Battling Difference

I'm not writing on my computer. I'm not using my trusty Artist Edition laptop with the funky designs on the outside that makes me feel creative. I'm not in "my" room. And I don't like how the keys on this keyboard are raised so high that my fingers are scared of getting a severe cramp.

This is my metaphorical way of saying that I'm not good with new experiences/change/different. Ironically one of my top strengths is Adaptibility. I can't adapt to small changes. Major changes I can handle; Fire=a few fake tears and I'm over it; Abrupt move across the country=2 distracting jobs and I don't miss a thing; Being a lease holder to an apartment with a stream of flaky roommates=calmed down with a prayer.

On the other hand, not being able to find my black boots in my boxes=STRESSED, choosing a place to meet an old friend to eat=STRESSED, typing on a new key board=STRESSED.

I even went on my first job interview since I've been back in California. I got the job. Don't want the job. Don't want to work. Don't know what I want to do. Don't want to decline the job offer, because who does this in this economy? Aren't we all scrambling to stay employed? Isn't there an influx of overqualified candidates for entry level jobs? I might be crazy. Well I am crazy, I've always known that. I just can't figure out how to deal with it.

I want to start my own business but I can't because it's scary. I'm thinking of hiring a personal hand holder to guide me through everything in life that makes me anxious or nervous. Someone to encourage me when I have an idea for something and don't know what steps to take next. I need to hire someone to pat my head like a puppy and say "Shhhhh..." when I start to freak out over something silly, or sit next to me and sympathetically stare at me when my fingers start to cramp when I'm using high keyboard keys.

And I'd even give them a nice little bonus if that hand holder would look me in the eye and tell me, taking risks IN life is great and that I'm doing a good job at that, but that it wouldn't hurt to take a few risks in MY life.

Well, it makes sense to me.

I've called myself a risk taker in the past mainly because I didn't think very often, and when I did it was about fairy's, handsome prince's with horses and babies. Somewhere along the line someone convinced me to start thinking and now I'm scared of everything.

But I'll get back to those days when high keys won't make my pretty little fingers tremble, because with God (and the internet) all things are possible.

Re-Uniting with my Potential

I don't have the lack of talent problem. I'm one of the lucky ones who's been blessed with the ability to do and love doing many many things. That's one of the perks of living in my world. There isn't much that intimidates me and there isn't much that I am unable to do.

That is my problem.

I've spent 26 years now as the girl with so much POTENTIAL! I've heard from numerous people throughout my life tell me "Punky, I can't wait to see where you end up." or "You're the person who I'd really like to catch up with in 10 years to see what you are doing and where you are." Because they all saw this showstopper waiting to burst onto the scene once the real world became my play ground.

Ironically I was waiting to burst onto the scene too. Except I had the "one day" syndrome. You know the one. Like: One day I am going to have an AMAZING job. One day I am going to be a singer. One day I am going to have a job where I have to wear heels. One day I will win a Grammy and cry during my acceptance speech, while I thank God and my good friends and inspiration Whitney Houston and Mariah Carey...One day. That'll be a great day!

It never occured to me that to get to that day I had to actually DO something to get there! I just figured my potential would hop on a plane and catch up to me and Poof I'd be set. My potential must've tried to find me at one point, but got frusterated along the way when I kept moving around from job to job! Probably between 2005-2008. It was a busy time =)

So now I'm at the point where I need to sit down with my Po* and have a conversation about traveling together in the future. I think we'd be a good team and could "potentially" make a positive footprint on this side of eternity.

But considering the neglect I've shown her the past few years it will take some coaxing to get Po back on my team. Who knew Po had feelings? Or a busy schedule for that matter!

So that's my quest for the week. But I believe me and Po will reunite in the end and create something this world has never imagined, because I have God and the Internet on my side! And with those ALL things are possible!

*I got tired of writing "Potential" so I gave her a new name. I hope that didn't confuse you!

Coming Back Full Circle--Homeless in SF

This week I am a 26 year old, full time, live in nanny.

Next week I will be a hip New Yorker, hitting the corner deli for a hot cajun turkey sub, with pepperjack, on a hero.

The week after that I will be homeless in San Francisco...again. That city just seems to bring the homeless out of me.

The last time I lived there I left with literally NOTHING.

It was my Super Senior year in college. 5 years of hard work and the ups and downs that many college students have to endure. Being independent, living on your own for the first time, breaking away from the parents, having your sports team cut during budget cuts because California (the WORLD'S 5th largest economy) can't manage their money, and neither can your University, and testing the waters of your first serious relationship with the cute boy from the wrestling team after very little success with every other sports team...Sorry, digressing is in my nature.

It's April of 2006, 2 months until graduation which means final deadlines are coming up. I am the head of 4 major Pass or Fail class projects that are all imperitive to my getting a degree, an end of the year fashion show which I have entered a swimwear line and individual look (my caution and danger tape outfit I spoke of in the first blog.) My parent's had just left for South Africa because my mother was playing in the Tennis World Cup, and Easter was right around the corner.

And much to my surprise after coming home from my churches Easter musical I find my house BURNED down...

Apparently there was an electical malfunction in my room that the arson report deems as "not my fault" in so many words, that left my room in ashes, every appliance in the kitchen melted, major smoke damage done to my roommates things, and the incredibly putrid stench that lingered around the property for weeks. Not to mention that the heavenly Chicken Enchiladas I had made before we left were totally fried. Need I say that I had nothing left?

The night it happened my not yet boyfriend was with me and seemed a little more shaken up about it than I was. And with my parents out of the country for the first time in my life, my sister not answering her phone, and my best friend thinking that she was dreaming when I told her, I settled on calling my sisters ex-boyfriend from high school, 12 years her ex. Who couldn't actually do anything for me, but I wanted somebody to care. So I slept at my friend Shannon's house and all we could do was laugh about all the stuff that BURNED! Not PC I know but what could I do. My life was literally in ashes.

All 4 of the projects I was leading were on my toasted computer. My entire swimwear line for the fashion show, which was in two weeks, was completely destroyed, along with my brand new barely used sewing machine. As well as a few projects I couldn't get myself to start from scratch and do all over again, so instead of turning in nothing I turned in pictures of my fire and labeled those parts of my scorched room where the semester long projects used to lie. My teachers were sympathetic, Thank God, and one even told me that was the best excuse they'd heard in 25 years of teaching. Sweet.

So for 2 months I had no where to go and a lot of work to do in order to graduate. I remember one time I was in my car (which had turned into my mobile home) I had to go to the bathroom really bad and didn't know what to do. I had no home to go to and couldn't find parking at school, so I drove to a near by mall to use the restroom inside...

This was the last time I lived in San Francisco. Leaving there was the easiest move of my life to say the least. I only had myself, and some clothes that some friends had donated to me after they found out about my latest adventure with destruction.

So although I am coming back with more than a suitcase I am still coming back almost the way I left. Jobless, homeless, and with a degree I should put to use...

I guess life really does come full circle. At least this time I have a hot ex-wrestling turned aifcraft engineer boyfriend to keep me company =D

With God and the internet I can find a job and a home?!

Cover Letter screams HIRE ME!!!

You know what stinks about Cover Letters or Letters of "Interest?" You can't be honest. This is what I wish I could write in my cover letters.

Dear Company,

Hire me. I need a damn JOB!

Best

Punky

Instead I have to be all cordial and formal. And if they are human they probably don't read them all anyway. And if they do their jobs like the rest of America, the only thing they'd really need to have to know if I am qualified or not is a picture. Preferably one head shot and one full body. Thanks.

Dear Company,

I'm qualified for the position your hiring for. But I'd rather not get into it right now because I have to apply to 10 other jobs today if I want to get hired by Christmas.

Thanks for you time,

Punky

Personally my resume makes me look like an idiot. I started working when I was 14 and have had every job under the sun. Happy Hollow Kids Park and Zoo, American Eagle, SFSU Assistant Spirit Coordinator, Tennis Teacher, Intern for Goorin Bros, Chelsea Piers "Youth Sports Director", High end Boutique-Retail, Family Assistant, Nanny, Gymnastics Instructor, Birthday Party Coordinator, oh yeah and I was a Fashion major who wants to be a Singer and a Writer...Which is why I'm applying to be a Pole Dancing Instructor at your studio...

Dear Company,

You'd be a fool to pass me up! Every place I've held a job still keeps me on payroll in hopes that I'll come back. When I walk into work the temperature changes and the world becomes a much happier place. I encourage my co-workers to not be lazy, sneaky losers and to stop checking their facebook during work hours while I effectively mulit-task. Why wouldn't you want me to work for you?

We'll be in touch!

Punky

My sister on the other hand was sent to this earth to get any job she wanted. A principle once told my parents that when she walks in the room you feel like you need to "stand at attention and salute." Which is nothing short of the absolute truth. She can talk to anyone from the President of the United States to the Garbage man and get whatever she wants from them. (I still don't understand where all of those genes were hiding when it was my turn to choose. And I will wonder until the day I meet Jesus.) Her cover letter should say (and what I wish mine meant)...

Dear Company,

I'm phenomenal at everything I do. I am the perfect wife and mother and anything I touch in your company will turn to GOLD. You will promote me in the midst of the worst economic hardship you will see in your lifetime and will lay some workers off in order to do it. Because without me what will you be? Yes, I'm that good. Don't question me because you'll be sorry that you did. As a general rule, I'm always right.

Yours,

Punky's Sister

I think it's time I think about opening my own business...

Because with God and a little help from the internet, even a successful Punky is possible...right?

I used to WHINE about success

There was a time (about a half an hour ago) where I used to get very bitter about being 25 and not doing what I wanted with my life. I've always known what I wanted to do, but I'm quite the dreamer and my ambitions were never to be a teacher, counselor, criminal or any of those other attainable jobs that other kids dream about.

I wanted to be a SINGER, WRITER and MOTHER! Well the last one is easy with the help of a broken condom, missed birth control, and a willing, or unknowing, partner. (Don't worry I would never do that, I'm the sweet little Christian conservative girl that you pray your daughter would end up like.) I was never concerned about that one, or rushed for that matter. It was the first two that depressed me to no end.

I must've blanked before college because for reasons I still struggle to justify, I chose to be a fashion design major. No, I don't regret my decision. I just wonder why no one thought that that was weird and told me:

"Punky. You're suppose to major in something that you want a career in. Not something you just want to learn how to do."

In my defense I was really good. I awarded myself 'The most innovative' and 'biggest risk taker' in class. Due to the fact that my senior year I ran out of money still had to eat and pay rent and had no money to buy fabric for my final. So I called up my buddy and had him bring me some old t-shirts so I could make the gauchos and sweater I'd created a pattern for out of them. I didn't only earn my own accolades, I did win the "Most Creative" award for a little get up I made out of Caution tape, Danger tape and Duct tape. And was known for making shorts reminiscent of underwear...

But I spent my entire childhood addicted to my karaoke machine and filling up journal after journal. By the time I hit college I had over 14 journals, hundreds of poems and songs, and scrap paper, receipts, napkins anything you could write on, filled with words. Sometimes I'm blind to the obvious.

After college now armed with my "Bachelor of Science in Apparel Design and Merchandising" (Yes, it is considered a Science at SFSU. Don't bring it up to my Electrical Engineering boyfriend who got a Bachelor of Arts degree. 3 years later he still can't come to terms with it. I digress)

Anyhow, now armed with my new fashion degree, the only jobs I wanted to apply for were writing jobs or somewhere in the non fashion entertainment world. Music. But I didn't qualify for any jobs like that with a fashion degree.

Now 3 years out of college and anywhere from 7-10 unsatisfying jobs later the LIGHTBULB went on!

Eff getting paid to sing and write. I can do all of that via the internet. No editors, No record labels, No creative boundaries...

No money either...

But that's not what it's about anyway. Right? =)

So tonight as I got out of the shower I decided it was time to do what I've always wanted to do. Sing and Write.

If you enjoy please stay and read. If not...Tell someone how you read this awful blog and that they should read it too so you can both talk about how painful it was to get to the end =)

Until my next urg to pound the keys...

Remember With God and a little help from the internet ALL things are possible!

Punky