I Like Dreamin'

I didn't get much done today. I was called in around 11PM, before I could go to the library. I finally decided I didn't have the time and tried to do job research instead. I ended up goofing off online, though I did do some research. Librarian jobs in general are faltering; a lot of people do their own research now online and don't need help. Children's and school librarians seem to be steady, though.

I wish meeting people was less scary. Maybe I'd be a real person by now, with a real life. I'd have pets or children, someone to love me, and a job I actually look forward to. I'd have friends who live here and are always there when I need them.

I'm just so tied up in knots. How can I write people I don't know? What would I say to the school librarians? Why can't someone in my family be interested in libraries? This was so much easier in high school and college, when I knew everyone. How can I talk to these people? They're so smart, and I never feel smart. Everyone SAYS I'm smart, but it always seems like I don't do the smart thing. If I'm so smart, why am I working at a grocery store, even though I went to college? If I'm an intellectual, why do I say such embarrassing things and trip over my tongue when I try to explain myself?

I feel like the only person who isn't doing anything. Everyone I know is busy with something except for me. The trouble is, I just can't see myself in a suit, going from huge office building to huge office building, trying to impress snotty old men in big leather chairs.

I want to work with children. I want to help people; REALLY help them, not just push their items through a line. I want to write and read and show people that doing those things can be fun and useful. I want to help some people at a time, not a hundred. I want to be involved with my job and not do something I've done so often, I'm just going through the motions and showing up because it earns me money.

I'm so scared, my stomach is in knots as I type this. I must sound like such a baby. Real adults know how to find jobs. They go to their family and friends and tell them that they're looking for a job, and then everyone passes it on until someone knows someone who can hire them. I'm too scared to know anyone. What if they don't like me because I'm different? What if they make fun of me? What if they hurt me? What if they laugh and don't want me there?

At least I know my stuffed animals won't hurt me. I adopted the free White Poodle I got for buying $10 or more of WebKinz items at Willie the Woodsman's WebKinz Party on Saturday. I finally decided on a name for her. She's named Blanche, which is French for "white." Blanche is Pet #25, so she came with a Super Bed. The Bed Of Roses I chose was so pretty, I did a whole "Summer Room" theme, surrounding the bed with the Red Roses vases and using beach, sky, and jungle themes for the remaining furniture.

I also adopted my Yellow Lab yesterday. His name is Nelson, after Nelson Eddy. I began a "Lab House" made up of the Dog and blue stripes theme that will be the home of all three WebKinz Labradors after I buy them.

For all my fussing, work ended up being steady until about 8PM, after which it was very dead.

Delights and Disappointments

There was a heavy "thump" and an "oof!" next to my door this morning as I ate my oatmeal and tangelo for breakfast. I opened my door and saw the back of a retreating mailman...and a HUGE box sitting on my porch! There was a pretty marker design of trees on the front...and Mom's new address. I hauled it in and ripped it open.

First out was Dulcinea, also known as Dulcie, Rose's old Cabbage Patch Kid. She wore her original blue and white calico dress and white t-strap shoes. (Poor dear's legs must be cold, though. Mom couldn't find the matching bloomers and socks.) She was perfectly clean, and her bright red-orange yarn hair was in a ponytail. Mom said she gave Dulcie a bath in warm Clorox, soap, and water. Her hair was washed separately in dish washing liquid (to keep it from losing it's color). She and Carrie now sit together on my bed. Looking at them side-by-side, I now realize Carrie could use a bath, too...

What made the box so heavy (other than the sheer number of items sent) were two big tins and a pile of books. One tin held the (now slightly outdated) The Wonderful World of Disney Trivia Game. The other was also Disney-related and held several bear-related items and a bag of hair clips and barrettes. Unfortunately, the larger tin did not survive the trip undamaged. It was bent out of shape in several places, and my attempts at fixing it only broke it along the spine. Sigh. I'm going to have to get rid of it. I really liked that tin, too. Mom got it mail-order from the (long defunct) Disney Channel Magazine sometime in the mid-80s. The pictures along the side depict three animated Disney movies set in old England - Alice In Wonderland, Robin Hood, and The Sword In the Stone. The pictures aren't that accurate, especially for Robin Hood, but the tin is big, cute, colorful, and it's been around for so long that I'm going to miss it.

My favorites, though, were the pile of old cake decorating books Mom sent. Her hardback Wilton Celebrate! books (she has II through V) date back to 1975. (Some of the coolest cake designs in Celebrate! II honor Americana, the Bicentennial, and "Makers of America," the different countries and people who helped make the US what it is today.) She also has five paperback Wilton books dating from 1979 (the year I was born!) to 1983. I have so many fond memories of these books. They're not in great shape, especially the paperbacks, but my sisters and I loved looking at them, making up stories about the elaborate decorations and dreaming of the ones we'd have for our next birthday or special event. (It's obvious which cakes we loved the most. Those pages are more dog-eared, worn, and ripped than the others.)

(To be honest, most of the cake designs in those books were so fancy, they never really made it to our parties. One major exception was the Little Women. One of the books, Celebration III, I think, showed four doll cakes depicting the four title characters of the famous Louisa May Alcott novel. I badly wanted Jo one year and begged Mom so hard, she finally gave in. The end product didn't really look much like the picture, but she WAS pretty and quite well-made - and tasty, too. Rose had a nifty Jack-and-Jill-themed cake a year later that also came out of Celebration III.)

The biggest surprise was The Mickey Mouse Cookbook. Though it apparently was released in 1975, I know it's been in our various kitchens since at least the mid-80s. All of the Disney animated characters up to that point headline different recipes, ranging from very simple (Dumbo's Peanut Butter Sandwich is peanut butter, bread, and...whatever you can put on peanut butter and bread) to "ask for an adult to help you" (recipes for larger items like cakes and meatloaf). The unqualified winner, though, is Merlin's Magic Chicken. Merlin from The Sword and the Stone conjures up an easy "not-fried" chicken dish - dredge chicken pieces in flour and paprika, put in greased pan, and bake! Merlin's Magic Chicken was such a smash hit with my entire family, we looked forward to when Mom made it in the winter, often accompanied by her heavenly home-made biscuits. (Even now, mentions of Merlin bring not magic but magically delicious chicken legs to mind!)

I called Mom to thank her for the gifts after I finished my tangelo. When I asked her why she sent me The Mickey Mouse Cookbook when I knew Dad and Keefe still love Merlin's, she said she'd committed all her favorite recipes from the book to memory years ago and thought I might like some Merlin's of my own!

I headed to the Haddon Township Library for this week's volunteering after I put everything away. I did the children's DVDs again. Lord, they do get scrambled. I made a very quick stop at Super Fresh afterwards to grab some milk (which I forgot to get last night at work when I did most of my grocery shopping) and ran home to get ready for my outing with my sister Rose.

I called Rose when I got in. She was a bit frazzled when she picked up. Seems she had a big report she'd put off that was due in a few weeks. Could we get together later in the day? No problem. I spent the rest of the afternoon making my first Checkerboard Cake (out of a white cake mix and a cocoa cake batter from scratch mixed with cherries) and watching The Yogi Bear Show.

I was looking at my cake books around quarter after 6 when I realized it was getting late and Rose hadn't called. I finally called her. She said she'd been trying to call me for hours but hadn't gotten through. It turns out she'd tried to come over, but her car broke down, and her boyfriend - and his car - weren't around. Could we go out some other time?

It's not fair. I'm still a little upset. I'd been looking forward to this mall trip since she suggested it earlier in the week. I put off going to the movies with Erica so we could get together. Instead of getting together with two friends, I ended up alone again. I thought she'd gotten the damn car fixed or replaced ages ago! Why does this stuff always happen to me?

I finally decided I had to eat, and since I had nothing out and had eaten the last of my leftovers for lunch, I went over to Dad and Uncle Ken's to see if anyone was home. Thankfully, Dad, Jodie, and Jessa were eating pizza in the kitchen and watching (appropriately) Groundhog Day. I chatted with them for a little while, nibbling on a slice of pizza, but I'd sampled waaaayyy too much cake batter and wasn't really hungry. I told them about my college hopes; Dad said I really should consider how I'm going to get to school if the trains and buses aren't running. (But don't they always run, especially in a city?)

I went to Family Dollar to see if they had any frosting for my cake, but all they had was chocolate. I just got a homecoming card for Mom and the family in Cape May County. Went across the street to WaWa and couldn't decide on a treat that wouldn't ruin my diet, so I ended up putting Raspberry and Vanilla syrups into Coca Cola Zero. (I want to save my Weight Watchers points for Uncle Ken's Super Bowl party tomorrow night.)

Going online after I got home cheered me up a little bit. I especially enjoyed reading about all the funny bloopers that occurred to the members of the AdultKinz forum!

I really wish I was more outgoing. "Go join a book club!" Rose said in exasperation when I told her I was feeling lonely. She can say that. She wants to be a lawyer. She's being trained to talk to people and know what to say. I'm scared to death of clubs! I never know what to say to people, I live in fear of being stared at and made fun of, and what kind of clubs do single 28-year-olds who don't like bars join, anyway? I wish there was an easier way to meet people my own age and interests. I'm so scared there isn't anyone else in this area my own age with my interests. If I try to talk to Mom, she'll just remind me we've had this discussion a thousand times. I know we have, but...it doesn't stop the fear.

When You Scream, Nobody Hears You

It happened again.

I was going to Uncle Ken's to do my laundry. It was raining, but not hard. I put on flip-flops and got moving, figuring I wouldn't take too long anyway.

On my way down the steps from my apartment, I slipped. The bad knee turned, and the next thing I know, I'm sitting on the third-to-last step, screaming and crying, with a badly bruised right thigh, a knee shrieking in pain, a bare foot, and laundry everywhere. (Good thing I put that copy of Rolling Stone in a plastic bag. It cost me almost 8 bucks.)

I live in an apartment in the back of a house, on a dead-end side street in a small town in New Jersey. I kept screaming "No! No! Not again!" and sobbing. Like last year when I fell off my bike, no one heard me. No one ran to help me or to find out what the commotion was. No one offered aid, or asked what was wrong. No one was there. It was just me with one bare foot and a re-twisted knee, sitting amid a pile of (really) dirty socks, underwear, shirts, Acme uniforms, sheets, and pillowcases.

I did finally get to Uncle Ken's. He wasn't angry (he never is), but he did scold me for not telling him when I was going to come. I thought I was coming earlier, but I slept in and then it started pouring. I did get the laundry done; put my knee on ice while it ran, read Rolling Stone, and watched black and white sitcoms on TV Land.

(My favorite of what I saw was an extremely weird I Love Lucy episode with Lucy dreaming she was in Scotland, she and Ricky were in kilts, and Fred and Ethel were a two-headed dragon that was going to eat her. You've never lived until you've seen a Cuban man in a kilt attempting a Scottish accent and two middle-aged comedians in a very fat and very silly dragon costume with "his" and "hers" bibs. Oh, and it was a musical, too. Bizarre but hilarious. The Paris episode, with Lucy getting into trouble after buying counterfeit Francs, was also fun, though more typical of the show.)

I guess I'm still in shock a little. I can't believe this happened again. It's just like last year; I hurt myself, maybe for good, and no one helps me. Where are people when you need them? Uncle Ken was so doped up on his diabetes medication, he spent most of the time I was there zonked out. Everyone else is probably at work, on vacation, or hiding from the rain.

I'll call Rose and Mom after I get off. I had to get online now; normally I wait until around 8PM (I have dial-up and I prefer to wait until I'm less likely to get phone calls), but if I didn't get all this off my chest, I'd go insane.

I'm afraid to call Mom. I'm afraid she'll either get mad at me for doing this again and getting upset (she hates it when I cry) or worry too much. Rose has been sooo flaky lately, although I think part of that has to do with the wedding of one of her best friends a few weeks ago. I wonder if I could get her to come over here, instead of me going there. I think her dogs Toby and Kelsey and cat Bob are adorable, and her boyfriend Craig is a really nice guy, but her house is crazy with two puppies around. I don't think any of us would get much rest. Besides, I still owe her for helping me out last year. Maybe we could finally talk.

I just had Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band on. For me, Sgt. Pepper is nostalgia of another kind. When I hear it, I think not of the summer of 1967, but of the spring of 1993. I'd just gotten my first CD Walkman, which I plugged into my stereo and turned into a kind of portable CD player, and Mom bought me two CDs for my birthday. I think they both came from Vibrations, a now-defunct music store in North Cape May, since I'd seen both there - Sgt. Pepper and the 1952 original cast album for the Cole Porter musical Can-Can, best known for the debut of New York stage diva Gwen Verdon. Yes, I still have both. (In fact, I believe the copy of Can-Can I have has since gone out of print and is considered collectable.) I listened to them all summer long. I knew the Beatles in crazy Day-Glo military uniforms long before I knew them in plain gray suits, and I still prefer their later music (from about Revolver onwards) to their earlier stuff.

I just don't understand it. Why did God let this happen to me - once again right before a vacation that means so much? What is it the Gods (all of them) have against me? What am I going to do now? What about cleaning and my yoga and pilates? How will I lose weight if I hurt when I move? How will I even walk down the stairs again without dreading it?

What's A Girl To Do?

I'm so nervous. I hate doctors. I hate hospitals. I hate the antiseptic smells and having to be poked and prodded, and yet, I'm told it's "necessary," that I'm suddenly old and I need to be "checked out" because something "might" be wrong.

I don't want anything to be wrong. I'm scared to death that something is wrong, that I'm all wrong, that I'll turn into an old woman.