This is what I looked like yesterday – not attractive in the
least. My pants are too short, my “badge
of honor” sweatshirt isn’t fitted at all.
But it was enough to have me harassed at a level I’ve never experienced.
And I’m at the point where enough is enough. Let me paint the picture for you: it was about 11:32 a.m., there was a break in
the rain, so I took the dogs out – left the house and started walking on the
sidewalk (in front of an elementary school) of a four-lane road. I’m walking at a quick pace because my
14-pounder likes to walk the edge of the sidewalk – and this makes me very
anxious as cars go about 40 miles per hour down the road. A car pulls into the median and the driver, a
young man starts yelling at me.
Immediately I felt uncomfortable. I can’t remember his exact words – but he was
saying sexually explicit things at me. I
pointed to my ear and shrugged, “I can’t hear.” My lie didn’t stop him. He persisted.
I repeated myself. He pulled off and I was reliev…
Lynyrd Skynyrd is coming to a local casino in a few
weeks. A few weeks ago, the ads featuring
“Sweet home Alabama, Lord, I’m coming home to you” aired on the TV. Those lines danced through my head for a few days, and they
were mighty present when a friend/consultant said, “Oh, hey, we (the firm she
works for) are up for a job in Alabama.” We were at lunch and my new hire –
just four days into her job – was with us. I tried to play it cool, “Well, let
me know if you need anything.” A week later airline tickets and hotels were booked for a
quick trip to Mobile for me and the co-president of the public relations firm –
a company I have wanted to work at for two years. We planned and interviewed
and hoped. A few weeks later - and Sweet Home, I’m coming. And this
time, I’m not leaving. I have been busy manifesting things for the last few months:
alternative work schedules, good seats at fancy restaurants, new clients, etc.
For a year or so, I’ve been wondering how I would land a job where I w…
James Simpson was released from jail today. I really don’t care. I kind of
forgot he was in there. If I cared, I would have been shocked that it’s been 9
years since he went behind bars. But I don’t care about OJ. What I think
about how much the world has changed in that space of time. In 2008, Obama was starting his first term, Facebook was taking the place of MySpace, and the Spill hadn't happened. I reflect on how much my world has changed: a few jobs, that White House Fellows thing, numerous dog health scares and two road trips across the country. I think about these things because I don’t care about OJ and his 9 years. I care about me.
This shouldn’t be shocking new to anyone who knows me. Since
he’s been locked up, I’ve moved from Huntsville to the beach to Huntsville to
Seattle for a disastrous relationship. Moved four times in my three years in
Seattle and then moved back to Alabama almost two months ago. The
move back happened unexpectedly and quicker than I thou…