"Ring, ring, Voices ring, with a happy song, anybody can be a singer...."

"Young Folk", 42 years after disbanding

*grin*..... I waited for it for almost a whole year....planned it endlessly in my head, worried that something would go wrong, or worse, that it wouldn't live up to my expectations.  That no one else involved would care as much as I did, that it would matter far more to me than it did to anyone else.  By the time mid-July rolled around, I was bouncing around on my toes, I was so excited.  Friends at work HAD to be sick of listening to me talk about it, but kindly smiled and nodded sweetly as I talked about the details and plans....

We started out mid-Monday, headed for Newport, OR.  There is no such thing as a bad day at the coast, and the evening's sunset proved that. Lovely hotel, for a Best Western, and a great night's sleep - the beach was right outside the door, so waves lulled us to sleep and coaxed us awake.

Tuesday sent us farther down the coast, with several stops along the way to hike up to Heceta Head Lighthouse and enjoy gorgeous views from the highway.



We stopped at Bandon, known for its golf courses (yawn) and an adorable "Old Town". Our destination that evening was Brookings, a sleepy little coastal town with not much to recommend itself, but again, a nice beachfront room with gulls so tame they lined up outside the porches waiting for suckers to throw food at them. And they did... (we did not).

Wednesday brought unexpected adventures...acting as tour guide, I suggested we throw caution to the wind and take a detour to Crater Lake, one of the most jaw-droppingly stunning wonders of the country. What I did not do was consult the weather report. Although the coast had been great, despite rain on Wednesday morning, there was a small but potent storm moving northeast across Oregon....which quite effectively obliterated Crater Lake with fog (funny, I could swear there was a lake down there last time we were here...) and dropped the temperature to about 40 degrees. So much for that - the lodge was packed, with people huddled around the fireplaces with their toddies and their chess games....

So, we headed back to that evening's destination - Ashland, home of the Oregon Shakespeare Festival. I'm embarrassed to say that despite living here for 24 years, we never made it to Ashland, much less the Festival. We walked around the historic district for a couple hours, caught an outside performance open to the public, had dinner (and an AWESOME Riesling!) at a darling Irish pub, and decided we would come back in the morning to see more.  Much quieter in the morning, and we were able to get into the actual Shakespearean theater, which is very cool - they'll even rent you blankets for evening performances! -

Once a performer, always a performer....

Needless to say, the ham in me couldn't resist; and of course, I got severely reprimanded - "Ma'am, this is a working stage, you can't be there!"  And as soon as Tim took the picture, I jumped off!

As we walked through town, we checked out an old, historic hotel - Ashland Springs - whose restaurant we passed the night before, and for which we thought we weren't quite dressed appropriately (and in the NW, that's saying a lot) - talk about gorgeous! Reminiscent of Casablanca! The lobby was to die for, complete with Audubon drawings lining the columns - just amazing. Sure wish I could have seen an actual room!

Kept looking for Bogart to come around a corner...

All of this was but the appetizer to a long-anticipated banquet...for me to endure a six-hour drive from Ashland through some pretty desolate territory (once you get past Mt. Shasta, it goes downhill pretty quickly - literally) and tinder-dry (if not outright dead) hillsides, it meant that I would do anything to get to Tahoe. We arrived at the cabin about 6:30, and I was jumping out of the car before Tim had even turned off the ignition.  I could hear the laughter of my friends and couldn't get up the stairs fast enough - never mind that I'd never seen this place before and had no idea where I was going! And then, there they were.....Vickie, her husband Paul, Fitz, John and his wife Lisa....although we had been together two years previously at a wedding, seeing them again was the best tonic ever. The next day, Gang #2 arrived - Robin & Steve, and Jim.  Seven of our original group, which was a pretty terrific turnout considering the distance many had to navigate.

Now we're smart enough to stay out of the sun...

Well, most of the time, anyway...

It's a lot colder than it looks...

The days were spent at the private beach, pool, and restaurant that came with the house, and the waterfront bar with Rum Punch that went down way too easy! Tough life! Perfect weather, a work of art for a lake, and non-stop laughing and catch-up on our lives - our jobs, our kids, grandkids, remaining parents, etc.  Amazing how connected we remain, not needing much in the way of explanation of who/where/what we were discussing. And how much of our past we had never felt brave enough to share, but now, in the comfort and safety of adulthood, we found an even deeper connection - our successes, failures, doubts, and fears were discussed with no worry that they would be met with anything but understanding and love. And we have been lucky enough to choose spouses who not only understand but share our camaraderie, and are amazingly tolerant of endless discussion of events where they were not a participant.

The nights were reserved for singing - we had rearranged the furniture to accommodate John's drum set and Fitz's keyboard.  After some really exceptional culinary efforts directed by Paul, and enough wine to grease the wheels, we would pick up guitars and try to remember chords, words, and tempos of the songs we sang in church, and in our hang-out time.  Not always successful - Robin & I frequently disagreed about what key a song should be in, but that's nothing new! :) But it was absolutely a blast - I was concerned that the neighbors might come pounding on the door - we didn't exactly sound as spectacular as I remembered; we were missing several male voices that were our trademark, and without mikes, our voices were drowned out by the drums and keyboards. But the feeling was there. The best - and I do mean VERY best - part was that our incredibly gifted lead guitarist, Jim, had finally decided that he would actually sing. Not once in our four years as a group did we ever hear one note from him.  No way, no how.  Not gonna happen. Again, that teenage thing.... Well, he more than made up for lost time. Now, he's not only a fabulously talented musician, he sings, too!

I love these people more than I could ever convey. We've had our issues, to be sure, but in the end, we are tethered by love, memories, ridiculous jokes, and music. ALWAYS the music. That music will always fill my mind and my heart, and my mind's eye will see Jim playing lead on Landslide, Fitz doing the opening riff on Brown Eyed Girl, Vickie doing her tambourine thing on just about everything, and John adding the most amazing drum runs. I would wager that most people I know have never enjoyed the kinds of experiences I've had with these guys - and I continually get on my knees and thank God that I've been so blessed.

"For United We Stand, divided we fall,

 and if our backs should ever be against the wall, we'll be together..."

Vickie, Robin, Steve, Sharon, Fitz, Jim, Lisa, John

"Don't It Always Seem to Go, That You Don't Know What You've Got 'til It's Gone...."

Gee, it's only taken me 4 months to get logged back in to this thing! Google is on my you-know-what list.... But the remaining areas of life are just spiffy, thanks - in sharp contrast to March, when all manner of hell was breaking loose in the workplace, I am now in a much better situation - back with my homies in Hem Malignancies, working with people I know and love well, who wanted me to return, who are thrilled that I'm back (not as thrilled as I am, bucko!), and doing things with a purpose. A long and ugly story, to be sure, but after focused efforts I left Dante's Inferno in late April and began here May 1. I'm sleeping better, eating better, I'm happier, more relaxed.....sometimes you gotta get away before you realize how good you had it. Boy and howdy....

"Big Girls Don't Cry....."

I am a big girl. I am an adult. I am talented, intelligent, creative, gregarious, and passionate.  I am also a wimp.  I am allowing a bully to get the best of me at work, allowing her to denigrate my abilities and erode my self-confidence. And it has to stop. Moreover, I need to approach my attempts to find something new from a position of strength rather than desperation.  If only I knew how to do that.

I have been in enough applicant pools in my lifetime to realize that there is only so much one can control, and that ultimately, everything happens for a reason. Sometimes it takes a while to figure out exactly what that reason is, but I know that obsessive attempts to control the outcome does nothing but create stress.  Which is where I am now.  Within the space of 10 days, I will have interviewed for 3 positions.  I am petrified that the one I REALLY want will not be the one to offer me a position, because it's taking the longest to get going.  I feel paralyzed by the possibility that I will be faced with a choice I don't want to make. Even worse, that NONE of them will make an offer, and I'll be stuck where I am!  Rationally, I know that these three are not the only possible positions out there, but I want out of where I am SO badly, that I am in danger of making a knee-jerk decision.  The times in my life when I have done that have had disastrous consequences, and I'm in no hurry to repeat that scenario.

What puzzles me is how I wind up in these situations to begin with.  To do it in one's twenties or thirties is understandable; it's part of the growth process and career development.  But I've waved the long good-bye to those days a long time ago, and it's still happening.  To be fair, my current position was fine until about a year ago, when a new vice-president and her management style became clearly at odds with the atmosphere I was hired into. Then, one of my hiring managers decided it was time to take her PERS and retire in July, which caught me off guard.  As much as I knew I would miss her, I wished her well, and looked forward to what a new person would contribute to our office.

Then, by late fall, another senior administrator in the office, whose dry wit and perpetual energy were a delight, decided he could no longer abide the chaos, tension, and negativity in our administration, and announced he would be gone by January 1.

My remaining manager, with whom I enjoyed a great rapport and working relationship, was trying her very hardest not to strangle the VP, and we relied on one another to keep our spirits up and sense of humor intact. Then, one December morning at a staff meeting, she announced she would be leaving at the end of the month. We'd both been looking, and both knew that. Nevertheless, her announcement caught me by surprise because she had nothing waiting in the wings.  Now THAT'S desperate - to leave a high-level, lucrative, influential role where she was highly respected and loved, for unemployment.  Which meant that I was left holding the bag.

She's been gone for two months now, and I am perilously close to the ledge.  The atmosphere is downright toxic, the tension is palpable, and I come home emotionally exhausted and spent, only to wake up and dread returning for one more day. So, my task is to keep myself focused and positive, and not to define myself by the results of these interviews.  What's the worst that could happen? That I get no offers? Or, I get fired, which might be a blessing in disguise. I will ultimately land on my feet, and I must keep reminding myself of that fact. I know that karma rules, and I will reap what I have sown. I wouldn't mind a few prayers and good wishes tossed my way, though.....Stay tuned......