Bouncing Back

In December I quit my job without having anything else lined up. I intentionally wanted to take some time off because I was overly stressed out. My time off would be at least partially no work and no school, and possibly school with no work, which I was really excited about. However, the spring semester started January 29, and on February 1 I started a new job. So, back at it.

Why this job? In early January I found out I was accepted to an optional course that will take me to Namibia. The course spans summer and fall (7 credits, holy shit) and includes 10 days in the country working with conservationists on a particular issue in that region. For Namibia, that means cheetah conservation. But it's expensive. The course is over $3,000 not including airfare or extra expenses (souvenirs, extra travel days, extra snacks, etc.). Obviously I'll want to travel to other countries while in Africa so I'm looking at $5,000 bare minimum. For what I'm getting it's actually very affordable (7 credits, a flight to the other side of the world, unheard of educational opportunity, and a visit to a place I've been dreaming about for decades), it's just a lot all at once. I've been saving for this so I'm set, but definitely couldn't keep living on my savings for funzies.

This job also comes with the title I've been wanting: content and communications coordinator. Far more than SEO manager, this title is something the nonprofit organizations I'm interested in actually hire for, so having this on my resume is going to be really helpful. This role will give me much more relevant social media experiences and involves the kind of writing I'd like to be doing.

One of the most appealing things about this job is the flexibility. It's slightly less than full time, meaning if I need to not work a full 40 hours I don't have to (which will be a massive break from my previous full-time-plus job), and I'll be working from home a lot of the time, which gives me back that commute time. When I do need to meet in-person it's in a co-working space in my own area, so I can walk or ride my bike. Win win win.

That said, I'm also taking my two regular classes plus an independent study, totaling 6 credits this semester (the most I've ever taken at once was 5). Soooo I'm a little nervous that I've over extended myself.

Which brings me to the title of this post: bouncing back. It's kind of two-fold. I'm back to working and schooling, so I fully anticipate the same level of stress I quit my job to avoid. But it also means I very likely won't be doing much in the way of exercise. I didn't for several months in 2017 and it was brutal. I love running and miss it very much. The weight gain and general depressive state I'm in when not running suck, so running was one of my top priorities during my break (almost every day, even if it was only a mile). I also did a (very) little weight lifting with the free weights we have at home and loved the tone and strength my arms started to show. It's amazing how quickly my body bounces back after neglecting it for some time. I only had a month to really prioritize exercise and eating well and in that month lost some weight, fit better in my jeans, and felt good. Really good. Like I felt when I was running again after recovering from an ankle injury and surgery. I have a 5k next month, but by this time next year I'll be signed up for a bunch of races. It's encouraging that in only a month of running not even particularly far distances I'll feel great again, even after stopping for several months. Just need to remember that the yucky that I feel is temporary.

Edit: I ran that 5K faster than I've ever run anything! Finished under 25 minutes, which is a minute faster than I expected and two minutes faster than my goal. Felt really good to see that end time and be at the front-ish of the herd and to get the validation of the training paying off. Maybe a little extra good because it was raining, on a dirt and somewhat muddy trail, and I was wearing a tutu.

Just Another School Shooting

I heard the reports that there was a gunman on an elementary school campus in Connecticut Friday morning around 8:30, right when I got into work to start Twittering and Facebooking for my clients. At that time the Tweets weren't saying there were any deaths, so I kept scrolling, looking for something relevant to post or retweet.

Had I clicked on any of the links in those tweets I might have learned far earlier what happened. It wasn't until after 11am Pacific time when a coworker asked  if we'd heard about the 27 dead in the school shooting.

Wait... what?

Twenty seven. Dead. Most of them children.

Throughout the day I paid close attention to Twitter, waiting to see the latest as the story unfolded. My office was quiet for a long time - like the rest of the country we were shocked, horrified and saddened that such a thing would happen to 6 and 7 year old kids. The shooter was barely an adult himself at just 20. Why would he target classrooms of little kids?

There was the range of typical emotions I felt on Friday (anger, frustration, sadness, shock), but one I did not feel was surprise. When I saw that first tweet my thought was just another school shooting. I hoped no one was injured, and assumed that if anyone was it would be just 1 or 2 people, like what had happened just two goddamned days earlier in Oregon. The point was this had happened so many times just in the last 6 months that I very nearly brushed it off completely. It seems like there's always someone with a gun  going crazy and not caring if they die. For a long time, Columbine was a word everyone knew. Then so was Virginia Tech. These places were where innocent kids (and young adults) died because a crazy classmate wanted to inflict as much pain and suffering as possible. Now I'm honestly having a hard time remembering the names of the schools and towns where massacres took place over the last two years. This year was that place in Arizona where the state representative was shot in the head but survived, there was the midnight movie theatre shooting in Aurora, Colorado, a few people killed in a mall in Oregon, and now there's Sandy Hook in Newtown, Connecticut, a place I'm sure to forget after the next few mass shootings. 

There's not enough time in between shootings now to really commemorate each location. We all knew Columbine and Virginia Tech like we knew 9/11. There are kids alive right now who know nothing of what it was like before we killed each other on a regular basis and endured being killed by extremists. Taking off their shoes, being touched by strangers in an airport security line and being scanned for explosives is just how we fly planes now. I remember when the building in Oklahoma City was bombed: that was heavy news for a good week that caused my mom to cry for days. I remember feeling for the kids in that building, there only because one company provided daycare for its employees, and wondering why that man would do such a thing.  Now a school shooting (as horrible as an elementary school massacre is) is just one more tragedy.*

A second thought: there was a lot of misinformation reported on Friday. Other than me thinking no one had died, it was reported that the shooter was targeting his mother, a teacher at Sandy Hook, and her classroom. It was also reported that the shooter's dad's body was found at his house later in the afternoon. It was also reported that there were two shooters, brothers, and one had escaped to the woods nearby. All of these things (and possibly more things) are false. There was one shooter, and his father is still alive. His mother, not a teacher at that school, was found shot to death in her bed in the home she shared with the shooter (it was her guns the shooter stole and used). The shooter acted entirely alone, and his brother was unfairly arrested and questioned. The Huffington Post also had to edit a report that "misidentified" a Facebook profile as that of the shooter (major oops).

What's with journalists? Are they so excited to be the first to report something that they won't check to make sure it's correct? Does accuracy not matter anymore? Just because one cop or paramedic makes a remark or comments on something does not mean it's true. Plus, the reporters were going around to the surviving 7 year olds and asking them what they heard, what they felt, and how they got out alive. Fucking 7 year old little kids are being interviewed and asked what it was like to survive one of the worst school shootings in the country's history. I wonder how that's going to make them feel when they're old enough to understand what happened. Reporters should have laid off the kids. Talk to adults in the school, or parents after they found out their kids were safe... but leave the traumatized kids alone.

*Aside: Up until the first week of November of this year the there was a lot of debate between the presidential candidates, their VPs, and various other congress members and senators about who will keep us safer from extremists who hate our way of life and want Americans dead. Maybe it's time to focus less on outside forces and more on those within our ranks who want us dead (or at least some of us). 

I Get By

Maybe it's being American, maybe it's just me, but it's really difficult to be truly happy unless I'm doing something I love, or at least believe in. The majority of Americans hate their jobs and slave away because we have mortgages and dependent children (or at least rent and car payments and a princess cat) and it may be because we're told from a very young age that we can do anything we want, that all we have to do is figure out what we want to do and sure enough we'll find a way to make a living doing it. We hear stories of people who teach dogs to surf for a living, people who review restaurants and clubs for a living, people who find their niche, find a product or company or idea they can get behind and end up not just making a living or getting by but doing well. These people exist as a shining example to the rest of us that our mediocre jobs and mediocre paychecks don't have to be forever, that if we want something bad enough all we have to do is go get it.

But what it really feels like is a taunt. These people just show us that we will always be miserable because we did not luck out- we did not meet that eclectic investor who took a fancy to us on the beach and funded our start-up dog surfing company, because someone else was slightly more qualified than we were, because someone's niece or cousin was applying for the same job we were, and perhaps most of all because at the end of the work day the last thing we want to do is think about the jobs we don't have.

I recently met with a trainer at the gym I joined to discuss my goals, which is to run my next half marathon in less than 2 hours. I said that on a scale of 1 to 10 as to how committed I was to this goal I was an 8. I have no idea why I put that. I'm really more like a 5, as in I do really want to beat that time but I don't realistically think I can do so. Why? From 730 in the morning to about 7 at night my time is work or work related: getting ready in the morning, commuting, working, lunch break (in which I sit in my car), cleaning my lunch box, and preparing food for the next day. Add stopping at the gym on my way home for strength training and some treadmill time and I'm a solid hour plus stretching plus changing time, plus showering once I get home, and that time is only going to increase the more I do street runs that are 6+ miles. By the time I make and eat dinner after a typical day it's at least 9pm and I should be in bed by 11 to get the amount of sleep I want (ha, yeah right).

So, when do I look for that perfect job that I'll do well in, that I care about and that pays enough? The weekends are great, but again that's when I need to be doing those really long runs, when I can see my friends, when I can get some good writing in (I know this blog should really be the last thing I spend time on, in addition to puttering about on the internet, which has slowed to a trickle, but I hate not writing for myself after all day of writing for work), and when I can catch up on the sleep I inevitably miss during the week. Job hunting, tailoring your resume and a cover letter for each position, takes a long time. Plus, my resume needs an overhaul. It's overwhelming.

Every now and then I regret my educational choices and wish I stuck with biology like I planned in high school. Then at least I'd be in a field I was passionate about and could still be writing for myself, maybe with an animal blog. There are three things I'm highly passionate about: animals and the environment, social equality, and food. I want to get my Master's in sociology, but part of me still thinks that won't be enough. I miss working with (or at least among) animals and want very badly to get back to that. But schooling is a very unlikely option because it would require me to essentially start over, making my 4 years in college irrelevant and my 4 years of professional experience completely useless. Plus, by the time I would be ready to get the job I actually want I'd be in my mid 30s with tens of thousands of dollars in debt working in a field that will never pay that off. Knowing that feels hopeless.

There are other things I want that make it impossible for me to take much of a pay cut for that perfect job. I've been frustrated for so long that I still, 4 years out of college and with all of that professional experience under my belt,  have to watch every dollar I spend. The only reason I did the Hot Chocolate Race last week was because a bonus paid for it, but those bonuses are small, very rare and should be going to things like my car. I'm more than ready to be financially set, to stop thinking as soon as I finish paying for this one thing I'll be OK, I desperately need a new computer (and unfortunately only want a shiny, very expensive one), really need a new bed, and really want to take a community college class. Oh, and save for our road trip at the end of summer, start my personal savings so that I'll one day live in a nicer place with a dog, and have a night out every now and then that doesn't involve me picking the cheapest thing on the menu. It feels like a lot, but I also feel like I was promised that going to college would mean all of these dreams coming true, and I don't see how it's going to happen. Those I know who've made some of these things happen are either married and benefitting from their husband's incomes or had a lot of parental financial support. I had/have/wanted neither. But life this way can get frustrating.

A lot of the frustration in all honesty is coming from the current political situation. Every goddamn day I hear how one party is wanting to cut Americans off from health services (don't get me started on the current war on women), how all we need is a good Republican in Washington to clean up the mess, which is the same exact thing the Democrats said 4 years ago to clean up the previous Republican mess, and it's really fucking annoying. Seriously... I've only been paying attention to politics for about 8 years and this will be the third presidential election I've participated in, but I already think nothing is ever going to change. As long as one party is in office the other will blame it for everything that ever goes wrong and will be totally uncooperative just because it can, just because it's jealous that it's not in control. What fucking children. And we elect these people. We elect them because they call themselves Christian, because they play a wonderful game of  us versus them, because they make every promise in the book from January until November and then forget about us completely. It makes me not want to live here anymore so that I don't have to be governed by the most immature people in the world. Cutting school funding so people like me can't help themselves, cutting social services so people worse off than me can't learn to be independent, and giving presents to people better off than me to they can buy Ferrari's (the trickle down idea is behind it all, but who does that really help besides luxury car mechanics?). Unfortunately it's April and we've still got 7 more months of this bullshit to go. I just hope Obama wins and will take some dramatic measures during the next four years to make things a little better without worrying about reelection.

I know this climate isn't going to last forever but I really want it to be over soon. If it's this hard for me it's got to be murder on a lot of other Americans.

When I Grow Up

Sometimes it would be nice for life to be this easy.

When I was little I was going to work with animals and I was going to be a mommy. In high school I was going to be an animal trainer. In college I was going to be a journalist. Post college I was going to be a writer (whatever that meant). When the economy tanked and the opportunity to go to grad school presented itself I desperately wanted to hop on that boat, but I didn't know what to study. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life: biology sounded great but I'd need to completely start over and I still had no idea what I wanted to do specifically. Journalism still sounded fun to study, but the idea of being a reporter was totally unappealing.

This went on until last December. I was at my mom's for Christmas and it was just us two, talking and drinking wine. I was complaining about the sucky job market and how I wanted to get my master's but couldn't decide in what when she asked what seemed like a really obvious question: "Do you know what you want to do?" I started laughing (kind of hysterically) and practically shouted at her. If I knew what I wanted to do I'd be doing it, or at least taking the steps to do it.

The following months somehow sparked a change. I remembered the deadline to apply for schools was early February and if I didn't do it now I wouldn't start my master's until late 2012. Towards the end of my undergrad I took a few sociology courses because I'd always been interested in women's issues, but after two classes in which I learned women are valued less than men, no matter where you are in time or space, I got bored. In the years since sociology has stayed in the back of my mind; until a few months ago when I saw the deadline to apply was days away.

After years of not knowing what I wanted to do with my life, being confused about my hopes for love and wishing to return to the time and place I was happiest, I know exactly what I want. And knowing is weird. It's weird to have answers to big questions like life and love. My dream life, which I'm working towards, is to get my master's, work in a field I'm passionate about and fall in love with a certain someone.

The sucky thing about knowing what I want is recognizing that there are certain things I just don't have control over. I know what I want to study but certain admissions departments don't think I'm deserving of the opportunity, I know what I want to do but it depends on available jobs, and I know who I want to be with but a certain person still lives too far away. Finally knowing what I want is freeing, but it can also be debilitating when it's something I can't have.

At least a girl can dream, right?

Writing, Writing

Eh.

My hours are filled with writing words. My thoughts are all about writing. When I'm struggling to find a new, interesting way to tell prospective clients about garage door springs (they make a cool "sproing!" sound when they break?) I'm thinking about what I'll write at night. I don't necessarily want to spend all of my waking hours in front of a screen thinking about the right words and the perfect order they go in, but when I leave my job in the evening I'm already planning out my own words. Which could mean one of two things: I'm really a writer and can't get sick of it, or I'm doing a lot of self psychology.

I worry that the situation with my dad is doing the damage it usually does to people. Because I feel so rejected by him I feel other rejections so much more. That's so unfair not only to me but to the people in my life. When I first realized what my dad was doing I remember thinking of how it would affect my sisters and I in 6 months, a year, 5 years, 10 years. I wondered what our relationships with men would be like, if we'd be screaming for attention or looking for the wrong kinds. If I were in a committed relationship I'd be happier with it, glad there was a man I could look up to, someone I loved who wasn't a complete jackass. It kind of sucks not being in a relationship and wanting one, and having slight abandonment issues doesn't really help. You would think that being 25, a complete adult by anyone's measures, would make me exempt from those feelings, but apparently not. Hopefully, if I go down the sociology path, this will give me good thesis ideas. If nothing else, maybe I can at least use my experiences for good.

It makes sense for me to be drawn to sociology. Researching, case studies, writing, and probably endless reading seem to be involved. I already have those skills. It would be so exciting to use them for something I'm so interested in.

The Month Of Love

Ah, February. Are you the reason I got that lovin' feeling when I left my apartment tonight, even though I was just going to work? Yeah, I didn't think so either.

But what caused it? Is all this running influencing my endorphins? Am I excited about making some positive changes? Or am I thinking about the prospect of going back to the job that made me the happiest I've ever been? Or could it just be all the heart decorations in windows, fresh flowers in grocery stores, and an extra lovey kitty?

Chuchumia brightens your day.

It's no wonder I'm such a happy camper the last few days– there's so much to be excited for! My family is coming to visit next weekend, I have Super Bowl Sunday off for like the second time in a decade, I get to sleep in tomorrow as late as I want, I'm happy about my living situation, and my future suddenly seems not so far away. And I'm excited about it, looking forward to it, like my life is a book that I simultaneously want to finish because I can't wait to find out how it ends but also want to go slowly and enjoy the experience because it's such a good one. Plus, I feel super accomplished every week just for running, and got a nice reward today when a shirtless guy ran past me with his two beautiful Weimaraners. Trying to keep up with them was far more motivating than any song on my iPod could be.

Then there's the job prospect. I'm not sure about returning to photo caravans. On the one hand, I loved that job so much and was retardedly happy that summer. But on the other hand, I still have nightmares about flightline and the anxiety makes me really not want to go back. But again on the one hand, maybe I need to remind myself that there are people at the Park who care about the animals and the guests. And maybe it would be good to go back to the place that makes me happy... After all, there's nothing in the world better than seeing giraffes and rhinos every day, or being around people who are as excited about it as I am.

See how happy I was? That was every day.

So we'll see. If I go to grad school and can't find a "real" job this might be a good opportunity. I'd just need to get over that pesky anxiety...

Serious Business

Serious cat is serious.

February is the month of love. February is also black history month. But for me, February is serious business.

And what better way to get the point across than with pictures of cats I found on the Internet?

This month my to do list has some important bullet points: peak in my running (2 weeks!), take a terrifying test (5 days...), get my shit together (3 weeks), get through a wedding (1 week), and get a new job (3 weeks). All of these things have to be done this month. The job only has to be found this month for my sanity, but my sanity is a pretty big deal. So for the next few days I'm swearing off the Internet, for the most part (I do have an addiction, after all), and spending my waking non-working non-football-celebrating moments studying and being otherwise productive. Important things are happening. I gotta try my best to not fuck it up.

Subliminal Advertising

You know you gonna buy that Hershey's syrup.

I think Facebook is trying to tell me something.

A while back Facebook decided the ads on profiles should be somewhat relevant. If you didn't like an ad you could remove it and were given a list of reasons to choose from to state why you didn't agree with the ad, from it being irrelevant to it being spam. So it's gotten a little better. At least now I'm not seeing ads for getting pregnant (but then again, now my status is single; at least Facebook isn't encouraging single motherhood).

But, now it seems Facebook thinks I need a boyfriend. Here's a sample of the ads on my profile:

Are you simple or sexy? Take a style quiz to determine your perfect fashion preference. I'm not sure I need an online quiz to determine if I'm simple or sexy. Everything I own is comfortable; there is nothing in my closet (except for one pair of heels I bought for a Halloween costume) that is fashion before comfort. The website is all about shopping celebrity and designer fashions and analyzing your style. Is this suggesting I need to update my style if I have any hope of getting a boyfriend? Kind of feels like it, especially when the next ad I see is:

Make him addicted to you. Learn the "secret psychology" to making a man fall in love with you and hooking him into a long term relationship. (Facebook says I've been single too long.) The website is run by a married woman who claims these secrets helped her save her relationship and turn it into a 20-year marriage. And you could too! All you have to do is sign up for membership and you'll attract men like magnets. There was a similar ad a few weeks ago promising to hook your man forever just by saying one thing. I couldn't help but guess that one thing was "I swallow." And if these tricks fail, there's always:

Earn a UCSD MBA. If you can't go slut and the "secret psychology" doesn't work there's always the nerds. Go for higher education and maybe you'll meet a nice man in class. It's like what college for women used to be before we realized we kick ass: go to college to spend some time not living with mom and dad, graduate with an engagement ring and spend the rest of your life forgetting anything you might have learned in those 4 years. But you can't go all CEO because ball busting women are just not sexy. However, these methods for grabbing your man could fail, and you might as well give up. Hence:

San Diego bucket list. At the very least I can live a full life doing fun things in my city alone. Manless. But there's one saving grace. The URL includes the words "living social," which tells me it's yet another means of meeting potential men. However, when I go to the website I find the best daily deals for Washington DC. Um, Facebook? I live in San Diego. I've never even been to Washington DC. Or Washington state, for that matter. I'm not looking to meet a man not in San Diego. If I were, well, I think everyone knows that story.

Not Your Typical American

So true.

I got into a conversation the other night with some German and Spanish students about language and culture. I love talking with them because it's like speaking a new dialect of American English; foreigners that come here have been taking classes but only really start to learn the intricacies of our language after living here. One German student was explaining how he was laughed at after learning and using one of our idioms (pronounced "eye-dee-oms"). We discussed how long it takes a foreigner to pick up a language (3 weeks of immersion), and when you know you've really mastered a language, like automatically counting, dreaming or telling jokes in that language.

Quite often I'm asked by new students where I'm from. I always say California, then "near Los Angeles" if they ask further. Sometimes I'm pegged for being from the East Coast (and not just by students- random strangers I talk with think that, too) and a few times I've come off as European. I assume it's some combination of my skin color (very Mediterranean), that I'm not the stereotypical American girl (read: blonde), and maybe something to do with me driving a giant van full of kids in a skirt. They also always ask me if I like San Diego better, which of course I answer with a wholehearted yes. Without fail, all the students have the same opinion of San Diego: it's chill and full of friendly people. San Diego is not like New York or Chicago, other cities our foreign students frequent, and that's always said positively. I feel like California is separate from the rest of the United States, and I think the students pick up on that. I hope the feelings they get from San Diego are the ones they apply to all of the States, because everyone I've seen leave has been sad to go back. They make friends, learn the culture and feel like they fit in.

A financial analyst from the East coast was visiting my boss and I picked him up and took him back to campus, where he was staying. I was expecting someone older, but the guy who got in was young. We talked about my job (we're the only campus that has shuttles), my background and he asked why I'm not teaching. "You're already an EF employee and you have a degree in English. It seems obvious," he said. Well, sir, it actually does seem obvious. My favorite part of my job is talking with the students and discovering what it was that made them want to learn English and want to learn it in San Diego. A couple of the students even told me they learned more English just by talking with me in the van than in class. Which makes me think back on how language was taught to me: Spanish class was all grammar and sentence structure, things I'm not very good at explaining in English, so my Spanish skills are poor at best. Is this how we teach English to foreigners?

Just for fun.

As a shuttle driver I form a special bond with the students that teachers and other staff don't. I take them away from the school (which is in the middle of nowhere) to the beach, or downtown or shopping or the movies. I take them clubbing and blast dance music for them. The shuttle is their ticket away from the stress of school and because I'm the driver they feel like they can be honest. If I do teach I'd like to keep a few shuttle shifts- you learn so much more in the van than you do in the classroom, and that learning goes both ways.