Tag Archives: broke

Winter Blues

WARNING: Rant Alert!

Sometimes maintaining the eternal optimist stance is exhausting. Today I feel…depressed. I hate it when people talk about their depression. Everyone is constantly sharing their ever-changing moods on Facebook — along with their plates of food, pet antics and other annoyances — from elation to thoughts of suicide. Instead of making those emotions more immediate (or at least important) it merely minimizes them. How serious can your suicidal thoughts be if you’re broadcasting them to a thousand of your closest friends? Seriously depressed people don’t blather on about it. They just…are.

And yeah, no one wants to hear it. I certainly don’t. I don’t even want to hear about my own depression. Don’t want to feel the feelings or write about them. Yet here I am. So let’s try and turn it around, shall we?

The weather has been depressing. Dark and cold. But I love winter. Rather, I love seasons, as in the changing of. The same old sunny days, day after day, is maddening, which is why I find California so intolerable. But it’s the actual change that I enjoy. When all of a sudden you need to throw on a jacket. Or you can take out that awesome scarf again and rummage around to see if you still have gloves that match. A few weeks into winter and those gloves have gotten grimy. The scarf has been snarling your hair. And you’re ready for the next season. Well, I am. They have. And it has been.

I don’t have a stereo. So I turn on the TV for background noise. After a while the “Tena Twist” ads and the incessant insistence that THERE IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH YOU implied by all these commercials really wears me down. I need a drug to get up and move, another to go to sleep. One to cure my depression and still another to augment that, since those damn antidepressants apparently don’t work all that well. My lack of need for prescription pharmaceuticals is a disadvantage in the random surveys I fill out, hoping that I’ll be called in for a paid focus group. Have I been diagnosed with this, that or the other? No. I am perfectly healthy. And evidently the only 53-year-old in the world who isn’t taking anything for…anything.

OKCupid has become a necessary evil, one populated with smiling, shriveled old men who “are lovin’ life” and “enjoying a good glass of wine” clicking on my profile. And not even emailing me. Is this what it’s come to? The emails that do come? They’re either from a 23-year-old who wants to live out his mommy fantasy, a non-entity with a grey heart where his photo should be or some walrus mustached truck driver from Montana. I. Just. Can’t.

Over the weekend I worked a checkpoint for the Idiotarod. It was the warmest, fuzziest shopping cart race ever, with the added feature of assisting businesses affected by Hurricane Sandy. There were dozens of adorable 20-somethings, possibly a few 30-somethings, all of whom I would’ve been seducing in my younger days. But, uh, yeah. I ran into a gentleman who friends have intimated “has a crush on you” and…nothing. After a few words in line for the toilet, he seemed far more interested in chatting up someone else, someone…younger. A week ago I was speaking with a woman who had spoken to a professional matchmaker. The most depressing part of our conversation? This quote from the matchmaker: “Women in their 40s don’t get many dates because men in their 40s, 50s, even 60s all want to date women in their 30s.” Uh-huh.

I am not happy being old. NOT. HAPPY. I do NOT WANT to be old. I know everyone says it’s better than the alternative but I’m not so sure it is. When I think like this I try to remind myself that I want to be around to see my sister’s kids get older. But do I? The eldest is already distancing himself. Will the next three do the same? What else do I have to look forward to? My High Holy Days? Let’s see: I can’t afford to fly to New Orleans for Mardi Gras. Santa Con has become such a nightmare than no one wants to participate anymore. The Mermaid Parade seems to be moving in the same frat-tastic direction. Halloween was cancelled this year. And Burning Man has become nothing more than a job.

I’m working on an event and booking people is so problematic that I’m not sure I even want to bother. All for what? Being a nervous wreck the entire night, worrying about making enough cash to pay people. And maybe making, like, 20 bucks. Bah.

I have a job. One day a week. I barely make $200 for eight hours of work. I was hoping to land a shift at another neighborhood bar but I guess they went with someone else, someone…younger. I go 48 hours without leaving the house on a regular basis. The only thing that’s been saving me is a glue gun and battery operated tiaras. Ack. And fuckety-fuck-fuck.

Random Thoughts

I got home last night. And not a moment too soon! I have many ideas percolating and loads of things to accomplish, including taking down my Christmas tree. For now, some random thoughts:

San Francisco…
• The perfect place for sparkly old broads.
• So much sun and blue sky it makes me want to smack someone.
• Totally overrun by self-righteous bicyclists. One guy was weaving down Valencia Street, at night, no light, practically taunting me to run him down. Dude, bike vs. car? Car wins! Idiot. Use the fucking bike lane. And get a light! Grrr….
• Having to DRIVE everywhere is literally a buzzkill. Even within the city, it’s difficult not to drink and drive. Cabs are impossible to find (most places) and when you call them, sometimes they don’t even show up. Parking is so hard to find (also, most places) it makes having a (somewhat necessary) car even more inconvenient. Making me SO glad to be living in NYC!

How did my bank account balance get so low? And why the hell did my bank decide to start charging me $10 a month if my balance falls below $1500? Again, the poor get penalized… I am literally overcome by my bills. I owe thousands of dollars that I simply don’t have. It sure would be great to get ahead. Or at least be breaking even.

Family can be really depressing. If you have friends who are negative or otherwise bring you down, you can phase them out of your life. Though I suppose the same could be said for family, it isn’t quite as easy or even a viable long-term solution. My mom can be so difficult to spend time with. All she talks about is my sister’s divorce — or my cousin’s. Doom and goddamn gloom.

I made name stickers for my sister’s kids in Sign Shop and she actually put them on the kids’ doors! In her brand new, freshly renovated million dollar Presidio Heights home! AWESOME!

I’m really grateful for my health. And even more happy that I don’t suffer from insomnia! Not being able to sleep sounds miserable. My bed is so comfortable, my plushy Cashmina sheets are so snuggly and my adorable dog is such good company, I love going to bed! And I’ve felt blissfully sleepy doing so recently. Mmm!

My two most recent emails on OKCupid? Hilarious!

hello sweet mature tall thunder ! [Tal]l thunder? That’s almost as awesome as “really shiny”!!!]
your smile is a refreshing breeze and made me soft . [Uh, SOFT? I don’t think “soft” is a good thing…]
would like to know you a little more if its ok for you ……… 
wish you a week as lovely as your irresistable smile ! 
regards from istanbul [Istanbul? Not Constantinople? Isn’t that, like, the definition of “geographically undesirable”?]
attila 

sexy body… love the pics. you seem to be a free spirit. would love to hookup 🙂

Awesome. Except this guy is 29 years old. Sigh. And a recent “interests” segment on a SeniorPeopleMeet profile: my grand kids my kids also fishing. Yup, he sounds like a real laugh riot!

Okay, back soon with something more substantial…