UPDATE: NEW "LETTERS FROM SUSAN".

UPDATE: NEW "LETTERS FROM SUSAN."
A few weeks ago, I published a letter from an ol' college friend, Susan, right here in this blog. Her current challenges were inspiring, because she refuses to give up, and bravely--as always-- shoulders on.I think kids, you'll find her as outrageously witty, tender, and inspiring as I did.


Just got back from a job interview at a urologist's office. Keep your fingers crossed. The lady I interviewed with seemed to like what I had to offer. It would be a $5 per hour increase from what I'm making at Walmart. You'll laugh about the following:

I was painting a the inside of a house when I got the message that she wanted to interview me today. It was 3 p.m. and she wanted to see me at 4 p.m. No time to get home to get clothes, especially with the monsoon that tore through the area right as I got the call. Lucky that the house I was painting belongs to a friend who is about my size. I cleaned up, got dressed in a reasonable outfit of elastic waisted scrub pants and a short-sleeved top. The ensemb' was finished off with a pair of white nursing oxfords I found in the back of the closet. A bright yellow poncho completed the effect I had half an hour to get there through the pouring rain and a chronically fogged windshield (A/C's out).

While walking into the building, I notice that my right leg seems taller than the other, and almost feels like . . . like, oh darn -- I look down and, sure enough, I'm wearing a pair of white nursing shoes alright, but their respective mates are back in the closet AND THE RIGHT ONE HAS A HIGHER HEEL THAN THE LEFT. "Okay," I think, "I can just bend my knee a little as I walk and maybe she won't notice." I hobble onward. As I walk, the left shoe feels more and more uncomfortable - almost like there is an insert or orthotic inside. "Great, I got one of Peg's special arch support shoes." Somehow I will overcome this. I am determined.

I get to the office and fill out the form. I go to put a slip of paper in the front pocket of the scrub pants - and the pocket is not there! It's in back! MY PANTS ARE ON BACKWARDS! It's almost time for my interview AND THERE IS NO TIME TO CHANGE!
She calls me back to the office, and I try to pull off a confident sure-footed walk while pulling the back of my shirt over the front of my pants. I then gallantly begin my job interview where I am determined to show them what an organized, forward thinking, responsible person I am.

End of story - the interview went well. She senses I may be the person she is looking for. I may be called back for a second interview with the doctor. She has a couple of more people to interview, so say a prayer, keep your fingers crossed, light a candle and burn some sage. I'll know by Monday.

Final funny. When I got home and removed the uncomfortable left shoe, I discovered my foot had been resting alongside a rather large, rather hard, plastic clothes pin.

Sigh . . .
Love ya.
will write more later.
Susan



And then, I (Lisa Allender) received this letter from Susan, just two days later, with this in the subject line:



The lady I Interviewed With, Got Fired.

The office still knows I am interested in working there. And now they are very, very short-handed. I am so disappointed - she gave every impression that I was to meet with the doctor today. She even said at the close of the interview that they would love to have me work there.

I keep looking for the golden lining in this cloud of a life, but all I find is more raindrops.

Love you,
Susan

Once again, Susan manages to detail her disappointment, but always with a sense of hope. Finally, the letter to me (Lisa),below, details her dark history, but also describes the triumphant ending which she herself is creating!Thank you, everyone, for your comments at Lisa Allender Writes. As you'll see, I'm not the only one who appreciates them!

I just read the comments on my letter in your blog. Wow! People are really supportive, and I want to thank them for their words of encouragement. Several of them pointed out something I have thought long and hard about -- my marriages. I always wanted a home, a family, the give and take of a relationship that could stand tall through the tough times and rejoice in the little triumphs. Life and all that we that know is not perfect. I mourn the fact that I may never share with a loved one the joy of growing old and more imperfect with each passing year.

My first marriage was my best. We were the best of friends. We dated and eventually lived together for years before "tying the knot." Church was the center of our lives. I converted to Catholicism and loved (and still love) the rich meaning every part of the mass held. Towards the end of the marriage he did some things that disgust me to this day. I couldn't stand the hypocrisy of his holy behavior in church and his awful behavior at home. After much soul searching and counseling, I left.

Ten years later I married again. I had no hint of the violence of which this man was capable while dating and engaged. He was a retired executive and community leader and was well trusted by others. I realize now that his enraged attack on me and my cat may have been the first hint of a degenerative brain disease that eventually killed him 2 years ago. I put him in jail and lived in a battered woman's shelter for awhile. It was in that place, with the windows covered with foil and security camera's outside that I realized it is not enough to survive tough times, you must triumph over them. I ate my meals by dipping a knife in baby food and sliding it between my teeth. I did chores. I attended counseling sessions and talked with other bruised and saddened women, and tolerated their children who played violent-tinged games. The same hurt look was in all of our eyes. Then one day, while washing our mis-matched dishes after a wonderful dinner of chicken stew, I began to sing to myself. I hadn't done that in so long. I knew I would be alright. I got training as a CNA - took a lot of extra shifts and saved my uncashed paychecks while I house-sat for several months. The day I walked into the bank and turned my paychecks into a cashier's check for the down-payment for my little home was my day of triumph. It told him I definitely was not coming back - no matter how many dozens of roses, beautiful cards and offers of dinner he sent. When he came to the house, I would not let him in. The indentation left by his fist is still on my front door.

That's why it's so important that I save my house. It saved my life.

Good news Lisa -- today I caught up the house payments! The mortgage is current. It took almost a year and working 2 and 3 jobs, but it's done. Now to keep it that way. Now to get the other bills caught up, I pray my debtors will be patient with me.

Also, last night Walmart hired me to work overnights in their cosmetics department. It's $1.50 more per hour! I'm so thrilled!

One little step at a time, even if you have a clothespin in your shoe!

Love you Lisa. Got your voicemail. No $$$ on the phone to call you. Sounds like you and Hansoo had a wonderful time! Your description of the food had me drooling. Of course you can still use my words - if it helps to put a face on the struggle millions of Americans are experiencing now.

I saw that Oprah today will do a show on "What Class are You Now?" I hope she handles the sociological sinking of a great portion of our society with grace. Otherwise, she will rub salt into the wounds of many, many hurting people. I know because I have been, literally, a few days away from living on the street. This from a well-educated woman who has held highly responsible positions, helped found several non-profits, rubbed elbows with powerful politicians in my state and who had a pair of red Farregamo spike-healed shoes in her closet. Banquets and concerts and board meetings were my life. Nothing prepared me for what I am experiencing now. A lot of days I feel lower than dirt. When the creditors press me, I feel like a criminal. So yes Oprah, I have sunk several rungs on our social class ladder. (And I hate the use of the term social class, it does not belong in America, it does not belong before God.) But Oprah, dear Oprah, I do not want a hand out. I do not want a hand up. I just want to find a crack in this brick wall I've run up against so I can claw and scratch and climb my way out of this mess.

Susan

I hope all of you, whenever you encounter a challenge, will remember Susan, and her Herculean efforts to do better. To achieve more.

Continued success, Susan, and to all the readers here at Lisa Allender Writes.Keep the faith.

Peace, kids.

VICTORY FOR SEALS. AND, AS PROMISED, "LETTERS FROM SUSAN"

Big victory in Europe, for Harp Seals!Keep up the great work, kids.
Check out this update, below, from The Humane Association.
https://community.hsus.org/humane/notice-description.tcl?newsletter_id=33355002

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A few days ago, I promised to publish some e-mails from my college pal, Susan. I've not seen her in over 28 years. She found me through the internet, and I am thrilled to be back in touch with the woman who talked late into the night with me, as we curled up in our dormitory rooms. Back then, we discussed love, life. We laughed. We made plans for our futures(her--artist/photographer, me--actress).
When we had that first phone call, we talked about how many of our dreams had come true:her--art work, photography, me--acting(and writing!--a dream I did not know I had, until recently!). We talked about our frustrations--both of us have worked many different jobs, to support our ambitions for our avocations.We spoke of our disappointments, mostly in relationships. She spoke of some incredibly hurtful relationships. Relationships with men who verbally, and then physically, abused her.
How she managed to get out of two bad marriages, with damaging men, and how lonesome she was, for many years, before risking her heart with a new man. How that marriage ended when that husband suddenly abandoned her. How grateful she is to have companion animals who love her.
Susan is a hard-working, capable woman, and she is proof that one can survive anything, learn from it, and become the stronger because of it.
Here is part of her story, in her own words:
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I feel like a big dummy. I've had this cell phone for 2 years at least and now it seems totally lost. It's not in any of its' usual hiding places. I had just put some minutes on it so we could have a long conversation. As I said in facebook, my scedule keeps changing at walmart. Now I don't have your phone # or anything -- it was all on my trusty phone. Darn it. I miss our talks.

Been reading your blog. Always interesting, informative and sensitive. What you said about Walmart not paying their people enough is so true. Each pay period I have to divvy out the $$$. House, water, electric, gas for car, insurance for car and food. If I get it wrong, it's a mad scramble before the next paycheck. I never completely pay on anything, I never completely fill the tank and I always look at the pantry with worry. A few times, when I was making bigger house payments to keep my home out of foreclosure, we ran out of food a few days before payday. Neighbors dropped off canned goods, bread and eggs. I ate at the Salvation Army on my days off. The new frugality is not just making your own home-made tea infusions - it's being grateful when someone puts a box of teabags in a sack they hang on your fence and being thankful that the water company would accept a half-payment so you have the water to boil and make that tea. The new frugality is not taking cooking lessons so you can cook restaurant meals at home to save money (as was highlighted on the news tonight), it is purposely walking your dog by the street-side trash bins at a local Burger King and waiting for no one to be around so you could lift the lid and see if there was some fresh partially eaten food for her. I sqatted by her as she inhaled her fries, nuggets and burger bits (hey, she likes it when we run out of food!). How far down I would have to go, I wondered, before It would be me eating this "feast?" A homeless man was on the corner, looking at us, but not looking at us in the way that gives privacy to people who live their lives on public display. I realized then that I may have just taken food he was planning for himself and fed it to my dog. I felt shame. After she slurped up the last bit, I grabbed the papers, threw them back in the trash, and hurried down the street away from the man.

There are so many people like me out there. I'm earning what I earned in 1986. I send out resumes several times a week. I network, I apply for every higher paying position that comes open at Walmart, something, anything to move up and earn more and feel like I can breathe again.

Sorry to be so verbose. Something about the way the media is hyping this "new frugality" got under my skin. Pass the word on through your blog if you feel comfortable using my words. Love you. Gotta go.

Susan
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I was so moved by what Susan wrote me, I felt compelled to share it. I did, of course, get her permission to publish her letter to me, here.
She continues to write me. Please keep Susan(and all who are trying to navigate through this economic crisis) in your thoughts and prayers.

Peace, kids.

ESQUIRE MAGAZINE FOR THE FIRST TIME IN ITS' 75-YEAR-HISTORY, IS ENDORSING A PRESIDENTIAL CANDIDATE. READ WHY, at this link:
http://www.esquire.com/features/esquire-endorsements-2008/esquire-endorses-barack-obama

When you read the article, you might be bothered that Esquire's editors come down a bit hard on Obama regarding certain things. Like how they wish he'd been more clear, initially, about the type of change he'll bring.
Like how they could've supported McCain-- long-ago, that is.
Keep reading, and if you're already an Obama supporter, you may find new reasons to be supportive! For those of you who are still uncertain, I hope you'll read the op-ed with an open mind, and an open heart. The editors of Esquire give a litany of reasons why Obama is now the ONLY viable candidate.
As I've been saying for months now(before this economic crisis became a so-called "game-changer"), Obama is going to win, and by a much larger margin than the pundits and "predictors" believe. The percentages might be only a few points apart, but I know we'll see a "sweep" of many formerly "red" states. Purple is the new Blue!
Peace, kids.