Putting on a Good Facebook

I was musing out loud last night and said "Facebook is fascinating." Bob asked if I cared to elaborate. Even though he had that "I don't want to hear more words right now" look on his face. Truthfully I was processing and had no more to say in the moment.

Now I do. :-) Facebook has changed the number of relationships I can have at a time, the flow of information, the frequency of contact, and created new levels of relationship that did not exist for me before. It's also a new venue for expressing myself. If I reveal too much, I may get unwelcome comments from people I have not truly let into my "inner circle" of trusted friends. I don't like being commented on in general, so why invite what I don't like?

This is a quandary. I really like not having to wait for the "yearly Christmas letter" to hear what's going on in people's lives. I like sharing parts of my life and having a forum where I can be completely myself from day to day. I like being able to share my piano lesson business in a heartfelt way. I like staying in touch with people who would be difficult to stay connected to without this forum. Like my sister's friend who has known me since birth, or many of my high school friends.

Facebook is useful for recommendations and referrals. It's a place to vent. I vented about Juan Pablo -- the Bachelor. Then I felt remorseful. I don't really like the show and I just got kind of hooked in toward the end. I like looking at the beautiful St. Lucia scenery and all the pretty people and clothes. I'm a girl, after all. But they are just cartoon characters to me. Then the relationship part hit the fan and I felt like a voyeur. I felt kind of dirty. A lesson learned in public.

Most of our lives are much more public than they would have been pre-Internet. As a wannabe actress I had head shots printed and sent them to agents. I had to go places to build relationships that would further my career. Now I can do all of that from "behind the screen." And with this blog I feel like I have my own newspaper column. The drastic nature of this change strikes me sometimes -- and I want to think it through. Do I really want all of these relationships? What do I want to reveal? What's my goal? How do I manage my Internet time so that it's valuable and not a time-robber?

I see many more positives than negatives. It brings some things to light inside me that are worth a look. Online life is a unique dimension. It won't hurt me to get a little more time outside and away from the computer -- just to maintain the balance. But you just can't beat all the beauty the Internet can bring to your door on a rainy day! Here's to online sunshine!

Do you REALLY want to?

Two years ago I was laid off from a job I valued and hoped to have for a long time. I did not see it coming. It had never happened to me. I had the job for two years, and during that time I had six different managers. The lady who hired me left after two months. The subsequent managers decided to keep me, until manager number six decided not to.

She seemed like a shark to me. But I was not concerned. I knew that no one else was suited to do my job. I had always been the one to stay while others were laid off, and I would get their work. I guess she decided it was more economical to send out my work to freelance writers. Or maybe she wanted someone else in my job. I'll never know. Because she did not talk to me. Ever. Not a word. She had someone else call me shortly before my layoff and ask me about my processes, since "I was so good at my job." That should have been a clue, I guess. I was always happy to share. I did not feel possessive of my information. I'll never know what really went on in the minds of those who decided my fate. It was clear that I had no say -- none at all. "They" had the power to take away my salary and benefits and put me in financial peril. And I was not the only one who was let go that day. I was not able to get my things. I had to come back another day to do that. That felt demeaning.

So...I did not want to cry. I told them I knew it must have been hard for them and wished them well. I wanted to believe this was part of God's plan for me and I would be okay. I stuffed the pain. To feel pain felt like giving away my power. But it delayed my healing.

I've always had an easy time finding work. Not this time. The employers who did want me clearly mistreated their employees. It's true. I lasted a week in a job where I indirectly answered to a lady who was clearly passive-aggressive, elitist, and micro-managing. And just bat-$hit crazy. I had no say. In most other employment situations, I felt like I had a voice. What had changed? Was I missing something?

Then I had a powerful conversation with a life coach. He listened to my life story and concluded that I was a "powerful mother f#$%%er." I'll edit that to "Pow Mo Fo." The use of that language was truly what I needed. Why was I giving my power away? What did I need to do? Work for myself, that's what!

So I decided to "do my own thing" in advertising and marketing. I had business cards made. I went to leads clubs and Chamber of Commerce events. Something was off. It was like rubbing sticks together and not getting any fire. I concluded that I wanted to want to. That's different from really wanting to. My heart was no longer in advertising. I knew it was in music. But I could not see myself "competing" with Carrie Underwood, Pink, or Lady Gaga. At my age? Hmmmm. What to do?

While sitting in my hair stylist's chair, she told me about a client of hers who teaches piano with a program called Simply Music. And voila! The answer came! I checked it out and I am on fire. I love it. I'm happy, fulfilled, and redeemed. I am immensely grateful.

I still write and record my own songs, and I perform here and there. And I'm helping others discover their musicality, which fuels my soul.

Was being laid off the best thing that ever happened to me? No, I think not. But if it had not happened, this new life might not have happened. I had to let go of the good to receive the great. You can't make room for something new without getting rid of something old. And I could never feel strong by giving away my power to a person who did not care about me. God cares about me. And he made me musical and powerful. He had a plan. I just needed faith to find it. It's not enough to "want to want to." I had to REALLY want to. And it has made all the difference.

Missing you, Freddie Lu

It has been six years since my beautiful second mom, Frederee Louise Ray, passed away. She was 95, and I still was not ready to let her go. I feel it when the anniversary of her passing arrives. Something reminds me of her, and I feel the loss as if it just happened. Then I looked at the date. Oh. No wonder. My soul feels it.

I called her Fe-Fe, Freddie, or Freddie Lu. When she called me, she'd say, "Hi, it's your moms." She was born in Tishimingo Oklahoma, lived in New York, and moved to Los Angeles to work for actress Patsy Ruth Miller and care for Patsy Ruth's son, Timmy. She started working for my family in 1956, before I was born. When I was born, apparently my mom said "Frederee, this one's yours." I think there may have been some baby blues going on.

Frederee came to work at 9 am Monday through Friday and left at 5:30. She took me to the park, grocery shopping, and sometimes to her house in South Central Los Angeles. She knew all of my friends by name. She told me who was really my friend and who to watch out for. She caught me kissing a boy and told my mom. She took me walking to find my friend Zogzema's house, only to come home and ask my mom where Zogzema lived. My mom replied, "Oh, didn't you know? That's her imaginary friend." She helped me earn my Girl Scouts cooking badge. I remember her coming to work in tears during the Watts riots in 1968. She talked about race a lot. She said the whites and the blacks have to learn to stand together. I did not understand why it was an issue to anyone. Love comes in every color. And so does hate, I guess.

After Frederee retired in the early 1980s, we stayed in each others' lives. We talked at least once a week and visited each other often. When she was ill in the hospital and could only receive family visitors, I told the nurse I was her daughter. Frederee confirmed that her child was there to visit. The nurse watched our interaction and said, "This is unusual." She was charmed by Frederee. Most everyone was.

When I went through a very distressing divorce, I spent time with Freddie Lu and she gave me a Barry Manilow CD. She knew just how to make me feel better. She could sing. She could dance. And she was smart. She could have been a CEO.

I wrote a song for her, and the chorus is "Love many, but only trust a few. Learn to paddle your own canoe. Take care of yourself girl, that's your job to do. No man's gonna save you from the blues." Those were her words.

Mere words can't fully paint the picture. She was my rock, my mainstay, and my biggest fan. And she loved Bob. She called him "Bobio." She knew he would take good care of me. And he has.

I miss you Freddie Lu. I remember everything you taught me. I remember your smile, your laugh, and your voice. Her granddaughter said "When she loves you, she loves you hard." Thank you for teaching me about loving that way. Your soul shines in my life.

Another candle...

People seem to be quite curious about my age, especially lately. Example: "Sue, do you have kids?" "My kids are grown and I have grandkids." "What? Were you married when you were 12? You must be younger than I am!" Me: "Surprise is the right reaction!"

I like telling people I remember when Kennedy was shot. I like reciting other cultural references such as watching "Dark Shadows" after school or playing Bobby Sherman records. (yes, records) I still play some cassette tapes.

I guess it would be disheartening to feel like I look "old." But I truly believe age is a state of mind. And being happy with your age is a well-kept beauty secret. I've made friends with it.

I've known people who were old in their 20s, and I've known people who were young in their 90s. One in particular -- Frederee, my second mom. She is my "how to age" role model. She smiled a lot. She took an interest in people. She liked going places and doing things. She was open-minded and always learning. And she rarely complained. We were 50 years apart in age, yet I always loved being with her. I never thought of her as out of touch or unable to understand me.

I've always appreciated people with experience. In my 20s and 30s I hired vendors whose experience covered my behind. They knew their stuff, and I learned from them.

I like people with aliveness in their eyes. I want to be one of those people. I guess it helps that I've done a lot of things I wanted to do in my life. I've spent more time on the field than in the bleachers. I've lived, and I believe that there is more for me to do.

For anyone who believes that aging is painful because being young is better -- I say don't buy into that twisted thinking. Make the most of each day and year of your life. Auntie Mame said it best -- "Life is a banquet and most poor suckers are starving to death." I say there are two ages -- alive and not. And I'm glad to be alive at almost 55.