The Fall of 69!!

For many people, today, tomorrow, next day, you may be getting the big Rs as I call it, I hope my take on this will help you survive. your R-fest. Yes, the date or mate has said, x-nay -- don't want you got someone else. The boss, the business partner has pulled out the pink slip -- don't want you. Even the dog has run away, died -- doesn't want you. For many of you that will feel like your CN Tower jumping time. It is so hard not to see any light in the black tunnel of machine gun rejection fire.

As I look back over my life I can remember the darkest before the dawn - The despair before the fresh air - The rift before the gift. You can call hell what you want but it seemed like that those succession of emotional kicks in my good life, or the peeing in my cheerios, had no end.

Yep Arlene's Pearl Harbor -- the Fall of 69. The love of my life was taking a hike -- but that's a footnote later. A disgruntled, jealous Manager was telling me to take a hike -- she found out I was applying elsewhere for my dream job -- a room with a view - Private Secretary. Didn't know Human Resources officer was my bosses bf (best friend) -bitch forever- - regardless she ratted me out and I was out of my idea of mecca employment - working at a University where I could get a good pick of the litter.

To add to the Fall to Hell, Fall from Happiness, Fall into Despair when I arrived home dragging my dejected, dazed self (you do sometimes feel dazed when undeserved bombs hit fast and hard) Herb, the king of get no sympathy here said, "well, figure out what you are going to do -- can't make the car payment - car goes Tuesday." Hello -- no Casanova, no career, no car. That is the moment when if you are mentally ill, you grab the floor lamp and knock him or anyone else nearby back into the Fall of 68, but I did not. I put my tail between my legs and headed down the long hall to my holding cell without the much needed padding.

So, as I sat in my room of rejection, totally humiliated and overwhelmed with life's injustices, and quickly drowning in a sea of justified tears, I had it out with God. Boy did I have it out with God. None of this would have happened if my supposed loving God was on the job and had my back. I felt he ( and it had to be a he -- a she wouldn't let these rejections happen) had not protected me.

I went total spazzo on God. How my life could be shambles in one quick swoop? I'd kept my moral compass when I wanted to be like my boozy, floozy, lying, stealing friends. I'd motorcycled for egg rolls in the pouring rain for sick old ladies, and this is what goodness got me -- a giant size portion of pain. You can bet I threw my Gold God Card in the trash next to my 3000 cigarette butts. Oh yes, my room was so thick with smoke, you thought I was holding a world's champion poker game. I contemplated suicide -- for me suicide is unhealthy living -- a rush into sex, drugs and hanging out at the race track. In my mind, I was on a rampage now to piss God off.

Anyhow, eventually before more hell broke loose, this time of my own doing, I abandoned all my insane thoughts and parachuted back to normal. I plodded through my daily despair, but a little idea popped into my bruised little mind. Work for the Government -- where in the hell did that insane thought come from? I fought it. To be a government clone -- ripping off my prize pendant with diamonds spelling UNIQUE. That was as ridiculous as getting a Communist to rip off his swastika. Well, beggars can't be choosers, so off I went to the hiring office, clutching my necklace for dear life and lo and behold God made a miracle happen. He had orchestrated my dream life and better -- I was getting a swanky private office with a view of a beautiful lake, limo and private plane travel , and status of working for a Cabinet Minister. Evidently I would be sitting all pretty like a poodle on a plush pillow with a better dating pool and classy parties galore. Sianara Carleton University.

Well home I strutted with my good news -- my rejection had now turned into a life of exception. And Herb now what did he say, " I should now trade in the little Mini Minor for a new gold Barracuda which would be more reliable and he would be glad to co sign for." Herb's girl needed a gold coach to carry his Star to the Stadium.

So what is all this rambling about? Just this -- when we are being rejected, rejected and again rejected -- is it a bad thing? Is it a good thing in disguise? Is God removing the crutches that are holding us back from our greatness. Are we living too small and missing great. If God doesn't remove the what you don't need, we will never get to what we do need. Kind of like pruning a plant. I'm sure if the plant could talk it would say, "drop those shears God -- ouch don't chop off those needed limbs." But once the plant grows taller and more beautiful than it thought possible "thank you God -- look where you knew I could grow to!"

In the Fall of 69, God had taken me from zero to hero and not only was I a woman with a view, but now given the green light to use my gift of writing as a Minister's Social Secretary. I wrote heart felt notes and letters of congratulation to constituents meeting their life milestones -- 50th anniversaries, team wins, births, graduations, etc. I expect those letters are still prized keepsakes in some dusty trunk waiting for grandchildren to admire and enjoy. You know, just like your prized autographed picture of Elvis. Many people were tickled pink to get a letter from the Prime Minister, Mayor, or some other city official (in those days they weren't as corrupt) and yours truly made it happen -- correction, God made it happen by putting me there.

So kids, God positioned me just where he wanted me! Hence, the joy of rejection, rejection and more rejection. P.S. As for the boyfriend, love of my life, father of my potential offspring, Casanova rejection -- he turned out to be Bipolar, Schizophrenic. Thank you God you removed the sniper and I dodged another bullet!! As always, I guess Father God Knows Best!!