Remembering How to Live

My "usual" plans for Saturdays didn't work out today and I missed out on a very important weekly appointment I always look forward to all week. So, I decided that I needed some cheering up. Tonight I celebrated - well, for lack of anything else - ME!

I recently hurt my leg pretty badly and seem to only be ok when walking if my heel is elevated slightly. It eases pressure on that part of my leg I maimed. So, I took that as a good excuse to put on some heels and go for a walk. I slipped into a dress I've had for a while and have never worn and donned my favorite black boots for ankle support with a height adjuster. I then walked down to "George's Greek Cafe" in Belmont Shore where I treated myself to a lovely appetizer, Dolmathes for my entree, a glass of fine red wine to accompany, and then Baklava with ice cream and coffee for desert. The meal took about two hours to eat and I spread it out on purpose. I enjoyed and savored every minute of it.

As I sat there in the patio of the restaurant watching the people go by, I got several looks of approval. I guess my legs haven't lost their appeal, even if they have lost a bit of color from not having seen daylight in almost a year. It was refreshing, feeling like I didn't need a reason to throw on a dress and heels, but instead just to dress up because I felt like it.

Back in November I decided that once I got the position of Director at work, I would celebrate by having my first cigar in over a year. Well, life got in the way and that never happened for me. It just so happened that my favorite cigar shop was just across the street from Georges, so when I finished eating and payed for my meal, I decided to walk across the street to purchase a cigar to take home.

I stood at the register and pulled out my credit card to take care of the tab. As I stood there, suddenly the heel on my boot broke completely off and I nearly fell down. Another patron in the cigar shop caught me by the arm before I completely collapsed and helped me to a chair. It just so happened that I had bought a tube of super glue at Rite Aid earlier in the day for work and had it in my jacket pocket. So, as I sat there in the chair making small talk with the person who caught me, I tried gluing the heel back on my boot just to make it home. It was about a half mile walk at that point, and that wouldn't have been at all easy on a lame leg and a broken heel.

The super glue didn't want to work! I tried and tried, but it just didn't work for me. Finally, taking it as a bit of a sign that I wasn't meant to go home and hide for the rest of the night when it was only 6:30 pm, I asked for a light. The cigar I had picked out was a good, long smoke that took about two hours. I chatted and watched a Clint Eastwood movie with the regular customers who all wanted to know who this redheaded woman was in the shop smoking a cigar. When the two Long Beach Police Officers walked in, it was no different.

I've never had a problem holding my own with the boys. I was surrounded by men and yet I fit right in. There's nothing new there, most of my friends have always been guys. We talked cigars, sports, movies and Single Malt Scotch. Turns out I knew more about Scotch than most of the guys did. I always shine when that happens.

By the time I left I received 3 hugs from different people - the first hugs I've gotten in a VERY long time (other than Keira who hugged me last weekend after we saw a movie - @keiradazi on Twitter). I took a step out side and the heel I had tried in vain to glue back into position snapped off again and one of the Officers noticed. Suddenly I was being chauffeured home in a LBPD car front seat. By the time we pulled up, my neighbors were all looking out over the railing, wondering what was going on. This was WITHOUT the lights or sirens.

It's been a while since I got to sit in the front seat of a cop car. It was a memory worth reliving. I very much enjoyed it.

I found out before I left that most of the guys I met at the cigar shop tonight are there every Saturday. I think I found a new Saturday Night home! I'm remembering what it's like to have a life outside of my four walls and cat. I'm making friends again, finding something to do, and discovering I don't have to be so lonely or reclusive.

I've been missing something and someone so much lately, and suddenly the pain isn't as bad as it was. I ate a fine meal, had a glorious time, and was treated with the dignity and respect I wouldn't find if I walked into a bar here in California only wanting a glass of wine. I felt like I fit in with these guys. What's more, they felt like that too!

I think I'll go back next Saturday night as well. It was a pleasant evening and one I very much needed. More than that, it was one I deserved.

I think we should all do something like this once in a while. I really couldn't afford it, but I needed it and I enjoyed it. I hope each of you can find that moment of peace in your lives as well - that divine moment when pain doesn't exist, friends abound in the faces of strangers, and we feel just that much better at the end of a long week.

If you're ever in Belmont Shore - may I suggest these places?


George's Greek Cafe
5316 E 2nd St
Long Beach, CA 90803
Tel: (562) 433-1755
www.georgesgreekcafe.com


Anto's Cigar Lounge
5305 East 2nd Street, Suite 101.
Long Beach, CA 90803.
Tel: 562-438-5069.
www.antoscigarlounge.com






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Comfort Food

Wikipedia defines comfort food as a "simple, familiar food that is usually home-cooked or eaten at informal restaurants." Wikipedia goes on to say that "more generally, comfort food can be defined as food that brings some form or measure of comfort, sense of well-being, or easy satisfaction... [It] may also involve foods that have a nostalgic element either to an individual or a specific culture."

Well, tonight I went in search of some "nostalgic element" food and ended up with a full plate of spaghetti that I devoured within minutes.

It's been one of the hardest weeks I can recal in a very long time. Communication is lacking in several areas of my life right now and I'm growing more and more recluse by the day. These days the only people I get a chance to interact with are the people who work for me. It's hard to socialize and vent to those people you would be venting about. I can't very well take one Officer asside and tell them what the other guys have done to piss me off, only to chose another Officer to complain to about the one I had just spoken with. Things don't work that way in the business world.

I love (or loved) my job when I first got my title on December 21st. It was a momentus day for me - the day I finally got recognized for the dedication and pride I took in my work. There was nobody more qualified than I was to get the job done, but more than that I took such pride in what I was doing and knew exactly what I wanted to accomplish. Was I too ambitious?

I still have high hopes for my crew and want to make sure we get high praise for a job well done. With the way things have been going, this hasn't been happening and it's not likely to happen on the path we seem to be treading.

I'm a perfectionist in many respects. I beat myself up if I feel I've not done a good job. I can't help but feel like I could be doing better than I am at the moment, but I don't know what more I can do. Already I work 10 to 12 hours a day, and I'm about to go from 6 days to 7 days a week. I can't do it all myself, and these guys just don't realize that.

I've tried hard to make them understand that I will never ask them to do something that I myself wouldn't do. I bring treats (like the basket of varied chocolates for Easter I brought in today or the cupcakes I brought in to the meeting on March 27th) that I pay for out of my own pocket. It's no wonder I can't afford to buy dinner for myself - if I get a little extra, I give it back to my crew.

I think that's going to have to stop. I like being able to share with them - and Lord knows they're the only people I see these days, so who else can I share with? My life has grown to revolve around this post the past few months. I guess I'm maybe taking it a little too personally when someone decides to transfer away, and I shouldn't. Unlike me, they all have families and friends they like to spend time with. These guys are all I know of life here in California at the moment. It's sad, but it's true. I'm kind of like the "Mom" it's been said several times. Some people love their mothers and would do anything for them. Others take their mothers for granted and do whatever they can to get away with murder.

I've been taken advantage of here at work. I give them ALMOST anything they ask for, like days off, vacations, schedule changes, shift swaps - the like. Well, as much as I hate to do it, that's about to change. I'm going to have to be rather strict. That's not a side of me I like to see, and I'm certain they won't like it either.

It's sad when my life revolves around work. I spend about 70 hours a week at work, and hour going to work and an hour going home from work. If I added up the hours, that would be about 82 hours a week spent revolving around work. That's not including the phone calls at all hours of the day and night (and I always answer. I make sure the guys know I'm ALWAYS available when they need me) and the number jumps up closer to about 85 hours a week. When there are only 168 hours in a week, that leaves me about 83 hours a week to myself. If we break that down, it works out to
about 11 hours each day to sleep, eat, bathe, feed the cat, go grocery shopping, get my laundry, iron my work uniforms, clean the house, BLOG, and spend time with my friends. If that 11 hours is factored down and sleep time is taken out that leaves me about 3-4 hours a day to get ALL of that done. No probem, you say? HA! Somehow I still don't manage to go to bed until midnight and have to wake up at 6am. That way I give myself more time to get things done.

Life exists only for work these days - except Saturdays. Saturdays are mine. That is a full 24 hours that nobody can take away from me. That day is far too important to me. I might not even leave the house on a Saturday, but that's my choice and one I'm more than happy to make. Now, if we go back and take that 24 hours out of the 83 hours a week I can spend on myself durring the rest of the week, that leaves me only 59 hours a week before and after work to get my tasks finished. That's about 8.5 hours a day, and now it makes sense why I go to bed so late still feeling like I didn't get anything done.

I'm making myself sick. I haven't had a decent nights sleep in months. The bags under my eyes are growing every day. I use blush to hide the fact I'm as pale as an Easter rabbit. I'm not eating properly and have dropped about 10 lbs in an unhealthy way. I used to look forward to going to work.

I need a vacation and I know exactly where I'm going when I get one. I'm going to be about 5,000 miles away from work, away from home, away from bills and phone calls and these problems that are causing me to develop an ulcer.

So - I decided to do something nice for myself. I really couldn't afford it, and I'll be paying off this spaghetti for months since I put it on my credit card, but I was hungry and needed some comfort food rather badly. It was comforting, I'll admit. I'm feeling better already - but often my venting on a blog helps that immensely.

I'll be ok. I just have to wrap my head around it and take strong control. I need to "suck it up" and get the job done. And I will, no doubt in my mind, I will. I'm just not sure how yet.



So - what's YOUR comfort food?