Unsurprising Surprises

Since my early college days until pretty much now I've encountered people who have been surprised that I can write. This baffles me because I've always loved it, but the more I think about it the more it makes sense that people would react with surprise in finding out I can write decently well.

The first reason, which is the one I'm least willing to admit to myself, is that writing is still considered an art form, and when people say they're artists we just kind of assume they like to paint on the balcony but only their mothers think they're any good. Even though I tend to look at writing in a more scientific way, doing diligent research and having a well thought out plan, it is therapeutic (that's how it all started), and is an expression of myself. That I happen to be able to apply those skills to be useful to other people is the surprising part.

The other reason may be because I'm a girl (damn, I'm turning 27 in a few days... maybe I should start calling myself a woman). Women and girls are still, and probably will always be, considered far more emotional than rational, and when doing any sort of art or subjective work, like writing, we assume that emotional side will come through. I'm not exempt from this: when other women tell me they're artists or designers or something I go "well that makes sense" (though when I meet other women writers I don't have that immediate thought... strange?). This blog, since it's mine and I can do whatever I want with it, gets emotional. But my life is going to be emotional and when you tend to write about your life that'll show through. But like half the time, or maybe even more, I write about things that are going on that affect other people or animals. Sure I'm stepping in with my opinion, but again, this is my blog, so that's allowed. 

When I was starting my internship back in college I asked the editor if I could write an article for publication. It took me a few months to convince her, partially because it was for a parenting magazine and I clearly had nothing to contribute to that, but also because it was a magazine that was well respected and widely read, and they obviously needed to make sure the content in it was useful and appropriate. How much could they really expect from a young, childless intern? However, when I finally submitted my first article the feedback I got from the editor was "You can write really well. I had no idea." Damn I was proud. They let me write a handful of other articles, which were obviously edited a little for tone and audience, but still, I got published. 

Recently I was told something similar by two coworkers. One told me he'd seen this blog and knew that I was a capable writer and that the client of his I'd be taking over would be in good hands as far as the blog writing went. I was pretty pleased to hear that from a colleague. Just over a week ago another coworker said almost the same thing: he hadn't originally voted for me to join the  team, preferring another candidate, but after working with me the last two months and seeing my abilities, writing included, said I'd proven myself and he was glad I was part of the team.

While I feel like these little surprises others feel shouldn't be surprises at all, I also feel glad that they've come to those conclusions about my writing. It's something I love to do, take pretty seriously, and is supporting me (less so now, but still). I would hate to learn the oposite, though I doubt anyone would actually come up to say that to me, so hearing that I'm surprisingly good at writing is always nice to hear, even if I don't think it's surprising.

In Which I Am An Adult

I'm a Thundercat!

At least, that's what it's starting to look like.

For the first time in my whole life I have business cards. With my name on them. And my work email. OMG.

And I have, like, a million. (Alright, the box says it's just 500.) Now I can drop a business card in those little jars for the free lunch! Or, you know, network.

They seem to have come just in time, too, because I'll be going to my first professional networking event next week where someone might actually want one. (Unlikely, since the event is hosted by a fellow Thunder employee and will probably be attended by much of the office, which is comprised of people who are savvier than I and who also have business cards.)

Other than my business cards, very adult things have been happening around me. While I'm still not counting my chickens before they hatch and waiting until my 3-month probationary period is up, I have to admit it's looking like I'm in. They're putting my photo on the wall of employee faces, I'm writing for the company blog later this month (which I'll be bragging about here in a week or so), I'm the account manager for multiple clients, and they did just give me 500 company business cards with my name on them. And a mug. Also, this might be the year I finally join the ranks of the working insured. That's right: health care might be right around the corner. So that's exciting.

Adult things have been happening in my personal life, too. Another first for me is watching someone close to me plan a wedding. Other than seeing random tidbits from former friends and acquaintances on Facebook (and lately seeing more wedding photos of strangers than I ever thought I'd see), I've never been privy to the process. Having it happen in my own apartment is eye opening and interesting. 

Which leads me to another adult occurrence: looking for an apartment on my own. I did this once before (I still miss Community) and it made me feel very grown up. Having to have a roommate because you have a shitty job that barely supports you will very quickly make you feel like a child. My roommate moving in with her fiance (an adult thing to experience second-hand) in a couple of months, combined with my relative security in my new position means I'll not only have the opportunity to live alone again, but have the means. And I might even step it up to a one-bedroom, rather than a studio.

Which leads me to my final nudge into adulthood: the topic of living with the boyfriend. Seems like I can't go more than a week or two without being asked if we're moving in together, both by close friends and people who barely know us. So... I guess I'm at that age now where it's acceptable, even expected, that you live with your significant other after a certain amount of time. This is perhaps the most baffling adult feeling: I'm so used to people not asking that in my relationships, people expecting us to live apart and with roommates, people who would have been surprised if I'd lived with a boyfriend. Not anymore. Which means that when we do start living together people will probably be supportive and happy for us, not surprised and asking questions like I would have expected.

Plus, even though I have a lot of debt now (because people are jerks), the boyfriend and I have solid jobs that will allow us to save for traveling. By spring I'll be able to pay off my debts and save up for an East Coast trip. And traveling definitely makes you feel pretty darn grown up.

Calm The Fuck Down

This is what I need to tell myself on a far more regular basis.

And possibly post more anteater pictures...

Anyone reading this somewhat regularly since... well, I started, knows that I was loosely diagnosed with eczema. I'm still not 100% convinced this is what it is, especially since my symptoms are pretty much all wrong. The only thing that still makes it look and act like eczema is the all over itchy rash that makes me want to claw my skin off.

Anyway, I've discovered that whatever it is is stress induced. I've been to Planned Parenthood a few times this year alone issues that could be tied to whatever skin rash I have. The last time I went she asked me if I felt stressed or worried in my relationship (resounding no) or in life. I said, "well, I'm always stressed," in a nonchalant, this-is-typical-for-me way. Because it's true. There's always fucking something.

This time I've got it pared down: started a new job (3 month probationary period, looking at it like an extended interview, trying to be the best); sometimes I feel totally overwhelmed in my new job because I'm surrounded by some really smart people who know what they're doing and who are giving me very real responsibilities; some jackwad ran into my car and caused me $800 worth of repairs that my full coverage insurance won't cover; and the cherry on top is some other jackwad stuck a business card on my car window which slipped into the door frame as I rolled the window down because I didn't notice until it was there until it was too late. Boom, stress rash. And then I freak the fuck out and try to figure out if it is in fact eczema by looking at photos and descriptions online, which just makes me itch more.

But I honestly shouldn't be that stressed, definitely not enough to cause a rash to break out on my arms and legs. I did just get back from a very lovely vacation; I'm very happy in my job and mostly unworried about the probationary period because they seem to like me a bunch and the fact that they are giving me big responsibilities is telling; even though I sometimes feel overwhelmed the very next day I feel like I have a handle on things and that I'm just as smart as my coworkers; I can afford my car repairs (I'm just mad that I have them); taking on a very small bit of debt when I have a steady income shouldn't freak me out.

HA!

The vast, vast majority of my worry and stress stems from money (thanks, mom and dad). I know what makes me happy and I've pretty much got everything I need and want: my cat who sometimes loves me, a job that fulfills me, a boyfriend who adores me, an apartment I'm going to be sad to leave, a roommate I'm friends with, an easy 10 minute walking commute, a neighborhood and city I belong in, and dozens of opportunities every week to satisfy my little desires. But I just wrapped up debt and started to save up for things I want, rather than just the things I need, before being unemployed for a brief period, which added to a vacation did give me back some credit card debt, which I had been happy to be rid of. Add to that my new car repairs and the car insurance I still haven't finished paying off (all thanks to timing) and I've got myself some saving to do. Plus, there are the things I've wanted for a long time that I would much rather not postpone anymore: a new bed, my own apartment, and (maybe) an iPhone. As long as I wait until mid-November and know I'm secure in my position I think it'd be OK to take on a little debt (famous last words, right?). Fortunately, I make enough to save that money in a few months as long as I stick to the frugal lifestyle I adopted in college and never really grew out of. By the new year I should be debt free again and able to start saving for my next vacation, build up a security savings for when the next something happens (because it always does), and start paying down my car faster.

And in the meantime, tell myself to just calm the fuck down. I got this. I really do.

Road Trip Part 1: The California Coast

ROAD TRIP!

The week after our one-year anniversary, the boyfriend and I took a 2,291.5 mile long road trip together.

We'd been planning a long road trip that would take us about two weeks, and then life kind of got in the way, forcing us to change our plans. Originally, our travels would have been in September and would have taken us all the way up the California coast, through Oregon and Washington, and we'd have reached Vancouver, Canada before making the trip back to San Diego. Then, I found out my cousin was getting married in Oregon in August so we moved the trip up a month. Then, we discovered a legal hiccup to the whole border-crossing plan, so we settled on Seattle to see various friends there. Then, I got laid off and the whole plan was up in the air for a couple weeks (We'd still go to my cousin's wedding, but it might involve a couple days straight of being in the car and very little actual vacation). Then, the boyfriend got a new job (yay!) and got week off for the trip. Then, I got a new job (double yay!) and got the same week off. While this meant we'd definitely make it to the wedding, it also meant we had just the week and nothing more. Unfortunately, the wedding was on a Saturday, leaving us just Sunday to be back in San Diego for work on Monday. By car. Holy hell.

Fortunately for the boyfriend, he was able to also get Monday off, but I was too chicken to ask (my hints went unnoticed or ignored), so no matter what we'd be doing Oregon to San Diego in a day. We had all sorts of intentions to have a very relaxing, leisurely drive up so that it actually felt like a vacation, and for the most part we pulled it off.

Shopping and dining in Santa Barbara

We left San Diego on Saturday and spent the weekend with my family for a  make-up birthday party for my sister and a celebratory we-got-jobs-toast for myself, the boyfriend and my mom (whose job announcement wouldn't come until later), and pay increase and new-step-in-life toasts for the sisters. We had a relaxing weekend, then early Monday morning we were on the road to Big Sur.

We saw a lot of this.

My little car was packed full of camping supplies, plus we had our nice wedding clothes to worry about and a dog with us... The drive to Big Sur took us around 7 hours on the 1, through crazy small towns you're likely to read about. I did the driving while the boyfriend had his camera out and ready. We felt like such city slickers going through those small towns, wondering aloud to each other how their lives were different from ours. We saw a surprising amount of local theatres, too... seemed no matter how small the town was they had space for a community theatre.

OMG SQUIRRELS!!! Eating from my hand!!!

Probably the most fun detour (oh hell, most fun part of the whole trip) was feeding the squirrels overlooking the coast somewhere along the highway. We pulled over to see elephant seals, and then again at some random look-out point to take in the scenery we'd been driving along for hours, and there was a whole colony of ground squirrels who were practically hand raised. I'd brought a box of Honey Chex with for morning snacking so I went back to the car to grab a handful. And we fed the squirrels! I was having the best time, seriously. They were so gentle about it: when I reached out with a single Chex in my fingers they'd hold on to my finger to steady themselves (or me?) before grabbing it with their teeth. I gave some tiny little broken pieces of Chex and they were so cautious and slow with it that I didn't worry about being bit. Not one was aggressive or pushy (though one fat one did shove the others out of the way, but he was still gentle with us), and all just wanted the sweets we had. I felt like if I held onto a Chex piece I could probably reach out and pet one, but didn't want to overstep my bounds. We stayed for several minutes taking turns feeding the squirrels and taking pictures and it was so much fun. I really didn't want to leave, but we had so much more waiting for us.

I'm the happiest camper right here.

I wrote about the Big Sur camping experience already, so I'll just skip that part. After we left Big Sur (which is gorgeous, by the way... I'm totally going back there to spend a few days, sans dog) we headed up the coast towards Monterey, another place I want to spend more time (AQUARIUM!). We took the 17 Mile Drive in Carmel and oh my goodness the fanciness. I had no idea what we were getting into, and the boyfriend just had heard it was a beautiful and famous coastal drive, but it turned out to be that and a mansions-on-a-golf-course show-off. House after house... seriously, how do these people get that kind of money? Beach access housing, golf course access housing, and beautiful forest housing, all in one. We had to pay $10 just to get on the roads. And at some club house they were getting ready for some luxury car show. Ridiculous. I'm pretty sure our mouths were open the entire time. We did get some nice photos though, including a sexy shot of my car on the beach.

Zoom zoom, baby.

After leaving Carmel we drove through Monterey. By then it was lunchtime so the boyfriend looked up a nearby fish place that had 4 stars. It. Was. Fantastic. He got halibut, I got albacore tuna, and we shared fried calamari. We both ordered off the specials menu, which was the first time in my entire life that I'd ordered something without first knowing the price. The boyfriend justified it with, "we're on vacation, we can splurge." And boy was it a splurge. We drank free water and the bill still came to over $70 before tip. Yikes! But it was very, very worth it. That was some of the best fish, if not the best fish, I've ever had. After we drove around Monterey, saw the outside of the aquarium and the little touristy shops. Then got back on the 1 to Santa Cruz.

Eat here. Monterey Fish House. Say hi to Jose.

We headed to the boardwalk in Santa Cruz to meet the boyfriend's friend and there were "no dogs" signs everywhere. Like, every where. The weird thing was there were people walking around with dogs all over the place! For such a laid back coastal community I certainly didn't expect it to be so dog-unfriendly. The boyfriend's friend met us and we walked to downtown Santa Cruz, which was pretty much exactly what I expected. Bums on the outskirts, but once you're in the center of downtown it's very small time and locally owned shops (the friend pointed out a Forever 21 that just opened, kind of surprising the area, since almost no other major chains exist there). She took us to an ice cream kiosk that sold hand made ice creams. I got mint chip and it was made with actual mint, and topped with very decadent hot fudge. We saw a man dressed as Mario juggling plungers, various singing groups, and a man playing a giant African instrument (one of those log-type things you blow in), which was awesome.

He got some dollars.

Much later than we intended, because the boyfriend had some catching up to do with his friend and because walking around downtown Santa Cruz was way fun, we got back on the road and headed to Oakland, which ended our excursion on the 1. I wrote about staying with his parents in Oakland, so I'll skip to the part where we did touristy stuff in San Francisco.

We woke up at 5 to make it to San Francisco by sunrise, something we didn't quite make it to but ended up not making any difference. True to the bay, there was fog everywhere. Thick fog you could touch that almost made driving difficult wrapped around everything. We wanted to drive up to a look out point next to the Golden Gate Bridge and photograph the sunrise, but the fog didn't let up even a little bit. We parked on Hawk's Hill and walked to the very top, where you'd see the top of the bridge. And saw a lot of gray. 

Super artsy photo of the Golden Gate Bridge at sunrise.

Giving up, we crossed the bridge into the city and had breakfast at some hotel restaurant (totally not knowing that Boudin's does breakfast now) in Fisherman's Wharf where I got a pretty decent bagel with cream cheese, smoked salmon and avocado (yum!). I hadn't been to the city in a couple of years, so we went to Pier 39. I got some socks for a gift, used a disgusting public toilet out of desperation, stepped in a puddle of sticky water (and furiously cleaned my flip flop, foot and jeans with an antibacterial wipe in the car), we saw Alcatraz and the sea lions, went into a few touristy shops, drove down Lombard Street and through Sausalito, and headed back up to Hawk's Hill for attempt #2 at getting that picture of the bridge poking through the fog (no such luck). We were back on the 101 before noon.

 Tourists.

Before we got to Eureka we did two fun things: we saw another couple driving in a silver Mazda 2 and honked and waved at them and drove my silver Mazda 2 through a tree.

It looks roomy but it did not feel roomy.

I did the drive through tree thing once before in my Accent, but it seriously does not get old. I mean, you're driving your car through a living, breathing tree. There was a hole in the tree not only big enough for my car to drive completely through it, but much larger cars to fit and drive through. It's so fun. There were some people behind us in an SUV sticking their hands through the sun roof touching the tree's insides. Pretty great to watch.

We're inside a tree.

Camping in Eureka went a lot more smoothly, especially considering we had no idea where we were going to stay. On the 101 our phones were working (hooray!) so the boyfriend found a campsite right off the freeway called KOA Kampgrounds. We had to drive behind an industrial warehouse so I was a little sketched out, but it was a lovely campground. Designed for families, they had an ice cream social, hay ride and community campfire planned. Cute! Our camp site was a small grassy patch with a picnic table, tiny fire pit and a spigot for washing. It was pretty empty and our neighbors were interesting: a few families in RVs, another couple, and a single man with just a motorcycle. Like the last time, we set up camp, ate the snack we'd brought, napped, and woke up just in time to start the fire. However, this pack of logs, while far cheaper than in Big Sur, did not come with a fire starter. So it took us a while. The boyfriend laid out a nice stack of sticks and dried leaves, and laid the logs on top. Because the fire pit was small and short he couldn't stack the logs tee-pee style so it was nearly impossible to light. That, and it was Eureka to it's not like the sticks were terribly dry. Still, we weren't expecting to have that much trouble lighting the fire, and it was way dark by the time we actually got it going with the help of a paper bag I had in the car to seal in the heat and act as a starter. But once we did, we opened the last of the beers from Big Sur and popped more soup on the grill.

Forgot to photograph the actual campsite...

We watched the hay ride go by our site and saw a couple of families gather around the communal campfire, roasting marshmallows. We stayed up talking pretty late, waiting for our fire to die out. We woke up in the morning (after a night of successfully not setting off my car alarm) to discover it had rained overnight. Hooray for our tent being rain resistant! We're quite pleased with our tent purchase: spacious enough for us, the dog and our stuff, warm enough for Eureka, and apparently good for rain. Once again, we packed up quickly and quietly and got back on the road.

Our last detour in California was to see elk.

For "brevity," (even though this was far longer than I anticipated), Road Trip Part 2: Oregon is here.

Living Comfortably

I bought a shiny because I could afford to.

For the first time in my life, most of my friends and I are living comfortably. We are no longer broke students, scraping together money for gas and beer, we are no longer in our entry level, grunt work positions where we worked full time and still had no cash, we are no longer buying frozen burritos simply because it's cheap food. We are doing OK.

Finances have become manageable as our positions have improved, and suddenly there's room in the budget for nicer dinners, nicer clothes, and nicer furnishings. Weekends don't revolve around what's cheap or free so much anymore, and we don't worry as much about spending a few dollars on an activity for entertainment. Vacations no longer have to be a visit to see the parents up the state simply because it means free food and a clothes shopping trip, if we're lucky. Vacations can mean actual plane tickets we bought ourselves to go to events we planned ourselves, even with our own friends. We can buy shiny things, things we've wanted for years but couldn't afford, things we needed but made do without, things that are the better versions of the things we currently have, and even things that are completely unnecessary.

Our homes have become a little less dorm-y and a little more comfortable. We've reduced the number of roommates we have or eliminated them completely. Some of my friends own homes and some are looking to own soon. We still keep our cars until they break but now we can afford to replace them, and with brand new vehicles that we love! We still look on craigslist.org for used furniture, but our maximum prices have gone up, our taste is a little more refined and we're slightly more choosy. In fact, instead of scouring the internet for used IKEA furniture, we go to IKEA to buy things new and buy far nicer things used online. When we see something we want we have the disposable cash (to a certain extent) to buy it, and don't have to save that long to buy the more expensive items. 

A $4 burrito at a taco shop is no longer dinner out, but a lunch at work, while a $12 plate at a sit-down restaurant can happen during the week. We still shop at Target, but can buy name brand. We have leftover cash to support our favorite charities. We might even donate to our Universities. If our jobs offer health care we can buy into it, and even go to the doctor or dentist without incredible fear of the costs. We can contribute to a retirement plan, and even start to believe that might one day be a reality.

All in all, we still live pretty cheaply. We don't have the major expenses like the older members of our generation, such as kids or expensive hobbies, and our extravagant excursions are still done with cost savings in mind. But we're now able to look ahead and see that being broke won't last forever, that if we just keep making smart decisions and keep rising up in our careers we'll get to the point where we can afford the more expensive parts of adult life. 

We're still in a recession or depression or recovering economy or whatever buzzword politicians are making up to make us feel better about the lack of jobs and social services, but us young adults are pulling through. Maybe it's because we happened to graduate college and earn a good year of work before the economy really tanked, making us a small group of successful young adults (far more so than the sorry kids who graduated after 2009) to be able to rise above, or maybe we've all just gotten lucky. Whatever the reason, we seem to be doing rather well for ourselves, and I think that even though we were all fine with our broke-student and post-college lives while we were living them, having a taste of disposable cash is going to be a great motivator to keep doing what we're doing. And we seem to be perfectly OK with that.

Working Woman

Oh god yes.

Aaaaaaand I got a job. Quickest bout of unemployment ever! Haven't even gotten an unemployment check yet, even, so that'll make taxes next year less confusing. 

I went through this blog from the last year or so and found six separate posts that are almost entirely about my job, why it sucked and how working full time and still not having money to do little things was wearing me out. I so wanted to find some awesome job, walk in to work and quit in a fantastic style, but being laid off because the owners couldn't work together anymore robbed me of that story. But on the other hand, I wouldn't have found the job I'm starting tomorrow had I not been looking in the middle of the day on a Tuesday. And for the first time in years, I'm taking a job not because it's there, not because I was offered the position, not because it's at least slightly better than the one before, and not because I have to have a job, any job, but because I wanted it when I saw it, because I think I fit in to the culture, because I have the same beliefs as the company and I believe we will support each other. For the first time since 2009 I'm excited to start a job that I think I will do great in, a job that suits me.

I spent the last three years in one job or another that paid the bills (sometimes barely... I still amaze myself with how little I actually need to survive on) and had its upside, but was mostly soul sucking. Working in the one department at the Wild Animal Park that didn't care about the animals and asked its employees to do whatever it took to make money was eye opening in a very bad way (especially for me), working for an English language school for international students that couldn't give a shit about the students' actual experience in San Diego and ruined many of their ideas of this country and this city was horrifying, and working for what I thought was a remodeling and home improvement company when all the owners cared about was signing a contract and cashing a check, flat out telling their employees they don't care about the customers and that we run a sales company, not a remodeling company and one that had favorite employees and employees that were constantly taken advantage of was shocking. And the job hunting process wasn't exactly a cake walk either, considering I'd been looking for months. When I was looking while still employed I wanted to find the right fit, and when I was looking while unemployed I was worried I'd have to once again take a job just because it was a job, don't much care what it is (watched a lot of Firefly last night).

I think, finally, I've found a company that not only does what it says it does, but cares about what it does (can you imagine?). Their mission statement includes the word passion in it. And from what the extensive interview process showed me, they really care who they hire because it's going to make a difference to the team, their creative process and their clients. I don't think a company would go through such an intense interview process if they didn't care so much. And I'm really excited if that's the case. I would love to be able to stay with a company for a few years and really grow with it and learn. I think I may have my chance to stop hopping around year after year.

Also finally, the boyfriend has a job he loves. After freelancing for... 4 years?... he landed a great job doing what he's been doing, only for an established photography company that gets its own clients and doesn't require him to do the whoring-himeself-out-for-work part. Which means all that stuff he doesn't like about the job he's doing for an hourly rate, and all the stuff he loves (photographing cars and food and animals) he can still do on his own time. And everything he does for the company gives him more skill. We've got the first step of the DINK system down now and one day we'll be those annoying pet parents real parents can't stand because we have disposable income for funzies (but we'll make it up by being a great aunt/uncle pair). The future is definitely looking good!

My First World Problem

I hate my full time job but can't afford to leave it.

I'm really sick of hating my job. I've hated my job for close to 3 years, and it's really starting to weigh down because I've had jobs I've really loved. I just haven't had one in years. And that gets old.

I honestly feel like I'm a hard working, dedicated and loyal employee. I want to see the company or group I'm with succeed and I want to help it do so. But I don't want to work for a company where the boss gets rich and the employees are overworked, mistreated and/or peons. I don't want to work for a company that is only concerned about the income and completely unconcerned about customer service or the quality of the product or service they provide. I don't want to have a pit in my stomach on Sunday nights or get a headache driving to work in the morning because I'm fed up, angry, and exhausted. I don't want to see my name being used on shit articles or associated with a company I would never in a million years recommend to anyone. 

I want to do something that matters.

I'm not looking to get rich (with a degree in Literature and Writing and an interest in non-profits I've long ago made peace with the fact that that just will not happen even if I want it to), but I don't want to be taken advantage of. I know I can survive on incredibly little money, so a high salary really isn't going to be a deal breaker or even much of a requirement. That being said, I do have a college degree and I'm not going to be happy with a $10 an hour gig no matter how great it is. 

All this being said, I can't help but feel like a whiney little girl. I have a full time job at a decent hourly rate (not as good as I'd like but a lot better than a year ago) and can afford my apartment, my car, my new computer and save for a vacation. My life doesn't suck; it's actually pretty great from 530pm to 9am, and I'm at least working with people I really like and am using the skills I learned getting my degree. So why all the complaining? Because it's not enough. I want it all, I really do, and I know I won't be happy until I have it all. And I'm so close. All I want is to work for a company I believe in, a company that deserves my loyalty and dedication, a company I can be proud to work for. And isn't that the American Dream? Am I really asking for too much? I was not led to believe that working a mediocre job was the plan or the goal or even how I would spend my twenties. And wanting every week day to pass by quickly so it can be the weekend again is wasting my summer, my year and eventually my life and that is most certainly not how I want to live.

I'm not asking to find my dream job, though that'd be nice. I'm just asking to not hate the thing I spend the vast majority of my waking life doing. 

How To Get A Man/Job

What my rejection emails really mean.

The title of an article could be "how to get a man" or "how to get a job" and the content, with a few altered keywords, would be essentially the same. I've never really been the person to take Cosmopolitan magazine seriously, or for that matter worry about finding/getting/keeping Mr Right, but I have read enough girl magazines to know that those who do want to get married and have kids and have the kind of life we all believe we deserve that getting older and not having that, or even being close to having that, can make even the most well rounded of girls depressed or, worse, desperate.

But in my ever present job search I'm starting to see a lot, and I mean a lot, of the same exact advice for job seekers as there is for women on the man hunt. Here is the advice I've come across and see if it sounds like "get a man" advice or "get a job" advice:

Be confident.

Take the initiative.

Put yourself out there.

Be eager, but not too eager.

Showcase your skills and talents.

Follow up x amount of days after you meet.

If it doesn't work out, move on to the next opportunity immediately.

Any of the above phrases could fit in a dating or job seeking article. And in fact, aren't first dates interviews? Aren't you trying to make yourself seem as attractive as possible while judging whether or not the person sitting across from you is really the great fit you thought he was based on his resume/online dating profile? Aren't there questions you can ask and questions you can't ask, stories you can and should tell and stories you most definitely should not tell? Isn't there a specific dress code that, if not followed, could disqualify you for the position? Isn't it possible (or even likely) to come off as over eager or desperate for the job or boyfriend, scaring away a potentially beautiful match? Holy crap I'm making myself anxious, and I have a boyfriend! I also have a job, but unlike the boyfriend I'm hoping to upgrade A-SAP. 

Thing is, though, that this whole notion has been around a while. There are hundreds of articles that tell job seekers and boyfriend seekers why one is like the other and how to use the tactics in one to get what you want in the other. But both situations are entirely uncomfortable because we're only in them when we clearly want something. So we listen to the advice of those who say they've been there and know what it's like and we play by "the rules" thinking it'll help. And maybe it does for some, but for the rest of us? I for one am starting to feel like a stereotypical 29 1/2 year-old woman worrying about her uterus drying up and being terrified I'm scaring off great candidates with my desperation. 

Only it's not men and potential fathers I'm scaring off, it's a great job. But in a way, finding the right job is like finding the right father-for-my-future-kids to me. Finding a job that gives me more of a purpose is essential because I'm not planning on my "purpose" being motherhood. While other women have their kids, their homes, their husbands and their domestic lives to fulfill them, and possibly are more willing to put up with shit jobs in order to help make their real lives happen, I don't feel like putting up with a shit job when that's my main purpose. In place of motherhood I want my job to be meaningful, to make me feel like I'm doing something that will matter to others. I have no motivation to take the high paying soul sucking job with benefits because I'm not worried about paying for anyone else to go to college. I can be picky and demanding because I have that luxury.

And dammit here I am in the same boat as millions of women my age who are worrying about their rapidly emptying ovaries saying "but I'm ready, it's time, where is he?" about my non-existent future employer.

Fuck, I just realized I'm Ted.

Where I'll Be In A Year

When in doubt, post cats.

A year ago I took the job I'm currently in because I just could not stand working part time for barely above minimum wage and scraping money together for rent every month. Admittedly I told myself I'd take it despite it's major problems and just keep looking, and I've been very lax on that over the year. I certainly did not, however, think that I'd make it to my one year anniversary with the company. 

The good news is over the last few months the company has changed drastically and is heading in a very positive direction. The bad news is it's a struggle every day to communicate to the bosses how to run a successful company in the eyes of the public and the employees- dollar signs can get loud. Not to mention not all employees are treated the same and some are downright taken advantage of. That in itself makes me want to escape.

So, if I'm still here a year later, where will I be next April? There are still things I want to have accomplished by then which I thought I'd have started on by now... at least a class under my belt, if not an application in the works, have a savings, have a plan, and hopefully have a job I really, truly love. The last two weeks have been exhausting for no apparent reason... it's a battle to run even though my race is in two weeks (soooo disappointing... I wish I wasn't running), Sunday nights suck because it means a whole new week ahead of e doing the same thing over again, and honestly feeling like I can't do my job with the tools I have makes the week drag. 

I've been thinking a lot lately, mostly in response to my jealousy over my boyfriend's awesome job and schedule that lets him nap in the afternoons, that freelancing and working part time somewhere fun would keep me happy and financially stable. Thanks to 2010 I know I can live on very little income and now that I don't have a debt and am in a position to save a few months of living expenses in very little time that prospect isn't so scary. And that lifestyle would work very well if I went back to school next year. 

We'll see what the next year brings...

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.

A Case Of The Mondays

Well, the week got off to a great start.

Got my first paycheck of the year and lost almost twice what I expected to taxes. I now pay more money in taxes per month than I do for my rent, including the increase that takes place in April. Which is fucking nuts. The US tax code is wildly confusing- I've never gotten a tax return more than $400, and that was once when the $300 make work pay thing was in effect a couple of years ago, and last year I owed taxes despite working and having taxes taken out. Paying a quarter of my income in taxes seems like so much to me. I made more money than this in the past and got to see more of my paycheck then... where does it all go and how to other people get hundreds on their returns?


Add to that people were absolute bitches on the phone at work, going so far as to yell at me and hang up when I mentioned our minimum (FYI: you're going to pay good money for a remodel, you can't go calling around and say you want the cheapest thing possible and get mad when businesses tell you they like making money) and my headache from Saturday night that never truly went away, I had to remind myself a few times that I got to wake up with wonderfully warm arms around me and that my car wasn't damaged from the car fire parked right behind it (terrifying few seconds while I checked it out, though).


One thing I took away from my parents' marriage was to worry about money, even if there's no need. I've never not been worried about money. My life is in perpetual save mode: for the next 3 months I'll be saving for taxes (I'll just barely make it), and until July I'll also be saving for car insurance, which I most certainly will not make at this rate. I had planned on joining a gym this week to train for the non refundable half marathon I already signed up for but now that's an unnecessary expense I might not be able to justify, especially when I should be spending that same money on new running shoes.


Makes me wonder how a person working full time for a decent wage and relatively low rent and living expenses can feel like she's just making it. I've been just making it since... well, I've always been that way, from college to now, and my current rent is only $100 more than it was when it was its lowest. The only addition is a car payment (which is low enough to be affordable) and full coverage insurance (which is a bitch); other than that my lifestyle hasn't changed too much. I still eat rice and potatoes a lot, going out to eat means parting with $5, and my wardrobe hasn't changed since right before I got laid off 3 years ago. Granted, there's no way I would have been able to afford a new car or this level of insurance at any point in the last 3 years, but I'm working so much more now. Doesn't that make a difference?


The thing that scares me is I'll talk to a professional about my tax situation and be told that's just the way it is, whether or not I'm able to understand it. And if that's just the way it is and a quarter of my paycheck goes to taxes, I still won't get a return. And if this is all the case, why am I not doing something fun for work? Why do I sit inside and look at a computer 2 feet from my face for 8+ hours a day, 5 days a week? I was making more money per hour when I was happiest, when I had more energy, when I didn't hate Mondays. I thought I was getting ahead but now it feels like the more I try to move the more I stay exactly where I always was.


And I couldn't see the rain today. Being stuck inside in a fluorescent room with a computer sucks on beautiful days, but it also sucks on the rainy ones. I love the rain and don't get to see it enough here... I'd like to at least watch it out the window. Hope this season is another wet one so that eventually it'll rain all weekend and I'll get to see it.

Two Thousand Eleven

After the disappointment that was 2010 I decided 2011 was going to be better. It so fucking was.

First, it was a year overwhelmingly full of love. I fell in love with San Diego all over again, discovered a love for running (which I'm working on rekindling as the year closes), and fell ridiculously crazy in love with a wonderful friend who I absolutely cannot wait to spend the next year with. I love my neighborhood, my brat of a cat, my apartment with the bars on the windows, and my new car. I loved seeing my friends move on in adulthood and succeed, paying off the debt I'd carried around since graduation (one of my favorite accomplishments), and seeing my sister get serious with someone who's great for her.

I started off the year by participating in a flash mob. I enjoyed it a ton, even though my roommate got really sick the days leading up to it and wasn't able to do it with me and now that flash mobs are so last year, I can at least say I participated in one. For silliness.

Easily my biggest accomplishment for 2011 was finishing 3 half marathons, 2 5Ks and a 4 mile race for a total of 49.3 racing miles and who knows how many training miles. I bought two new pairs of running shoes, several pairs of dry wicking socks, a running jacket, shorts and an iPod and send a few hundred dollars on entry fees and transportation. I have a small stack of bibs, 3 finisher medals (one of which glows in the dark!), a bunch of safety pins and more technical t-shirts than I know what to do with. It's a good feeling, and when I continue in 2012 I'm gonna try to beat that 2 hour mark.

Probably my second biggest accomplishment for 2011 was not moving. That's right, I had the same address for a full year, something which seriously doesn't happen very often for me. One of my goals for 2012 (a ridiculously easy goal, at that) is to make this address the one I live in the longest in San Diego. I have absolutely no intentions of moving, and unless my roommate decides to buy a place she doesn't either. North Park certainly feels a lot more like home now, and I've learned to appreciate what it offers.

I also was able to find a job in my area, one in which I'm using my degree (and, for the most part, need it) and making a higher rate than I ever have, which, now that there's a car payment, still seems like I'm just getting by. My commute is short, my hours are good, my coworkers are a lot of fun to be around and my boss can be pretty generous when he wants to be. It may not be my dream job, and one goal for 2012 will be to find my dream job, but it's good for right now, and it's helping me learn a lot that's going to help me in the future.

This year was not without it's down moments, however. In a coincidental yet poetic turn of events, the day before my birthday, which just so happened to be a day before the 1 year anniversary of my dad officially cutting me out of his life, I went to his house and gathered the last of my belongings there. It was civil and very quick and I'm glad to have gotten it over with, but it has made the last few months extra full of anger and resentment. Every time I see an older woman with red hair I feel incredible hatred towards these perfect strangers. It's becoming difficult to understand how such hatred can exist in the same place as such incredible love.

It was also not a good year for electronics. My camera battery is 99% dead, and the minute or so that it holds a charge really isn't long enough to take and download even one picture. Also unfortunately, I don't think they make those camera batteries anymore (at 4 years old it might as well be ancient) so it looks like I might have to buy a new one. Lucky for me, however, I have my own personal photographer (ok, he's not my own personal photographer) who is usually willing to take my pictures for me, so buying a camera isn't an immediate need. My computer also took a turn for the worse- a laptop without a working screen isn't good for much. The weird thing is after all the shit I put that machine through it still works perfectly and is way faster than the one I've been borrowing for the last few months, except for the screen. A new MacBook Pro is very, very high on my list of things to buy once I pay taxes. Finally, though this isn't really an electronic, my trusty Hyundai Accent died, forcing me to buy a new car.

Other events this year included two cousin's weddings, a trip to Disneyland, discovering goodies at my farmer's market, the rapture, the return of 90s TV shows, learning to drive stick shift, paragliding, getting my 6th piercing, not cutting my hair (it's super long!), a power outage, and getting more fish. It's been a very full year, and I'm proud to say I achieved the goals I set for myself at the beginning. I'm also happy to be looking forward to 2012, taking steps to accomplish my new goals, and sitting with my boyfriend and a bucket of popcorn as we watch people flip out over the Mayan calendar prediction.

Vacation

Just an infinity edge pool in a mansion. No big deal.

Some years ago I was friends with a Canadian-American who was dating a German girl. Much of their relationship was long distance (San Diego to Munich long distance, not one Southern Californian county to another bullshit long distance), but it was ridiculously obvious how much they cared for one another and she ended up moving back here and they got married and are presumably still ridiculously happy in love. However, while they were long distance they still were able to meet about once a month. For like a year. To put this in perspective, when The Ex and I were doing our shitty version of "long distance," which seems really dumb when you compare it to what our friends had, we didn't even see each other that often; we had the ability to talk on the phone whenever we wanted and could have spent every weekend together had we really wanted to. Obviously we didn't really want to, or we would have made it happen.

Even still, I found myself wondering how this German girl was able to visit the States about once a month. The Canadian-American took advantage of the multiple conferences held around the country (which were available to him as a grad student) and his German doctor girlfriend got permission to go to these same conferences. They were both paid to spend a night or two together in various cities. God damn was I jealous.

But one thing that really helped to make it that easy to spend so much time together is the way Germany views vacation time. How she explained it, something like every hour of OT she worked, which happened nearly every day, she accrued vacation time in lieu of extra pay. So a 10-hour day got her half a day of vacation time. And that's on top of the regular 4-6 weeks of mandatory vacation Germans just get, which is on top of national holidays. Fuck, America sucks sometimes.

So my Canadian-American friend and his German girlfriend got through their year or so of long distance dating with the help of Skype, international conferences and her nation's incredible vacation system. And The Ex and I didn't even talk on the phone every day.

America has always been stingy with vacation time. Work seems to be valued above everything else, and time spent away is almost grudgingly, like "oh, if I have to take this 3-day weekend I will, but I'm not happy about it". How did we get this way? Why is it so bad to be excited for the weekend, for a 3-day weekend, for a week off or for regularly scheduled days off? Why is it so looked down on us expressing our happiness at being away from work? This boggles my mind especially after realizing how few Americans actually love their work. We end up doing jobs that we're good at or jobs that happen to make us a lot of money, not necessarily jobs that make us happy or fulfill a part of our soul. But even if we all did love our jobs, enjoy waking up every morning to go to work, and truly enjoy our time spent at work, we still need time away. No matter how much those lucky few truly love their jobs (and even if we all truly loved our jobs), we need time to focus on ourselves, our families, our lives and interests outside of work. And it feels like we should all be pretending that our jobs are the only thing we need.

The upside is America is slowly realizing the need for a work-life balance. Some companies even use their flexible understanding as a way to grab valuable employees. Though this is great, and it may lead up to us actually playing on the same level as other countries, it feels really weird that some companies get to brag about offering vacation time, health benefits, and other outside-life-related perks. It feels especially weird to think that other countries seem to get so much more for their time and money: Americans say that other countries have higher taxes, but those same countries have free universal health care and some have free universities. Overtime worked translates into more time off, which makes more sense than extra money. Other countries seem to recognize the link between healthy lives and productive employees. When is it our turn?