2009

A few months ago, the owls came. Perched in pine trees and allowed my dogs to howl and howl at them. Were they a harbinger for what would come next?

Europeans believed that raptors and birds of the crow family were carrion-- war birds that feasted on death and signaled that the reaper was close at hand. Caesar said as much in Shakespeare's "Julius Caesar."

Symbolically, owls were also known as the bird of wisdom. Perhaps this was due to their flight and speed acuity and especially their keen ability to see in the darkness; a skill that humans admired as it is so easy to lose one's way when the darkness falls.

"I don't scare easy. I don't fall apart when I'm under the gun. You can break my heart and I'm not gonna run, I don't scare easy for no one/ I'm a loser at the top of my game."-----Tom Petty

The year of 2009 started out devastatingly....Last Christmas I barely made it out of frozen Portland, all but my airplane grounded due to snow. I wanted to see my family and did, and saw Amelia in the apartment and life I wished could be mine. I took one look at my cat Phoebe lying next to my mom under the covers and I knew then that I didn't want to leave. Dragged my ass back to PDX where I realized how lonely I was. Wanted and deserved a pet, something to love. Found Miss Kitty on the chair under my window. Took another cat in and found the limits of a friendship I thought would be there and have my back forever. Discovered a new friendship with a fellow writer. Mara took me in during those dark weekends. As did Lora and Emily. Almost lost Miss Kitty. Miss Kitty and I are told to move out and started to look for a new place where I could find companionship. Did that and was laid off. At this point, saddened beyond tears that I couldn't stay for my beloved Portland spring and summer. April. Packed up the car, almost cried at the Oregon/ California state border. Still pining for Sean. Got home. Restless, listless and felt completely lost. Freelanced for Pasadena Weekly. Sat at coffee shop typing away in the heat and look to my left, notice a good looking man that seems very familiar. Joel Garcia? Yes. Exchange numbers. Go out. Butterflies and kisses. Carnovsky tea parties and meeting new people. Front page feature story for Pasadena Weekly. Rekindle old friendships and gain new ones. Good people all around. May/ June, Gallus and I no longer dating. Saddened and try to kill pain. Put myself out into the world and meet Greg. Good, good man. He shows me they exist, those men that are kind and sweet and ones that have loving hearts---ones that can love me. Stray and hurt him. Sorry, so sorry. Los Angeles Magazine contacts me. I start interning and writing for the publication's website. July 29, Lucy's 51. Young man, head bent, sitting in the shadows facing the door. I stand there and look at him. Andrew. He finally looks up from his phone and I shake his hand and say, "Hi, I'm Carolyn," full of nerves, so nervous, I'm about to jump out of my skin. Can he see I'm shaking? Peach flavored drink later he takes my hand and tells me how pretty and feminine it is. He looks at me and brushes the bangs off my forehead. Walking towards Warner Brothers at a crosswalk and he looks down and kisses me. Sit in my car at end of night and smile. Early August. Andrew drives me to the beach. Rock scaling. Packed lunch of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and water bottles. Sun hitting his eyes harshly. Makeshift tent with his jacket to shield our eyes. Drive up the coast, into Ventura. Gained boyfriend and relationship. Drive to Griffith Park Observatory where we talk on a hill looking at that full moon. Start working as a Page for CBS. Paycheck and future possibilities. August 29, one month. Special day and night. October 3rd. Celebration of my birthday at Getty Villa and fancy dinner. November, he is present at our Thanksgiving dinner table. He feels welcome in my house. December. I scare him into thinking I might run. He says his anxiety over me leaving is outweighed by his love for me.

The year is winding down and I can't help but look back at my progress. I went from a job that paid the bills but not the soul. Came home and was pleasantly surprised to be embraced lovingly by old friends. Relationships strengthened and I met more good people. I now consider myself extremely lucky because I have a great group of new and old friends who care about me. And I have a very good man that loves me. And I love him.

At the top of the year, I feared I no one outside of the Portland Sentinel would publish me. I've now written for two additional publications. The year's not over yet and that's fine with me, because it's been the worst of times and it's been the best of times.