It'll be a full moon tonight, a Blue Moon on New Year's Eve. Once again I wonder where the year went. I can barely remember being off treatment, sometime in the summer. More vivid is the memory of the (painful) bone biopsy and making our first offer on a house the next day (I hobbled around with a cane). And more significant is the lingering feeling of having wasted that precious time house hunting! But anyway. Here we are.
"Thanks for actual food and the proverbial food for thought.
You have done very well with living your life being aware of the cancer and keeping it from being your primary focus.
You are an amazing person and our team recognizes how fortunate we are to work with you. We have learned from you as well.
Again, thanks for your many gifts. Best to your husband,
Happy Holidays and Happy New Year..."
Frequently, I will fall madly in love with a piece of furniture that leaves even my closest friends & allies scratching their heads in confusion. Such was the case with my new desk. When I first showed it to my husband, I could tell he was skeptical, but knew better than to say so...When the glimmer is in my eye, just back away.
It was love at first glance on Craigslist for me:
As you can see from the original photo, the desk & chair look a bit rough around the edges; the image itself was taken from inside a cramped storage locker of some sort. I knew, however, from first sight, we were destined to do great things together.
So I contacted the owner to arrange a viewing. We had several conversations over the course of a few days while attempting to fit our schedules together and I learned that the desk had belonged to his mother and he had the pity-able task of sorting out her belongings. I told him that I was a furniture maker and would take really good care of it...that I wasn't sure if I would refinish it, or leave it alone, but either way it would be loved. In a small way, I think these exchanges may have been a bit therapeutic for him, as I sensed he was perhaps a bit choked up on the other line.
I should mention, in addition to being incredibly kind, he was also extremely fair with the price ($45 for desk, chair, & mirror) and generously offered to deliver it to me for free.
So yesterday, when he showed up, it was an easy no brainer. I saw it on the truck, knew it was love, handed him the money, and brought it in the house. It was a little dirty from being in storage, but a little simple green & elbow grease was all it took to clean up nicely:
While pulling out one of the drawers, my husband discovered hidden treasures had fallen into the back of it. I couldn't believe it - a beautiful desk AND hidden treasure! I had hit the jackpot. The best things we found: an antique bottle opener, stolen from a San Francisco hotel called The Raphael; a porcelain lid to a tiny box (this must have made her CRAZY trying to find it); an old silver swiss army knife? or nail cutter?; and best of all - a tiny gold skeleton key with a #2 on it.
Doesn't that just pique your sense of wonder & adventure like crazy???!!!! WHAT on earth does that key open and HOW will I find it?
Well, those questions may have to go unanswered. I plan to call the man today and offer him what I found...but I'm REALLY hoping he doesn't want them back, because I love them so much! I would like to keep them with the desk, either displayed behind my computer or in a shadow box on the wall. Each item has so much history and so many secrets to tell...If I am allowed to keep them, I know they will provide endless inspiration and possibly good luck while spending long hours feverishly writing at this desk.
When I was a desk jockey in San Francisco, I frequently changed my desktop image to something happy and tropical because I was, well - unhappy & cold. Now that I'm back in Hawaii, I wanted to put some images out into the internets, in case anyone out there is searching for warm, flowery, happy, tropical, Hawaii wallpaper:
As the pipe clamp blisters began to pop and heal on my hands, I knew I was in a race against myself to find my next gig in woodworking. I had just quit my job after I was put on a mandatory 72-hour work week schedule, which was neither safe nor necessary in the warehouse where I was a full time furniture maker. From my first taste of sawdust, I was hooked. I loved everything about it, especially the aches & pains associated with putting in a hard day of manual labor.
I had moved thousands of miles from my industrial Michigan factory roots, only to go to college and decide the blue collar life is what I wanted. I quit my job, only when it was obvious that it would either kill or permanently injure me...but it was still one of the hardest decisions I have ever had to make. Besides the fact that I love it, I realize now how wrapped up I was in the identity of being just one thing...In my working life, I have always had to have at least three side hustles going on and I've done everything from nude modeling, to being a maid, a well-paid executive assistant, an extra in movies, a make-up artist, to an apprentice sander in a woodshop.
When I call home to update my family, typically, whatever it is I describe is met with unconditional love & acceptance, even if there is a tinge of it not necessarily being understood. As a woodworker, I was finally able to align myself with an identity - one thing that I loved being and doing...and it was so much easier to explain that!
Predictably, when the job fell apart, I scrambled for any paying gig I could find on craigslist. As it turns out, it was a good time to be involved with film making and I even signed up for acting classes. Being involved in the process is as exciting as it seems like it would be - even the long hours of waiting, while being completely dressed to the nines for a 6:00 a.m. call time, shouldn't be exciting, but it still is.
Around this time I also found work as a fit model, working for a local design house. It's a job that pays very well but the work is inconsistent. Still, I am extremely thankful to have it, even if it is a bit weird for me to use it as an identifier at the dentist's office and have the receptionist squeal and ask me a bunch of questions about the job. That's a rock star moment, I'm not going to lie, but it's completely foreign to me to identify myself as "model" in any capacity...especially when "factory rat" was a closer signifier just weeks ago.
I'm not sure if all the discomfort in lacking a fixed occupation or identity squarely rests on my shoulders, or if I am reacting to other people's confusion when I try to explain, "Well, I'm actually a furniture maker, but I'm out of work, so I'm doing the acting and modeling thing, while looking for another woodworking gig." Who does that? I'm not sure if I even understand myself anymore.
In the long run, it's probably a good thing that I am so versatile & adaptable - I always have something relevent for any type of resume I'm creating for myself (and I have at least 3); but I long for the day when I have a short answer to the question, "So what do you do?"
I've deactivated my FB account. It's a time-waster, although I've found many people I haven't thought of in years. I have a storage tote full of greeting cards and in the process of digging out Xmas ones, I found an old Hello Kitty phone book. Wow, what a journey through the past. Now that that's out of the way, I freaked out and started cleaning up my profiles. At this point I want to disappear into the woodwork. Alas, I think the web might be rife with all manner of inaccurate (and correct) info linked to my name. Scary. I just want to shake it off. Maybe I'll change my name to something like Tuesday Friday...