spinsterwoman’s blog

Tomorrow morning I have a job interview.  I put my resume on an online search engin last Friday, and have gotten several bites.  This makes me feel better because there are days I leave my current job feeling worthless.  Job interviews and first dats make me so nervous.  I never seem to get them right.  I handle the first date nerves by getting drunk out of my mind and having sex with the guy. Of course those pesky double standars still exist and therefore I sign off on all rights to be respected.  Job interviews are much trickier.  I only do well on them when I am already employed and I know I'll pay rent and eat regardless of how things go.  I never quit a job without having another offer, especially in this economy.  Speaking of quitting, I never seem to know what to tell the potential employer when they ask why I want to leave my current job. The recruiter asked me this on the phone the other day.  This was awkward because my current boss  happened to walk into the break rom while I was speaking to her on my cell phone. I blurted out something about needing a change of scenery and wanting new challenges.  I wasn't particulary pleased with it but I couldn't exactly tell her I had a sordid tryst with a co-worker and looking at him every day makes me sick.  I couldn't tell her I just don't feel like my job is a good fit for me and I really don't  know why.  Is any job a perfect fit?  No, but bills have to be paid so unlike first dates, job interviews cannot be avoided and you cannot get drunk to deal with the nerves.  One thing I do know is, I am NEVER having a sordid tryst with a co-worker again. 

Happy Belated 4th of July!

I took at really cool cell phone photo of the American flag decoration my friend Sandra's mother had hanging on her fence at her 4th of July barbecue.  The plan was to upload it to the site, but I couldn't figure out how to get the picture from from my cell phone into cyberspace for your viewing pleasure.  Technological savvy is not one of my strong points.  I have had this cell phone for almost a year and only recently figured out how to take a picture.

Sandra is a woman I worked with a few years ago. We got along right away.  I liked the fact that we were both over the age of 20, yet not single mothers of  3 or more children or extremely bitter bitches.  Best of all, she did this KILLER imitation of our evil boss, Patra that cracks me up every time I hear it.  She recently got married and had a baby, and the 4th of July was the first time I had seen her in almost a year.  I have only been to her family's home a few times, but every time I am there, I am treated like a member of the family.  Everyone from her mother to her brother Joey to her cousins remembers me from the last visit even if it was a year ago, and I am just learning to know them. We all ate burgers and dogs, drank beer and talked.  Later I read everyone's tarot cards.  These days, I prefer this type of outing to being at a crowded beer garden with a bunch of obnoxious drunks.   Sandra's little girl is a spitting image of her, and seems to have her pleasant disposition.  I rarely heard her fuss, even when the fireworks crashed into the night.

Meanwhile back in Nebraska, my cousin Bruce shot himself in the head.  He did it in my aunt and uncle's basement, after the family got back from viewing the fireworks.  Anytime someone commits suicide there's a mountain of questions. Why did he do it?  Was he depressed?  Were there signs?  The family is taking is hard, I guess.  I have had many bouts with depression where I wished I was dead.  When I was five years old, I came home from kindergarten wanting to kill myself, and said this to family members often.  To this day I cannot remember what triggered this.  Did I just want attention?  Did I really hate life?  Did I even know the difference between life and death?  I was five for Christ's sake!  For me, "killing myself" has always been a metaphorical thing.  When I say "I'm going to kill myself" or "I wish I was dead" what I really mean is,  "I am NOT happy right now and I want to snap my fingers and be somebody else, doing something completely different than this".  I know there is no quick fix to whatever problems I have, so I just wish I could disappear from this world and go to another one.  I have never actually wanted to stop living and breathing.  I never really wanted to abandon my family and friends.  There have been times where I comtemplated what it might be like to swallow a bunch of pills or slit my wrists, but the thought that I might actually die always prevents me from doing it.  I cannot speak for what was going on in Kurt Cobain's head.  I cannot speak for what was going on in Bruce's head.  Life sucks and shit happens.  Bills have to be paid and jobs have to be done regardless of who ignored you as a child or gave you the bad touchies.  At some point you have to step off the soap box and live or life will go on without you. 

Speaking of which, I must get off the Vox box and meet my friend Danny.  He is stranded a bit west of here.

Last night, my friend Sara and I went to see Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers play at the United Center.  It was a rockin' show.  Tom Petty looked and sounded as good as ever, and he played most of my favorites.  I didn't get to hear every song I liked, but he'd still be playing now if he'd played all of them. 

Stevie Windood was the opening act.  He played a lot of songs from his Traffic days.  There were some tunes I didn't realize Traffic did that I have loved for years, like "I'm a man yes I am and I can't help but love you so."  I don't know the official name if the song, but I do like it. 

While I was walking to the United Center my right flop flop went out on me.  I had that pair of flip flops for abour four summers, and knew I should retire them eventually. I even thought for a minute about wearing a different pair to the concert.  It was rather embarassing to have to go to the first aid part of the United Center to mend my poor broken flip flop.  The paramedic said I'd be okay because I was wearing stylish blue toenail polish.  I guess a broken flip flop is better than a broken leg. 

Acceptance is the final stage of the greiving process. I am finally getting there when it comes to the loss of my former job, and the nice paycheck that came with it.  Last year at this time, I was very angry and blamed God and everyone for my ill fortune. For the past year, all I have been able to do is whine about how little money I have and how I can no longer afford to live a happy life. WAH WAH WAH!!!!!!!

The boss I had before I got that job used to tell me I was worth 8 dollars an hour, if even that.  Sometimes when I've made some bone headed error at my current job, I wonder if the real reason the company I'd been working for before closed down was because they chose to promote me and they paid me considerably more than eight dollars an hour.  Maybe karmically speaking I am only worth eight dollars an hour and my earning well over that was some monsterous error that caused the cosmos to shift.  Maybe that shift is the real cause for the earthquake in China, the cyclone in Myanmar and the floods in Iowa.  Now, I know that is NOT the case, but sometimes my minds goes there.

I have been out of therapy for a little over a month now.  I love having my whole Friday to myself, especially when that is the only day I have off during the week.  With the absence of shrinks, I have discovered that they were not the reason my life got better.  I went from being a suicidal wreck to a somewhat functional human being because I went from earning ten dollars an hour to earning six figures within two years. I got the strength to get out of a dysfunctional relationship with a drug gobbling freak because I was in an environment where people respected me, and this caused me to respect myself.    For the first time in my life, I tasted respect, I liked it and I don't like how I feel without it.

When it comes down to it, I don't miss the money half as much as I miss the self respect I had when I was making it.  Now that I am at a different job, where my performance is average, I am back where I was before therapy.  Three years of Fridays and thousands of dollars later, I am no more sane than I ever was.  If all of that therapy worked, I could respect myself regardless of the size of my paycheck. 

Speaking of these things, I have not received any calls from Mr. 4am in two weeks.  I am relieved and disappointed at the same time.  I miss our sordid liasons in a way, but deep down I knew the whole thing woudln't go beyond that the minute I saw that other woman's photo on his desk.  He gets to run off into the sunset with her and I get to nurse my severely wounded ego. I know, I know there are other guys out there, however right now, that sounds like more of a threat than a promise.  Life's not fair WAH WAH WAH!!!!!  What's a girl to do?

Hello.  I haven't been online in awhile, as the weather in Chicago has been too nice for me to be chained to my computer.  Chicago is really lovely in the summertime.  This year it has been better than ever since the temperatures have not been too hot.  Remember those old AT&T commercials where they said you could be connected from the beach?  If I had it like that, I'd be updating here every 5 minutes.

My birthday was two weeks ago, so I have spent a lot of time pondering about where my life is now and where I am headed.  This has been a bittersweet process. On the positive side, I have a TON of friends.  My birthday celebration dragged out from June 5 through the 19th with people buying be dinner, drinks and sending  birthday sentiments.  I received everything from cool handmade jewelry to poetry books to pillows.  I also found out that Smirnoff vanilla vodka is quite tasty when mixed with orange-pineapple juice.  I am lucky and grateful for all of my family and friends!

Now that the prolonged birthday party is over, the fact that I am a year older has sunk in. Nothing says birthday  hangover quite  like the grey hair in my left eyebrow.  The miniskirt I am wearing today is much shorter than most women my age would dare to wear, but I am rocking it anyway.  Why?  BECAUSE I CAN!!!!!  This is the my theme for this year. I am tired of so-called friends telling me how to dress, what perfume to wear, how to communicate with people and what to do then wondering why I have such low self esteem.  Through much trial and error, I have found that confidence is something you get when you live on your own terms.  Therefore I have been cleaning house and scaling down on interactions with any person or situation which causes me to second guess myself.  Most of the time this feels good.  They say the good thing about growing older is that you are more secure in yourself.  My goal is to get there before I get to deal with those other perks of age, like wrinkles, grey hair and varicose veins.

It's hot as Hell  in Chicago.  I love the summer here because there is so much to do.In fact, my friend JP is celebrating the 1 yr anniversary of the CCLAP (Chicago Center for Literature and Photography) website at Printer's Row, and I do want to get to that.  I almost forgot about it, and JP is always supportive about the goings on in my life.  In fact, he is the one who turned me on to Vox. 

Several months ago, I met this Ethiopian cab driver.  We went out on a date and he blew up my phone the entire next day.  On several occasions, he told me how much he missed me.  Once, he even told me he missed everything about me!  How can you miss everything about someone you have gone out with ONCE?  I told him he didn't even know everything about me so this was impossible.  Some ladies might find this endearing, but I think it is creepy.  Now, If we had been together for awhile and he actually knew me I might be flattered.  I went out with him the other night.  I just wanted to go on a date.  This isn't something I don't do often, so when he asked me out I said yes.  Then I remembered why avoided this man.  He was talking about marriage and babies.  I told him if he wanted babies he could go have them himself because I don't want any.  I tell myself I don't like the Ethiopian because of these things, but the God's honest truth is I just don't like him and really shouldn't have to justify it. He isn't a bad guy, I just don't want to be in a romantic and exclusive relationship with him.  Men never have to justify not being into us.  If a guy is "just not that into you" as the book says, you deserve every evil thing he does to you if you continue to associate with him  knowing that he isn't into you.  If my 4am caller has the right to continue to call me at 4am but not take me out in public because he is just not that into me, then I have the right to reject the Ethiopian, God damnit! 

Speaking of Mr 4am, last night I got piss drunk and kept telling myself and my friend Tiana I was in LOVE with this person.  How can I be in love with someone who doesn't  seem to even like me much, and sure as hell doesn't respect me?  I guess I am no more sane than the Ethiopian in that regard. Now that I am not drunk, I know better.  I am not in love with Mr 4am.  I just want to be in love with him.  If it's love, I can justify the fact that we hooked up in the wee hours on several occasions without feeling like a slut.  I want to be in love because it's summer and it seems like everyone is in LOVE during the summer. You see these lovers everywhere, holding hands, eating brunch together and kissing in public.  I want to be part of that.  I want flowers sent to my job on my birthday.  Since I have known him that way for a minute, he seems like a good candidate.  This is especially true when I have been drinking.    If Mr 4am is in love it is not with me.  He has a photo of a woman at his desk at work now.  If he is taking a summer stroll or having brunch, it is most likely with her.  By the way, I have not allowed him to visit in the wee hours for a month today.  I am proud of this! He has called.  In fact, I got 5 missed calls from him this week.  I have called him too, but to try to get him to meet me out for a drink at a semi respectable hour.

I am glad the Ethiopian was in my life.  The fact that I just don't like him helps me to come to terms with Mr  4am and put things in perspective.  I have gone back and forth, hating Mr 4am for being who he is and hating myself for allowing it but is anyone really at fault?  We had our sordid trysts, he decided that was what it was and nothing more, I want more that that at this point in my life, so the trysts ended.   If I really want LOVE for the sake of LOVE I guess I could always lower my standards (oops! I meant broaden my horizons) and settle for the Ethiopian but this is strictly against me new policy of living life on my terms. I will send myself flowers on my birthday and I will be OK.

You know, I wrote last time that I was not happy and confident because I let others make decisions for me.  actually, I let others make my decisions for me because I am not a confident happy person.  I got the cause and effect mixed up there.

WHO IS HERBAL STARKIST AND WHAT HAS SHE DONE WITH SPINSTERWOMAN???

Herbal Starkist is a character I would become during pretend games when I was 6 years old.  Although she has changed throughout the years, she is always that part of me that exists on my terms.  This is a change I have wanted to make on Vox, for awhile now, as it is something I am working toward in my life. 

Lately, I have been in a negative place. After some soul searching, I realized the problem is I don't live on my terms.  Last weekend, for example, I was shopping with a good freind  I picked out a dress to try on and asked her if she liked it.  When she said she didn't, I put it back on the hanger.  I allowed someone else to make a fashion decision for me.  The incident made me look at my life as a whole and realize, I let others drive the car that would be my life!  I allow others to decide what clothes I like, what I do for fun, what I do sexually, how I do my job, what I write, the list goes on for miles.  This has gone on for years, and it is why I am not a confident happy person. How am I supposed to be confident when I have deferred even minor decisions about my life to everyone but me?  How can I be healthy when I let others be responsible for my happiness?   You know, it took me awhile to learn to drive and when I finally got a licesne, I would allow others to drive my car for me rather than hear them bitch.  Those days are over, and I am taking over the driver's seat.  It's a scary feeling.  I  might run over a few wild animals or get into a fender bender or two, but it is must I have to do before I go crazy. 

Spinsterwoman is alive and well and living in my head.  My issues as an old maid in Chicago aren't going away any time soon.  I just feel at this time, living on my terms needs to be my main priority. 

Thank you for understanding.

It has something to do with sex.  That's what the lady who taught my Geology 105 course in college used to say.  This course was called "Lives of the Past", and it was about the biology of dinasaurs.  The quote is what my instructor used to say whenever some genetic trait of that dinasaur was there to help with the mating process.  I remember nothing else about this course, nor could I tell you why it was relevant to my degree plan, but this piece of information has stayed with me throughout the ages.

I have been up since 4:15 this morning.  Yes, almost exactly twelve hours ago, I received a booty call.  I chose not to pick up the phone, but I still couldn't get back to sleep.  Did I want the sex?  Hell yeah!  However, I was irritated with the person who called.  You see, the other night, I called to invite him to meet me out for a cocktail.  He said he had plans with a friend, but would call me later.  This was the first I'd heard from him since.  The night before, I was dressed cute.  I had a great hair day and I was showing off a fabulous pedicure.  He could've had me then, but NOOOOOOO!!!!!  He waited to call me at 4:15am when I was in my PJs and in my messy apartment. 

So, why was this person calling me at 4:15am?  Because I had allowed it in the past.  Yes, that's right.  I have needs just like anyone else.  Because I chose at that point to meet those needs with that person, I signed that invisible paper that means I have waived any right to demand respect from him.  The more things change the more they stay the same.  All the sexual revolution of the 1960s and '70's did was change the time frame for which it is okay for a girl to put out from marriage or engagement to the second or third date.  That line is still there and you still face consequences if it is crossed. Once you cross that line you are nothing more than a blow up doll who is there to pleasure him when he wants it, and sit on the shelf when he is otherwise occupied.  We've come a long way, baby!  My male friends all tell me they'd NEVER go on a second date with a girl who sleeps with them on the first. Certain female friends have scolded me for breaking "The Rules".  One of these friends once told me she screwed a married man in the bathroom in a bar we were at, but I guess that's okay if you wait till the second or third date.  I don't know where in the timeline of their fling this happened, but maybe he would've left his wife for her if she'd waited a bit longer. 

So why do I engage in this devient behavior when I am fully aware of the consequences?  It's a matter of mathemetics.  You see, most of these friends who scold me range anywhere from a 7 to a 9 on the 1-10 scale.  I am probably a 5 or 6.  These women probably meet 10 potential suitors a week.  By potential suitor, I don't just mean someone who flirts with them, or gives them eye contact, I mean someone who they'd actually want to hook up with that does these things.  When you have that many potential opportunities, it's easier to play the game by "The Rules".  I meet maybe one of these potential suitors every six months. When this happens, I get caught up in the moment, and "The Rules" go out the window. BAD KATE!!!!!  I must remind myself of this experince, so I do not break "The Rules" ever again.  Maybe I should find a blackboard somewhere and write "I WILL NOT BREAK THE RULES OF COURTSHIP" 200 times.  This tactic never stopped me from talking in class when I was in elementary school, but it could work now.

Sometimes what we need to know is not what we want to hear.  This latest experience shows me it is too late to salvage anything with that person.  I broke "The Rules" and he put me in the bad girl box.  It's a shame for him.  I may be a bad girl, but I'm a damn good woman. 

1-2: my beautiful niece, Rylie

3 My great neice Kierra Jayne

4- My nephew, Aaron, his girlfriend Carisa and Keirra

5 My freind Jane.  We met during my three hour layover in Denver on my way home from Nebraska