We humans are always looking for a way to do things faster and easier. I'm all for convenience, but on the occasion when I take the time to do things the old fashioned way, it's a healthy reminder of why things were done that way to begin with. Slow can be meditative and healing. It helps you remember from whence you came. I acknowledge that faster isn't always better, and I'm thankful those old ways are not lost on me.
I really wish you could be here to stop and smell the apples.
Joey was a friend of a friend, and I was 18 when we met. He was only a half-year younger, but our birthdays fell in such a way that he was still a senior in high school, while I'd already failed a year of college and hit the working world. His face resembled a cross between David Duchovny and Dwight Yokum, with 80s rock star hair to round it out. He played guitar pretty well and was mostly low-key. I don't remember him ever speaking very loud, a trait Katy has unwittingly picked up in the genes.
Joey lived with his father and stepmother, but it didn't seem like a good relationship between the three of them. His mother had split to travel the country on a Harley, and he resented his stepmother in a huge way, both situations which I could relate to. His father seemed like a hard ass, but I only knew him from a teenage perspective, so in hindsight I realize my impression could have been mistaken. Then again, parents of my boyfriends never seemed to like me.
I remember when he first told me he loved me. He's the only guy I was ever truthful with (until Mark) about how I felt. I was still hung up on my first love, Frank. I told Joey that I really cared for him but that love wasn't a word I threw around lightly and I didn't want to say "I love you" until I meant it. He seemed to accept that, and appreciated the honesty, but it didn't keep him from telling me he loved me all the time and I felt stupid not saying it back. I was determined to mean it though.
I finally said it about four months later when I was in Austin visiting some friends. I'd called him to say hi and that I missed him, and at the end of the conversation he said I love you the same as he always did, and I said it back without even thinking. Then there was a very loud silence. He asked, "Are you sure?" I wasn't really, but figured maybe I did mean it if I'd said it without thinking so I said, "yeah." He was obviously on cloud 9 and I felt like I just landed on Mars. I dreaded seeing him again after that, but I couldn't avoid it and he was so happy I decided maybe eventually it would be true.
I lived in a tiny studio apartment in a questionable area of town at the time. We'd been dating several months when Joey decided to drop out of high school. I told him that was a dumb idea, but a few nights later he showed up on my doorstep and told me he'd been kicked out of the house for dropping out, and his parents took away his car. He wanted to live with me and get a job. I told him again how stupid that was, but I let him move in with what little he had with him.
For four weeks I got up in the morning, went to work, and paid the bills. Sometimes I'd come home at lunch since work wasn't that far away and he'd still be sleeping at 1:00 in the afternoon. I've always been a night person and often sleep until afternoon, but not when I'm unemployed living off of someone else.
My apartment was located between two major malls, in walking distance of either one, so it wasn't like his lack of transportation was a problem. I didn't expect him to have a corporate job that supported both of us, I just wanted him to have anything that would contribute to the bills. I asked him nicely at first why he wasn't looking for a job and he always said he planned to start tomorrow. I swallowed this for about two weeks before I got bitchy about it. When it was obvious he really didn't plan to do anything but be a sponge, I gave him an ultimatum. He promised again that he would apply at the mall the next day.
I don't know what made me go home for lunch that day, it was probably lack of money, but I guess it was the Universe getting me out of a bad situation before it got worse. When I walked in the door it was like the cameras were rolling and I was suddenly in some Hollywood drama. His uncle, whom I'd met previously, liked, and trusted, was sitting at my table cutting up a line of coke on one of my mirrors while Joey stood off to the side playing guitar. I don't think any of us could've been more shocked. They had obviously not seen me coming and it had never even occurred to me that this was a possible scenario. I guess I was naive, but I would've never predicted that Joey used drugs. And I guess I did love him or his betrayal wouldn't have hurt like it did.
I don't remember exactly all the words that transpired, but in the end I told Joey if he was not out of my apartment permanently when I got back from work that night, I would call the cops and report them both. I don't even know how I made it through the rest of the day, but I did. I'm a pretty forgiving person, but there are some lines no sane person would cross. Doing coke in my house while you're an unemployed high school dropout, and I'm struggling to pay the bills at 18 years old, is definitely one of my lines. And boy, that's some lovely family support from his uncle, eh?
So Joey was gone like I asked by the time I got home. When I finally took one of his calls weeks later he said he'd moved back in with his parents and was going to rehab. I didn't talk to him again for almost a year.
We did eventually hook up though or Katy would not exist. I had successfully avoided him at all gatherings of our mutual friends until Vince's birthday. It was a major party and I was told that Joey had been clean and sober for awhile, and that he still wanted to get back together. I wasn't interested, but I wasn't dating anyone either. I was still too shaken up about having so grossly misjudged his character.
Sure enough, he was there when I arrived, and immediately turned our conversation into a love drama of explanations and self-introspection. We agreed to go back to my apartment to continue our talk when the party started breaking up. It got so late I told him he could sleep there if he wanted, but that's all we were doing was sleeping. I guess we both had good intentions but those things kind of get thrown under the bus in the wake of teenage hormones. We didn't have any protection and I said fuck it anyway, and as soon as we were done I knew I was in trouble. I mean literally the moment it happened I knew. I don't know how I knew, but I did. I didn't mention it to him though.
The nausea started a couple weeks later, and the tests all came back positive. Now I had a real problem. I had also heard that Joey went back to using when I refused to get back together with him. Deciding to keep Katy is a story all its own for another time, but obviously that's what my decision was. I didn't want Joey involved in her life at all because of his drug use. I debated long and hard with many people over whether to tell him or not, but in the end I decided it would be easier not to, both for Katy's sake and Joey's. He had enough problems to deal with.
I managed to keep my pregnancy and Katy's birth a secret from him, but when she was two months old, one of our friends slipped in conversation and told him I'd had a baby. Fortunately I'd only told one person in that group who the father was, but I'm sure it wasn't hard to do the math. Joey called me demanding to know if Katy was his and I lied and told him it was another guy I'd slept with after him. I suck at lying and it was really good I only had to talk to him over the phone or I'm sure he would've seen right through it. He probably did anyway, but he let it go. At least, I think he did.
Late in the evening on November 14, 1989, my mother received a call on her private line from Joey's and my mutual friend, Jason (not Mraz). Jason was the only one outside my family that knew Joey was Katy's father. I couldn't imagine what he was calling my mother for. It's weird how moments of great trauma slow down in time. I was feeding Katy, rocking her to sleep, and Mom came to tell me what Jason had relayed to her.
I don't know who built the treehouse, but it was a party place. All teens that lived in the area seemed to know about it and they went there to smoke weed and drink. It was well away from any roads; you had to walk through some woods and across a train trestle to get to it, so the cops didn't bother you up there. I remember going out there at night once with a bunch of people and it was scary but cool. It felt so far away from civilization and crossing the train track, where there was no escape if you didn't get across before the train came, made my heart race even though there wasn't a train in sight.
Apparently Joey had gone out there earlier in the day with some weed and his father's gun. The police report said he smoked the weed with some 13 year old kids, then the kids left. When they came back later that evening, they found Joey dead with a gunshot wound to the head. The coroner's report said he also had heroin in his system. He was 19 years old, only a year older than Katy is now.
Other pieces of the story surfaced with time. He had stolen a guitar and sold it for drug money and was about to go to jail for it. He had tried to commit suicide once before by cutting his wrists. I didn't know either of those things. Jason swore to me he never revealed Katy's paternity, but they were best friends long before I came on the scene, and Joey had been at Jason's house that day and seen pictures of Katy on the piano. I'm not sure what to think about whether Joey knew or not, and if he did know if that was good or bad.
I think I was more upset for Katy than anything because Joey's decision wasn't only for himself, it closed the door on any opportunity the two of them may have had to know each other. Even though I didn't want him around her while she grew up, I never doubted that someday he might clean up and when she was old enough and beyond the influence of his bad habits, I would tell him everything and hope he would understand my reasons and not hold it against me or my daughter. Katy has turned out to be a good kid. She's gotten in some trouble here and there, but never with drugs or sex, and no more than an average teenager. I'd like to think that's all the proof I need to know I made the right decision, but nights like this I have my doubts.
I don't even have a picture of him. I've asked Jason and some other friends if they have any, but they are either unwilling or unable to dig them up. Since she turned 18, I've offered to get in touch with his parents so she can meet them and see pictures, hear stories, or whatever she needs to resolve some things in her head, but so far she says she doesn't want to.
The first few years were hard every time the calendar came to this day, but the questions and emotions fade with time. In recent years, it's barely hit my radar. I'm not sure why hearing Mraz talk about his friend made me think so deeply about it, but I needed to write the story down anyway, so I'm thankful the chi was stirred.
Whatever branch of reality Joey chose to inhabit next, I hope he's happier there than he was here.
What? It could happen. Don't be a party pooper. :P
A book jumped off the shelf at me in Borders yesterday. The title is 2012, The Return of Quetzalcoatl by Daniel Pinchbeck. I've had a thing for the Plumed Serpent since elementary school, when I was the only one who could pronounce or spell the name without effort. (That sounded dirty, but I didn't mean it that way. Or maybe it's just my own jaded brain.) It was really the cover of the book that caught my eye - the whole thing is a muted metallic olive green with an embossed Fibonacci spiral made of circles. Only the black & white text of the title and author mar the expanse near the bottom margin. On the shelf next to a clamor of color and pictures, this cover's simple elegance stood out in stark contrast. Since the subject is something I'm interested in, I had to buy it. And of course I had to buy the hardcover, which is twice as much as the paperback, because I'm picky that way. (I noticed later that the book is published by Penguin, which is a division of Pearson, so I could've bought it half price from work. Oh well.)
Such is the reason I find it dangerous to venture into the bookstore. Escaping with my wallet intact is very difficult for me. At the rate I'm going, I'll have to retire in the next few years to be able to read everything I've got on my shelf before I die. I'm only a few pages into this one, so I can't really offer an opinion or synopsis of the book yet, but hopefully the contents will live up to the cover design.
If you look it up on Amazon, be sure to dig deeper than the initial reviews on the front page. Overall the rating is high, but the reviews available on the front page all sounded like they came from conservatives that are not in a place to appreciate this kind of stream-of-consciousness writing. The reviews from people that liked the book seem to be more on par with my general opinions, so I'm still anticipating this will turn out well. That kind of disparity tells me it's probably one of those love it or hate it things, depending on your personal perspective of spirituality and being.
Now if you don't mind, I think I will get off this computer and spend a few minutes in the sun, then really dig into this book, quite possibly next to an active fireplace and a large cup of tea since it's only 45 degrees out today. The only thing missing from my self-portrait will be a large orange cat named Paddington purring on the couch next to me. My next 11:11 wish will be to not be allergic to cats. :\
No really, I was using the can as a microphone. Who eats whipped cream for breakfast? ;)
Click here to see my birthday according to the Aztec calendar.
The best thing that ever happened to me at the office though was the Macintosh. I was about 15 when the first MacXL hit the market and Mom brought me in the office to show me how it worked with the mouse and all that. I was fascinated. In 1987 QuarkXPress was released for the Mac and Mom showed me how to do page layout with it. She paid me to help her with business reports and newsletters, and through my teen years I made a decent amount of pocket cash doing odd design jobs. I thought this would be a good career, but being a teen just out of high school, and the web not having taken hold yet, no one would take me seriously in the design industry.
I became a mom myself at age 20 and going to school for design was tossed to the backseat. I got a job in a law office answering phones and doing light clerical work because babysitters don't work retail hours. With the computer knowledge I had and my typing speed they soon had me typing up legal documents like a regular legal secretary. The knowledge of legal proceedings I gained from that job kept me from getting screwed so many times. I would've probably become a paralegal if my family hadn't all decided to move to Arizona. I didn't want to be all alone in Dallas so I quit my job and followed them out there with my 2 year old daughter.
In Arizona I found a job in a commercial real estate brokerage that used Macs. I was still only a secretary, but part of the job was making flyers for commercial properties and they used Quark to do that. I was there for almost three years until the Vice President, who really ran the company, died of cancer. The brokerage was sold to a larger firm and my job was eliminated.
I was then hired at SHR, who always hated to be referred to as an ad agency, but that's really what they do, along with brand marketing (and they're very good at it). They were an all-Mac office as well. I continued keeping up my Quark skills there and learned about Photoshop. Since it was on every computer, I got to play with it whenever I had some free time but I was never taught anything specific so I only knew things I'd figured out here and there.
In August of 96, a company that used Windows exclusively hired my mom and gave her a laptop. She had a Macintosh Quadra at the time at home, and had to take it in for a warranty repair. They gave her a brand new Mac but since she already had the laptop from work and the Mac wasn't compatible with it, she sent it to me. That was the first computer I had exclusively at my disposal for whatever I wanted. I immediately got online and learned how to manipulate AOL like an expert. That's how I met my boyfriend, Mark.
As Mark's and my relationship developed he taught me about HTML coding and coached me on a few more Photoshop tricks. I left Arizona to move back East and ended up in Georgia living with my mom again for six months (which is a whole other story). At this point I had decent Quark skills, some Photoshop skills, and I had taken a class in HTML and could code simple web sites, but I lacked any experience with Illustrator. For a job as a graphic designer, the trifecta is Quark/Photoshop/Illustrator. I'd technically been a computer geek for 12 years and I usually knew more about the software than the person interviewing me, but lacking knowledge of that one application closed doors everywhere as far as graphics went.
I pursued a graphics position for awhile anyway, but no one wanted to pay me for what I knew and teach me what I didn't. Being that I had to keep a steady income to support my daughter, and not wanting to exploit the time I had with Kaytee to learn another software program, I settled for more secretarial jobs.
I moved to New Jersey in 98 and after a year started working for a company that was making millions on porn sites. In a super twist of cosmic irony, their headquarters were in Arizona - in the same building SHR was in - but because it was the web, most employees worked remotely from home. These guys used Windows, and it was close enough to a Mac at that point that I didn't have much trouble converting, but I still liked Macs better.
I was hired to create and manage their customer service department, and I knocked that sucker out of the park whether it was appreciated or not. For about six years (some very important growing up ones for Kaytee), I managed to make a good living and be a stay-at-home mom. Not many single parents can say that. I worked from home, made my own hours, and made an awesome paycheck (with which I eventually bought a Mac in addition to my Windows machine!). Life was off the hook. Unfortunately, the company started sliding downhill and eventually outsourced my position in Nov 2005 to the billing company. I'd made quite an impression as the liaison with the billing company and they offered to hire me, but they were located in Arizona too and I was already living with Mark, plus Kaytee was a junior in high school and I couldn't change her whole world with only a year to go.
I was hired at Pearson in April 06 as a Production Editor for supplements to college textbooks at half the salary I was making before. It's caused a lot of financial problems, but it's an easy enough position - mostly you have to be organized and detailed and since I am naturally both, I excel at the job.
I took some classes that Pearson offered in Photoshop and Illustrator, but without anything consistent to apply them to, the knowledge melted away. With the reorganizing of our department, they cut me off from any classes that didn't directly relate to my job, and at this point, I'd really kind of given up the idea that I would be a graphic designer. I just didn't have the time to get my skills up to par.
Jessie was hired after me, and we sat across the aisle from each other in the cube farm. One day I was looking through the internal postings of other jobs in the company and I saw a listing for a Project Manager in the media group, which dealt more with the web side of things. I knew Jessie had web experience from her last job so I sent her the description and said she should apply, which she did. I intended to apply to, but was lazy and never sent anything in. She got the job in June and I was really happy for her.
Just a couple weeks ago she emailed me asking for my resume because there was another project manager position open in her group and she thought I would be great at it. She submitted my resume and the girl that did the preliminary screening gave me a call to find out more about me. In our conversation I mentioned all my Photoshop and Quark skills, and she asked if I would be interested in a graphic design position they had open instead.
Are you kidding me?
I interviewed with four people last week. I made it clear that I would have to be given time to learn Illustrator, but they said it's mostly Photoshop work anyway. Human Resources called me Friday right as I was about to leave to offer me the job. It's more money, the group works from home two days a week, they assign me a MacBook Pro laptop (I assured my white MacBook it had nothing to worry about), and of course I said yes!
I'm still having trouble believing I finally unlocked whatever it was that allowed me to be a graphic designer in exactly the way I wanted. I know reality is malleable, and I believe we create our existence as we go, but I've been trying to open that door for so long I'm kind of standing here on the threshold still in shock. It all happened so fast. It was like okay, your kid turned 18, BANG, you're a graphic designer. Pick up right where you left off when you took that detour to raise her. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. Thank you for playing. Ummm, okay, someone move my little hat around the corner there.
I also see this as the first step to moving out to California. I couldn't afford to be there on the salary I was making before, but this is a good enough leap that if I learn what I need to learn, eventually I'll be able to find a job in CA at a price I can exist on. Kaytee wants to go to school at Musician's Institute in LA, and I wouldn't mind working at Industrial Light and Magic like I've wanted to since the 80s. This feels like finding a portal to another dimension. Perhaps it was a jump to another branch of reality. All I know is I feel like I've been on the service road for 18 years and I'm finally on the ramp back to the highway. I still want to be a bestselling author too, but as far as corporate jobs go, this is where I've wanted to be for a long time.
Tonight I am thankful for blogs and new jobs and climbing out of debt and the sound of the rain this morning and the sun this afternoon and beautiful fall colors and Jason's outrageous red dress picture that made me laugh and rendered me speechless, and for it all coming together.
