Crossing My Fingers Daily

Now the waiting game begins.  As if I haven’t been waiting for months already.

The hardest part about all this waiting is that I know what everyone is thinking, How awesome that her boyfriend is supporting her while she binges on bad crime drama all day.  And yes, I admit, that’s what it seems like is happening.  But it isn’t true.  I was lucky enough to be able to take this time off.  Well, the first couple of months, now things are starting to get tight.

And so I did have to ask for some assistance from my boyfriend regarding rent.  But that hasn’t stopped me from contributing in other ways (um, groceries and gas).  And yet, I still feel slightly worthless.  Like I’m this damsel in distress and now I have to ask for help.  I hate that feeling.  But I also don’t want to deplete my savings while I search for a job.

I wish that all the people who’ve said something along the lines of Wish I had a Sugar Daddy could hear the whole story and, for the most part, I do correct them with somehting like Yeah, so do I. But I’m sure there’s a lot of talk among the people at Wes’ work or within his family.  Hell, I said the same things when women have told me stories of their loser boyfriends moving in with no job so I can’t really blame them.  But it would be nice to get some support on that front.

Another thing about staying at home that I didn’t realize: You’re supposed to clean.  All day everyday.  If you don’t have anything better (read: something that pays you) to do then you’re on cleaning duty.  And man, do I hate that.  Because, as I said before, I’m contributing still so it seems only fair that we both clean.  Yeah, I’ll do day-to-day things, but cleaning the bathroom?  I’m thinking we save that for the weekend.

So, um, yeah, still completely frustrated and worried that I won’t find a job before the holdiays.  So, what, three weeks until I need to find a job?  I’m hoping, but beyond that I don’t have much else.  Everything that seems to be a good lead always comes up short.  Last night I was plagued by dreams of my latest interviewer e-mailing me to let me know that they “decided to go in another direction.”  Not a great night of sleep.

Wes keeps telling me that none of the rejections have been personal; they’ve all had good reasons, I haven’t wanted to work there, etc., etc., etc.  But it’s hard not take them personal.  The companies don’t want me.   And after a while it doesn’t matter about the practical reasons for it not working out; all that matters is that they didn’t want me.  And feeling that way makes it hard to be confident in job interviews.

In the mean time, I’ll keep talking to the recuiter and hope that something comes up.

Just Be Yourself

Here I am, once again on the eve of an interview.  Nervous, as usual.  Because the thing is, I haven’t had a lot of success with interviews lately.  Oh, sure, there’s any number of reasons that they didn’t work out but the fact remains that they did not work out.  And that leaves my confidence in all future interviews very low.  

And confidence, unfortunately, is what one really does need an interview.  One needs to be able to wow prospective employers and make them believe that you are the best person for the job.  That in the history of the Universe there has never been a more perfect fit.  And right now I do not have that confidence.  I talk myself up and listen to all the good things certain family members, friends and boyfriends have to say about me but I it doesn’t fully sink in that, possibly, I am the right person for whatever job I’m applying to. 

I keep hearing Be yourself and it sort of makes me want to scream because that other jobs I’ve interviewed for didn’t so much think that me as myself was worth hiring (again, for various reasons that aren’t all Because I Wasn’t Right for the Job, although I’m sure a few were) so it’s hard to go into an interview and try to wow them with my charming personality.  

I think it comes off more as desperate, which I truly am right now.  I need a job.  Sure the first couple of months doing nothing were fun and relaxing but it’s going on four months and I’m starting to go a little crazy.  What good is all this free time without the money to do anything?    

I’m interviewing for the job that I really want (the one that I really was made for) on Wednesday and I’m very nervous that I’ll screw it up somehow.  Interviews, they are not my strong suit – even after so many.  Interviews now hold the same status as multiple-choice tests for me: agonizing.  I keep wondering, even as the words are leaving my mouth and regardless of how many times I practiced with Wes, if what I’m saying is what the interviewer wants to be hearing.  Is the right answer? I wonder.  It sounds right to me, but I’m never certain.  The bright side about Wednesday’s interview is that I made it through the phone interview so I at least have something going for me.  Though what it is I’m not sure of.  

I’m hoping that I’ll wake up tomorrow full of confidence and wow these people.  And then that attitude will carry over to Wednesday’s interview and by Monday I’ll be starting my new job.  But more likely what will happen is this: I’ll wake up nervous and scared and full of doubt.  I’ll stammer through my answers and the interviewer won’t think I’m high enough energy when the truth is that I am high energy.  I’ve got loads of energy.  I just need to figure out a way to keep the doubt from drowning that out.

Benefit of the Doubt

That’s what I’m asking for here.

Yes, I’ll admit, it’s almost eleven p.m. on a Saturday night, but you should really give me the benefit of the doubt.  As long as I can navigate the backspace (I promise I won’t use the spell check) I think you should read me (if you’ve gotten this far).

Okay, I admit, I’m writing this with one eye closed (hi mom and dad!) but, please, keep reading.

Wes and I started watching Mad Men and he can’t decide if it’s a good show because they men treat the women like shit or because it’s a genuinely good show.

I say it’s both.   The great thing about this show is that everything that “modern day” women experience has already happened.

Wes, of course (like most men), doesn’t want to believe that I made my success by my looks but the truth is that I did.  I made friends with all the departments and spent my time drunk more times than I would care to admit.

All for the sake of my career.

I flirted with anyone who came past my cube.  And guess what?  It helped.  I didn’t burn any bridges and I could ask just about anybody to write me a recommendation.   I knew my job and I did it well.

So, while we’re watching Mad Men of course most people are bound to talk about the horrible treatment of women.  But guess what, that still happens today.  I’m successful because I know who I’m going home with.  Sure I’ll flirt with the lawyer, but I certainly won’t go home with him.

So I wonder who’s better off: the woman who thinks she gets the Madison Avenue Man all to herself, or the one who knows she shares him?

 

P.S. I’m drunk.

Tonight, after years of missed opportunities, I’m finally seeing David Sedaris speak.  

The first time I had a really good reason for not seeing him: I was in Spain visiting a friend.  A friend of mine who did see him, however, took my copy of Me Talk Pretty One Day and had him sign it  - complete with my name lowercased, just the way I like it: “Dear Dani dani I’m so sorry I missed you”

The next couple of years I missed him were just due to my own laziness.  I wouldn’t know about his appearances until the last minute when all the tickets were sold out.  

When I made my final trek down to Orange County Wes had given me a signed first edition of Sedaris’ When You Are Engulfed in Flames  and promptly searched for his next visit to this area.  As luck would have it, it was in October and I snatched up two tickets.   

And then waited three long months for the day.  Which, happily, is tonight.  I’m finally getting to see David Sedaris speak.  And after reading Dooce’s post about her experience I’m super excited.  

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And now, something that I’ve been thinking about that has nothing to do with David Sedaris: another difference between San Francisco and Orange County.  What I loved about living in the city was all the food options.  Everything was within walking distance.  Except for fast food.  It was great.  Sure, every once in a while I would be dying for a cheeseburger and french fries from Burger King or McDonald’s, but the effort to get them would not be worth it.  Much closer and, in the end, more delicious was the cafe on the corner.

Here, though, fast food “restaurants” are on practically every block.  So now when I crave those awful foods I have to be a bit stronger about not getting in the car and driving to get them.  

But the real problem is that I can’t replace them with anything else.  McDonald’s, Burger King, Wendy’s and Taco Bell (among so many others) are convenient: I can’t drive two blocks without finding one.  And from what I’ve experienced in the past three months doesn’t not make me excited about the dining out prospects.  Every place we’ve been to has been, at best, so-so, at worst, awful.  

Hopefully we can find a good restaurant tonight to start our Sedaris experience right.

It’s much harder finding good restaurants when they’re not on every corner.  And also when everything is housed in strip malls, which I do not equate with good dining.  How do you differentiate between a good strip mall and a bad strip mall?  I guess just by trial and error.

Run Like A Girl

That’s right: I participated in and successfully completed the Nike Women’s Half Marathon.

And all I got was a fancy Tiffany’s necklace (What is it about that trademark blue box and white ribbon that drives the ladies wild?) and t-shirt.  

Also the satisfaction of knowing that I successfully completed a half marathon.  Without training.  In two hours and thirty-one minutes.  Yes, I would say that I’m pleased with myself.  Excited, too.

My knees, however, are not so excited with what I decided to do.  In fact, I think they’re cursing me for my decision.  But at least it’s out of the way – most likely for quite a while.  Unless I decide that a full marathon is something I need to do.  Which I doubt I will (like I said, my knees hate me right now and I’m not sure a another 13.1 miles would endear them to me.).

The course was beautiful: starting at Union Square, we meandered through the Financial District and hit Embarcadero near the Ferry Building and ran through Fort Mason and on to the Presidio (oh, the hills of the Presidio, my knees hate you most of all) on through neighborhoods and peaking with a lovely view of Ocean Beach.  From there it was a mere three miles until the finish line.  Of course, they mess with your mind by making you do this loop thing where you can see the Finish line from just before (after?  I can’t remember) mile 11 but then forcing you to run those extra 2.1 miles to finish.  And those poor marathoners, they could actually see the finish line from mile 13 and had to keep going another 13 miles to complete the race!

Several times during the race I actually got a little teary-eyed.  A lot of women were running in honor of friends and family members who have fought cancer and seeing them all out there, running for a cause that was close to them did get to be a little emotional.  And all the volunteers and cheerers were great.  They really did give me an extra little kick when I needed it.  Sure they came to cheer for a specific person/team, but they were great and cheered for us all.  Little kids were in homemade shirt cheering their moms on and one woman was running with a stroller.  Impressive, to say the least.  There was a group of volunteers on our last down hill who had a choreographed cheer for the runners.  It was so nice and brought a smile to my face when my knees really started to hurt and I just wanted it to be all over.  

So, while I would really have loved to have a whole crew of people (big thanks to Ashley and Dave for seeing me finish – it really helped!) cheering me on at various points in the race (I do realize that having a group of people from different states and areas cheer for me was neither possible or practical), I still had people there cheering me along.

All in all, a great experience and I’m glad I did it.  

So yes, I spent the weekend in San Francisco – a place I’ve been pining after for months (3 of them, to be exact).  And guess what?  It’s everything I remembered and more.  The weather is fickle (hot one minute, freezing the next), everything is within walking distance or a short bus ride and the parking is awful, the shopping is great but the crowds are awful, the scenery is beautiful but the smell can be pretty awful.   

It was great to see all of my friends and visit work (where I found the encouragement I needed to boost my confidence in the job hunt.  It was nice to hear that my work was valued and it will go a long way in helping me find a job (that’s the hope, anyway).  

But the best part of this weekend is realizing that San Francisco isn’t my home anymore.  Being in San Francisco without Wes just reminded me of those nine months of long-distance and how much they sucked.  It also made me realize that my home is where Wes is, even tif that is Southern California.

(Um, as long as it’s not permanent.  Oh, and as long as the next place our home is is somewhere in the Northwest.  But other than that, wherever he is).

This weekend is the race that I’ve supposedly been preparing for for, oh, about 7 months.  In truth, though, I haven’t been preparing all that well at all.  I had good intentions, of course, but my follow through was sadly lacking.  I’d like to blame it on the funk that I’ve been in since moving to Orange County, but that’s only part of it.  The other parts are, in no particular order: all those damn books I’m supposed to be reading;  preparation for dinner; crime drama marathons on tv; and just plain laziness.

I suppose I’ll be paying for all of those things come Sunday.  Oh, and probably Monday when I’m crazy sore and don’t want to get out of bed.  Wes tells me that an ice bath is the best thing that I can do but we both know that will probably not happen.  So instead I’ve been told to stock up on Gatorade, Pedialite and bananas to help combat that the aching soreness that 13.1 miles is sure to bring.

I’m super excited to see all the friends I said goodbye to three months ago.  Tonight I’m meeting up with Ashley and Dave to celebrate Dave’s brthday (happy birthday, Dave!) and some of their friends (one of whom, Danny, is supposed to be hilarious and make vaginas out of his tongue.  Or something like that.  I can’t wait.).  Mostly it will just be hanging out and catching up, with a little Blue Barn and wine mixed in for good measure (but not too much – I need to be prepared-ish for Sunday).

Sunday afternoon I head down to visit a friend from work and spend the evening with her and her husband at a BBQ, where I’m told that I can do some networking that will, hopefully, result in good connections down here to (finally!) find me a job.  Then, on Monday, I’ll go to my old work and see all my old work friends.  and enjoy a special Monday waffle day.

Monday I also have a phone interview for a job down here.  One that seems to be written with me in mind, for a company where I have a friend who helped make this all possible.  Needless to say, I’m nervous.  For several reasons, but I think the big one is that someone else knows about this one.  So, if it doesn’t work out, I’ve got to face someone besides myself and Wes (which is hard enough).  It’s like dating, this interviewing thing: you had a great time and think you’ve made a connection and the other person is just sort of blah about it.  And you have to keep doing this over and over and over again until you find that person (in this case, company) that just fits.

I remember my dating years; they sucked.  But I guess it should give me some encouragement that at the end of all that bad dating there was a great guy.

My New Favorite Web Site

ecards!

I got this link from a friend and the cards are hilarious.  So much more inventive than the cards from evite.  

Need to break up with your boyfriend or girlfriend but are too much of a pussy to do it face to face?  This is for you.  Too afraid to approach that cute brunette in accounting, check this out.

What I’d like to do is make up an anonymous e-mail account and just start sending these to people.  Not often enough for them to think it’s spam or realize that someone is playing a joke, but enough that the person actually thinks s/he has a secret admirer.  Is that wrong?

Read This

It will make you laugh.  And possibly cry.  Who doesn’t want to be loved like this?  

Thanks to my brother for scouring Craigslist for things like this.

A Few Good Things….

About Southern California:

We went hiking at Alta Laguna this morning/afternoon.  For two and a half hours.

Missing the Seasons

Last night my brother sent me this text message:

Followed by this voice mail: You have never been more jealous of me in your life.  And yes, I am a bit jealous about this. 

When people find out that I’m originally from Idaho the question I get asked most frequently is, “How do you like it down here?”  And my stock answer is, “I miss the weather.”

I really really do.

Today it was about 60-degrees when I woke up and I was happy about it.  I still don’t need a jacket, but the crispness in the air is what I’ve been looking for since I moved here.  I’m not sure how long it will last, but for now I’m going to snuggle up on the couch with a good book and my favorite hoody.