I know a lot of this is hormones since I just got my period again. But I feel like I've jumped off of a cliff, and am not sure where I'm going to land. In the past month I've broken up for good with my RNR, as evidenced by the fact that he is back together with his ex after trying a couple of times to get me back. I have to move yet again, but this time am faced with the additional complication that I am a temp, leading to landlords looking at me like "Are you kidding me?" despite the fact that I have almost perfect credit. I've taken the leap to being a temp on the promise that the job would be temp to perm, only to find out that some of the temps have been there for 2 years or more.

I know that things are better than they were, and remind myself of that quite often. It still feels like someone stopped my heart when I see my RNR with his ex, though, approaching her the same way he did with me. I still want to cry when I realize that I've fought and clawed my way into my current position, only to realize how much further I have to go before I have something resembling a permanent career. I can't even think about packing one more time, making this the 7th move in three years, and realizing I've gone from a full apartment to barely one room of furniture. I don't even know if I could furnish a one bedroom, even though I know I can't afford one.

I miss A - the only person in the city who I could do anything normal with outside of bar life. I still talk to the bar people I've met over the past year and a half, but I'm feeling increasingly disconnected from that life as work consumes more and more of my waking hours, and have already pretty much figured out that I won't be making friends with anyone at work. Even though I know I'm the same person I've always been, I feel like I'm losing something; a passion for anything outside of my work.

I've already decided I'm not going to be on league anymore. I'm no longer on the e-mail thread with my pool team since I can't access Gmail at work through the firewall. I do nothing on the weekends except sit inside, watch movies and sew, not necessarily because there isn't anything else to do, but because I have no one to do it with and no energy to do it myself. I'm closing down, preparing for the next round of change with moving and the inevitable uncertainty involved with it.

In short, I'm scared. I want nothing more than my RNR to wrap his arms around me and tell me that he'd be there for me, but I know I never even had that when we were together. I know I'll make it through this time again; I'm a survivor in too many ways and over too many times like this to not know that. It doesn't stop me from wishing that I had even one person to take some of my burden right now, though, and in the meantime I'll cry, let the sadness flow through me, then pick myself up and go back to work. I may have leapt off a cliff, but I trust myself enough to know that I can act as my own parachute to ensure a safe landing, wherever and whenever that will be, and start over for the seventh time. Maybe it'll be a lucky seven.

I'm so proud of Kansas. She managed to have a rock-n-roll fucking weekend totally worthy of some of the stories that I provide, and she did all of this without leaving Florgia. For me, this has been a quiet weekend, one where I did absolutely nothing yesterday and it was great. Today I'm trying to make minimal effort to find an apartment (yet again), and realizing just how screwed I am (again) in my price range and in the areas I'm looking in (East Side from 23rd or so up to 90th). Average price of a studio? $1500. Fuck. I can afford it, barely, although not with a broker's fee, so I'll have to see what happens. I'm proceeding on the assumption that I'll only get one month-to-month on my lease, so am planning for a 1/1/07 move-in date, which may actually work out - if possible, move on 12/30, have a day or two to get my stuff settled, then it's back to work.

I keep reminding myself: yes, it is Sunday, and I go back to work tomorrow, but I work one day, go see my social worker at 10:15 am on Tuesday, and then maybe head back to my old job and be on the clock there from 12 to 2 or so. Either way, it's still a shorter day than my normal days, and I think will fall into place as long as I divide my efforts between apartment hunting, work, relaxation, and fun.

I also think the other temp who started a week before me isn't coming back since he found a permanent position so things are looking up on making it as a full-timer someday for LIB. Woohoo! I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving, and as for me; it's time to start adding Christmas shopping to the list of necessaries.

I can't believe it's already Thanksgiving. Time in New York seems to fly by twice as fast as any other place, when you turn around and realize it's already been a month since I left my old job, and that things are shifting yet again. The crowd I hang around with is changing. My hobbies are changing. God knows my job is changing. And what I'm learning (yet again) is that some things have to be let go in the process. For a while, I need to put myself first, work on getting my health insurance settled, getting a new apartment that's vaguely affordable, and keep working towards a permanent position where I would actually (shock!) get holiday pay.

I explained to my family when I went for my respective aunt's birthdays that I will basically be disappearing for a while, since time off is a luxury I won't have for at least 5 more months ( and probably not even then), explaining that I'm working my way up from the bottom because that's the only way to do it in today's world. I have to let my family's push for me to be in a perfect job, with minimal effort and tons of time for me to come in to Jersey and see them, be just a dream. Someday, maybe, when I've worked 10-20 years in the field and make the rules, but right now my sacrifices are my ties outside of New York City. And I'm ok with that.

I always have lofty goals for my day off. I could go to the park. I could go to the museums; go shopping; just take a walk around the city; see what's out there on that particular day. Instead, I find myself so incredibly relieved to not have to work that I stay in my pajamas half the day, and maybe motivate to go get some new milk to replace the one that's developing chunks in my fridge, maybe take advantage of the sushi lunch special at the restaurant downstairs, and relax watching movies, sewing, or playing Nintendo games on my computer.

I'm realizing just how much I depend on that promised Tuesday off. On weeks like the past one, where it was a good 50 hour week, 5 days of 10-11 hour days, I need the weekend as crash time, not exciting time. Hell, I didn't even go out on Saturday, although I contemplated it. In the end, I chose to stay in, and was perfectly happy doing so. Today I fulfill my family obligations, then gear up for another long week of working 4 full 11 hour days, and one day of family yet again. Maybe next Sunday I'll have the energy to do something else productive, but I shall have to see. I'm trying to put my health first and not make the same mistake of burning myself out within the first 6 months of a job by trying to please everyone - bosses, clients, family, bar friend obligations, and put myself last.

Sure, it may not be the most exciting way to spend a Saturday in NYC, but I'll take what I can, especially when it means putting myself first, something I still struggle to do on a regular basis against my first instinct of making others happy and taking care of others. I'm taking the time. I'm breathing, sleeping, eating well, and smiling more. That's the way to do it.

That whole day off thing? Yeah, not exactly reliable. As I'm training my replacement at my old job, I get a call from my temp agency: it's an all-hands call to help with the queue at my new job. Instead of getting some time to rest, I worked 3 hours at my old job, then ran to my new one and worked over 6 hours there. Good thing I love my new job :).

It was strange to go back though. Everyone was jokingly asking what they could do to get me back, but I knew that they were serious; no one else there could do what I did to make sure the journal was published correctly, and especially administer the website. My replacement is much more of a traditional librarian (even though she was adamant that she has NEVER worked in a traditional library), and I've already gotten a call from my temp complaining that she's uptight ALL THE TIME. I'm like "Welcome to the average older librarian." One reason I'm thrilled I got out of that field.

Today I'm finally taking it easy after a very, very long week, then off to Jersey again for my other aunt's birthday on Sunday. I'm running twice the schedule I used to, but have twice the energy. I'm lovin' it, to borrow a phrase.

I keep meaning to post, but Internet is still unreliable in my apartment and there seems to be precious little time. On Sunday I received three calls from people after I returned from my aunt's birthday party in Jersey, and didn't pick up, since I was just ecstatic to be home, sewing, relaxing, and watching movies for what seemed like the first time all week.

I'm actually back at my old job today, which is a bit strange (and lets me see how much will be left undone by my temp), but training my replacement is certainly an important thing for me.

I'm exhausted, but getting by on half the sleep I used to with half the problems. Apparently liking your job can go a very long way towards bringing the energy to deal with life and its problems, and I haven't been with my RNR in over two weeks, so I think we may (possibly?) be done for real this time. Time will tell, I suppose.

I rented Secretary from Netflix, and it's certainly a strange movie. However, the best romantic movies around are usually the unusual ones like this one. It's the forbidden fruit, the "deviance," the borderline abuse that no one wants to admit to, but passion and violence seem intertwined in many ways, in many models.

I'm single again, probably for quite some time, and just need to refocus on the great job instead of the dysfunctional outside life I've built for myself. I think I can do it. I just have to accept that I need to work on personal responsibility (yet again).

Something tells me I'll never have the fairytale relationship, hell, even anything approaching a normal relationship. Better to know that ahead of time, however, and at least think about slowly approximating it, accumulating knowledge of what I can accept and what's out of bounds, not by "traditional" standards, but by my own standards that make me happy. I think that's more what it's all about.

I think I'm finally getting the hang of this, as is my pool team. I didn't get out of work until 8:45 last night since I was working on a project that if I didn't finish, someone would have to start from scratch for the third time (I was the second person to work on it after the first gave up). I walked in, said hi, then had to take a good 30 minutes just to chill and relax before I could mentally make the shift to bar friendliness. By an hour in I had my second wind and was good to go, even though I didn't play, but I'm realizing how much I need that time after work, before going out, to be my old self, since I basically am two different people with completely different focuses, each equally honest to myself and I equally enjoy each facet of my personality, but they're not compatible in one place.

I walked home and stayed up until 2 am, just watching movies, sewing, and chilling, then went to bed. And woke up 13 hours later :). Thank God for this day off during the week; it makes a gigantic difference to my energy level and capacity to deal with "normal" things. Plus I have the time to run errands I normally couldn't complete, given my strange work schedule, so I spent the intervening time taking care of necessaries, especially since I'm going home on Saturday for one aunt's birthday, and the Saturday afterward for my other aunt's birthday. This means I'll be running around non-stop, and will need this Tuesday off more than ever as the weather turns colder and I settle more into the job. There are still things to be dealt with with my RNR, since I haven't heard from him or spoken to him since last Thursday, but that will hold until whenever I see him again. I know where I stand on it, and what I'll put up with, and that's good enough.

Instead of my usual routine this weekend, I found myself calling/receiving calls from everyone I hadn't talked to in what seems like forever. All of the people I miss terribly, and who I wish were here so I could have some normal friends for a change.

It was certainly a quiet weekend, although I'm off to the Barenaked Ladies concert tonight - a band I haven't seen live since 2000. I'm looking forward to my Tuesday off, but find myself somewhat unsure of what to do with that extra day besides sleeping. I know there's much more to NYC, but I think the past 10 months have restricted my focus so much to certain parts of the city that I'll need to teach myself what else is available once again. Hopefully that's what every Tuesday will be about, instead of errands and sleep.

The apartment hunting is beginning again, although amazingly I'm not overly upset about it. I really do think that I would have been perfect for the last roommate share, but they chose someone else and I can definitely understand that. I hate to say it, especially since I know that compared to many, MANY people in New York City, my lifestyle doesn't even approach wild, but that I am on the wilder end of the average upper 20's crowd who are making their mark in industry. I don't know for sure that's the reason why I wasn't chosen, but I can guess, even though they did seem to like me quite a bit.

Tomorrow I'm trying to set up appointments, and from there, I'll make it up as I go along. I think I actually do want a roommate who's cool - I need more female companionship in my life and I hope that would fill that need.

In the meantime, I'll have a quiet weekend in, avoiding the people I know in case my RNR shows up, and work on the more important things in my life - accepting my job, learning what I can, and finding a new place. I may be lonely, but that's hardly new, and I'll work on it one day at a time, so to say (though I'm not hitting AA :)).

For the first time in recent memory, I can safely say that I love my work life more than my outside life. Mostly this is due to the fact that I really do (and still) love the job. It's also because my pool team who I used to hang out with have mostly disappeared after the collective hissy fit everyone threw at each other at the end of last season. I'm also no longer on the e-mail list since I can't access gmail at work, so I've lost touch with everyone for all intents and purposes.

It's also because things have become difficult yet again with my RNR. Booty calls worked fine for me, and if he was difficult in the morning and about not liking my apartment, I figured hey, his problem.

Last night he drove to the bar (God knows why, since he lives across the street), and parked outside instead of in his garage after returning from Connecticut. As we were leaving after T, B, and I woke him up after he passed out AGAIN, I managed to convince/bully/cajole him into walking his bike to a spot a little over a block away where he wouldn't get a ticket rather than ride it back to his garage. Without a helmet, no less, since he'd left it inside.

I walk with him to where he parks it, and try to pick up the bag he's taking back with him. He fights back to get it, and hits me across the cheek. He instantly apologizes, but I'm going "Fuck, this is now the FOURTH time he's hurt me physically." I grab the bag and stalk off, waiting out of sight a bit down the street for him. We walk back to the bar, I shove the bag at him, and ask where his helmet is. I storm back into the bar, grab his helmet, walk back across the street and practically throw it at him, then turn and leave without another word.

When I walk back in, B, T, and the bartenders ask what happened, since I am obviously pissed off and upset, and I tell them. "He hit me again." The bartender J, who's given me a hand before on other bad nights, pours me a drink, and B and T make sure I'll be ok before they leave for the night. I stay, shoot a couple of games of pool by myself to work off the anger and aggression, then head out myself. How do I let this keep happening?

Very few movies make me tear up, let alone cry. So far, that title has been taken primarily by Big Fish, and 25th Hour. Even Requiem for a Dream, which is a very emotional and disturbing movie didn't cause a single tear to form.

The House of Sand and Fog just arrived in my mailbox today, and when I came home from work I popped it in. Oh my God, it was an excellent movie, and touched on a lot of issues, but I was sobbing at two different points, and the ending was just so sad. Much like Capote, it was a movie that fully deserved all of the honors it received, but was so difficult to watch that I only have the urge to see it once.

Of course, soon I'll be receiving Saw and Saw II, which I feel will fall in the same category, although without the emotional depth or great acting. I love horror movies, but there are few really worth multiple viewings. The ones that are (Halloween (only the original), Nightmare on Elm Street (original and #3), and the Evil Dead trilogy mostly), often cross the line to camp often enough that I love the humor and gore combined.

Besides that, all is well in my life for the most part. I went for my flu shot on Tuesday and now have a freaking bruise, since I bruise anytime a needle pierces my skin in any way. I'm staying in and sewing on work nights nowadays, and still loving my job, although I think I need to speak to them about some kind of formal training schedule and work quality check to make sure that I'm fulfilling the traders' expectations. I'm learning in leaps and bounds, however, and still actually happy, not just keeping breathing, which was all I could claim for a long time.

I'm considering a roommate, not just to split the costs of an apartment, but also to have some female companionship around. I love the guys I hang out with, but I'm really starting to notice the lack of a single female in New York who I can talk about the guys I hang out with :). I'm hoping to hear by Friday on a place that would be mostly perfect. Drawback: it's a 5th floor walkup, but I'm much more in shape now than I was when I was looking for an apartment last summer, and I figure it will tone my legs and compensate for the smoking, so overall it's a plus. Besides, I'd be hiring movers to actually get my stuff up there :).

Two more days, then cleaning my apartment on the weekend, perhaps a trip to the Met or to the Frick if I wake up early enough (set your own price is from 11 am-1 pm on Sundays instead of the normal $15 admission). This is the reason why I can't see leaving New York City in the near future, if ever. Possibilities are endless.