The Beat Keeps Going On...Right?

Yesterday I completed job application number four, and last night I received my first rejection notice from a job I had applied to a few weeks ago.  Okay, no big deal.  It was in Newtown Square anyway.  I couldn't help but still be a little bummed out.
I desperately need a new job.  I'm sitting here smoking Pall Malls because someone gave them to me.  I'm stressing over how I'm going to afford my car insurance this month.  Don't even get me started on the fretting I do over long term things like, "How the hell could I ever afford a house?  A child?  Are you kidding me?  How the hell do people do it?"
It's easy to get disheartened when you feel as if you don't meet a job's qualifications.  There's all kinds of things I think I would be good at, that I would enjoy doing, but upon reading the job posting's requirements/qualifications, I realize that no, it might not be for me.
So I apply anyway.  It can't hurt.  I am constantly tweaking my resume and making every and any type of networking connections I possibly can, and praying.
I wish the winds of change wouldn't just blow, I wish they would hit me with hurricane-force gusts, because living like this is killing me.
I know I'm not the only person my age going through something like this, the problem is, I don't personally know anyone who is.  Or if they are, they choose not to talk about it.  All of my friends seem to be doing pretty damn good.  Don't get me wrong - I am incredibly happy to see them doing well and living fulfilled lives.  I wouldn't want anything less for them.  And I'm not sitting around waiting for some kind of break or handout.  I'm prepared to work my ass off for it - I mean, I do that at my current job, no matter how miserable I am with it right now.
So I just need to keep plugging away, all the while keeping my eyes and ears open.

No One's Going to Take Away Your Guns, So Calm the Fuck Down

I don't usually get political on my blog - this is supposed to be a place for introspection with some comic relief thrown in, but this topic has been weighing on my mind for the past few days.
I am SO sick of hearing people bitch about the state of this country, lay the blame on the president, and whine and cry assuming that, because of new gun law proposals, the government is going to take their guns away by creating a countrywide ban.  Guess what people - it's not.  And if all you're going to do is sit on your ass and complain via Facebook, why not be more proactive and start contacting your state representatives and legislators?  Bet yet, get educated?
On a personal note, as far as the issues of mental health and gun control - I don't even know what to think.  I've never been a fan of guns, and more or less ambivalent when it comes to a person's right to own them.  The fact that my ex kept guns in the house solely for hunting purposes used to scare the shit out of me because sometimes it doesn't matter how safety conscious one is when it comes to handling them.
I've been following this whole clusterfuck closely and making sure my points are valid.  I watched President Obama state that no one is planning on taking away the rights of law-abiding, gun-owning citizens as I huffed and puffed away on the elliptical machine at the gym on January 14th.  However, as of today, he has signed 23 executive orders meant to tighten the reigns and curb gun violence, and I agree with them 100%.
If people did their research, maybe they would stop crying.  If people are law-abiding citizens, maybe they would calm the fuck down.  I am shocked at the outpouring of rage in regards to this topic coming from people I thought I knew.

I never knew you hunted with assault weapons.
I didn't think you had any reason to be concerned about having a background check run on you if you go to purchase a new firearm.
I'm surprised you managed to graduate high school without a full understanding of our country's Constitution and Bill of Rights, because your rants make it abundantly clear that you do not have one.
Because, let's face it, the chances of one being forced to protect their home, family, and livelihood while wielding a firearm, at least in Delaware, are slim.  Unless you live on 4th street or in Brookside, I don't want to hear it.  (The people I hear doing most of the complaining?  No, they do not live in crime- or drug- ridden areas of this state.  And to be honest, I felt safer in my own home than I ever did at my ex's, with his cache of firearms and hunting rifles.)
This is my opinion.  I do not demand that anyone agree with me.  This is my blog, and I write what I feel passionately about.  No one has to read it.  I do not shove my thoughts on gun control down anyone's throat.  I will, however, discuss it with people who feel the same way I do.  Unfortunately, I do not feel compelled to discuss it with those who think differently, because I have better things to do - like decide how or whether or not I am going to start writing letters to my state representatives and legislators inquiring as to why my paycheck has shrunk - rather than become a little dumber by listening to uneducated and uninformed people berate me with misinformation.

The Tale of the Dark-Haired Goldilocks

Okay so while driving home from the bar last night, something dawned on me.
If you know anything about me, you might have picked up on the fact that I have been (technically) single for almost five years.  Damn, has it been that long?  So I am accustomed to just doing my own thing.  If I'm in the mood for some dirty, no-strings-attached fun, it's at my fingertips.  If I'm in the mood for some strange, that's not usually hard to find either.  But lately, I haven't been bothered to partake in any of that, and I know why.
There's someone on my mind.  Someone I'd rather be with than my Drugstore Cowboy - you know, the one with the bedroom eyes, or my heavy metal lover - the one who blasted into my life out of nowhere around Memorial Day last summer.
Part of me is okay with this, part of me is terrified.
When I think about it, it's very similar to the story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears.  Except I'm a brunette and we're not talking about beds and porridge, we're talking about relationships.
The Drugstore Cowboy is 25 - too soft around the edges, immature, pretentious, seemingly intimidated by women, only ever calls after midnight and I was usually responsible for getting myself off.  Hey honey, the same two positions have gotten quite boring. 
The Heavy Metal Lover is 44 - a little too rough around the edges, with a been-there-done-that kind of attitude, not interested in relationships because he's run the gauntlet already, and while the sex was always fun and hot, he never really took the time to find out what blew my mind.
But one who is on my mind is 34 and he knows when to be soft and when to be rough, his sense of humor is a good mix of sarcastic and genuine, we share common ground on lots of things, and he takes the time to figure out what gets me off.  More like makes it his mission.  We compliment each other, in and out of the bedroom.  He texts me in the morning with a "Have a good day!" and a kiss.  We do things together.  I spend the night at his house so often that I have a toothbrush in the medicine cabinet and pajamas in his drawer.  I've met all of his friends and his entire family.  He gave me a Cuisinart food processor for Christmas.  There's a jar of Splenda next to his coffeemaker for me.  He constantly tells me how beautiful I am, he can't keep his hands off me, and the feeling is mutual.  He's out of town this weekend and asked if he would be seeing me tomorrow night when he gets back.  He's the one whose porridge is just the right temperature and the bed that is perfect for sleeping in.

Trying Hard To Stay Positive & Love My Life

Since one of my recent posts focused solely on negativity and the demise of the human race, I feel the need to write one with a positive vibe.
We all know that it has become hard to see the good in the world, but I usually don't have to look any further than within the circle of my family.  I realize how fortunate I am to be a part of it.  If I'm having a bad day all I have to do is look at my nephew and I'm reminded that good does exist in this world.  I mean, is there anything better than coming home from work to have a dance party in the kitchen with your brother and 3-year-old nephew after a rough day?
It's funny how it usually only takes something small in order to make me smile.  The other day I was very agitated because of work, and had to stop at the grocery store on my way home, which I didn't feel like doing after driving down three quarters of the New Jersey turnpike and then dealing with the tension and misery in the company office.  I ran into the store, grabbed the loaf of bread I needed for dinner and got in line at the self checkout lane.  As I'm standing there, trying not to look annoyed with the people in front of me, a gentleman said, "Excuse me miss, there's a lane open over here," and let me go in front of him.  I smiled and thanked him, and as I walked out the door, the kid who runs the carts told me to have a good evening.  I said the same to him with a smile.  It made me feel nice.  Some other things that restore my hope in humanity, or brighten up my day when I think about them -

• Occasionally someone lets me merge in front of them when I'm exiting 95 into the construction mess on 141.  I always make it a point to roll down my window and wave a thank you to them.
• Occasionally someone lets me in front of them when I have a jackass tailgating me on the highway.  I wave to them as well and return the favor when said jackass is then tailgating the person who was in front of me.
• On one of my jobs the other day, the principal of the school my coworker and I were at came down to the library to introduce himself and welcome us, even offering us coffee from his own personal stash.  The lady who was overseeing the shoot bought us lunch.  Such niceties are rare in my field, and my coworker and I were so appreciative.
• While getting gas at the Woodrow Wilson rest stop on the Jersey turnpike one day, as the attendant handed me my receipt and card back he said, "I hope the red jolly fat man brings you everything you ask for this year!"  I laughed and said, "Same to you!" with a big smile on my face.
• On the drive home from The Smashing Pumpkins concert, my brother and I laughed so hard the entire time that my chest and abs hurt for two days.  It's good to know that even though times are tough for the both of us, we can still act like kids, have fun, and laugh until we cry.
• Last weekend my house was filled with friends and family during the annual Evans Family Christmas Party.  The majority of guests have been a big part of my life since the day I was born.  They have been by my family's side for all of the good times and held our hands while we coped with tragedy, and to celebrate the holidays with them is a blessing I am so grateful to have.
• Little things like having someone get a whiff of my perfume and comment on how nice it smells, or when a rockstar tells me he wants to take me home to New York with him (you know, those little ego  boosters that we all like to hear every once in a while.)

These days we can't switch on the news without hearing of tragedy throughout the world.  It's depressing, it's heart-wrenching and seems to be never ending.  That's why I make it a point to take a break from social media and networking every once in a while and focus my attention on the things that are invaluable - the love I have for my nephew, my family and my friends and the time I get to spend with them.  Those things cannot be bought, but they can still be taken away from me in the blink of an eye, so I know never to take them for granted.

Communication Breakdown

I have put together all kinds of reasons in my head as to why some people in my life seem to think it's proper etiquette to not respond to simple questions.  I have platonic friends, and past and present lovers who do it.  My friends get off a little easier for this transgression, but the ones who have been in my bed and I in their's seem to be the repeat offenders.
That being said, what is UP with the lack of communication skills between human beings?  Now, if we have managed to bypass the bullshit and have had a successful friends with benefits type of relationship, whether in the past or ongoing, why is it acceptable to blow me off?  Your behavior leads me to make more than one assumption -

• You think "Hey, do you like The Smashing Pumpkins?" is the equivalent of me asking, "Will you marry me?"
• "Do you want to go to the gym with me?" is the equivalent of me saying, "Hey, come try to have sex with me even though you know I won't oblige."
• "Hey, can I get those panties I left at your house back, they're one of my favorite pairs" is the equivalent of me saying "I want to have your baby."

I've made these assumptions because I'm not a nag.  I don't text past and present lovers on a daily basis, for any reason.  I don't intend to take over your life and expect to check in on you 80 times a day.  Occasionally I go to concerts and I always like to invite anyone and everywhere to come with me.  Occasionally I get bored going to the gym alone.  And, Oh!  God forbid, I thought my inquisition might pertain to an extra-curricular activity you'd enjoy!  My bad.  I've asked you a simple question, probably not having had contact with you in over a week or so because there has been no need.  We've engaged in non-sexual activities, as friends, before, so when I ask you if you fucking like The Smashing Pumpkins, I deserve a fucking yes or no, not hearing it secondhand that you wouldn't go - even if you had the money - from my brother.  And since you're obviously over our friendship/fuckship/whatever-hell-it-was, but get along famously with my brother, maybe you can just give him those panties I left at your house.  But he would die.  And probably punch you.

Maybe it's just because you're a jerk and you belong in the jerk store - the one of which I seem to be the owner of.  That would be the simple explanation.

Please, please, please, I need some kind of justification for this behavior.  We are all on our phones 24/7 - I know you saw my text and I know you harbor some sort of affinity for me because you're blowing up my phone just hours after I texted you, yet it's not to answer whatever my question was.

Thanks for the aggravation, butthead. 

I Have No Doubt That This Is Gonna Hurt - MDTBL #3

So I've been going to the gym for about two weeks now.  No big deal, right?  Hey, for someone who has an easy time maintaining bad habits and hard time even starting good ones, it is a big deal.  Last Monday I met with a trainer and he gave me a rundown of what to expect if I decided I wanted to start a regimen, including a workout session.  The first day I had gone back to the gym and done some cardio I thought, Hmm, I guess I'm not as out of shape as I think I am.  I was wrong.  Dead wrong.  Just because I can sweat it out on the elliptical for a good 45 minutes and not feel like I'm dying doesn't mean I'm in any kind of shape.  The trainer took my weight and BMI - I weigh 167 pounds (I was only slightly surprised the number was that high, but I guess all the drinking I did over the summer caught up with me,) and my BMI is at 39%.  That means this body of mine is 39% fat.  Ew.  (Thank God I'm pretty.)  Apparently I'm in the danger zone - for my height and age, the ideal BMI range is 18-23%.  Okay, take the information, process it, file it away and keep moving forward.
Once we had gone over the basics, we went into the gym and this guy had me doing all kinds of funky exercises that definitely had me feeling like I was going to die.  Leg lifts?  Okay, not a problem.  Squats with the yoga ball?  I can handle this.  Jumping jacks?  No big deal...yes, yes this is starting to be a big deal....the mountain climber?  (You know, when you hit the ground and alternate bringing each knee up to your chest.)  Umm....you want me to do 30 seconds of these moves, continuously?  Fuuuu....
By the time he was done with me I was covered in sweat and completely out of breath.  But this is a good thing. I need someone teaching me these types of exercises and encouraging me to keep going when I want to quit.  People like me are the reason fitness and weight loss are billion dollar industries.
Let me stress, again, that I have no desire to be "skinny," to look anorexic, or to be a size zero.  Nor do I have any desire to have 6-pack abs or "ripped" muscles on any part of my body.  I mean, when the trainer asked me if I had any questions, the first thing out of my mouth was, "I'm not going to lose any of my curves, am I?"  I love my ass and hips - they're what I have going for me.  He laughed and told me no, the goal is to get me a bit leaner, more toned, and healthier.  Sounds good to me.
I just have to keep reminding myself that yes, this is going to hurt.  It's not going to be easy.  But it's going to be worth it when I can run up the 3 flights of stairs to my boy's apartment and not want to pass out once I get to his door.  It's going to be worth it when instead of being mildly aware of what my body looks like from certain angles during sex, I won't be concerned at all.  It's going to be worth it when I have more energy and even more confidence than I already do (which will be hard to top anyway.)
Yes, Dana, this is going to hurt.  But it's going to be totally worth it.

Time To Put On Some Big-Girl Panties and Deal With It (MDTBL, #2)

This past work season has been particularly taxing on me, and I've come to the conclusion that I just can't do it anymore and need to find a new job.  I can't be a school portrait photographer for the rest of my life.  I'm embarrassed to answer when I'm asked what I do for a living, and this job has taken my passion for photography and crushed it.  I don't feel like doing it for myself anymore, some days I don't even want to look at a camera.  The disadvantages of my job are overwhelmingly disproportionate to the benefits - I'm not guaranteed work 365 days a year, I travel long distances (I'm paid 42 cents for every mile I drive, but only after a 50 mile deductible & that's not enough to cover new tires, oil changes, and other basic vehicle maintenance,) dealing with school age children who have no regard or respect for their elders, their peers or themselves and are socially inept, dealing with staff and administrators who aren't much better than the children, bending over backwards to please these kinds of people only to be treated like dirt or an inconvenience, walking into my office to find everyone in a bad mood 90% of the time, being told I'm to trust my company with booking me hotel rooms only to be told at the last minute that nothing's available...the list goes on.
There are days I love my job, but they have become few and far between.  Not only am I the one behind the camera, but I am also out on the road representing my company.  I'm expected to walk into every job with a smile on my face and prepared to bend over backwards for the people who have hired us.  That usually doesn't come hard for me, but it's getting to be with every mile I drive, every building I walk into, every time I click the damn shutter on the camera.
The main reason I've become so discontent is because my job does not challenge me in ways that would make me a better employee and all-around person in the long run.  I face insignificant challenges every day that irritate me.  The bottom line is that I don't usually have to use my brain and I'm missing that.  Now granted, I'm going to miss the flexibility of my job - plenty of time off in the summer to sit by the pool or go to the beach and the half days I work while getting paid my full rate.  But when your full rate can't pay the bills, something needs to change.  I've spent my entire twenties partying my ass off and pissing away my money.  It's time to put on my big girl panties and get a big girl job with benefits and a 401K.
I've put my resume back together and have a few professionals going over it to help me polish it up.  Once that's done, (I'm hoping by the end of this week,) I will be cranking it out to anyone who will read it.
I have a feeling this particular road is going to be a long one and I'm a little terrified to start down it, but I'm excited to start a new professional life.