to fall apart a bit.  I hadn't understood the full scope of the work that needed to be done.  It was such a small fire, really.  Is all of this necessary?  And what if I make the wrong choice of vendor?  How am I going to navigate all this without fucking up?

Again, Greg was there to calm me down and assure me that I'm not going through this alone.  That everything is going to work out just fine.  He has been a life saver so far.  Had he not talked to the firemen and asked them to do minimal damage, my house might be damaged beyond reasonable repair.  And he has been there to support me every step of the way.  At one point we had three different conversations overlapping each other - Adjuster #2, Electrician and All-in-One company #2.  We seamlessly played tag team between them all.  He talked to the electrician while I wrapped up the conversation with the adjuster.  When All-in-One #2 showed up, he started talking to them, leaving me to finish up the conversation with the electrician.  Once I got to the All-in-One company, Greg had to take off to go to class himself.  It was pretty impressive how we rolled through all three so seamlessly.

Now today is Friday and we don't have anything scheduled regarding the fire.  Nor do I have any massage clients this weekend, which is fortunate.  But I'm going to have to figure out what exactly I'm going to be able to do about it by next weekend when I have two clients.

My stomach is achey.  I've had three headaches these past two weeks due to smoke in the air from wildfires on the West Coast.  The wildfire smoke has made going outdoors unpleasant, and made the city seem overcast.  Today the smoke has minimized, but the clouds have rolled in, which brings my depression with it.  Our back yard looks like a lumber yard because we had started to clean out the shed and Greg was in the midst of doing some repairs on the house before the fire happened.  And since I'm not working right now, I'm home *a lot*. 

I feel overwhelmed at times, in a holding pattern at other times.  We will be displaced out of the house at some point so that construction can happen.  And our belongings will be taken away to be cleaned (or it will be determined that we should just replace them).  Choba will have to deal with being taken to a new abode for a while, as will we.  And we'll have to keep an eye on things at the house during construction.  All this while I'm going to be in truck driving school and Greg alone will be supporting us financially.

Topsy-turvy here we come.

Time and tide

I've got to get my brain wrapped around the possibility of change - big change - in my life.  Figure out what I'm afraid of, what I'm willing to try out, what I'm not willing to let go of.

Greg and I have been talking about going Long Haul Trucking as a team.  He's done it before, for about 7 years, so I'd have him to rely on for experience.  I'd have to get my CDL, but that is apparently fairly easy.

But there is the house to think about, and Choba.  Greg's brother might be an option as a house sitter for the first couple of months - just until I get the feel for the work and decide if I want to go full time for a longer time period.

We are considering having Greg get a Long Haul job and bringing me along as a passenger.  I didn't know that was an option, but Greg says yes.  That would give me an opportunity to check out the life with out much commitment on my part.  We'd be reliant on his income alone (there's a first for me!), until I either decided to join him, or move back into the house and get another job.

I like this idea a lot.  I dislike my job so much and wouldn't mind never going back except to get my tools.  And I'd be able to test out the Long Haul lifestyle.  Regardless of what we do I have to get a new job, so if there is a month gap in my employment while I'm testing it out, what is the difference?

What is slowing me down at the moment is waiting on Greg to get some things organized on his side.  He would need to get a Long Haul job.  He needs to see if he can get a schedule that would work with some commitments he has here in town.

So there is some frustration for me with having to wait.

But there is also hesitation about jumping into another adventure where I have to almost completely rely on another person for my finances, my safety, my daily existence.  I did that in Mexico and it was painful.  Twelve years later I'm still affected by some of my experiences there.  I'm still gun shy, still untrusting.

But this isn't Mexico and it is Greg, not that other guy.

I feel close to making a decision.  And once I make that decision a different kind of impatience will arise:  I will want to immediately make the change, not wait any longer.

Guess we need to figure out how to do this quickly......

The one that got away?

I met a guy online.  We talked on the phone before we met face to face.  I was unsure, but figured one beer and an hour of my time would be a reasonable risk.

We talked for 2 1/2 hours that first time.  He was interesting.  He had a very difficult life but seemed to have risen above it.  There were things he was still dealing with, but he was well on his way, he was on a good path.

The next time we hung out, we talked for 4 hours.  We both stayed up past our standard bedtimes (we both work early in the morning, it's not just because we are old!).  He said it was a worthy investment.

He was cute, in a big teddy bear kinda way.  But his life had made it's mark on his body.  Some of that was less than cute.

We talked, we hung out, he met a few of my friends.  We hung out at my house, in my neighborhood, never his.  I was pretty ok with this.  But I didn't realize it was a small sign.

He asked me to be his girlfriend.  It was way too early.  We had only known each other maybe two weeks.  I said no.  He considered walking away at that point, he told me later.

He seemed to be awed by me.  Or fascinated.  Or.... something.  I felt like I was the driver of the relationship.  He was trailing behind me, being fascinated.  "Oh, let's see what she does next!"  For a while that was fun.  But I was always in front.  I started to feel like a draft horse.

He was interesting.  I was curious about him.  He seemed to be a "what you see is what you get" kind of guy.  He wanted to learn how to be a better person.  I told him what I knew.  He drank it in.  I started to feel parched.

We had good times.  Yet I held him at a distance.  I too had scars from previous relationships and wasn't willing or ready to receive more.  And I was unsure about him.  I had 70% / 30% split feelings.  The percentages weren't good enough.

We talked one day and were going to get food.  I said I would meet him at the restaurant rather than having him pick me up.  I needed me time.  He said ok, but called back 10 minutes later saying he was going to skip it.  I heard it in his voice.  He was thinking of walking away again.  Tipping point time.  I said ok.

I sent him an email that evening saying that I was never going to be the woman he wanted.  I think I wanted to say that I didn't think he would be the man I wanted, but it felt too cruel, too final, and I didn't want to take the blame.  It would have felt too final.

I left it open to him as to whether he wanted to remain in contact, to be friends.  He replied that he felt differently (I'm skeptical), and was going to keep his distance.

My condolence is that I got to be the bad guy.  Perhaps it made him feel better.  I don't think he wanted to walk away.  So maybe I gave him an out.  Or maybe I'm making that up to make myself feel better.

Of course I miss him.  I miss the conversations we had.  I miss flirting with him.  I miss the attention.

I fill in the gaps now.  The gaps that could have been a blind spot for me.  In a previous time I might have been able to overlook those gaps, and fill them in with what I wanted.  That ability has hamstrung me before.  It's why I was so defensive this time.  I didn't want to fall prey to my own traps again.  So I looked honestly at the 30% and decided it outweighed the 70%.  I want better percentages.

But boredom and loneliness go back to their old habits and now I fill in those gaps.

So far I've kept myself from contacting him again.  My fear being that those gaps would be even more apparent now, and seeing him again would only solidify my conviction.  And I would hurt him even further because I would solidly reject him while perhaps he was thinking there was hope.  I'm not that cruel.

Or would I see that the gaps weren't that big after all?

Perhaps I've made a mistake.  Perhaps I've been too judgmental.  Perhaps I didn't have enough patience.  Or perhaps I was right.  The only way I can think of to clarify this for me is too much of a risk to his feelings.

So I have to just sit with this for now.

Put in her place

I'm tired of being told, in ways obvious and subtle, by the men around me that I'm not doing things right.  That I'm not good enough.  Not strong enough. Not talented enough. Not knowledgeable enough.  Not enough.  Lesser.

This week was difficult at work.  I'm so tired of the dysfunction, and I was letting it get to me.  I've been working on a project which has allowed me to block out my coworkers for the most part.  It's been nice.  But it's given me a lot of time to think, which can be a dangerous thing.

I looked around the shop and examined each male there.

Jim has his own shop within the shop, essentially.  I was looking at his space and it's probably 1/4 of the whole shop.  He is a curmudgeon, and no one really wants to interact with him, which includes walking through "his" area.  Mike, the owner, thinks Jim walks on water, so he gets tons of respect, and gets away with being a dick.  Dane, the manager, hates Jim, and the feeling is mutual, so there's no control on Jim from that corner.  Jim has his situation set up to work perfectly for Jim.  He's got space and controls who interacts with him.

Mark has worked at the company for 30 years.  He's dealt with Mike's personality for so long he's obviously built up a thick skin for it.  He's good at what he does, and also has Mike's admiration.  He has a chunk of the shop as well.  Not quite as big as Jim's, but spacious nonetheless.  I like Mark.  He's cheery most of the time, and easy to approach.

Jeff is an interesting case.  He's petrified of change.  He worked for his last company for 20 years.  This isn't necessarily a bad thing.  But added to some of his other behaviors, it shows a pattern of calcification.  He is a nervous little critter, but he's a producer.  Give him a project and he'll get it done.  He also has a habit of taking over any flat surface within 30 feet.  His bench is right next to mine.  So most of the space around me is taken up by his work.

Marlin is a good friend of mine.  We worked together at another shop, and I dragged him into this place.  He is good at what he does - I call him the Master of Minutia.  This is a good thing in fine woodworking.  His bench is on the other side of mine.

My bench is situated at the bottle neck of the shop.  If I use any floor space, I'm blocking the main thoroughfare.  Compare this to Jim's space.

Dane, the manager, has used me as the main on-site manager for the work we've done at Nike.  Not that that gives me any authority or power or control.  It just leaves him off the hook for actually having to be on site and being responsible for the work done there.  He is still the point of contact for Nike people.  I was shown this pointedly this week.  Dane is going to be out of town this coming Monday and Tuesday.  We need to go to Nike on Tuesday to do some work.  I suggested that Dane give my phone number to the point of contact at Nike so that he could reach me directly in case plans needed to change.  Relying on Mike to pass along pertinent information is sketchy at best, so I figured that if I was the temporary contact, that would take care of things.  Dane hesitated.  He didn't want to give my number to the Nike guy.  The only reason I can think of is so that he feels like he can maintain some sort of "control" over the situation, to be sure that he was seen as being useful.  Which he isn't.  He ended up cc'ing me on an email to the Nike guy.  Lame.

Having worked in a male-dominated industry for so long, and being a tomboy since my teens, I am comfortable doing "male" things, like lifting heavy items, hauling garbage out to the dumpster, loading heavy things into our piece of shit van.  But it never fails that the guys (Jeff in particular) will walk right by me when I'm doing some task that I could easily walk away from, to ask someone else to stop what they are doing to help him lift something.  Dane does this too.  Jeff actually asked me on Friday if I needed help putting something into my car.  As if anything heavier than a purse was beyond my abilities.  It's insulting.  Mostly I let them lift the heavy things because if anyone is going to break their back doing something, I'm fine with it not being me.  But for fuck's sake.

So I have the smallest space in the shop.  I am useful to take over a certain level of responsibility, without the corresponding respect or control, in some situations.  I am obviously a weak girl who needs help on the basic parts of my job.

I don't think my boss quite knows how to interact with me.  He rarely talks to me unless I'm in the office (where our female bookkeeper sits).

It all adds up to a grumpy Laura.  Fuck this place.  I get no respect, a large reason is because I'm female.  And my attitude sucks.  But who could blame me?  I need to leave my job, and soon.

A previous episode, in a previous series, and a previous life

These are the words of Anthony Bourdain, at the beginning of an episode of his show "Parts Unknown".

It echos for me.

I've been wondering if it's time for me to change.  Change my job.  Change my career.  Change where I'm living.  Change how I'm living.  Change my attitude.

I was talking to a friend who is also a woodworker.  His goal has been to achieve the status of working at a furniture place, like the one we both currently work at.  He has never wanted to do something else.  He is happy, in a way.  Happy enough to put up with the active disfunction that imbues our company.

I listen to him and I wonder if I'm the anomaly.  I get bored.  I need to change.  Others like to stay where they are at.  Some of them are happy where they are at.  Some not so much.

I am neither happy nor interested in staying.  I need that change.  And I need to acknowledge that it's not a bad thing.

There is apparently a part of me which wishes to fit in with those around me.  And there is a deeper, more primal part of me that just doesn't, won't ever really, fit in.  That's the one I want to follow now.