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2009 came crashing down around me just before my birthday, which happens to be 9 April. After the phone call, I stood there with nothing. The startup I had been working for had lost their funding, and my promised pay along with it. Of course, I found this out after I had mailed my rent check. Timing is indeed everything.
That year, the ninth of April was on a Thursday. I had several friends meeting me for dinner that night to celebrate. I felt like doing anything but. I spent all of lunch crying with a dear friend, debating whether to cancel dinner, wondering how I was going to manage. {As an aside, most writers have a nasty habit of living paycheck to paycheck, focusing all energy and effort to writing, not growing the career of the day job(s). That haphazard lifestyle was working fairly well until the economy went pear-shape in 2008. By 9 April 2009, my whole world went topsy-turvy.}
My friend talked me in to keeping my dinner plans. I did my best to put on a smile and eventually relaxed into the festivities. There's nothing that pleases me more than seeing my friends together, -- who typically see each other once a year at my birthday -- chatting and laughing amongst themselves. I have many wonderful people in my life. And those wonderful people got me through that unpleasant year.
The next day was Good Friday. I rose early and got into my car for the drive up to see Miss Jenn and her fine men. That was a difficult time for Miss Jenn, as she was going through chemo and additional pain caused by scar tissue. But, though neither of us were in our best place, we could find plenty to laugh about. She was trying to gain weight, so there was always something to eat. And many, many cups of tea. The kettle was always at the ready.
As tough as 2009 was, and it was brutal at times, there was a lot of love and hope and joy, and strength found and nurtured and shared. As Mr. Dickens said, it was indeed the best of times and the worst. Although, having just typed that, 2009 also gave a shift in perspective. Maybe it wasn't the worst of times after all. But it was certainly double-dipped in merde on occasion.
Last year's birthday was the do over. It was a lovely, long weekend that made up for the previous year. 2010 was the year of playing catch-up, trying to make up the ground lost in 2009. And it was more or less a blur of a year because I kept rushing through everything hoping that would make things happen faster. You see, I have two films sitting on the development shelf waiting to be funded. And if there was a way I could get one of them done, well, then I could really get on with living my life.
But, I'm still waiting for that. Not only the funding but the getting on with my life bit. Still waiting and hoping and holding my breath. It's surprising I'm not a shade of Tiffany Blue. I somehow remain a normal color.
At the end of January, the smaller of the two films had interested investors. In February, I was writing another draft. In March, I was finishing it. At the same time, I was working on getting my pet project into a festival of sorts and all the application filling-out that takes. By the end of March, I became aware of the fact that I had not given out my two-month, save-the-date notice my friends come to expect. Then I became aware that I didn't care if I celebrated my birthday at all. Then friends started calling and emailing. "Isn't your birthday coming up?" they would inquire. "What are we doing for it this year?"
This year, 9 April was on a Saturday. And, this year, I wanted to keep it simple. About a week before, I sent out an email suggesting a happy hour fête at a local French restaurant. Cheap et chic. There were to be eight of us. Which grew to ten. And then, that Monday, I felt a little unwell. By Thursday, I had to cancel a meeting and go home early from work. Friday night was particularly unpleasant. And Saturday morning, I realized I had to cancel my own birthday party. Truly, there was no way I could put on a brave face and rally for that. Besides, I will still looking for the culprit who gave it to me. I certainly didn't want to share that with people I love.
Five days and eight pounds later, I emerged. I went back to the restaurant with a friend on the following Thursday night and had my first solid food in a week. It was heaven. But, shortly thereafter, the familiar rumblings started.
The startup I work with was running low on funds. The financiers for the little film couldn't reach an agreement. And there I was staring 2009 in the face again. Miss Jenn was also having flashes of 2009. We joked that it seems about right. The Real Housewives of New York are in full swing, and, back in 2009, when she and I weren't watching marathons of Bravo together in her living room, we were instant messaging as we watched together from our respective ZIP codes. Yet, as familiar as this feels, it's not the same.
2009 was an unkind teacher, but it instilled a deep wisdom in us. Yes, I'm afraid that I will fall back, but I'm determined to go forward. I have no control over what happens, but I do have a say in how I respond to whatever circumstances I find myself. That's the gift I was given in 2009, and am reminded of now.
The other gifts I was given then was double-over laughter with the occasional snort. An adorable alarm clock. A magical coffee maker. Bearing witness to a beautiful sisterhood. And a deep understanding that we really do determine our own fate, even if it seems like we have no say in what comes our way. Sometimes, we just have to ride the waves and let the current carry us. And, when I find myself facing that wind, I picture Jackie on a boat, and sail through it as elegantly as I can.
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