The Giving Tree

I've been in the mood to buy something for awhile. You can imagine the pain a shop-a-holic like me is in as I receive a steady paycheck each week but refuse to allow myself to spend it on anything but my credit card or gas. The rest gets tossed into my savings account as I attempt a new concept called "Saving Money". I realize I will feel better about this in April when I pay first and last month's rent plus a security deposit on a NYC apartment. However, right now, it feels like hell.

I have been working steadily for a month and have barely saved anything. We can thank my credit card and my $493 car repairs. That's right folks. $493. It kills me too because I've been eyeing this Vera Bradley bag for quite awhile though I'm still up in the air as to what pattern I want it in.

I told my mother this and she suggested giving the money to the needy. I told her that at 21 almost 22, I cannot toss away money to the church but in a few years, when I am stable, I will do it regularly. She says you are not supposed to give when you can, you are supposed to give until it hurts AND if I had been reading my Scripture, I would know that God promises to take care of me IF I give 10%. (Apparently, God's love is indeed conditional.) I told her I donated to the tsunami relief effort. (It was a measly contribution but it was the best I could do at the time.) She said the Vera bag is not giving til it hurts. The Vera bag makes me spoiled.

I pointed out that I donate clothes and shoes regularly and I have a large garbage bag of relatively new stuffed animals that I'm looking to drop off somewhere. She said nobody wants my dusty old paraphernalia. Does anyone know of anywhere I CAN donate my animals? They are NOT dusty, they are just on the foot of my bed and I would like to give them to children who would appreciate them. Mom says this is NOT giving til it hurts--it is getting rid of old junk.

The Catholic guilt got the better of me and about a 1/2 hour ago, I logged onto the Broadway Cares/Equity Fights Aids website and donated $50. I called my mother to let her know and she said that this was NOT the kind of organization she was talking about. I said that I did not want to give my money to the Catholic Church and I think she was a little upset. She told me the Catholic Church gives to more charities than ANYONE ELSE. Is this true? I need proof.

I don't mind giving money to the Catholic Church so they can pass it on to other places. I DO mind giving money to things like the "Bishop's Annual Appeal" which is, for my lovely non-Catholic friends, a yearly beg from the Bishop for funds. Puh-lease. I do not support the Bishop and I do not support his begging. I figured AIDS was a worthy cause, specifically BC/EFA.

My mother ended the conversation by telling me that $20 would have sufficed and I didn't have to give $50. "10%!!!!!" I screamed into the phone, "YOU TOLD ME 10%!!!!! $20 IS NOT 10% OF MY SALARY, IS IT MOM???" She replied that no, it wasn't and that the $50 was probably the better choice and then hung up the phone.

AND YOU WONDER WHY I'M SO SCREWED UP ABOUT LIFE!?????????????????

Peace.

Surprise!

Does this freak ANYONE else out COMPLETELY!????

"Because of you, I try my hardest to forget everything. Because of you, I don't know how to let anyone else in. Because of you, I am afraid."

I am so sick right now that I can barely keep my eyes open to write this. I can't breathe out of my nose nor can I stand up for fear that my head will fall off my shoulders. I am hot and then I'm cold and then I'm nauseous and achey. My glands are swollen and I have to blow my nose every 90 seconds.

I started feeling a little run-down on Thursday morning and today, Sunday, it is full-blown all out illness. It seems that I began to develop something serious late in the night on Wednesday. I can make a correlation here because on Wednesday, when I was in New York City, my ex-boyfriend made me walk over eight avenues in 13 degree weather in stockings and heels to meet him in a diner so that he could tell me that I have ruined his life over the past four years.

I figured that he had chosen this diner as a mid-way point between us though I couldn't fathom how far he had actually come to get here. Eight avenues is certainly a hell of a long walk and in the frigid weather, I assumed that he at least had taken a cab which was a luxury I couldn't afford. Shivering with cold and unable to feel my legs, I slid into the booth across from him to ask him how many blocks he had walked/rode to meet me.

"Oh, I work across the street," he replied, pointing to a building in plain sight.

Eight avenues. Thirteen degrees. I was in a skirt. And heels.

He walked across the street.

It was then and there that I should have gathered up what remained of my pride and quietly exited the diner. But I didn't. I sat for well over 90 minutes, listening to him talk about how I had messed up his life and caused him great pain. He declared after the fact that he felt "much better" about revealing his torment to me. I cannot begin to describe how I felt, after being lectured on a relationship that ended nearly four years ago. I can tell you that I would not have chose the words "much better".

I missed the planned train home and was only able to grab one that left the station at 9:16 pm. The conductor was having problems and the train was delayed, causing the arrival time to be pushed to 11:00. I walked half a mile to my car, which was covered in 5 inches of snow. I drove the twenty minutes home, made myself a bowl of cereal and collapsed into bed at midnight.

One might ask themselves why on earth they put themselves through such hell. To tell you the truth, I don't know. This is why I write. I have no answers. I just know that no matter what is told to me by this person, no matter how many blocks I walk, no matter how sick I become, he is forgiven. As soon as I lay eyes on him, he has never hurt me. How easily eight avenues of walking slip into the back of my mind. The words "selfish" "egotistical" "cold" and "b**ch" that escaped his lips so easily are temporarily forgotten. I sit. I listen. I respond amicably.

Why?

Is there always that one person that can do no wrong to you? Do you forgive as easily as I do? Certainly, I don't forgive or forget with other people as quickly. Why him? Will he always be there, able to get to me when no one else can? I wonder this as I realize that the more I think about it, the more angry I become.

I'm sick. I'm tired. I went out of my way to talk to him after he called me words that stung me to the core. I am so incredibly close to resigning myself to the fact that I will forever be tripped and snared and caught by this man. I've just about given in to the fact that there will always be the part of me that will pick up the phone when he chooses to call and meet him hundreds of yards away from where I happen to be.

Is it abusive? Is it self-inflicted pain? Does it make me weak? Will it ever stop?

No answers to be had. My head and heart hurt too much to find any. For now, I have to shrug, blow my nose and cling tight to the fact that one day I will find someone who will always meet me half way.

Peace.

But things just get so crazy, living life gets hard to do. Sunday morning, rain is falling and I'm calling out to you...

You can't believe the joy I felt when I was hired right out of college to make nice money to save up for a NYC apartment. Imagine how much joy I feel now, after spending $400 in car repairs. This is surely the best way to save money: make sure your car parts keep breaking. Yes, oh yes.

Updates on the new job:

A co-worker has told me that he feeds the squirrels in his backyard in order to fatten them up so that he can go home and eat them for dinner. "How do you catch a squirrel?" I question him. He laughs as if I am the idiot here. "Oh you don't CATCH them. You SHOOT them!" "BAM!!!" he screams and mocks using a rifle. "Oh," I reply, "I didn't realize people still used such...primitive means to hunt and gather their evening meal."

Another co-worker is trying to help me find Jesus. He regularly dishes out pamphlets and promises to lend me some CD's soon. "Not music," he says quietly, "serious things." I also have a lovely card with a Christian radio station on it and a quote from Psalm 55. I'm not averse to receiving such things. He does it in a very quiet kind way and always asks me if I'm interested in what he has to offer. This makes me respect him because I do not feel pressured into repenting or anything like that. Sometimes, I even believe God is working through him, attempting to get me back on my spiritual track. Other times, I think God is just laughing hysterically....perhaps at the Squirrel Man?

Awkard Office Moment #327: seeing one of the Very Important Men come out of the Men's Bathroom, office memos and engineering diagrams in hand. "Hey Laura!" he says, as I walk past him. My God. What is it about men and reading material in the bathroom? And even if I don't understand it, why don't you keep it in the privacy of your own home? Must you really read in the bathroom at WORK!??!?!

I don't know about you, but when I need to use the restroom, I want to get in and out as fast as humanly possible. I do recall being put on the toilet as a young child and left to sit there until I had completed my business. Perhaps Berenstein Bear books were in order but I was LITTLE, four or five. I WAS NOT MIDDLE-AGED NOR WAS I IN AN OFFICE ENVIRONMENT! What was he THINKING? Was he just trying to multi-task? I can't imagine that he was so pressed for time that he HAD to take work into the bathroom with him. And how much can he really accomplish? How long does that REALLY take?

Other than uncomfortable moments such as these and counting down the hours until my lunch break (1.89) my life as a working single woman is going okay. I long to get back into some kind of theatre. I was fortunate enough to catch the May performance of "Candide" with Patti Lupone and Kristin Chenoweth which was broadcast last night on PBS. I laughed my head off and then cried because it was just so amazing and while it gets stuck in my head ALL THE TIME, Leonard Bernstein's score for the most part is just beautiful.

I vow to get my life in order and to stop fixing my stupid car. Money must enter directly into my savings account and stay there. I may look into getting a part-time job on weekends, though I don't know who will hire me. We will see! The loveliest part of my life right now is that anything can happen. While that is very scary, there is something delicious about it and my heavy heart soars a little bit each morning when I wake up and wonder, "What tiny blessing will touch me today?" And for the record, you can bet your bottom dollar that it ain't bathroom reading material.

Peace.