Summer 2006: Breaking the DorritDay Curse

People who visit this site regularly (i.e., my friends or bored prisoners) know that the June rant is more than likely going to be about my infamous birthday curse. I don't know why it started, but close to ten years ago DorritDay just started to suck in a major way. As a kid, my birthday was my favorite holiday except for Christmas, but over the past years I've grown to actually dread it. But I guess that's not just the curse. It could also be because now when I look back over my shoulder on my birthday, I see Death waving me over, saying "Hey, Dorrit, come'ere, I've got candy." I haven't fallen for it yet. But if he ever says he has Hershey bars AND nylons, start picking out black outfits to wear to my funeral...

I'm not going to go over the complete list of cursed birthday happenings...trapped in a house with my mother with no electricity after driving through a horrific rain storm for five hours, having to have a dog put to sleep, getting laid off from my job, blah blah blah.

But the thing is, I think I may have FINALLY beaten the curse. And I think that for two reasons. First, because I have managed to survive the worst of it for the past few years. And this was no small feat considering what was going on in my life during those years. The first phrase that comes to mind is emotional rollercoaster, if you know what I mean...and I think you do. But somehow I survived, although even I have to admit I'm surprised I'm not heavily medicated and/or didn't run off to join the French Foreign Legion. (Hmmm, maybe the last one isn't so surprising considering that I hate heat. And France. And foreigners. I do like medication, though.)

Next, because I recently returned to the birthplace of the curse, my mom's house. I spent five days taking care of her and doing errands and chores while she's recovering, hopefully, from pneumonia. Five days. And nights. Count 'em, five. In a house, alone, with my mother. And two senile 200-year-old Siamese cats, who my mother refers to as "the babies." (Okay, I'll stop now.)

I'd say you'd have to have met my mother to really understand how much of a "difficult" experience this was, but maybe not. If you're a woman, and a baby boomer, think about your relationship with YOUR mother. (Yes, she has to be alive.) Now make her an independent woman who's used to taking care of herself but is now sick, cranky, and 85. And a republican. Need I say more? I didn't think so. Oh, also, my mother is one of those "outgoing" types who has always talked to anyone and everyone. (And you know how much I love THAT.) Since she lives alone, now she just talks, all the time. To the cats, to the walls, to the TV. If she was awake, she was talking. Fortunately, she slept a lot.

I love my mother, and my parents gave me way more than a lot of people had growing up and even after I was grown up. And I know that somewhere deep down she loves me too--in her own totally conditional way, of course. But all that still didn't stop me from wanting to beat her to death with the business end of a claw hammer by the time I left. Birthday curse? Ha. What could be worse than living through this, a freakin' tsunami? Famine? Pestilence? Another Disney cartoon being made into a hit Broadway show? No, I ran the gauntlet, and I survived, without killing her OR myself. I'm still amazed, but I did it. To paraphrase Tommy Roe, Hooray for Hazel, and me.

And living through all that broke the curse. How do I know? Because I just got the most incredibly bitchin' job that I think I've ever had, and I'm starting the day after my birthday. I do realize that there is a slim chance all this could be another ruse, and there could actually be a tsunami in Brooklyn on my birthday. But that's a stretch even for me. (And if you're reading this, it means the 6-6-06 thing didn't happen either. Unless it did, and we're all now the Antichrist's minion. If that's the case, "Hail Satan.")

How incredibly bitchin' is it? Well, believe it or not, I actually don't like revealing too much specific info about my personal life online, so I won't say exactly where I'll be working. But know this: this job is going to be a bigger lesbian magnet than a puppy! Seriously, I may as well get a T-shirt that says, "Hi Girls, do me." It's at an extremely well-known gay & lesbian organization, and I'm still doing Web creative and tech, plus more writing. Yeah, non profit AND gay. Oh yeah, I broke the curse, but good.

Yes, the second golden age of Dorrit has obviously finally begun. I've got the job, great hair, a killer rack and I'm a hoot and a half. Now all I need is the girl, but I have faith that's going to happen eventually as well. (With or without the T-shirt...)

Without trying to sound too annoyingly cosmic, there are a few thoughts I'd like to leave you with that might aid in starting your own golden age. The first is to decide what--and who--you want in your life and go after it. Seriously, I'm not going to be one of those mooks who says "You can do anything if you try hard enough," because you can't. (I've been trying to be the Queen of France and date Dana Delaney for years, but...) I looked for a new job for a long time before it happened. But if I hadn't kept looking really hard instead of wasting time online or here or whatever; if I hadn't really focused on the job search over the past few months, it never would have happened at all. Never.

Did I feel like bashing my head against a wall the many months when I felt like I wasn't going anywhere? After the ex broke up with me yet again completely out of nowhere, and I wasn't getting a new job, and felt like I was just stuck in quicksand? Oh yeah, I did. But after a little self pity, and candy, I always got over it and focused on the future and the changes I've been trying to make instead. (And the good news is I could eat candy when I did that too.) Eventually, they started to happen.

I don't want to sound like I think my life is now perfect, or that I'll absolutely love everything about it from now on. If I believed that, I would have to move to Crazytown. But I have found that it's much better to focus on the things you do like about your life, and the things that you do have, rather than what you don't have and don't like. And I'll always be grateful for what I have, whether I'm perfectly satisfied with it or not. Overall, I'm pretty happy with the person I am today and I think that's the key.

The last thought probably is too annoying, but since it's almost DorritDay that means I'm in charge. So I'm going to say it anyway and you have to read it. Try to stop thinking about what the world can offer you, and instead think about what you're here to offer the world. Chances are, it's way more than you think it is, and looking at it that way just might change your whole perspective on your life. (Hey, it's just advice; personally I don't give a tiny rat's ass if you take it or leave it. The only person I'm the boss of is me.)

So I hope you all are in or are soon able to start your own "golden ages," whatever that means to each one of you. In the meantime, feel free to share the second golden age of Dorrit. Drinks and BBQ my backyard; I get the hammock.