Beer With Bookseller Chick

Finally, a chance to get caught up with the most famous Portland blogger and also my pal and former assistant manager Linsey. Her celebrity status making even brief tete-a-tetes difficult to manage, and getting through her entourage with a message being almost impossible, it was a delight to be IM'd by L.J. Schmidt herself yesterday morning. You may also know her from her brilliant contribution to the 2007 Writers' Handbook, chumming with Erica Jong, Neil Gaiman, et al. Being so genuinely happy for her keeps me from wanting to pull her hair and teeth out with jealousy. (Jealous writers, a lethal gang indeed!)

Bringing some humble home-grown tomatoes as a feeble tribute, I spied her tall and willowy self on her way to the Bagdad and we grabbed a table on the sidewalk and proceeded to drink beer. This now being late afternoon, I should add. No bodyguards, no entourage, just we two and keepin' it real talk about life, the universe, and employment status, books, and how life is better after 25. I let her go on at length about that, agreeing with her but not wanting to be a wet blanket about the crowding 50 part of this new wisdom she's gained. There's wisdom in Hefeweisen, too, and you can get wiser and still drive home in a couple hours.

We picked the Bagdad because we are both doggie-watchers, and there's so many cute dogs walking down Hawthorne on nice sunny days, and we are both dog-less. *sigh* When she isn't doing a Houdini to get out of her bra while stuck in traffic, or shooting blue comicbook covers with friends from Darkhorse, my friend is looking for some post-retail gainful employment in the publishing industry, preferably here on the West Coast. We both had to laugh about how picky we've become after having some time off, "No nights, no weekends, no holidays, no cold-calling, no commute," and realized this will probably mean inventing some kind of work situation and maybe a limited part-time thing for moms with kids in school.

"Another round, please" as our illustrated waiter-man swept by, a DEVO shirt and faux-hawk de rigeur. He was nice and patient with our three hour squat. The woman behind us with bright cherry hair was flirting with him, and two amazingly clean and ruggedly-handsome men in their 30s sat down together, but my gay-dar wasn't working. They looked and smelled good, so I guess it didn't matter, really. We were there for the parade.

Again, Linsey and I decided we should start a business together, but with no capital and lots of ideas, it's a tad early to draw up a business plan. She doesn't want to return to modeling, and I don't want to be a boss lady anymore. I am not a Border Collie type now. We both hope that the writing thing will come through somehow, as Julia and Natalie say, "Keep writing, no matter what, keep writing!" so we both do. That thing about the money...it may be temping in our futures, a nice office-y thing for a few months at a time that we leave behind at 5:30 so we can go home and hermit ourselves with everything else we need to do that actually feeds our souls.

For me, for now, that's okay, I did a stint with The Corporate Thing already, but Linsey is early on her ascent arc and the heavens are before her. The COOL and BIG job is ahead of her, so I'm going to dust off the reference letters template I drafted earlier this spring for her, and find that logo stationery I stashed somewhere in February.

Good thing I left my entourage at home, so that none of them could see my softer side and use it against me later; projecting all this ruthless talent is hard work.

Hansel in the Woods with Pistachio Shells

It's days like this that I realize I don't know what I'm doing.
Having an amazing lunch with my director, hair let down, real-time talking, no bullshit back and forth, and I see even more clearly my time with this Company is over. Then I ask her some questions that sound so paranoid, she just looks at me with that disappointed let-down eyelids look, and I see I just blew the great lunch. Caramelized onions with rigatoni and basil garlic cream sauce and grilled chicken. Yee-gads. I may need to call her later this year to test the pre-holiday job pickings, but I hope not. There's so much to do to get to February and the free-lance life---then the sun came out, it stopped sprinkling, and we stood outside watching the trains go by, both amazed Christmas is actually behind us again.

-----flashback-----

This time last year, I was feeling the same way, only without the lay-off. I was sure I was on my way to the Artist's Life, make the treasure, uncover the beauty, craft the good goods, smile humbly, collect the money. Repeat in a leisurely and profitable fashion. I began locating the raw materials, I sketched, I researched, I planned, I web-surfed, Googled, stalled and brainstormed with everyone. But it was a damp box of matches. And the sideways glances from those in my immediate nervous circle did not buoy me with confidence or validation. Much sighing, more stalling, then the deep sink into premium ice cream or beer.
One of the best summers of my life was shared on my front porch with my landlady, every dog-walking neighbor, baby-in-tow or no, drop-by folks and planned guests with ale, grills, glasses, bottles and sooooooo much sun. Spectacular Portland summer spent thoroughly. I knitted an entire Noro wool cardigan sweater while tanning. And as I crept into late August and the dimming of the eternal day, came the waves of bruised gray dread that ahead lay another holiday build into madness and no escape from the runaway train.

------we're back-------

Oh dear, so bleak. I found some strength, and submitted to the ride, came out again alive (always so startled) and this time I lost my job at the end. Whoa. The train slowed and threw me off. I know it's a good thing, but the bumps and scratches need some time.

Selfishly, I stole an employee from another division a few years ago, and we have been the Genius Bitch Posse, intent on world domination, promoting trashy culture consumption, and making sure we had a good grip on the fun factor of day to day doing business. We revived vaudeville retail to rave reviews. Today while discussing future plans and buy-outs, I felt sick, suddenly realizing how much I will miss working with her everyday in the asylum. She'll be fine, whole life ahead etc etc, but our lab-o-laffs is shutting down. The best thing about this Company has always been the people in the vortex with me, and we reach escape velocity to fling away across country, back to school, into relationships, arranged marriages, "real jobs", away in every possible direction. The great thing about Portland is that slingy boomerang phenomenon---beads on a singing wire.