Caught in a moment

bear :: black mountain symphony @ the lucky dog, worcester, ma :: march 31, 2010

So. The new day job is kicking my ass.  I feel like I’m working around the clock. I go in on weekends. I bring work home. I stress all the time over the details. And that’s just doing one company’s books. I was hired to do the books for five different companies - all under the same corporate umbrella. The main company I’m working on right now is a bit of a financial disaster. It’s totally fixable, and we’re on the right path to finally become profitable, but holy cow. This week, I took on the books for company number 2. I’m definitely not complaining, though. I LOVE IT THERE. The people are awesome and Boy Wonder always makes me laugh. I’m fortunate that I went from bouncing paychecks and temper tantrums to working like a dog but having a blast. Definitely a change for the better, and once we get profitable, it will be even more awesome.

I went out to dinner this week with a former co-worker. Her eldest daughter is my age, so from time to time I look to her for motherly advice. Life got completely funked up weird this week, and I really appreciated hearing her take on certain things. I will admit, I giggled like a fiend when she yelled at me for taking jobs at struggling companies and trying to turn them around. I failed at the last job - but only because I was being fought every step of the way. This job, I’m excelling at. Mostly because I’m a superstar. She kept telling me I needed a cape because I’m SUPER TAM! I laugh every time I think of myself at my desk with my cape on. I have GOT to find a cape… and maybe a tiara.

I got busted on Easter Sunday for being at Bean’s instead of Rhode Island for Easter Dinner. Didn’t really enjoy the fact that I was accused of turning my back on them. Telephones work both ways and they always knew where my father was - he would have passed out my information to them. (At least they did know where he was right up until he moved to Ohio and died.) I can’t continually apologize for “disappearing” so that I could take care of myself after my mother died, and I refuse to do it any more. People don’t accept the fact, or would prefer to ignore the fact, that I hated my mother with a fiery passion. I really, seriously, wished her dead all the time. When she died, my father and I did indeed sing, “Ding dong the witch is dead.” (Yes. Yes, we did.) However, I needed some closure and I never got it. I needed to know the woman my father loved, and I never got that chance. Sorry to drop an f-bomb, but that seriously fucked me up. I was broken and I had nowhere to run, no one to fix me. This was a situation of my own doing and I have to live with the choices I made until the day I die. So, yeah, I was in a pretty shitty mood after that conversation.

Thankfully, I was able to stop at the ocean on the way home. Sitting on the rocks, watching the waves crash. That heals me in a way conversations - even really good ones, with the best friends a girl can have - can’t. I connect with my father when I’m near the ocean, smelling the salty air, and it just makes everything better. It didn’t hurt that I had a brand-spankin’-new kayak on the top of my car, either. Today, the Wonder Hubby and I took the kayaks out and cruised around the salt marsh behind our house. If the wind hadn’t sucked so bad, and we hadn’t fought the freaking tide, it would have been a perfect outing. More healing after the crap that came down this weekend. It’s like I’m not allowed to have a fun time without getting shafted on the flip side. Grr… 

Also keeping me on the right side of sane when I can’t get to the water is (surprise!) music. I journeyed into Worcester on a Wednesday night a few weeks ago now and hung out with Black Mountain Symphony. (Check out their new album!) Since I got there too early, I wandered into the bar across the street from the Lucky Dog and ran into the band. (There is nothing like getting a huge hug from Bill!) I helped them lug their gear into the bar, which had the side effect of getting to talk to Bear. He’s such a nice guy. His sister, Annie, is a sweetheart, too. They’re all nice people, really. I’m fortunate that I got to meet them and even more fortunate that I get to call them my friends.

Of course, every outing has to have its defining moment. This one had several - loved getting the shout out from Bill, and did not love being asked if I was Annie’s mother. Dude, I’m not that much older than her! I wasn’t nearly as insulted by that as I was in one of Dave’s friends asked me if I was married to Derek, though. (Yukadoo! A) D’s so *not* my type and B) Seriously? EEEEEEEWWWWWWWW!!!!!)  The best part was when J and I went to see BMS again that Friday. The guy that asked was at Friday’s show too, and he was telling the table about how he insulted this girl - some “super fan” from New Hampshire - by asking if she was Annie and Bear’s mom. I couldn’t help myself and told him that if he was going to talk about me, to do it louder so I didn’t have to struggle to hear him. *grin* 

I still smile every time I think of this message Orion posted to my Facebook wall: Hey Tamara! I just wanted to thank you again for coming to see us play so much! We’re grateful for the support and it’s always good to see your friendly face at our shows! It’s really quite encouraging actually There’s nothing like being appreciated… and it really makes me want to head up to Albany to see them again since they don’t get down south much.

Water, friends, music, and working like a dog… that’s my life for now and I. Could. Not. Be. Happier.

BU got Shat on.

shatty (& friend) :: vs. maine :: february 13, 2010

grumble grumble grumble

BU’s lost Kevin Shattenkirk, Colby Cohen, and Nick Bonino early.

BU’s downfall this year can easily be traced back to a shitty captain (*cough* SHATTENKIRK *cough*) who didn’t help his team live to their potential.  Seriously, did he not learn any lessons from Matty? I think screwing up as royally as he did and then leaving school early just shows what kind of person he is. I don’t like that person.

grumble grumble grumble

I actually have stuff to write about—real stuff—but I worked all day today, brought work home, and have a buttload of personal stuff to do. *sigh* This day job thing is killing me.

Hot stuff!

SPARKLEFEST 2010! :: da brook :: march 20 2010

d00d, look at that AMAZING Matt Gilroy jersey on the birthday girl.

You may go on with your lives now…

I’ll be back when I stop working around the clock and can actually breathe.

Redefinition

matty gilroy :: rangers at bruins, boston, ma :: january 9 2010

So.

Yesterday, I turned *cough* 35 *cough*. I have now been alive one year longer than my mother was in my life. Pardon my french, but that is some fucked up shit. It was not as hard to accept as I thought it would be, though. Then again, I was pretty good with last year.

I guess this is growing up.

Last night, I had some friends up so that we could make fun of sparkly vampires, drool over werewolves, and generally have some fun. There were birthday spanks (dude, I BRUISED!), and penises drawn on the whiteboard. There were plenty of hijinks, snarfing, and midget porn… basically, just another night with this crew.  My guests stayed overnight and this morning, we had “overnight” waffles and MEAT. Is it inappropriate for this forum if I say my husband provided the meat? *snicker*

Because my parents were both alcoholics, I can be rather touchy about the subject of alcohol. In fact, our house is dry. Bone dry. Last night, I lifted the ban and let my friends bring wine. (I KNOW!) My favorite moment was when we were putting the groceries away yesterday morning, and the Wonder Hubby turned to me and asked me if we should leave room for beer.

Sur-freaking-real.

To further make me wonder what the hell happened to me… I begged and pleaded and dropped several THOUSAND hints about getting a Gilroy jersey for my birthday. Normally, I’m a little bit skittish about getting too hooked on a particular player. The year I graduated high school,  I got an Andy Moog Bruins jersey for my birthday. Andy was traded to Dallas right around graduation day. I only wore it to one Bruins game - his first game back in Boston after the trade. Since then, I’ve kind of gotten over being a fan of a particular NHL player since they get traded so frequently. Then, Matty Gilroy happened. Four amazing years at BU, Hobey Baker, the National Championship… he stole my heart. Big. Time. There’ve been a lot of players in my life - those I’ve known personally, those I’ve cheered for at BU, those guys in the spoked B - but none I’ve loved like I loved Andy Moog. Until Matty. With Matty’s move to the Rangers, I found myself caring less and less for the Bruins. A team I have loved my ENTIRE life. Just like that.

I didn’t think this was possible, but I love that Gilroy jersey even more than I loved my Moog jersey.

Some other stuff has happened, too, that recently made me wonder why I’ve made certain things priorities. Apparently, there were some drunken texts and a half-assed apology during that conversation. I love the fact that person A stood up for me, and I love the fact that person B half-assed apologized, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m questioning why I’ve done so much for someone only to get continually crapped on. Well, I’m still keeping him a priority, but   things are going to be a little different from here on out. If they don’t like it… well…

I think a lot of this is not only a natural progression, but also directly related to the new job.

I’ve had a hard time, both here in Ohio, finding jobs that fit me particularly well. Matter of fact, I’ve had a new job just about every year since I’ve moved back to New England. I’ve been hoping that the next job is the last one, and I think we all know how my last “perfect” job went. All I’m going to say about that is when I threatened to leave during a conversation with the owner of the company, he didn’t take me seriously. I’m not sure how you can totally misread, “If this is the way it’s going to be, then I can’t work here anymore.” But, he did. Oh well. His loss.

In a lot of different ways, I’m thinking this new job may actually be the one the sticks. The main group I work with have personalities that mesh well with mine. The main company I work for is fascinating - both in terms of the industry, and in terms of what happened in the bookkeeper’s position. There have been no less than six different sets of hands in the books in two years. Four of those sets of hands had been trying to detangle the work of two sets. I have no proof - only rumors - and what I’ve seen in the books is… kind of interesting. I’ll let you draw your own conclusions as to what happened.

Eventually, I’ll be doing the books for three other companies all under the same corporate umbrella. I’m a little afraid of taking them on - the main company is a freaking mess (see above) and I’ve been working some sick hours. There’s more than enough work to keep me busy, to keep me entertained, to keep me happy.  I guess that’s what matters. Every day is a challenge, some days more challenging than others, but it’s not a straight bookkeeping job.

I think that finding this job is the last piece of the puzzle… the final step in redefining who I am.

Or at least who I am today.

It really is the little things (*snicker*)

boomer and matty :: agganis arena, boston, ma :: march 7 2008

I’m in a bit of a reflective place this weekend. Some really bad crap went down last week. None of it affected me directly, but it affected some of my friends in major ways. It’s not my place to say what happened, because I don’t really know, and it’s not my story to tell, but it was bad. Really bad. It caused a few of them to think about their lives, and like a snowball, it got me thinking about mine.

I had a conversation a few months ago with the brother of one of my best friends. I thought about him yesterday when I pulled on my new favorite shirt. On the front of it it says “the journey is the destination”. I used to focus on the end goal - where I wanted to be in five, ten, twenty years. I still do, but it’s been offset with the urge to live every day like it’s my last. My father’s final lesson, taught on the day he died: Life is too fucking short. Live it while you can. (And yes, my father would have dropped the f-bomb.) So, I’m learning how to enjoy the journey even though it’s taken me places I never would have expected. It’s not all bad… there are a lot of perks to just letting go and following your bliss.

Like this text message I received at 4AM: K thanks again 4 coming. Love u guys.

Sometimes, I find it odd that the things that bring me the most joy are the simple, stupid things…