A question for my readers who remember the Vietnam era

I know I have a few readers over age 60--maybe you can shed some insight into this. 

Last night I was having dinner with a girlfriend and we got to talking about the draft during the Vietnam war.  I was born in 1957, so Vietnam was a little before my time, but I remember how young men would go to Canada or even cut off a finger to get out of going into the military.

So here's my question:  Why didn't they just say they were gay?

It's taken me longer to think of a title for this post than to write it

I had a nice birthday yesterday.  In the morning I met with the recruiter who's working on my dream job (that went really well) and then I got in some pool time before it started to rain.

Rain?  In Vegas?  On my birthday???  Grrrrr.  Then I went out to lunch with Mike, and in the evening had some quiet time at home.  Love it.

Jeez, I really gotta learn Photoshop.  Or maybe get a soft-focus Barbara Walters lens on my iPhone camera.  Bright sunlight, why are you so cruel?  No wonder why people say I'm better looking in person.  (I swear to God, I really am.)

Anyway, I spent some time on Facebook yesterday, trying to acknowledge all the birthday wishes.  Thank you, everyone!  Along the way, I came across a couple of funny photos that friends had posted.  I have to share:

"I say three Hail Marys whenever I drive by it..." is what my friend said about that. 

Yep, there's actually a Clown Motel in Tonapah, Nevada.  Imagine the nightmares you'd have in that place, huh? 

Then another friend posted this one, with the caption, "Picture speaks 1,000 words."

Oh, man.  That cracked me up!

Anyway, after a nice day of R&R, it's back to reality today.  As you know, I've been busy as hell since early August, and now I finally have some time to catch up on things.  And to exercise.  Yeah, I remember that...

Have a great day!

Fifty-four today!

I love my birthday! I'm so very grateful to have lived another year on this planet. And to be in love, have a wonderful family, enjoy good health, have an awesome place to live, and not have to get up and go to work today... well, I'm one lucky girl.

A few months ago my Quirky Lesbian Aunt Joyce sent me this picture of me with my parents when I was a baby. Isn't it freaky to think we all started out like little babies like this???

 

We lived in Texas, where I was born.  (My father was in the army.)  My mother must have sent this picture to my grandmother in Albany.  Look what she wrote on the back of it.

 

Oh, thank you so much, Mom!   (But in real life, thanks for everything.)

New year, new laptop... fingers crossed for a new job

This is my first post written from my new laptop--an early birthday present from Mike.  So nice.  Monday is my birthday, so next week you can expect a "Year in Review" post.  I'd say it's been quite a year, but aren't they all?

As always, I'm psyched about starting another year, and there are lots of changes ahead.  Yesterday was my last day at my awesome telecommuting job.  In a way, I hate that it's over; I absolutely love working at home, but who knows--hopefully I'll be going on to bigger and better.  I have an amazing prospect on the radar screen; based on what the recruiter has told me, it sounds like my dream job. 
Of course, my real dream job would be no job at all--I'd love to just write all day, do some volunteer work, and pursue my creative endeavors--but as day jobs go, this one seems perfect.  I don't want to say too much for fear of jinxing myself, but I will tell you it involves travelling to resorts worldwide (!) and I'd be reporting to someone on another continent.  HELL, yeah!  They've already checked my references and things are looking good. 

I won't be interviewing with the hiring manager until his next trip to Vegas, so it will be a couple of weeks until I know anything for sure.  In the meantime, fingers crossed but I have to keep sending out resumes until I get an offer; there's no bird in hand. (A thought I find positively repulsive. Whoever came up with that?)  At any rate, I'm going to enjoy the time off.  It's still warm enough to relax poolside, which is how I intend to spend a good part of my birthday.  How lucky I am! 

Hey, my age is the same as my height this year (5-4). If only my weight (139) matched my IQ.  Or even my bowling average.

Anyway, it's also kind of significant that I got a new laptop right now.  I've had my old one since about 2004, which in laptop years is ancient. B.H. bought it for me so I could write my book--oh, the works of genius that have come from that thing!  Seriously, I do have a little emotional attachment to it, but it was getting slow as hell and it's time to move on.  After all, a new year is beginning; it's a good time for change.

One thing I noticed, though--my blog looks weird on this.  My blogging friend Donna at Mystical Journeys told me a while ago that it looks weird on her computer, but I couldn't figure out why.  It looked fine on my old laptop, my work laptop, and Mike's computer.  I know what she means--the sidebars are so dark you can hardly read the text--and I'm not sure how to fix it. I have a feeling it may be fine on older machines.  Do I look weird to you?  (My blog, I mean.)  Any ideas what I can do about it?

Anyway, life is good and I'm enjoying every minute.  No matter what happens with my cool job prospect, it's all perfect.  Everything's perfect.  Except I still hate my hair.

Hope you're having a great weekend!

Even MORE great advice from me!

I've really been enjoying doing comedy lately.  Hello, it's about time--it's been almost eight years since I first took the stage at Boomers and after all, hobbies are meant to be enjoyed, no? 

Sunday night I did a set at the open mic at Big Al's Comedy Club in the Orleans, which was a blast.  My BFF Julie of 47 and Starting Over fame was there with her boyfriend, Michael, who's also a comic and who also performed, and another couple who are Julie's good friends and are now mine as well.  Julie taped my set--I'll have to see if I can post that.  I know--promises, promises. 

Big Al's is a great room and John Barnes, who runs the stage, does a fantastic job keeping the comics moving.   If you're ever visiting, or are just looking for something to do on a Sunday night, check out Big Al's.  The show starts promptly at 9:00 and it's free.  Of course, open mics are always a crap shoot since they're open to all levels of performers, but that just adds to the fun.

Then Tuesday night I did the Las Vegas Comedy Show in my buddy Joe Lowers' showroom at Alexis Park.  It was the first time I performed there since I had my show last year and I swear, I don't think I'll ever get used to the stage lighting in that room--so bright!  I can't see a goddamn thing and it it's like Helen Keller comedy, but the room is awesome.  A couple of my friends from the old Boomers days were hanging out backstage and we remarked about how long it's been since we all met.  Eight years--Jesus H.  As my grandmother used to say, where does the time go?

At one point as we were shooting the shit, I was overcome with a feeling so warm I almost feel like a sap telling you about it.  But it's true.  I love all my comic friends; they're "my people."  If you read Bastard Husband, you know how much they meant to me when I first came to Vegas and hardly knew anyone in town.  As I wrote in my book, they never made me feel like an old bat; they've always been very warm and kind to me, and that still holds true for the young kids I'm meeting now.  I recently got a Facebook friend request from a kid born in 1990!

So things have never been better in the comedy area.  I'm having fun with it, now that I'm no longer blotching up with stage fright. I don't think I'll ever lick it entirely, but as Dale Carnegie says, a certain amount of stage fright is useful.

"It is nature's way of preparing us to meet unusual challenges in our environment.  So, when you notice your pulse beating faster and your respiration speeding up, don't become alarmed.  Your body, ever alert to external stimuli, is getting ready to go into action. If these physiological preparations are held within limits, you will be capable of thinking faster, talking more fluently, and generally speaking with more intensity than under normal circumstances."

He goes on to say that many professional speakers never completely lose stage fright.

"It is always present just before they speak, and it may persist through the first few sentences of their talk. This is the price these men and women pay for being race horses and not like draft horses."

Who wants to be a draft horse, huh? 

I love the Dale Carnegie stuff.  You have to read through a lot of anecdotal material to get to his point sometimes, but the takeaways are worth it.  Like when he encourages you to talk as confidently as if every person in the audience owes you money and they have assembled there to beg you for an extension of credit.  Cool stuff.

I share my experiences doing comedy in case one of you, my beloved readers, is allowing fear to prevent you from doing something you really, really want to do. Whether you're afraid to go out on the town by yourself, talk to a stranger in line at the grocery store, give a presentation at work, post an profile on an online dating site, or pursue a hobby as crazy as stand-up comedy... I have two simple words of advice:  "Fuck fear."

Just like Dale Carnegie's books, this blog is full of tons of anecdotal crap. So I'll save you the trouble of sifting through the more than 600 posts in the past three years and I'll tell you the three most important takeaways.  If you learn nothing else from my so-called life, let it be this:

1. Stand up straight.
2. Smile.
3. Fuck fear.

Got it?

Calling all Lindas!

The other day I was at the checkout at Ross (quelle surprise) and noticed the cashier's name tag.

"Linda.  Great name!" I said, being the idiot that I am.  She gave me a sheepish look and said something like, "Yeah, there's no hiding our age, huh?"

No, there isn't.   I'm gonna guess that about 99% of women named Linda were born between 1943 and 1963, probably because of the song "Linda" that came out in 1946. According to this website, the song was written by Jack Lawrence for the 5-year-old daughter of his lawyer, Lee Eastman. Linda Eastman grew up to marry Paul McCartney, who wrote another song, "The Lovely Linda," for her.  Imagine having two songs written and recorded for you?

Linda was an extremely popular name in 1957; I was one of four Lindas in my class in elementary school.  There was Linda Smitas, Linda Smith, Linda Goldstein, and me (Linda Haber).  I always loved being a Linda; seriously, I felt I hit the jackpot when it came to getting a cool name. 

For as loony as my parents were--my Type A father having a friggin' heart attack any time someone spilled the gravy at dinner and my Jeopardy-addicted agoraphobic mother--they sure pulled through when it came to naming me.   It was a close call, though. When I was little, my mother told me I was almost named Deirdre, and I remember thinking, "What the hell kind of name is that?"

These days, as the cashier in Ross reminded me, the name is pretty dated.  I've come across only one Linda below the age of 30--a gothic-looking cashier in Pier I Imports who was named after Linda Ronstadt and who clearly didn't share my enthusiasm for her parents' taste. My own daughter, in her teen years, used to practically howl over my name because she thought it sounded so old fashioned, just as I giggled at my paternal grandmother's name:  Mabel.

"See me in a couple of decades, Courtney," I'd tell my little clone, because Courtney is just the Linda of a later era.   

I know a Linda who goes by "Lindy" at the advice of someone who told her a younger-sounding name would give her a professional advantage. Whatever.  Dated or not, I love being a Linda.  I've always felt like a Linda and I think I even look like a Linda. And who knows?  Maybe someday my granddaughter will name her baby after her granny, and Linda will become hip again. 

You know, like Hazel.

How about you?  Do you like your name?  Does it fit you? Did you ever wish you were named something else?  

P.S.  I don't have a middle name; none of the girls in my family do.  "Linda Lou" is a nickname my friend Chief gave me at a beer party when I was in my 20s.  When I started doing comedy, I didn't want to perform under my real last name because I wasn't sure if I was going to keep B.H's name or not after our divorce.  So I decided to perform as Linda Lou, and then used that as a pen name when I starting writing. 

Between us, "Linda Lou" sounds like I'm a goddamn hillbilly, instead of a multi-generation Yankee, but at this point there's no turning back.  But looking forward... who knows.

The never-ending quest for balance (and a rewarding work life)

First, I know--it's Sunday and I'm supposed to post on Saturday.  I really, really have tried to maintain a regular posting schedule.  It's been getting harder, though. 

Last night I had dinner with a couple of my blogging buddies and their partners who are in town for the weekend--my BFF Julie from 47 and Starting Over and former Travel Girl  blogger, Dar.  I know these girls only from the bloggy world; we met almost two and a half years ago when--sight unseen--they booked trips to stay with me in Las Vegas.  Yep, the three of us were complete strangers until that one Friday night when we converged in the airport.

As some of you know, Julie's posts have been getting fewer and farther between in recent months, and I believe Dar completely gave up her blog over a year ago.  Why?  They're happy.  And they're both in relationships; they weren't when they started blogging. 

Relationship take up a good chunk of time.  When Mike and I broke up last spring, I couldn't believe how much more time I had to myself.  I started putting together content for a book I was thinking of calling, How to Survive Your Day Job (Until You Can Quit Your Day Job).  I also started to put together ideas for another book, Cars I Have Loved, Men I Have Wrecked.  For me, there's nothing like personal angst and time to myself to get the creative juices flowing.  Hell, I wrote Bastard Husband during the most miserable part of my life.

I'd rather be happy.  Though I certainly am glad that I was able to write and publish that book.  Seeing it mentioned in the Wall Street Journal last week was a thrill, that's for sure.

Anyway, I've been thinking of cutting back and posting twice a week instead of three times.  I'm not going to, though.  I'm going to maintain the Tuesday-Thursday-Saturday schedule that I've had for the past three years as closely as I can.  I might be late now and then--or even miss a post entirely, as I did the day after Labor Day--but when that happens, please understand that instead of writing about life, I'm having fun living it. 

That said, I do love to create.  And I especially love to have created.  Finding the balance to create everything I want to create and still be able to live a rewarding personal life is key.  And oh, yeah--I still have to work a day job, too.  Long sigh...

As I'm sending out resumes and interviewing, it's becoming crystal clear that I'm continuing to bark up some wrong trees. I keep applying for permanent tech writing jobs when the reality is, the thought of sitting in a poorly lit cubicle all day writing stuff that I truly do not give a shit about makes me want to cry.  I like working as a contractor because that way it's only temporary and there's an end in sight, but why would I deliberately pursue a permanent position doing something I clearly don't want to do?  That's just crazy.

Since I got out of grad school in 1991, my career has had a dual focus in both technical writing and corporate training.  For the past five years I've been writing, writing, writing, and I am bloody sick of it.  I so need to get back into training.  I realize that on two interviews recently, I was practically flatlining as I spoke about my tech writing experience, and then bubbled with enthusiasm when they asked about my training background.  HELLLLOOOOO. 

Of course, I'm applying for training jobs as well, but I'm not seeing as many out there.  So this is where faith comes in.  I need to have faith that somewhere there's a company that would LOVE to have me in their training department or as a training consultant.  I can say with 100 percent certainty that I am a kick-ass trainer.  I always have received outstanding evaluations and, unlike some trainers who are more into "info-tainment," I make sure that participants actually learn.   It's so rewarding to show someone how to use new software or apply new sales techniques; I love to see how much more confident they are, how much better they feel about doing their jobs.

That's it.  I need to focus my energies toward something I do want, not something I really don't.  You know, I'm so brilliant at giving advice, I need to listen to myself sometimes.  And to you.  Any thoughts? 

Am I getting prudish on you?

Okay, I'd love to know your opinion.  This is a real live Halloween costume for kids that's in the stores like Target and K-Mart right now. 

Personally, I think this is creepy, Jon-Benet-ish.  "Sweet li'l treat" for whom???  I asked Mike what the hell this costume is supposed to be anyway, and he said, "I don't know.  A sexy witch?"

The costumed pictured is a size Small, which means it's intended to fit a 5-year-old.  Since when is a sexy ANYTHING an appropriate costume for a child?  The kid modeling it looks like a junior cocktail waitress; I can just picture this mini-Mae West sashaying through the race and sports book at Green Valley Ranch or flirting with the guys at the poker table.  Seriously, I'm surprised it doesn't come with a padded underwire, garter belt and a theater length cigarette holder.

Kids are already bombarded with sex in the media, and especially here in Las Vegas.  If you drive at all near the Strip, you'll see tons of cleavaged billboards and if you're really lucky, you'll pull up behind a taxi with a row of thonged asses staring back at you.  Lovely. 

So why encourage this sort of dress-up in young, make that very young girls?  Am I turning prudish or just getting old?  What do you think about this?

BIG news!

Holy crap, Bastard Husband: A Love Story was mentioned in this article entitled "The Best Love Stories" in the freakin' WALL STREET JOURNAL!  I just found out about it yesterday--thank you, Google alerts--and nearly plotzed when I read it.  Funny--I had just written a post about love. 

My little self-published book in the freakin' Wall Street Journal, in the same paragraph as The Great Gatsby and Romeo and Juliet!  I have no idea how that happened, but man, it's so cool that it did. 

Forgive me for saying once again that I'm really proud of my book.  If you're a regular reader of my blog, I just know you would love it. 

Man.  When you least expect it.

Why wouldn't you put as much effort into finding love as you would to find a job?

I have no idea how Chaz Bono did or how funny Charlie Sheen’s roast was last night—as of this writing, I haven’t even looked to see if my Facebook friends have weighed in. I was hanging out at the Alexis Park showroom, taking in the opening night of the World Series of Comedy, which is going on all week. My buddy Joe Lowers is the mastermind behind this event, so I’ll be helping him out as well as attending some comedy seminars. There’s no end to my busy-ness, and I know I have to start saying no to some things, but I definitely want in on this. As Warren Zevon said, “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

Anyway, today I wanted to talk about love. Yes, love, people! Like me, one of my best girlfriends is crazy in love, and no matter how our conversation starts, inevitably we end up gushing about how great it is to be in a relationship and how—despite what 70s-era feminism would have us believe—life is so, so much better when you’re sharing it with someone who is nothing short of amazing.

I’ve said recently that if you wake up in the morning, can see your image in the mirror and can take a proper piss and shit, then already it’s a good day and you have nothing to complain about. There are a couple of other essential blocks of life that my BFF and I feel should be in place as well. One is having a source of income that’s adequate for an enjoyable lifestyle. The other is having a loving partner.

They’re both important, but at the end of life, I can tell you I’m not going to look back and think, “Oh man, I created some beautiful technical documentation.” An income feeds your stomach; a loving partner feeds your soul. Yet we’re conditioned to believe that a loving partner is a “nice to have” rather than a component as equally essential.

If you didn’t have a source of income, you’d work like hell to find a way to get some money coming in, right? You’d be scrutinizing Indeed.com, contacting everyone in your network to uncover leads, and sending out resumes with the hope that you’ll find the perfect match for your skills and marketable talents.

But we’re not as proactive when it comes to finding the perfect match for our love lives; we kind of just wait for someone to come our way. Can you imagine if you took that approach to your job search? “I’ll just wait around. Surely the perfect job opportunity will present itself to me by sheer chance.” You’d freakin’ starve! And so a lot of people are starving in the intimacy department because they’re simply not making the effort to find someone. That’s sad.

If you want to find a partner, you have to put yourself out there. Browse through Meetup.com and look for a group of like-minded folks. Post a sincere profile on an online dating site—make it funny and I guarantee you’ll get attention. (I could start a cottage industry offering that as a service.) Get the hell out of the house, and don’t be afraid to do something you enjoy by yourself. Go to the movies or a comedy club. Check out the events at your local library. Go out and support live music or a poetry reading at your neighborhood coffee shop. Just get yourself in circulation.

As you know, I’m conducting a job search now. Every single day I do something to achieve my goal of finding a rewarding position. Similarly, if you’re looking for love, you, too, should take action every single day.

If finding a love interest is important to you, then put some energy behind that goal. Make it a priority. Why wouldn’t you?