Hold the Glimmer

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She is my muse, love.  My life.  My soul, which I never knew or believed existed until I felt her breath… my breath, filling my lungs.  Lately words have been flowing from my heart that I never expected to hear, feel, or believe.  It is as real and as drastic a transformation as I have ever experienced.  Apparently, it is wholely possible to look forward to speaking to someone just moments after hanging up the phone – to miss someone mere seconds following farewells.  It seems that, despite all doubt, in all appearances, potentially, probably, ipso. fucking. facto. that love not only exists, but that I find myself eyebrow deep in it.  This is a first.  Many firsts, in fact.  But, certainly the first time I find myself deep in something that did not require legal, medical, or moral assistance to get out of.

I am writing this for the same reason I’ve ever written anything, because I have to.  I have written, to date, a number of letters beyond my ability to count (which is to say, I’ve run out of fingers and toes) regarding the subject of love, the subject of my love, addressed to… well, you get the point.  I have killed four pens, 2.5 notebooks, and three packs of evelopes in just a couple of months.  So for anyone wondering if The Duke of Glimmer has been writing… he has, but only for one person as of recently.  And although she prefers not to share my attention, I’m sure she’ll grant me reprieve in this case.

My love is music, for I found her through music.  My love is friendship, for I found her through friendship.  She is dance, and light, and laughter… gorgeous hot days, and long desert nights.  She is drugs – I will not lie.  The greatest (seriously, the greatest) drug I’ve ever known.  I am convinced she is the path to my enlightenment – if that is a thing and it can truly be achieved.  And if not, I’m just fucking happy.  Really happy. Happy enough to write this sappy post that you will probably read, say “awww,” puke, then take an insulin shot.  And that’s fine.

The point is that it’s real and it’s out there – love.  It’s not something you’re expecting to find, or that you seek out on purpose.  It just grows, organically – non GMO, always fair trade.  I didn’t even know I wanted it until love found me, but now I’ll fight with the passion of a thousand souls to keep it, this fire that burns in my heart.  There’s no formula, just live your life and let it find you.  It will.  Somehow it found me.  Somehow there’s a beautiful woman in this world who is just like me, but better… so much better.  Genuinely, just ask Tracy, she’s better… and she loves me, lucky fool that I am.  So for anyone struggling or lonely out there – trust me, if you’re holding the glimmer, sooner or later the universe will send someone to share the burden.

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It’s been a rough one, glimmies.  I’m sure all three of you were well aware of our absence (please just let me believe you were at least.. I need SOMETHING TO BELIEVE IN right now….), but SHIT has gone DOWN in the last month and I haven’t had enough time to formulate words in to a post.  Let me rephrase that- I’ve had MORE THAN ENOUGH TIME to write a post because I am officially unemployed.

 
yep.
 
Dream company? see yuh.
 
How did this all happen?  Well, I’m still in a haze of “unclear”, followed by shock, and the inevitable depression.  I wish I could write a series of events leading up to my “departure”, but I genuinely have no idea how it happened.  I was never warned, I was never counseled, hell I was being praised on a daily basis.  I guess not being “the right fit” in a group of 40+ year old scorned women, means I’m not ready to dedicate my life to being…a 40yr old..scorned woman?  Maybe my boss didn’t like exclamation points after my “Thanks” for the 20 Lakers tickets, handful of Clippers games, soccer games, concerts, or other notable events.  Maybe the board meeting I single-handedly prepared for 4 people (that turned into 12…the day of the meeting…at the penthouse of the Ritz…) wasn’t up to par, but the grateful emails from all attendee’s seemed to validate a good job?  Maybe he wasn’t happy that I was on vacation in the desert, sitting in my car, on the phone with the travel agency for over 30 minutes, scheduling same day flights and hotel accommodations to Texas and then a quick day stop in New York? Maybe I just wasn’t good at creating an entirely new filing system on my second week, purging an entire 4 foot cabinet of unnecessary files, and filing 6 years worth of stuff his last assistant “forgot” to do. Maybe learning their expense reporting program on my own and presenting him with an expense report for a months worths of receipts ( ON MY EIGHTH DAY) that i took it upon myself to track down from various hotels and restaurants across the country because his last assistant “forgot to do one and couldn’t find the receipts”….wasn’t good enough for him?
 
Who. knows. 
 
All I can remember is an HR rep walking in to his office at 4:15, his door opening at 4:30, and a calm “Hey Tracy, can you step inside my office for a minute” from ex-bossman, followed by “you were an incredible employee and we hope you can find another position within the company, but….” Then some blah, blah, blah, and ex-bossman interrupting HR rep with “I’m really sorry, but I’m late for a meeting.”  He stood up and walked out.  I didn’t get a hand shake.  I didn’t get a thank you.  I didn’t get an “I’m sorry.”  Just like that, it was done.  The HR rep asked for my badge, my parking pass, and told me I wasn’t allowed to touch my computer “for security reasons” and to grab whatever I could off of my desk.  She handed me a parking validation to get out of my lot.  And then, I left.  Just like that.  No tears, until I turned the corner on my last walk to my parking structure, where I started bawling uncontrollably and sprinting to my car.  To make matters even more comically worse, the validation I was given was expired.  I COULDNT EVEN EXIT THE GODDAMN PARKING LOT.  I drove around feverishly, trying to find a parking attendant, who then told me I would need my original parking pass to exit.  I tried to stay calm, but instead yelled “I JUST FUCKING LOST MY JOB AND I WANT TO GET OUT OF THIS FUCKING PARKING LOT.  THIS IS ALL THEY GAVE ME.  OPEN THE GATE BEFORE I DRIVE THROUGH IT.” And she did.  And I drove home, crying uncontrollably, calling my mom, calling my friends, yelling at drivers at the top of my lungs with the windows down, being THAT GIRL on the afternoon commute home.
 
(ps writing this is totally NOT THERAPEUTIC, DUKE.)
 
I’m so embarrassed.  I’m also pretty sure that’s the reason I’ve failed to inform MANY of my friends and family.  I just……ugh…I felt so important. I felt like the coolest kid in class being able to call friends on a whim to join me at the game that night, or for a concert, or whatever AWESOME thing was given to me for that night or weekend.  I know that friendships are more than some REALLY AWESOME GAMES, but to be able to give that to somebody?  Fuck man…it was just so damn cool.  I felt like a rock star.  Every. Night. Of. The. Week.
 
and then it all just… disappears.  Do you realize how difficult that is?  
 
Fortunately for me, I have the absolute most incredible support system in the world.  My meltdown lasted all of 22 hours, followed by the best soul-searching dinner of my life with Duke (granted, we were knee-deep in Tennessee honey (ie: whiskey…keep up kids..))  Duke, being one of the wisest in my arsenal of friends, reminded me that not only do I now have the opportunity to do whatever the fuck I want, but I can also go back to school and finally get my degree.
 
So, that’s what I’m going to do.  I’m going to pursue my dream of writing (without three hundred run-on sentences. ((HA or triple parenthesis! (((LIES.))) Who knows, this whole blog may take a new form of Community-esque amazement? I can’t even begin to imagine my new daily character encounters! Maybe it wont? All I know is that I’m holding the glimmer, as strongly as I can.

Step in to My Office…

Oh, hi.  Come here often?

Shall we just get all of the apologies and excuses out of the way?  I can’t possibly write another exquisite piece knowing all 2 (yes, we lost 2 of you) of our readers would rather stab themselves with dull, diseased envelope openers than see me have the gall to actually blog/write/rant/complain again.  In fact, after discussing blog topics with a few trusty friends, I have a pretty strong feeling you’ll all hate me in less than 8 minutes and 2000 words, so who really cares? We move along.

I’ve missed you HTG! To say that I’ve been going through A LOT in the last few months is a major understatement and disservice to my life, but apparently some higher up form decided I paid enough dues in real-estate hell to earn a position at my DREAM COMPANY.  I’m sure you all remember Duke’s fabulous announcement a few posts back, congratulating my meager crawl across a now noted plateau in my career history, but this is different. This is major.   In fear of divulging too much and the very real possibilities of actually losing said job because of said blog, I will try and remain as anonymous about it as possible- but you should know I’m pretty important now (not like you thought differently before…), and I welcome any and all forms of flattery and bribery. 

In addition to my new title of “severely important”, I’m also officially a commuter!!  I’ve been in some form of working world since I was 16 and never had to drive more than 20 miles to any job.  For a few years there, my commute was 13 miles round trip.  I know. I was lucky…and incredibly ungrateful.  On a good day (and leaving before 7am…gross…), I’m faced with 40 minutes of concrete, commentary (thank you always, Howard Stern), and cars.  On a bad day, it’s 2 hours of planning how quickly I can get out of my car on a moving freeway to gently tap on someone’s window and ask how they became such a shitty driver in a city that doesn’t walk.  As horrible as it seems, I truly do find a sense of peace thinking there’s a “we’re all in this together” hidden attitude in each and every car on that freeway.   I’ll stop being positive now; my friends say it’s ruining our relationships.

With all this new found time to….be by myself….I’ve started having some profound conversations…with myself.  Please note- I’m really not interested in your idea or definition of profound.  This is my blog after all.

  •  If we commuters could all collectively agree to drive a minimum of 40 mph on the freeway between the hours of 7am-9am and 5pm-7pm, we’d all be far less disgruntled and I’d imagine additionally having a generally happier demeanor.  What’s most disturbing is that I would assume 75% of drivers on the freeway at those given times are every day users (I mean, only an idiot or tourist would get on an LA freeway before 9am for fun…which is describing pretty much all of LA. Fuck.), which means they have an already decided on ramp and off ramp.  Can we all just start pinky swearing to stay in our lanes til appx 2 miles from our exit?  Also- sorry trucks, but you’re out of this equation entirely.  You are awesome and ohsonecessary for too many reasons to list, but you’re officially not allowed on that freeway between those times either.  I can’t tell you how many trucks I’ve been stuck behind IN THE FAST LANE at 8am.  No. mas. Profound- right.
  • I’m going to start the campaign to turn the 101 into a toll road.  I’m positive this will come off as elitist, but this is what happens when you’re stuck in a car for 15 hours a week.  Not only will the city benefit from the major influx of funds from said toll, our “thriving” public transportation will pick up and actually become of use to this city.  Mass transportation seems to work in every other city besides our own, so why not try to make ours, at the very least, half as good as San Francisco’s (pipe dreams….).  Additionally- fewer cars on the freeway, fewer accidents, fewer carbon emissions, less of a need to punch people in the face every time they ask where you commute from…
  • Stereotypes are true.  Take that statement as you will.
  • The lack of windows on a car/truck/van is directly related to the amount of whistles I receive.  Apparently, I give off the “PLEASE do me in your creepy vehicle immediately” vibe.  Still working on that one… (ps- I really just need to know if that has ever worked.  Please, someone just chime in and let me know if you have ever whistled at a girl and she walked over to your car and banged you.  I just, I need closure and to know this actually works for me to understand the whistling phenomenon.)
  • Speaking of banging, can we just get over Chris Brown being the worst human being alive already? I GET IT. He beat our favorite princess up. He’s already the spokesperson for those needing anger management courses, must we hate him forever (for ev ev ever, for ev ev ever…had to, sorry..)???  Sean Penn laid a few fingers on Madonna and his box office sales didn’t fall- hell he’s friends with Venezuela now (ok maybe this isn’t good).  What about Bobby and Whitney (bad example again, Tracy)???  He beat the crap out of Whitney, but New Edition still tours, so I’d assume we got over it.  Or the infamous Ike and Tina?  Ike died revered as one of the best producers of all time and he beat the absolute SHIT out of Tina FOR YEARS!  And lest we forget Mrs. Hilary Clinton.  Yep, good ol Hil use to beat up Bill.  We never really questioned who wore the pants in that relationship, but clearly- we got over it.  Can we all just agree that Chris is kind of a douchebag that makes records I really want to dance to?

Told ya you’d hate me..


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