Posted 5:52 PM by Michelle

I am on an email list with about 20 college friends. These friends were not mine in college; they belong to Sean and Ian. I've met some of them over the years, but most were relative strangers to me when I was invited to join. I've been a part of it now for five years, and just last month finally met the last member. It is a group of thinkers and artists, without necessarily defining themselves as such, and even when I don't have time to write back, my life is richer and cooler and funnier because of this list.

Some time back, a member decided he was going to quit the list. This man was not the most popular guy around, but I didn't have any real feelings on the matter because I had never met him. But it was the way he quit that gave credit to the others' opinion of him. He wrote an email to the list saying that he was off to bigger and better things, that being part of this list was "getting in (his) way" and "slowing (him) down". As if we were a bunch of drooling losers filling his inbox with forwards of blonde jokes and African bank account scams. So he dropped off, never to return except, once or twice, to plug shows he was doing. I believe I met him some time later but it was during the last fuzzy Los Angeles year and everything looked like solid poop to me. I don't remember the meeting.

I was thinking about this today as I was reading some of Ian's old blogs. There is no doubt that he is the better writer, and really, the better thinker. He also has the benefit of not just five years, but also of education and more practical experience in writing than I. When he was writing Wednesday's Child in the Daily Tar Heel, I was wearing sequins and dancing and singing bad Bette Midler songs onstage somewhere in California. I was writing all the time, and I had a terrific editor in my mom, but I didn't focus on it nearly as much as I could have.

I was also thinking about my blog versus the novel I'm working on. How will keeping this blog affect my commitment to my book? Which brings me back to the issue of quitting my job. One of my managers, who I can now say can be a real toad, told me he didn't understand why my job at USC kept me from writing. Apart from time spent both at work, and exhausted from work, I tried to explain something to him: The main reason I'm leaving my job is that if I don't, I will not succeed at anything else. I am reasonably challenged, very successful, and make enough money (almost) to keep a roof over my head. I have tried and tried to work out a schedule that allows me to work on the other passions in my life and it hasn't worked. It hasn't worked for three years. So I am going to find a job that I will not take home with me, and one that requires as little time as possible to make ends meet. And one that I don't love so I will be inspired to do my other things.

Which brings me back to my blog. It is a very selfish thing, something entirely for myself, in a way, as it has mostly replaced my journal writing. In this forum, I can be good or brilliant or average or bad and it doesn't change my life one way or another. I am not proud of anything I do that is average, but this allows me to write every day, to put words together on a page. I can be scattered or irrelevant but at least I'm writing. And so, back to my original thought, I was wondering if this blog, where I'm neither successful nor unsucessful, where I can let my mind go in any direction, where I can vent my anger or expose my broken heart or talk about my butt (or my cervix!), will this affect my other writing. Will it "get in my way" or "slow me down".

But I've realized what that friend on my email list obviously did not. That list makes us think, exercises our brains, challenges our views, and lets us make plans with twenty people at the click of a button. This blog will not tell me where to get drinks tomorrow night, but it is writing, and writers write. I will continue to be varying in my brilliance and mundanity (ha HA! And make up words on the way!) and every day, put more words together, work that muscle harder.

I've quit my job, the opening of my new job has just been postponed to the third week of this month, my heart is still a mess, I can't afford yoga, I can't inspire myself to get on my bike in the morning, I don't have enough money to pay the rent, and I have to have a colposcopy and biopsy on my cervix this Tuesday because my most recent PAP was worse than the one just a month ago. There ya have it. That's my life. What can I do? Sit down and do this, once a day. Write.

Posted 8:19 PM by Michelle

A man I somewhat respect said this to me today: "Leap, and the net will appear." Now that just may be new agey twaddle, but it also might be comforting advice. Remember that scene in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade? Where Indy has to take a leap of faith to get to the Holy Grail? He lifted his foot to step into the abyss and my heart stopped beating. When he put his foot down, and found a bridge that was there all along but perfectly camouflaged, I just couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe that he had so much faith, and then I couldn't believe that the bridge was there the whole time. It was just too much to take in.

I have a net of sorts, this job at the East Village bar, but it is net bound with what looks like really frayed, weak thread, and I wonder how much weight it will hold. My first invisible net showed up at work today when a good friend gave me the number to a catering company. My friend has worked with them many times, said they are a family operation and wonderful, and that I could work as much or as little as I'd like. God knows I've catered before. My uncle had a catering company and every younger Williams child cut their teeth in the hospitality world right there in Covina, California.

On a whole nother note, I'm supposed to go on a date this weekend with that guy I met walking home from the blackout. I can already smell the doom. We talked on the phone at length tonight, and he seems like a really nice, slightly bizarre, very intelligent and caring human being. But... and even my brothers can't fault me for this "but"... he's not funny. He's just not funny. It's what it comes down to, in the end. My brothers will claim, and think it's simply hilarious, that the only men I find attractive are a) alcoholics and b) covered in tattoos and c) abusive and small minded and d) do something really dangerous on a daily basis like ride a motorcycle or choose not to eat so he can get drunk more easily.

That's just a really hysterically funny joke about me, right? The fact is, I have dated men with some of these qualities, and one had most of them, but there is a reason I've been single for almost three years. I'm not going to choose like that again. Men like that, men who are childish and users and abusers and "dangerous" and foolish are a dime a dozen and no longer exciting to me. I want a man who is none of those things, who is kind and cool and smart and thinks I'm the best thing since spice racks. But I also want him to be funny. Being funny is not making random jokes that, while possibly amusing, berate or put down random persons or person. Being funny means being engaging and observant and sincere and self-depricating and gently acknowledging the silly parts about the people around you. Or not so gently, but with no real ill will. Being funny goes so much deeper than jokes. I've been around funny my whole life, inside my family, and it is something I won't give up. I can't. I want someone who is sweet and cute and funny and brilliant.

Won't you tell him please to put on some speed.

Posted 10:12 PM by Michelle

Tonight alternated from tolerable to really really freaking sucky, and I am exhausted from simply trying to hold it together.

A good friend at work was accused of stealing by a new manager. This manager accused him before asking him, and without realizing that his was an incredibly common mistake (putting a bottle of wine meant for table 41 on table 42's check. The table numbers were changed recently and all of us are screwing it up). I brought this up when I gave my notice because it really upset me. Well the manager I told went to the GM and to the accusing manager, but all of this happend Sunday night after I left. Accusing manager then made life hell for my friend all during that shift. I get back Tuesday afternoon, but all my friend tells me is he wished I had come to him rather than to management, that it has strained relations, etc., etc. I apologize, tell him it really upset me and that we had talked about my bringing it up the other night... the other night being midnight after drinking since 7. I feel bad, tell him so, get over it.

Well then my other good friend brings it up again as we are doing sidework. She tells me that I ruined his night, he was miserable, she felt terrible for him, i.e. I am a terrible person who thinks only of myself, blah blah blah. Finally, I tell her that I doubt she felt more terrible for him than I did, and ran up to the linen closet so I wouldn't bawl on the floor.

I have two things to say about this: 1) I am human. I am fallable. I screw up, I live with my foot in my mouth. I am WELL aware of the times I act poorly, and really don't need to be reminded or berated for actually having faults. 2) I am tired of it. I'm tired of screwing up, tired of being broke, tired of needing fixing, tired of being out of control, tired of feeling bad, tired tired tired. Two more things to say: 3) I'm doing the best I fucking can. I'm changing my life, for better or worse, and I'm going to make the best choices possible in every moment. And 4) Some people are exhausting as friends. The friend who brought up my horrible, terrible deed tonight is someone that it seems I can't live up to. I'd rather let her go then try to be someone I'm not, i.e. an infallable machine. Christ.

I've picked up a shift or two over the next couple of weeks, and have two nights of training for my new job as well. I'm trying, god, I'm trying to be gentle with myself and only figure out the next minute rather than even the next week. It's overwhelming, my life is overwhelming right now, and I've simply got to stop beating myself up.

Posted 7:21 PM by Michelle

Ian, Tess, Kellie, Laurie, and I went shopping today. It started as "antiquing" in Hudson- a practice not appealing to me at all, but something I forget until I'm in the middle of it- but then we headed to a ginormous supermarket to really spend some money. My New York family already has a plan in place in case of some major bad event in the city. What we also now have is enough food and supplies to last us for weeks in case there is no access to public goods and services. Tessa downloaded a list from redcross.org that listed the best foods and goods to have on hand in case of an emergency, and the five of us explored both the supermarket and a Target, lists in hand, until we had everything we thought we needed for now. Of course we also got chocolate syrup and chips and snacks, which we dubbed the "fun" food. Most likely it will also be the food that mysteriously disappears when more than one person sleeps over (and if the chocolate syrup has already made its way to the kitchen, well, don't look at me).

It was actually an exhausting day, and maybe not exactly how I would have chosen to spend Labor Day, but it was necessary and at least I had a small part in making it happen. This will be my refuge, both in emergency and also when I have a weekend off, and I am willing to do whatever Ian and Tess need, to work for my welcome.

I'm still trying to figure out this whole quitting my job thing. When I've been away, for a long weekend or a summer, I haven't missed it, and I think that will carry through. It's scary. However, there is a list of things that this new job, or rather, leaving the last one, might make possible.

Speaking of lists, I've decided to make one of the things I want to accomplish in the near (relative) future, in no particular order. Some are more important than others, but I feel all of them are attainable. Well, maybe. I'm just making this list up. I'll see how I feel at the end.

1) Create a writing space in my apartment, with an inviting desk, great chair, in front of one of my parlor windows

2) After November 1st, find a new, larger, cheaper place to live, even if it is with roommates, in an environment conducive to writing

3) Create a writing schedule: every day, either x amount of pages or x amount of time spent in front of my computer, in order to train myself that this is actually what I'm doing

4) Eventually get a lighter laptop that will encourage me to bring said computer into the city on my bike so I can write anywhere

5) Search for writing gigs

6) Publish as soon and often as possible so I won't have to work until 4 AM as often

7) Spend weekends with my family, upstate or in the city

8) See my friends, from work and from my other lives, on a regular basis

9) Hire a personal trainer to help me get back in shape

9) Open myself to the possibility to a long, lasting, good relationship with a man who is emotionally and physically available


Wow, of all of them, number 10 seems the most elusive. It is also one of the things over which I have complete control. Guess I'll have to work hard on that. Number 9 is already in the works. Don't know if it is the best financial choice but it is definitely a good one.

The farm is haunted. Tomorrow, back to the city, and back to one of the last shifts I'll work at my current job. This is going to be the hardest time, I think, committing myself to something, even for a night, to something I've already decided to leave behind. I have to believe this is the best choice I've made in a long, long time.

Posted 7:18 PM by Michelle

I got off the train, climbed into the Land Rover, turned on the satellite radio to find Dexy's Midnight Runners' "Come on Eileen" blasting on the 80's station. I pulled out of the station, turned the first corner and the moon was rising just to my left- a low, long, lazy crescent moon. And I felt great. Two hours before, I sat my manager down at my restaurant, and said, "I'm giving you my two weeks." "Where are you going?" he asked, confusion spreading over his face. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to write my book."

Now that is not the only reason for quitting my job, but it was the first thing out my mouth, so I'm going to go with it. This is one of the scariest things I have ever done. My restaurant has been a part of my New York life since the moment I settled. It was there, on 9/12/2001 that I realized I could galvanize large groups of people to give their time and goods for service. It was there that they rearranged my schedule so I could train to be an EMT. I've met a handful of people on the staff that I hope to carry with me always. It was there that I learned that it was okay not be loved by everyone. It was that place that allowed me to become more of who I am.

But it is also the kind of place where people got a job at 21, thinking it would support an acting career, and yet TEN YEARS LATER they are still there, having giving up even saying they were an actor. It is a place where you have just enough fun and make just enough money to break even, while actually going nowhere. It is a place where I am wildly successful doing something I don't want to be doing. It is a place that, post 9/11, the money does not come close to justifying the excessively hard work. And more so now than ever, it is fractured, divided, leaderless, and yet resistant to change. I could stay. I was only casually thinking about leaving. And then somehow ended up speaking the words that cut me loose from the only sure thing in my life.

Will I like this new job? Will the place even hit? Is there real money to be made? Will I hate the hours? In the end, it doesn't matter. I will give it a shot, try my best, and if it doesn't work, do something else. It is going to be a hard month both emotionally and financially, and were it not for a windfall earlier in the month I would already be out on the street. I can make this work, I will make this work. Dammit.

As for my book... it's time. Weird to even write about writing a book but... but I'm going to create a new writing space in my apartment, and as soon as my schedule calms down, dedicate some time to spend in that place. I lose a double tomorrow, which is two shifts gone from next week's paycheck. But... so many other things to do. My mind is spinning. I think I'll go drown it in cable.