Thursday, April 30, 2009

If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all...

I guess that was this month for me. I promised not to be doom and gloom and ended up not writing anything at all...

On the plus side another month is over. I've applied for 17 new jobs-one in which I actually knew someone who knew someone and sent my resume off to corporate.

I've gotten a handful of rejections from agents-well, truthfully two handfuls and I've sent out a handful more queries.

I somehow missed the deadline for early application for the Master's program- even though I sent all my stuff in- heard from all my rec letter people that they sent their stuff in weeks before deadline AND I sent a follow up e-mail asking if anything was missing days before deadline... deadline came and went and the college sent me a letter to let me know they did not have one of my rec letters. I called. The letter was sent March 29. They couldn't find it. I faxed a new copy...and now I wait for the next deadline to see if I'm accepted... semester starts in June. Second acceptance deadline is May probably January. If at all.

I'm still "undivorced" as that has to wait until I can support myself and have health insurance.

Oh, and we are still getting four or five calls a week looking for escorts or ladies looking for work. Crazy.

Meantime, I'm warm and dry and fed. So, no complaints. Here's hoping for more blogs in May.

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Making an effort

In an effort not to be so filled with doom or gloom, I am posting positive things this month.

I have applied for a Master's degree program. It is a two year course that works around full time employment. Early admission deadline is April 21st. I think I have everything sent in. I'm waiting on the last of my recommendation letters. And most importantly the financial aid.

In the meantime I have applied for three jobs this month.

I had coffee with an aspiring writer who told me I was a beautiful woman. Which was nice- embarrassing-but nice. I thanked him and asked him to tell me more about what he writes.

I am so far from being ready to think about dating, etc. But I have finally understood that while I will always love him, I am no longer in love with the man I am married to. Acceptance is the last stage in grief. I'm there. Finally.

Friday, March 27, 2009


I notice all my posts this month are filled with gloom, doom and despair. Sheesh- I'm as bad as the media.

Interestingly enough we have started getting calls again for the escort service. I had a young woman leave a message that went on and on about what a good worker she was, how she was 30 but could pass for 25, a full description and-love this tip- how she knew how to work a credit card machine so they wouldn't have to pay in cash. Crazy.

We've also gotten "customer service" calls from people claiming to be yellow page reps-from their cell phones- wanting to know if we're happy with the ad. Is it for real? Wouldn't they call from the company phones? I don't know-if so, that guy is losing money by not calling the companies and fixing the snafu. If not- then he's still lurking trying to get us to give up the number...

Odd, isn't it?

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

gloom despair

I am not posting like I should. There are no interview stories this year. No interviews since November. Oh, join a group, they say. Go out be with other people looking for jobs-groups forming everywhere. Blah- I'm not a joiner.

I've been battling deep despair- It's hard work to get up in the morning- to shower- to go see friends-I wondering what I'm doing here-I have no raised-can't get my stories published- can't find work-and yet- here I am- breathing, eating, taking up space... Doing my damnedest to be cheerful and entertaining on line-promote my books- cheer on other writers and friends. Meanwhile inside I'm bawling- always bawling- grief despair...sigh.

So, I gave myself purpose- wrote an entire 55,000 word book in three weeks to see if I could- judged a contest-now what?

I've decided to get my Master's degree- but reading the requirements- all lofty, wordy, high falutin' silliness...I have decided on the MA program at Seton Hill-An MA in Writing Popular Fiction. Which is what I do- where my gift lies. So with much worry and fear that I'm making yet another mistake, I am moving through the hoops necessary to apply- application filled out-check-request for letters of recommendation sent out-check-transcripts ordered-check...I still need to write my letter of intent, add a writing sample, fill out the financial aid forms-then wait...

Wait to see if I'm accepted. Wait to see if I can get enough money to pay for this adventure.

Meanwhile I am rewriting parts of an old book, querying agents on a thriller I wrote, applying for jobs, and battling the despair and grief that chokes me every moment of every day. And I dream... I dream of having worth, purpose, value. I dream of the day I'll be a real person-a real writer with a real job and perhaps a real love...

Wednesday, March 18, 2009


Yep- still stalled. It's March 18th and so far I've applied for 11 jobs that most closely match my qualifications. There are others that I could do-but last year's interviews taught me that in this economy there are always other people with actual experience in the field who will get the job first. So, I tend to stick to applying for what I do...

To save my mental health I am looking at going back to school. Why does this save my mental health? It gives me something to do while I job hunt. It teaches me new skills. Takes me in new directions.

Right now I'm looking into two very different paths- 1) I am considering a Masters in counseling with the thought that I would like to counsel women in the position I and my friends find ourselves-hormonal changes and life changes at midlife. No one really tells you how to cope and doctors all seem to shrug or pat us on the head and say this too will pass. But it is shocking to wake up one day unable to do what you did before. Now you have to take care of the "old" woman you're living inside or she will go mad- things like, rest more, eat better, exercise more, calm down more, etc. It's a pain.

2) My second thought is- maybe I should be who I am- a writer. So I'm also looking into MFA and MA programs in creative writing. The goal there would be to teach at the junior college level and continue my writing career. Perhaps even build up a speaking workshop sideline for writing groups and other organizations. Must be careful though- I've heard a few people say that nothing ruins a good story telling voice like an MFA program... also- I'm not really into experimental fiction...

Question is- which direction do I go in? How do I pay for it?

I'm making a list of pros and cons. I'll let you know what happens. Meanwhile, I apply for jobs.

Friday, March 6, 2009

bits and oddness

Couple, two or three things...

1) Headlines this morning scream unemployment hasn't been this low since 1983...good news is I got a job that year.

2) I don't know if you believe in psychic abilities or not... but I was in the middle of a loud dream when I heard my son's voice say - "Someone come help me." Then again-this time, pissed off as if he'd been hollering for some time and no one was listening. "Someone come help me!" Since he wasn't in my dream and his voice was not part of the dream- I woke up. Looked at the clock. It was 4:30 a.m. My son lives 600 miles away. He works nights- sleeps in his car for two hours between was time for him to be in his car- so I got up and called him. At first he didn't answer-which, I'm not going to lie made me a bit nervous-but then he called before I could dial again. Seems he wasn't at work- his car had blown a second tire the day before and now sat on the side of the highway- he'd gotten a replacement tire only to discover that someone had thrown a rock through his back window shattering his back windshield. He was pissed and pacing-But safe! Thank God. Strange what connections we humans have.


3) My daughter asked me what GOP stood for- why do they call the Republicans GOP but the Democrats Dems? Huh. I didn't know. So we hit Wikipedia... Here's the answer- The Republican party was the party of Lincoln- they were an "upstart" party (fairly new) and full of their victory. So, sarcastically were called the "Grand OLD Party" Shortened to GOP. "So," my daughter concludes. "You have a who bunch of people proudly calling themselves something that started off as making fun of them? Wow- kind of like Yankee Doodle- I cringe whenever they teach little kids to be proud to sing Yankee Doodle. Don't they know it was the Brits making fun of us-yet there we go... pretending like that's a good thing. Huh, sounds like the jokes on them." Snort. Hmmm, sarcasm gets lost in history I guess...

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Doom and Gloom

I've been writing posts in my head and somehow they don't quite make it to this blog. Huh. The news is stuck in this sort of gleeful, hand wringing. Telling tales of more doom and gloom. Look here- a purchasing manager can't find work and is applying to be a life guard. He says if that doesn't work he's also applied to be a parking attendant. Bwahahah- see how bad. People with multiple degrees are reduced to finding jobs usually reserved for teens...millions out of work. Millions more to come.

The stock market will never recover-wring hands-oh, no... the new president's policies are too radical- we're all doomed! Sheesh-(Give them time people. It hasn't even been two months.) I remember just three years ago when they were reporting breathlessly how unusually high the market was- how they were sure it would crash at any second. But wait! No it's going up and up!! Record levels...Breathless-waiting for the dooom! Does that crap really sell papers? This is why I turned my back on journalism and went into marketing. I was never one for whispering gossip and making it as juicy and breathless as possible. Reminds me of gossiping old ladies.

They keep saying- the world has changed-forever! Hello- it's no different for those of us who never spent $20 a day on Starbucks. Who didn't keep trading up to bigger and bigger McMansions. Who paid out bills. Didn't live on credit. Grow our own fresh veggies. Recycle. I never had a lot in the stock market- couldn't afford to save that way. I never bought designer duds-never jumped in with the supposed "rest of the world" and competed with labels and vacations. Etc. We always paid our bills. Rented movies. Had a 15 year old television. A 5 year old phone. We always used things until they dropped.

And yet, my life wasn't that doom and gloom. Sure, it's tough out there. I'm not going to lie. I have applied for 50 jobs so far this year with five rejections and no phone calls...none. (I think they fired a lot of the recruiters...) But you know- there are still ads in the paper. People are hiring. It's still a matter finding a fit. So in the face of hand wringing journalists, I stand up and keep going. Sooner or later- things will get better. They always do.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009


I know, I've been missing in action here. Why? Well, have you listened to the news? Millions out of work- salaries being cut 47 percent across the board-major banks failing- stocks worthless-companies folding left and right...

With news like that , who's going to hire?

To be fair, I have applied for seven jobs since I last wrote-two have been filled already.

People not job hunting give the following advice-"Take anything. You can do better later."

Yeah, right. I've heard that before. In my experience if you take a lesser job-your next employer wants to know why- then looks at you askew and says you didn't make enough or you didn't supervise enough in your last job. They tell you "I have someone else here more"Qualified" because they supervised two more people in their last job- or they made over $100,000 in their last job- meanwhile you were working at McDonald's or you settled for $30,000."

If you settle now, you settle for the next ten years-which is fine if you're twenty or even thirty- not if you're forty.

But no- I tell myself- in this economy you have to settle- you have to to get out of the house and get on with your life- So, I apply for the Specialist job instead of the Director job...and guess what? At my interview they say, "You are over qualified. You will be bored. You won't stay." They wave me on and hire the 20 year old they were looking for.

There is no "Right" answer. So, if you're wondering what I'm doing- searching the job boards- sending out resumes- the same thing I was doing this time last year- only I had higher expectations then.

Sunday, February 15, 2009


Turns out my personality type is ENFJ- and I'm happiest being in PR (okay, done that applying for those jobs now); HR (applied but not hired); Counseling (Would have to go back to school), teaching (oh, no, no, no) etc. Okay, so I'm only 1/3 of the way through the book- still searching for secrets that will land me a great job with good pay and benefits.

They said something about the arts- and communicating... two things I do and love. So, maybe my job hunt hasn't been that far off base.

Here's hoping for a new week filled with possibilities.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Blah, de blah, blah, blah

No new posts. Nothing much new to talk about. The porn guy seems to have gone away. Yes!

I am revising a book and battling internal demons. I've applied for five jobs so far this week. No calls. I'm reading a self help book on picking the right job for your personality...

It's mid February and all the Valentine's crap is in my face. I made a Freudian slip and called it Halloween-I guess they are both scary holidays involving candy. Not that I'm opposed to eating chocolate... anyway. That's my update. Thanks for checking in.

Sunday, February 8, 2009

He's just not that into...

Went to the movie "He's just not that into you" today. I enjoyed it. That said, it's hard for me to watch romance. I'm too cynical these days. I'm wishing I had the wherewithal to throw the man out or leave like the gal in the movie did with her idiot husband.

As Meg Ryan did in "The Women."

I don't. I have to wait. I refuse to move in with my parents and well, I've got this pride thing where I can't bring myself to impose on friends. I feel stupid enough when we get together and all I do is cry. Better to feel sorry for myself here...

Did taxes last night. Discovered I've had 10 face to face interviews last year. None- not a single one- got me a second interview. I've been to interview coaching. I've cut my hair three different ways. I've tried three different "looks"- banker professional, suited creative and outfit creative. I've tried two different portfolios- changed out the pieces inside the portfolio.

So, I tell myself, it's just tough out there. But I finally know that I am ready to move on... really ready. Maybe this week something will come up. A girl can hope...

Saturday, February 7, 2009

Wear a chicken suit

This is my life- the last time I needed a full time job with benefits-(I had gotten out of the military, had a tiny baby and my husband enrolled in college-yes, I know, stupid... I supported him through college-Any whooo...)

The last time I needed a full time job-badly- the economy tanked. There was a recession and I had recruiters tell me to go back to the Air Force. No one wanted to hire a female electronics tech- I might have a baby and who would they get to cover my maternity leave? and I quote, "We can't just go out and get a kelly girl to cover like we can with the office girls." I gave them a raspberry and took the first job offered, which turned out to be a nasty bit of business where my boss hired me to sit in his office and pay him attention.

I swore I would not be that desperate this time... It's been fourteen months. Over that time the economy has truly tanked... Millions of jobs lost. People now stand in line for days for job fairs. Seriously they had them camping out in Florida. There was a picture of a teacher's fair and of a teacher wearing a chicken suit. They said he got good reactions- people remembered him.

The Careerbuilder advises-to rework the resume- I do that for each job, tailoring it to the ad. Then they say-call, squeaky wheel gets the grease, etc. Meanwhile the ads all have in big bold type-"DO NOT CALL US- WE'LL CALL YOU." or "Due to the high volume of applications, we'll ocntact you only if you're a fit."

They advise to try other industries- I've applied for everything from photographer to editor to press manager to marketing exec to public information manager for a library. No calls. No calls since the disaster in November where I drove a thousand miles for an interview that garnered me an invitation to lunch....sigh.

I look out my window and a small voice asks- what will you do if you're still sitting here this time next year? Guess I'll buy a chicken suit.

Friday, February 6, 2009

The "Middle" Age

A few years ago when my husband was transferred to a city a thousand miles away, I thought, fabulous! It was the perfect time to quit my day job and concentrate on writing. I was under contract for seven was the start of a solid career. Right?

Um, no.The seven books netted me a total of $14,000. I was unable to take the next step and sell into the midlevel market. And I found myself in a new town with no friends.

What is worse is I discovered I was always the odd man out. You have the stay at home moms with little kids. They gather in groups and talk about diapers and nursing and conferences and class parties, etc. My kids were in the final years of school. So, we had nothing in common.

The only other people about are the"grey hairs." People my parents age who retired early. They take trips to see their grand children. Vacation in their time shares and talk about their bunion surgery.

Lucky for me my daughter shares many of my interests. She goes with me to afternoon movies where we are the only two under the age of 60. When we go for a day at the mall...again, we stick out like a sore thumb-neither the mommy set doing stroller aerobics nor the senior set mall walking their way across America.

Where are the people my age? They are at work.

Great. My life implodes and I begin to do the serious job search. What do I discover? I'm too old. I have too much experience. I'm stuck in that funny place between Mommy and retirement. All I can do is wait...and sometimes dance in the isles with the grey hairs...

Tuesday, January 27, 2009


Ventured out to the mall yesterday in a fit of cabin fever. Just browsing through the stores when this friendly sales woman came up and asked me if I had heard of their new product-"Smiley"- complete with white and yellow packaging.

"It's great!' She gushed. "Can I spray some on you?"
"No, thanks I'm already wearing perfume."
"Oh, it's okay it works with your perfume and changes it slightly." Smile. "It's what they call a psycho-perfume. It has pheromones that make you happy and those around you happy." She gushed on about how it calms her boyfriend and how he loves it and makes him want to sit near her-she leans into me to demonstrate all aglow. "It will calm your coworkers and make everyone around you happy."
"I'll try it," my daughter pipes up. She gets a squirt.
"Lovely, isn't it?" Sales woman holds out her arm to me. I sniff. It's okay...kind of lemony. "It smells different on everyone. what you smell on me is not what it will smell like on you or her." Points to daughter.
Curious I give in. "Okay, spray my wrist." Sales woman happy to oblige squirts. I blink.
"All this and it's only $42."
At which point I smile back. "Sounds like a lot of happiness for a little dough. We'll think about it." I grab my daughter and steer her out of store.

Two stores beyond and my daughter is pouting and grumpy.
"What is it?"
"This perfume is making me crazy and grumpy!" she declares.
I note that it does seem to be getting stronger with each passing moment. "We'll go wash it off."
Arrive in restroom to discover "Smiley" has turned my wrist if I've brushed up against a giant ink well. Yikes! (Seems I am allergic to happiness.)

I scrub with soap and water-the black comes off but the scent lingers. I sigh. "I can still smell it."
My daughter sniffs her arm and makes a face. "Oh, me, too!"
"Wow, she did say it doesn't go away like other perfumes. Guess we have to tough it out." we both have grumpy faces.

The scent is gone now, thank God. So much for mall therapy. You know- it might make some people happy but it appears I'm not the "smiley" kind.

Friday, January 23, 2009


I have the best friends... seriously. If you find yourself a crazy girl in a crazy world, do yourself a favor and find some great friends.

They not only support you, but give you the best advice. I'll pass on one such piece of advice I heard today- things in life are not depressing...they are interesting... :)

I like that...interesting. It makes it sound...well, better. So I have decided that from now on my life is interesting. No matter what happens. The very idea makes me smile.

I shall not go softly into the night-no, I'll put on a bright yellow top hat and tap shoes and dance loudly into the night. At the very least it will be interesting.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

An American Idiot

So- the job at my old home town has been filled...which I knew the day the guy e-mailed me and asked me to lunch, but which well meaning friends tried to turn into a request for a second interview.

I am looking through job boards- feeling like an idiot. I put my whole life into creating a family-even though I know kids leave- I fearlessly thought what I built with my husband would last-I stupidly did not pursue a Master's degree-thinking that if I worked hard enough at writing fiction and getting published I could make a career of that... idiot...

Kind of like watching the kids on American Idol who can't carry a tune in a bucket pouring their whole lives into a dream. Where was Simon Cowl (SIC?) when I started writing? Someone, anyone to smack me up side the head and tell me to go get an MBA...

Only, like those kids don't listen to Simon, I doubt I would have either- I mean, I didn't listen to the naysayers... I simple knew that if only I tried a little the kids who burst out into a second song to prove that they can in fact sing, but only show how far they have to go...I would make it. We are all American Idiots.

As for me- am currently mailing off yet another book proposal-while debating if I can even get into Grad school-if so, where- and at what cost...then wondering if anyone would hire a woman approaching 50 straight out of grad school...odds are better that I'll hit the Best Seller lists.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009


Yesterday was my 24th wedding mention was made of it.

Sad- I can't even divorce a guy right.

Today, I'm back to searching the job boards- knowing full well everyone else is glued to the television.

Sunday, January 18, 2009

Going to the Mattresses...

Okay- I will admit that I am scared-and upset- so, I want to fight, fight fight. All I can do is bounce around like Meg Ryan in "You've Got Mail" and punch the air.

This guy threatened to go to the newspapers and tell them we are the ones running the business from our home- so my wise-ass mind starts writing headlines:

"Desperate housewife runs escort service from cul de sac."

"Romance writer does more then pen porn."

"Novelist learns no money in writing, turns to more lucrative business."

"From Romance Author to Madame in two easy steps."

"Downturn in economy causes more "home-based" businesses to thrive."

I could go on...but I won't. We got more calls last night. The guy had an Indian accent. Now, why does that seem funny to me? Does it seem funny to you? Ok, seriously, try to imagine a man with an Indian accent soliciting sex... all I can do is chuckle...

Have decided to change the message on my answering machine. Am thinking about the following:

Beep- "You have reached a private residence with caller ID. Please note that all calls and phone numbers are being recorded and may be used as evidence in an on-going police investigation. Please leave your name and address at the beep. A friendly officer will be happy to get in touch with you."

What do you think?

Saturday, January 17, 2009

Oh, now funny awful has turned creepy awful

So, I inform my friends and family about the situation with the "escort service" and my phone number.

Most agree-it's so awful, it's funny. Most say, "get a lawyer and get some big bucks from this guy and the phone company."

Others worry- it's a phone scam- like identity theft- I'm told to call the FBI Crime Task force ASAP.... Hmmm- I don't think this is a scam- what is the pay off? This guy gave me his name, his business and his phone number.

Still to be safe, we call the Phone company- they deny everything-(Which they would since they don't want a law suit.) We put a lock on our account. I google the porn guy's company-it pops up on a yellow pages listing...hmmm. I google the guy- yikes! He pops up in newspaper articles as having been convicted by the Feds in Denver in 2000-plead guilty for racketeering and running an escort service out of Toronto for cities such as Denver, Chicago, and New York.

We call the local FBI-what do they say? *shrug* "No laws have been broken. Get a lawyer and try to get ten grand out of the guy."

OKAAAAAY- porn guy sends us an e-mailed contract to sign where he will pay our phone bill for six months if we give him all the rights to our phone number. Guy calls and leaves message-we don't want to talk to him. He calls at midnight and 2 am. We send back an e-mail telling him we'll have our lawyers look it over and get back to him.

Things heat up-more calls come in-we screen calls-get two requests for escorts-one guy says he wants our address so he can pick the girl up... suspiciously shortly after-porn guy calls-leaves message-calmly tells us that his Internet ad is up already-displayed Prominently on google-is our address along with our phone number- if we don't act soon people will be coming by the house.

We are told by friends-this is a phone scam- don't rely on phone company's customer service- call the fraud line. We call fraud line-Get This...

Nice guy named Chad answers- his is shocked by my story- he says- call the cops! "Wait!" I say after waiting 5 minutes on line to get Chad. "I was told by friends you could help me." He has never heard of such a story- he says it sounds like something out of a thriller-

Yeah- I'm a writer, I telll him but I'm not making this up. Can he help me? He consults with his bosses- he comes back- we all agree you need to call the cops.

"Can't you put a block on this guy's calls?"
"Yeah, but not the rest of the calls...and we can't block anything until you have a police case file number."

"Really," he says. "If I could I would go punch this guy in the face-but there is nothing I can do. You need to call the cops."

"So, this is not a phone scam."
"Not one anyone hear has heard of-"
"but you're the fraud department."
"I usually deal with calls like, how come my bill is so high this month..."
Poor nice Chad wishes me luck -and wishes he could find out what happens next...and tells me to write the book so he can read the ending...

Convinced this is real- despite the Feds nonchalance-I call the cops. My daughter is wigged out by the idea of creepy men driving by our house looking for sex.

Local cop comes to take our story- nice guy- calm...he has a gun and a bullet proof vest-yeah, I'd be calm, too...He takes all the info- he agrees -this is not a scam. This is a real bad guy with a mixed up number-who is losing business every day we don't comply with his wishes. Cop says with grin-"Let them come to your house. We want them to come to your house. So we can show up and ask them what they are doing..."

Then he tells us what everyone else has told us- get a lawyer and sue this guy for ten grand. In the meantime, tell neighbors- and don't be afraid to call 911 should any stranger show up at the house.

So-once my soon-to-be ex husband is home-we plug phone back in - guy calls. H tells him that things have changed- we've been getting calls- as he told us people will be coming by- this is a bigger hastle than he let on initially-our lawyer says we need more money. Porn guy blows up!!! Cursing ensues-threats are made:

"I will make your life a living hell. I will inform everyone at your work, your wife's work, your kids work that your number is for an escort service..." To which we answer with a laugh-hell, we've already told everyone.

"I will call the cops and tell them you are running a prostitution ring out of your home." We laugh-but don't' tell him we already told the cops.

"He claims he is Italian and knows people who can come by and hurt us."

"He tells H to think about what our daughter will think when a guy shows up at the door asking her to suck his...." H laughs-daughter will kick said guy's ass- after she calls 911 of course.

"What do we want?" "Ten grand." Guy screams we are shaking him down. We aren't people of our word-"What?" we say, "You told us to check with our lawyer-we did. He said ten grand." cursing and more threats ensue. He tells us -he didn't do this the phone company did- we tell him to send us proof the phone company did and we'll gladly go to the phone company about pain and suffering. He curses and throws out phony contract numbers but refuses to send us copies of the actual paperwork...

Sounds like he messed up- not them. Either way- we didn't make this mess-if he wants our number he will have to pay us. Yikes! He goes bananas-

I hang up phone. We call nice cop. We report threats- cop takes it all in stride-says we are right this guy has done 21 months in the clinker for this stuff- Cop has contact in FBI and he lets us know people are getting involved. Meanwhile guy keeps calling back. We simply unplug phone. We have cell phones-land line can go to message.

So- don't call my landline-I won't answer.

Later H checked messages- says guy has calmed down-seems porn guy has addressed me-(Can you hear the snaky slither?) He is nice guy-explaining to sweet wife that H has not fully told me what will happen if we don't comply-how my "sexy little voice" on the answering machine will only draw more calls and unsavory people to the house...

Later we get e-mail from guy-threatening that if we don't sign within 24 hours we will lose any chance of being compensated- as he will work something out with phone company. Good we think- if he gets phone comany to compensate him-all the better for us...

Get up this morning-plug phone in to check messages- more calls for escorts-and a call from a woman looking for work...

Now-I believe this guy is having his friends and employees call to strong arm us. He claims we will come crawling back to him in a week begging him to take our number. What? Stupid. We don't need his money. We don't need our land line. We have cell phones. We have cops.

We have also decided that we will keep the number for a few weeks-as it's his business that's being harmed not us. We'll simply unplug phone and check messages twice a day.

Creepy yes- ickie-yep- kind of like finding a rat in your house. I'll keep you posted. Oh, and Yeah-and I'm taking notes for the true crime story I'm going to write... do you think Oprah will want to interview me?

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Help, I've become trapped in a badly written sitcom

okay- seriously...

Was woken up at 3 a.m. by a phone call-from Arizona. I don't know anyone from Arizona. So I let it go to voice mail where any idiot will see from the answer machine that they got the wrong number. Nope. Two minutes later the phone rings again. I answer it- "Hello?" A pause then a man asks, "Is this xxx-xxx-xxxx?"
Another pause as if he can't understand that I'm not who he thought. So, I say, "It's 3 a.m. here."
"Oh, sorry, I have the wrong number." He hangs up.

Whatever- I go back to bed- then the phone rings again at 4:30 a.m. - this time- "Hello?" No answer. "Hello?" No answer. "Hello!" Hang up.

By this time the entire household is up for the morning. Grumpy. Let dogs out. Make coffee.

I finally give in to take a nap at 1 p.m. when the damn phone rings- again with Arizona. I let it go to message.

They call back twice at 5 p.m. This time they leave a message.

It seems that a world wide entertainment company- as in adult escort service - was erroneously assigned my phone number for their company. Last night's calls were their beta tests before they go live. My number has been published in 7,000 publications world wide. They warn I may be getting as many at 3,000 to 5,000 calls a day. What do they want? They want me to change my number so they don't have to lose the hundred thousand or so they spent on publications-and so that I don't get "unsavory" calls the rest of my life. In exchange they'll pay my phone bill for six months- whatever. My soon-to-be-ex-husband found it quite funny.

But here's the deal I have over 800 resumes out over the last year with my phone number in big letters across the top. Let's say they like my qualifications and give me a call...who are they going to get? World wide adult escort service...

I could not possibly make this up.

I will have to send out notices of change of phone number to over 800 companies with the hopes that they get filed along with my resume. My publisher will have to be notified. My banks. My freelance work. My writing associations.

And still- we all know that someone, somewhere is going to try to call me and get...yeah.

Somebody said something about Mercury in retrograde until Feb. 4th. Will be interesting to see what happens next.

Sunday, January 11, 2009

Why doesn't someone just shoot me now?

I went out today and did something no depressed, middle aged woman should have to do...

I went jean shopping. UGH!

I know, I know, all women have problems fitting jeans. Well, we do. Men can just pull their waist size and leg length off the shelf, put them on and voila! They look like a million bucks.

Don't even get me started. I tried on 12 pair... 12 pair only to re-enforce the sad fact that my pant size is one size larger than my skirt size. Why? Because I'm long waisted. The rise on a pair of jeans stops at my hip, not my waist. Even so called high-waisted jeans end two inches below my belly button. This leads to all kinds of fit problems. Finally, I found a pair that sort of looks decent-well, the waist fits-three inches below my belly button. The rest is far from fitted, but since the style is wide legged, it sort of looks okay.

So I bought them... to end the torture of trying on more jeans. Then came home and promptly pulled my sweat pants with the drawstring waist. Now, where's the chocolate?

Friday, January 9, 2009

Another week down

Headline: Joblessness is on the rise.
Headline: Thousands more jobs to be lost.
Headline: Could see double digit unemployment.

Sigh- so cheerful, these journalists are. I think because a lot of papers are making deep cuts and journalists are the unemployed these days. So, they're running around squawking like Chicken Little that the sky is falling. Duh.

Good news- I applied for three jobs this week. Bad news-I avoided two others-wince- avoided as in knew I qualified but really, really didn't want to go there. So much so that I found myself outside for over an hour the other day, ice picking frozen dog poo off the frozen ground instead of inside-in the warmth with my computer-sending out resumes. Crazy!

Yes, yes, in this economy, what I want doesn't matter much. I'm not getting any younger- and that makes things worse. Yes, I'll march myself back to those two jobs and apply-sigh.

It sucks to be a grown up.

Sunday, January 4, 2009

Does anyone follow this blog?

I've been told that I should use the gadget that allows people to sign up to follow this blog. I'm a bit afraid of that gadget. What if no one signs up? What if it sits for months begging someone, any one, to follow this blog? Maybe I'll add the gadget. Just to see if there are people so bored as to want to read a blog about a forty something woman starting over-without a job- or a million dollar mansion or a housekeeper or a nanny... Hollywood wouldn't believe it were true. :)

So, I'm adding the gadget today. We'll see if anyone owns up to reading. (If you prefer to lurk-that's fine. I don't mind lurking-it's the smirking and pointing while laughing that piss me off...)

Oh, by the way, I applied for a job last week-surprise. It was for a Marketing Services Manager for a company who hosts meetings and travel. And, remember the company I interviewed with in my old home town? The one where the guy wanted to go to lunch with me? I actually heard from the HR Director-a generic e-mail explaining that, no, the job has not yet been filled and would not be filled during the holidays-so happy new year, everyone... (Crazy, I applied in September. Sounds like this is one of those companies where it takes 6 months to get someone to take any action. Sigh.)

Maybe things will pick up this week... a girl can hope.

Thursday, January 1, 2009

New year, new you

I imagined I'd get up this morning with a sense of renewed purpose. That some how a new calendar date would change my life.

I cleaned my office. Readied my tax receipts and inventories and went through the half inch tall stack of papers listing all the jobs I applied for last year. The stack of notes from phone interviews. The pitches I had written before going in to face to face interviews. All in all, its about the saddest thing I've done in a long time. For the new year, you are supposed to list three big accomplishments. Then three disappointments. Then look at how you are limiting yourself and creating disappointments.

Successes: I wrote two proposals and two full books. I sent out fifteen query letters. I promoted myself by writing articles, meeting editors and agents, blogging and joining various on-line social forums. I applied for 27 pages (yes, that's right PAGES- as in 8 x11 inch sheets) worth of jobs. I traveled by train, car and airplane to interviews. I wrote sample articles, communications plans and prepared pitches. I made over two gallons of strawberry freezer jam.

Disappointments: My marriage ended. I am still unemployed after 14 months. My career as an author is no farther off the ground.

How did I limit myself? God knows. I'm sure there is someone out there more than happy to tell me how I'm screwing up. I have over fifty rejections - both job hunt and writing- in hand to prove it.

Wow- now you're supposed to list goals for the new year... I think mine might be to figure out why what I see as success only brings me disappointment.