Why The West Has Won

There was a year in my life when I had money to almost-burn. My rent was less than a quarter of my take-home pay. I had thousands of dollars in the bank (to pay taxes with, and also to you know, save); I took spontaneous trips, bought multiple plane tickets for multiple people, and drank wine that cost more than $20 a bottle on the regular. It was a fine year.

 But bear with me, for this is a story about being miserably poor and finding compassion.

 I’ve never been poor per se, as in I’ve never systemically suffered from poverty. But I have been broker than a joker. When I was living in Seattle at the Space Capsule, I was making $9 an hour, at 37.5 hours per week. That was the poorest time in my life. Rent took almost half my paycheck, utilities and attempting to repay debts took more, and I regularly nabbed soup or pickles or whatever from my roommate (thanks and apologies, Elly) after he opened his red pepper bisques. Having never been so poor, I was too ashamed to ask if he minded sharing his groceries - he never inquired, but I’m sure he noticed how fast the soup went. He started buying extras during his weekly shops.

 I almost never knew what I was going to be eating for dinner - it was probably going to be pasta with sauce, and it was definitely not going to have much green in it. I subsisted mostly on bruised apples or strawberries, and candy from the chocolatier I worked at. I got a nasty UTI that turned into a kidney infection - I had no insurance and no money for OTC drugs anyway. I bought garlic cloves and ginger root from the Asian grocery across the street, made and drank medicinal tea for about five days. I missed four days of work. I tried to go back on days five and six, but I was too weak to do anything but work the register, and I had no money for food, so I was back to eating candy. The last thing you should do when you are recovering from a kidney infection is eat candy. My body has never fully recovered - I get UTIs at the drop of a hat, and I'm waiting for my kidneys to give up the ghost.

 Could I have called my parents for money for antibiotics? Sure, but I was already calling them once a month to tide me over until payday. I was ashamed of myself, having come out west so young, and then failing so miserably in my adolescent independence. I had already lost all financial aid by almost failing out of college my first two semesters (that’s another story!), so I just… didn’t want to disappoint them further. I wanted to fight for myself. I wanted to be an American bootstrapper, rise up out of poverty like some miracle financial phoenix. 

 It’s only looking back as an adult, after interacting with friends of friends who still buy into boots that I realize I had no bootstraps. Bootstraps are a myth. It is true that you can rise out of poverty with hard work and perseverance, but the equation to do so has a dozen factors: your race, parent’s class, education level, among many other things. A lot of those factors are affected by the other factors - If you grew up in poverty, you are more likely to have been educated in poverty-stricken school district, and therefore less likely to have gone to college. (More on that here: https://abagond.wordpress.com/2012/01/12/the-bootstrap-myth/)

 Anyway, moving away from bootstraps and systemic oppression of the poor, I wanted to tell you a story about choice, compassion, and needs.

 I had about $3.60 in my bank account, and $2.50 in my pocket. I wouldn’t get paid for a week. Johannes (my rabbit) was out of food. A small bag of his regular food at Petco was $2.99+tax. the cheapest in town. The nearest Petco was in the U-District, about six miles away from my apartment in the International District. Bus fare was $1.25… you see where this is going. I had just enough to get there, buy rabbit food, and come home. I figured I’d subsist off of apples and half-rotten strawberries during the day at work, and cigarettes I bummed from Keevey to stave off the hunger pangs.

 Upon arrival, I found there were out of the size of bag I had been planning to buy. The next size up was about $5.00, I think, and I had luck before running my debit card through as credit and begging my credit union to withdraw their overdraft fee (which they always did, because credit unions are the shit). The checkout guy was young, maybe 25, and he messed something up on the register, or couldn’t cancel out of the debit screen once he’d hit it. I was stuck, and my account was effectively frozen.I tried to explain, he asked if I had any cash… I told him, “Only my bus fare to get home. I live in the ID.” He wouldn’t have been able to make such a steep discount on his register anyway. I tried not to cry as I turned away from him and started towards the door. He put his hand on my shoulder to stop me,

 “Wait, don’t go anywhere.”

 He picked up the 10 pound bag of food I was trying to buy, and went to the back room. I stood, fretting, wondering if he was going to call the manager, if they were going to yell at me or ask me if I had been stealing. He emerged, an aeon later, with an clear garbage bag full of rabbit food.

 “This one broke in the back, so we can’t use it. We’re going to throw it out, but I think you should take it. It didn’t touch the floor or anything.” He handed me the unwieldy bag, more rabbit food than I had ever bought at one time, more food than I had ever bought for myself at a time (college and post-college = eating piecemeal, literally.) “Just don’t tell anyone.”

 I’d been keeping rabbits as pets for ten years at that point. You can’t just “break” a feed bag. They’re pretty sturdy and it takes scissors to open them on the regular.

 This young man stole for me, from his own place of work, and risked potentially everything he had for no discernable reason - maybe for pity, or because he thought I was pretty and sad, but the reason behind it doesn’t matter because Johannes ate that night and many nights after.

 And I started keeping all the bruised apples we couldn’t use in a box for the homeless guy who walked by our shop every other night.

 Always pay it forward. The more people you pay it forward to, the more people they will, and the faster the world becomes a kinder place.

Happy New Year, friends. I love you all.

We Accept The Love We Think We Deserve

Though this was originally written as my annual Facebook note reflecting on the year, I thought this would be a good place to share it too.

What a year.

My mind struggles to grasp the year in its entirety: there has been so much change and growth that it's hard for me to step back and really see what this year has brought.

Let's think about where I was at the end of 2012: in Amsterdam, reaching for my independent self as I prepared to transition yet again, from Italy to London, one au pair job to another. In the months leading up to that trip, I had been dumped, discovered the power of Don Miguel Ruiz and, through his words, found my own power and sense of self, which I had freely given to those I had loved for too many years.

I made commitments to myself for 2013, the content of which were not as important, I found, as the act of committing to myself instead of others. I found comfort and strength in my promises, not because I kept them in the ways I'd initially set out to, but because of their greater underlying principle: that 2013 was going to be the year I put myself first, and stopped diminishing who I was through compromises made in, and for, relationships that did not serve me in the same ways I was willing to serve them.

No more would I, Jade Forester, serial monogamist and Queen of the Rebound, get myself into a codependent, dysfunctional relationship. No more would I choose saving others above saving myself.

2013 has been the year I learned how to save me - from myself, mostly, but also from those who would seek to de-rail the progress I'd made at the end of 2012. By the end of last year, I'd thought the thoughts and was talking the talk. In 2013 I walked the walk.

As with every path I've started down in my life, it didn't go quite according to plan - I didn't completely swear off dating, or sex, and whether that was the right choice is of course moot at this point. The goal was the find out who I am when I'm not being defined by my relationships with men. Not only to find out who I am, but to figure out if I even liked that person - and if not, take positive steps towards becoming the woman I want to be, a woman I can respect and love more than I loved being in love or planning my future. I had to start living in the present and be happy doing so.

Though I wouldn't be so arrogant as to sit back at this point and say "I'm done," as if a person's growth is something that is ever complete, I can say that I achieved my goals for 2013. I found out who I am when I'm not busy being a girlfriend. I found out that I'm pretty awesome on my own, and that I have the most amazing family around me - and I mean not only those that I'm related to, but those who came into my life along the way, and stayed. I found out that I don't need to go looking for love; I am surrounded by so much I can hardly breathe, I am so overwhelmed with gratitude at the blessings I have been given.

I realized I didn't know myself well enough in the past to have patience with those who fell short of my high expectations, or the clarity to realize the depth and breadth of the ways I contributed to others' unhappiness. I am working towards being more self-aware and to change old habits and assumptions, and am quietly optimistic about the future.

I have never been so humbled by any year as I have this one, though I'm sure many of my closest can think of others that my have been more outwardly momentous. But the journey from child to adult isn't always greatest in the milestone moments: the distance between student and graduate, or Maine and the UK, was not so great as the miles I travelled within myself this year, as I searched to discover and redefine who I am and what I want.

I am exhausted, yes, but exhilarated. I have never felt so ready to take on whatever life throws at me. Never have I had so much to be thankful for, or as many reasons to smile throughout my day. Never have I felt so fully my capacity for good, or my strength for change, or my ability to achieve my goals.

I don't have any resolutions as I move into 2014 beyond this: keep it up, Jade. Remind yourself of how far you've come, and what you are capable of when you open your eyes, your mind, your heart, to what you need.

Show yourself every day that are worthy of love - and that means loving yourself. Remember Stephen Chbosky's words from The Perks of Being a Wallflower: 'We accept the love we think we deserve.'

Show those who support you how much they mean to you whenever you have the opportunity to do so. Remember how much they've done for you, and don't forget it or take them for granted. Remember how it felt when you withdrew yourself from them, and don't let it happen again!

Open yourself up to falling in love again, even if it doesn't look or feel like it used to. If you don't want the next relationship to end like all the others, you probably don't want it starting like all the others. Take your time. Breathe. Hold on to yourself without holding yourself back.

Remember the four agreements:

1. Be impeccable with your word
2. Don't take anything personally
3. Don't make assumptions
4. Always do your best

Miss Communication

This is the 2-3am angry post.

I'd like to know what is so hard about communicating.  Please, do tell.

See, I seem to have this problem.  I speak my mind and tell people when I want or need something.  When I invite an acquaintance out, I say " I would like to take you to this place at this time on such and such day".

Yet, I never seem to have the same language used with me.  A man approaches me to ask for a date.  He asks where I would like to go, and makes absolutely no mention of date or time.  I have to think up some place that he might like.  Then go through and suggest days that might work.  Just who is doing the asking?

I'm tired of this.  Every time I think someone is asking me on a date, I end up doing all the work.  Do your part.  You want to spend time with me, spend ten seconds coming up with an idea about it.  You're laziness ensures that I will not be spending time on you.

Addendum - I have been informed that what I am describing is "confidence".  My reply was that, from anecdotal experience, there are no confident men.  There are inept men and there are creepers on the train who *really* want to get you a coffee.

Non Sequitur

About two months ago I was very ill and sitting at home in my dogs-toasting-marshmallows flannel pj's and reading articles/watching youtube as a break from all of the naps.  As I sat there, feeling a bit blobbish wrapped in a blanket, and sipping tea for my sinus infection, I came across the "Blurred Lines" video and controversy.  As I watched the video, an inescapable descriptor for the women in the video dawned on me.

"Sex Kitten".

I thought for a minute about all the connotations of this as the artist sang and the women bounced.  I looked down at my dogs-toasting-marshmallows flannel pajamas,

"Fuck that.  I am NOT a sex kitten,"  Said I to my computer. "I am a SEX LION".
I sneezecoughed into a tissue.
"HEAR ME ROAR".

Return of the Blog Part I

I've been out of touch for a few months.  Not just with this blog, but life in general.  I have a habit of isolating myself when things get to be too much.  It might be bad if I were just hiding under a rock.  Mostly I use it to slow things down.  I cut myself off from a lot of good stressors so that I have enough energy to separate and deal with the bad ones.  After that, I have some decompression time.  I'll have itemized ad dealt with most of the big things, and just need time to find focus again.  But the latest cycle is over and last week I finally started reaching out again.

You'll have noticed the "Part I"  in the title.  I though that since this is a blog about life and such, I'd separate some items out and explain them to you you a bit.

Part I - Love and Relationships
Part II - Health and Family
Part III - Career
Part IV - Goals and Career
Part V - A new Year

Once I've written the others, I'll try to remember to add links to the above.

Love and Relationships:

I broke up with Hunter almost two weeks ago.  At seven months, he was my second longest relationship.
After all the fighting we've done over the last few months, we managed to end things amicably.  I think we were both tired.  I baked vegan brownies to bribe him to stay my friend.  So far, that seems to be going ok.

My big problem was that it got to be exhausting to spend time with him.  Every time I'd talk to him, it was such an emotional toll, I'd lose the rest of the days productivity.  It would probably not have been that bad if I had a job to provide more structure to the rest of my life.  But I don't, so I work with what I've got.  In any case, I need to not feel like I'm the only one making effort for a relationship, and that was what things got down to.

I made a lot of exceptions in my priorities for Hunter.  Right from the beginning.  Things like time with my friends, or how long to wait to get physical, keeping it as an equal  partnership, and setting boundaries.  These are my rules and I set them for a reason.
The lesson I learned is that no matter how attractive someone is, or how much I love them or want things to work out - if I keep breaking my own rules, I won't be happy.

This relationship did give me more opportunity to explore than any previous relationship, and for that, I'm happy.  I don't think I'm going to keep up with most of that, but it is nice to feel like there are more options.

The other issue is that this is the first time I've had a relationship that could effect something else.  I volunteer with him for theater tech with a small company.  He's the tech director and I've been sort of main on lights.  But while we're still friends, it looks like that could continue to work out.  I'd really like it to.

Now I'm taking some time to reconnect with all of the friendships that I allowed to slip with the relationship drama.

Have a Heart: My Relationship Is Not a Convent

I was really sad today. One of those “I could walk in front of a train” days - they start happening in November and follow until mid-Spring. These days often turn into me doing not-so-surreptitious research on joining a convent (usually Catholic, I’m traditional if nothing else. Though I’m not at all Catholic.)

I’ve fantasized about being a nun almost my whole life, and I absolutely blame Rodgers and Hammerstein, and bloody Maria von Trapp.

One of the most poignant moments for me as of late was about Mother Superior and How Do You Solve A Problem Like Maria? She’s a devil - she’s an angel - she’s a giiiiirl! And with that the nuns promptly decide that perhaps Maria does not belong in the convent and perhaps Mother Superior should hire her out to be a governess to a cranky widower. “You’re not really cut out to be a nun, Maria,” they say, “Being a child in a tree and looking down at our quiet, holy lives does not prepare you to make these vows.”

The more important part of the story comes later when Maria gets frustrated and comes back to the convent, citing that it was too hard and she couldn’t get through to the children. Mother Superior tells her to “climb every mountain” in one of my favorite solo songs. At its essence, the song (and Mother Superior’s role) is to encourage Maria to stop hiding from her problems. A convent is not built to keep your secrets, or for you to ignore your unprofessed love of the Captain, or to… hide. (We know because Rolf found them in the end anyway. I know, it’s a true story, but hush. I’m making metaphors out of molehills.)

Relationships, like convents, are not good places to pretend you don’t have problems. A habit cannot save you from your reckless dreams, and a relationship can’t save you from the problems you’ve been trying to avoid your whole life.

Maria has wild abandon. She’s not suited for a quiet life of being a nun. I have issues that look like whatever the opposite of wild abandon is. I’m not suited to be a wife right now.

So, unable to afford the therapist I want to see, I’m borrowing a leaf out of my own crazy book and turning (after 15 years of holy abandon, practicing almost entirely by myself) to organized(ish) religion. Because I’m craving so much solitude and contemplation, I started going to the weekly dharma gathering at the NYC Shambhala Center. I don’t know a lot about Buddhism yet (beyond what I can glean from the Beats), but I am pretty great at sitting still for long stretches at a time and focusing on my breath.

Today we did a love-kindness focused seven-part guided meditation and I was really bad at it. I had trouble focusing on our meditation phrase, “May you find happiness.” We started with a benefactor, then ourselves, then a neutral person, then someone who annoys us, then all the people in the room, and then the whole universe. Not only did I have trouble picking a benefactor (because there were too many!), but I had trouble picking a person I was neutral towards, and an even harder time picking someone who annoys me. People who just “rub me the wrong way”... I don’t have very many of those.

I could’ve used more love-kindness focus - I ended up mostly annoyed with inability to focus.

Anyway, once I abandoned the phrase and focused on drawing the warmth from my heart and center, I was able to radiate compassion for the universe like the sun. I can’t imagine what I must have looked like, but I felt like a sunflower. My face raised towards the ceiling, shoulders relaxed, smiling like an idiot. Wrapping the world in love and kindness like a babe.

In our brief one-on-ones, I spoke with a young woman who had the opposite problem - she couldn’t focus on extending to the universe, but individuals didn’t give her too much trouble besides the crying. She felt so deeply towards her friends and benefactors, loved them so much that she cried. I cry a lot too, but usually only when people I love leave me, or I’m just too sad to find another expression.

I liked her - she reminded me of Maria.

Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.

As I'm writing this, I'm sitting on my couch. My leg muscles actually ache because I'm clenching them so tight. I decided to do this blog post in hopes that it would distract me. And it didn't involve moving. 





There's a mouse in my house.

So I know we all have irrational fears. It's a thing. 

But oh my God a mouse. 

I'm alone, the roomie's out. I called the parents and was advised to put out mousetraps. 

I don't ever, ever, ever anticipate seeing a mouse, so why would I have mousetraps?!?!?!?!?! Sorry, that's the terror talking. 

A short time ago (okay, fine, I haven't moved an inch in half an hour), I saw it. Out of the corner of my eye. Running. Across. My. Floor. From the living room. Into the kitchen.

Where did it come from? Where did it go? (PEOPLE - this is no time for "Cotton Eyed Joe" jokes!) 

It went somewhere. Perhaps under the fridge. Doesn't it know there's no food in there? If it wants sprite or Chobani, fine, otherwise it's going to be mad. Then who knows what will happen. Gah! 

I am 27 years old but I've called my mommy twice already. Apparently one cannot provide a mousetrap over the phone. I now know this. 

I haven't eaten dinner. I'm hungry. I really have to pee. But guess what - there's no way in all of Hades that I'm moving off of this futon of safety. 

Sigh.... 

This is NOT a drill, people! Assume the crouch position! 

All My Friends Are Getting Married and I Love It (And Them!)

I’ve spent about $2000 in the last three years on weddings. I’ve been a bridesmaid three times, and there’s a fourth coming up in December. I’m not even a bridesmaid in that one — they just want me to run the show.

My engaged friends really dig my organizational skills. They like how I make schedules, they love how I ask questions, boss people around, and generally get shit done so they don’t have to worry about it. Where’s your phone? Erin’s had it since 8 o’clock this morning so you could have a champagne breakfast, not deal with your almost in-laws. The florist is supposed to be here at 2:00? I’m on the phone at 2:02 and expect updates every 90 seconds until she’s on the floor. Where’s the man party? Room 228 — you hold her train, you carry these flowers, I’ll get the boys. I liaise. I delegate.

I have a finger in every part of the wedding day pie and it is really sexy. You know why?

I’m smiling. I love weddings.I love being in the thick of making the day go well. It is the most important thing to me, the most joyous part of the occasion. The timing of the day is intimate in itself, and I make things run smoothly. It’s what I am best at, and that my friends see it, appreciate it, and rely on it makes me feel loved and appreciated.

Of course, being the coordinating bridesmaid means I miss out on a lot of the “Ooh!” moments. I’m missing from most of the reception pictures. I did not lace up my dear friend’s wedding dress, nor help another with her petticoat, or buckle the other one’s shoes. But the moments I do get are really precious: being the first one up and ready to dress meant I painted my best friend’s toenails while the stylist started her hair. I found a quick fix for a too-dark eye. I made a bouquet and boutonniere for a courthouse ceremony.

I’m not asked to be a bridesmaid because I’m the fun one, the pretty one, or the friend since childhood. I am both fun and pretty, but I’m also introverted and can be quite-to-the-point. It makes socialization a little difficult, and I’ve been told (by people who don’t know me very well) that I lack tact. I’m working on it.

Ideally, if I ever left publishing, I’d like to do this for a living — a day-of event coordinator extraordinaire. But how does one become a professional bridesmaid? Is that a thing?

I’d like to make it a thing.

Terrifying Halloween Costumes

Halloween is next week and I am not at all prepared for it.  In general the months seem to slip away without me noticing until I go into CVS and see the upcoming holiday's paraphernalia staring me in the face.  I'm always that person exclaiming over how I can't believe it is already (insert month and holiday here).  And of course I have been shocked all week because I can't believe next week is Halloween!  And that means Thanksgiving and Christmas are right around the corner and I do not feel ready for any of it!

Luckily CVS and every other store starts putting up Christmas stuff so early (as in they already have Christmas everything on sale now, in October) that by the time I get to December 25th I am as ready as I am ever going to be for my favorite holiday.  But even though the stores warned me and I have pulled out my many scarves and my beautiful boots, even though I am now wearing jeans more than dresses and have even spotted colorful trees amongst the concrete jungle I live in I am still not ready for Halloween yet.

I guess it comes down to the fact that I'm not really as crazy about Halloween as I am other holidays.  First off Halloween is a holiday devoted to everything ugly and scary and I just prefer pink ribbons and pretty things and not having nightmares when I am trying to sleep.  Secondly it is a holiday that is based on originality, not traditions and so I cannot just sit back and do the same thing I did last year, I must come up with something new and especially exciting to do every year.  And finally dressing up for Halloween is expensive.  No matter how hard I try to thrift shop and pull from my own wardrobe a clever costume I always wind up spending more money than I would like on accessories and the like for something that I only wear once.  I guess I would just rather spend that money on a cute dress that I will love and can wear over and over again for years to come.

My boyfriend and I finally decided on a Halloween party we wanted to go to that is happening this coming weekend and I thought it might be fun to go costume shopping together.  I thought it would be a nice, chill activity for us to do together, that was until I walked into the Halloween store.  Speaking of the Halloween store, what an interesting business!  Once a year these stores pop up everywhere and they charge a ridiculous amount of money for plastic dresses and props and then as soon as November rolls around they disappear until next year.  Anyway, we walked into the store and I was hoping to be inspired, to see something really cool that I would want to wear or at least see something that I could recreate at home or that I might like to imitate.  Instead of being inspired I got really depressed.  As far as I could tell I could be pretty much anything I wanted as long as it was extremely sexy and the costume was super revealing.

 Women can have any career they want as long as they dress sexy.

And this discovery lead me into super feminist mode where I got very upset and had to rant to my very patient boyfriend about how awful it was that my only choice was to dress up as some guy's fantasy.  I don't mind being sexy or dressing in a provocative way; I have worn my fair share of short skirts and have artfully exposed my cleavage, but I decide when I want to dress like that and to what extent.  I feel a silly amount of pressure about this holiday and dressing up as it is, I don't need additional pressure to dress up as something that is going to make me uncomfortable.  And what was worse was that all of the men's costumes looked pretty cool.  All of the men's costumes were of super heros and warriors and badass bad guys.  And all of their costumes looked appropriate for a cool crisp end of October day.  So for all of my boyfriend's suggestions I offered none and shot done each and everyone of his.

I love being a woman and most of the time I feel really great about being an independent woman who is powerful and totally in control of her life.  But sometimes being a woman sucks.  And sometimes all it takes is a Halloween store to remind me of how unequal life still is just because I am a woman.  So we left the store empty handed and while we are still planning on going to that Halloween party this weekend we still don't have any ideas for an uncomplicated, inexpensive, non exploitative costume that you can still dance in.

Suggestions are welcome!

A day at the zoo!

New York City or "The city" as I like to call it is a strange and fascinating place.  Growing up on Long Island not too far away, The city became a familiar place to visit and after  four years of college, living upstate, in the middle of nowhere, I was desperate to move to this beautiful, exciting, shiny place.  I have now been living in Queens as close to Manhattan as you can get for over a year and I now have a different perspective on living in this great city.

I dreamed about living here for so long and thought that this would be the perfect place for me what with the endless distractions and countless people to meet, but I never realized how isolating this city can be and how lonely it can make you feel.  8 million people live here and tons of tourists visit everyday; you can find any activity you can imagine and some of the best food and drinks in the world.  But of those 8 million people only a handful are my friends and of all those things to do 99% of them require a 30 minute plus subway ride and a significant amount of money.  I often find myself at a loss for things to do when work is slow.  Who do I call?  Where do I go?  How much money do I spend on meaningless distractions?  Usually I just curl up on my couch and watch 80 episodes of Say Yes to the Dress and wind up cooking and baking until it is time to go to bed, but often I long for fresh air and a small town to explore where no one will bother me while I sit for hours sipping a cup of cappuccino and reading or writing.

Today is the most gorgeous kind of fall day - it is overcast and has been drizzling from time to time, but in my jeans and light coat I am neither cold nor hot and I am relatively without work to do.  Since the weather shifted into fall I have been having a particular ache for fresh air and today I finally decided to do something about it.  So here I am hanging out with a peacock and the flamingos, eating lunch and writing this blog!

My lunch buddy!

Of all the things I dish out money for my favorite and most well spent yearly expense is my zoo membership.  I have an individual premium membership, which allows me and a guest to get into any of New York City's 4 zoos and the aquarium.  I highly recommend this deal as it supports a good cause and I have certainly gone enough times for it to be worth the money.  I think I go to the zoo (one of them) about once a month both on my own and with my boyfriend (who never complains!)  I absolutely love zoos, especially the New York ones!  I just love getting in some fresh air while the animals simply captivate me.  I could never get bored of going to the zoo.  Every time I go I see something new and something incredible.  And I always have my favorites that I must see as if I were visiting an old friend.

Today I took an hour trip all the way up to the Bronx Zoo by myself while everyone else is still at work or in school.  Going back to the strangeness of big city life is the intimidating, yet satisfying ritual of doing an activity completely by yourself.  Again, you would think that I could find someone to go to the zoo with (especially since I can get them in for free!)  But of the limited people that I would want to go with all of them tend to be terribly busy and therefore unavailable when I finally find the time myself.  So it is up to me to rally my motivation, which can be limited too, and get my butt on the subway.  It is all on me to entertain myself for the hour trip there and back and when I get tired or frustrated or bored I have no one to complain to, except the polar bear.  But as hard as it can be to take that first step out the door, it can be so refreshing to know, in an extrapolating kind of way, that I can take care of myself and am truly independent.  My reward for my efforts are the 3, now grown tiger cubs napping together and my pal and all time favorite polar bear playing with an ice-berg like toy and even the rarely spotted grizzly bear swimming in it's pond.  Already I am feeling revitalized, refreshed, and happy that I came and I still have so many more animals to see.

He's playing!!!!!!!!!

I just find such peace from the smells, sights, and sounds of these lovely creatures, living their lives, playing and enjoying themselves and their friends.  I love New York City dearly, but it is nice to come here and feel like I am surrounded by friends.  I know that here everything I need is within walking distance and that walking around my lungs will be filled with fresh air instead of the rank smells of the subway.  The zoos, and especially the Bronx Zoo today, are my little escape, my little paradise.  After today's trip I will have a little more patience for the noise of the subways and the stench of the streets or maybe I will even have a bit more willingness to line up my schedule with a good friend of mine's.  But even if tomorrow I return to my pajama and tv watching ways, at least instead of a day of stress and pressure I had a day or smiles and peace.

Time to go find the baby sea lion!

Baby got bigger since the last time I saw her :)

When I was little I thought I'd marry a man named Eric...

… yes of course that comes from my obsession with the “Little Mermaid.” I'm sure that it subconsciously factored into my years of red hair too. But alas, so far no Eric.

Without dragging up the gory details, because, frankly, I'm done with them, my life changed last week. 

We broke up. I broke down. I cried. But I'm not crying now. I feel good. 

The people in my life who care about me, like, actually care about me, told me I was better off. I believe them. I agree with them. I wasn't treated well. I deserve better. I'll find better.

But until that happens, I've decided to focus on me. I've signed up for a class that I want to take. I'm buying the food I want to buy. I'm watching the TV I want to watch. By the way, check out “Orange is the New Black.” You won't regret it.

I'm also thinking a lot about my future. What I want from a partner. When I find someone to share my life, I've got criteria. I need to be respected, loved, liked because of the things I like. The Muppets, nerdy movies, books, wearing my hair in a comfortable topnot and the mint green bunny sweater I bought because it made me happy. And it's adorable. Duh.

Through any life change, good or bad, I turn to music. The stages of adaptation are met with certain songs that help us move along, deal with issues, get over a bad day, celebrate a good day, hell, do the dishes. So here is the journey my mind took this last week.

Also, if anyone knows of an Eric, help a sister out...

"Breakin' Up" by Rilo Kiley

"Smarter" by Eisley

"Goodbye, Goodbye" by Tegan and Sara 

"99 Problems" by Jay-Z. Of course. 

And now: 

 

"Moving Right Along" by my beloved Muppets

Sometimes, The Lateral Move: An Update of Sorts

After being rejected (see Shot Though the Heart) from a job within my immediate company, I went hunting for one within my parent company. And outside my parent company, as long as it wasn’t based in New York City, or anywhere in its surrounding area.

I found two: one at a university press, and the other at my parent company. The parent company position was extremely similar to the role I had been rejected from, so you can imagine my excitement!

The parent company makes attempting a transfer extremely casual. Before you send a resume, before you speak with your own HR department, before anything else happens, you schedule an informal information chat with the hiring manager.

The “informal chat” is secretly a phone interview, by the way. Thanks, mentor, for pointing that out to me so I went in completely prepared! I had a great, if nerve-wracking, conversation with the hiring manager, who referred me to her number 2, and I had a blast chatting with her as well. I didn't repeat any answers from three years ago - that was a big success. All went well, and hope floated in me, refusing to settle down. I had butterflies for a week.

Well, the she called me back today and said, with regret, that they wouldn’t be continuing to the formal interview process because I hadn’t had enough experience. They really liked me, and thought I would be a great fit, but I just wasn't experienced enough. Just like my learning tour manager said. Am I disappointed? Absolutely. This stinks. Like many other humans, I'm extremely impatient. I don't like working and waiting to get things, I just want them. Now. Please.

But I’m also elated because she’s referring me to two other departments for similar openings at a lower experience level. I feel justified, and vindicated, as if there is actually more to me than just data points and rote reporting. I am a human, and I am good at more than just statistics and filling in Excel sheets.

I haven’t heard from the university press beyond that they’re interested in speaking with me, but already have a list of finalists. If they don’t end up interviewing me, they’ve promised a more extensive reply, and possibly a short advisory session where they’ll tell me all the things I need to do for next time. This job isn’t a reach for me, it’s a remarkable combination of my current position, and the work I did on my learning tour.

I guess today was not a win in the short term, but the war is still raging. I’m not seeing a reason to be discouraged. My mentor (thank god I have a mentor, she really is the cat’s pajamas) thinks it’s all going in the right direction, and I’ll come out on top. This might be my late-twenties patience test; I've had one every five or so years for as long as I can remember.

So, chin up, I guess. Keep crossing your fingers for me, and hopefully early next year will find me in the Sound-swept arms of Seattle.

Starting Over: Switching Career Paths at 27

My husband and I got married in April and thought it would be a great idea to move all the way across the country two weeks later. We drove from Massachusetts to Florida in almost exactly twenty four hours (it was twenty four and a half) and we set our roots down in Fort Lauderdale. We love it here. I haven't worn anything but flip flops since May, and it doesn't look like they are leaving my closet anytime soon. Back home I was a Software Analyst/Consultant. The job description is as glamorous as it sounds. I was the "middle man" between my company and the hospitals we supported. When they had an issue with their software, they would call me to complain and I would have to figure it out. I spent six years doing that right out of college, and it might just be the complete opposite of what I had envisioned myself doing when I grew up.

 

With all this said, I had moved to Florida fully intending on picking up a similar job within a hospital setting. This time I wouldn't be the complainEE, I would be the complainER. As fate would have it, being a Software Analyst was just no longer in the cards for me. I went on a few interviews, got chased by a few recruiters to do traveling work (just married, not interested), and I probably sent in over 50 applications with my resume attached. After three months of some solid job searching, soul searching, and day dreaming, I realized NOW is the time to switch to my dream career. And what might my dream job entail you ask? Well...

Dog grooming! But in a broader sense... DOGS. Dogs are what I want to spend my days around. Why? Because they are so much cooler than humans. They are cuter, they judge less, they have more fun, and they are just so damn happy all of the time. Do you need any other reasons? I have a dog-son, Tiger, who is a Pit Bull/Boxer mix (we think?) who we rescued almost two years ago. He is my inspiration for switching career gears. I have loved dogs my whole life, but until I had him I never fully thought about working with them as a source of income. And now it makes SO MUCH SENSE.

I did some research and found a school ten minutes from my house that offers a certification program to become a Professional Dog Groomer. After even more research, I found that you don't get licensed to be one, and that most people actually never get certified and just open up a shop, sometimes with little to no experience... which is frightening. (Do your research before bringing your pooch anywhere!) 300 hours is required by the National Groomer's Association, and I found that is pretty much the standard across the entire country. I took a tour at the school, which is also a full-time grooming salon, daycare, and boarding facility as well. The instructor was so friendly and personable, and as soon as I walked in I had puppies jumping all over my legs. Um, HI HEAVEN. Nice to meet you.

I decided since I was unemployed and could afford to do so, I would just do my 300 hours full time. I go Tuesday-Friday from 8:30 to 3:30, with an occasional Saturday thrown in. I am about 175 hours into my certification so far. And... I love it. My instructor is also a certified Vet Assistant and was a trainer for many years prior. With all of her knowledge, I am really learning a lot about not only how to properly groom a dog, but also about their temperaments, anatomy, history, and training.

I've also made some new friends:

 Spike... We got intimate in the bath a few times.

 Daisy... She's my BFF when she comes in

Lani... Our daycare "mascot"

The Golden Girls... Mimi and Laicee

Louie... Seriously with those eyes?! STOP IT.

I gotta say, at first it was nerve wracking. They give you all of the tools, which were included in the tuition, and I had never used 95% of them. The first time I picked up a clipper, it might as well be the first time I used chop sticks. Just completely foreign to me. I learned quickly though, and although I am only a little over halfway through, I am doing full head-to-tail grooms. Typically, students don't get to work on the heads until later in their hours, but I am just that good. What can I say... toot, toot.

This is Biloxi... A Standard Schnauzer that I received an A+ on!

I have a little over a month left of classes, and then I can look for a job doing something that I care about. Do you know how amazing it is to say something like that? Some people never get to say something like that, and for that I am so grateful. Some people spend their whole lives paycheck to paycheck, doing a job they despise, for all sorts of circumstances. I am so fortunate to have the universe show me a lesson by denying me a position that I hated, and making me shift my views on what I deemed "work". The universe has it's own way of balancing you out sometimes, I truly believe that. And I would never had made the switch without the support and push from my amazing husband. He really told me to go for it. And honestly, I don't know if I really would have if he had not been behind me on this 100%. I'm forever grateful to him for that, and of course many other reasons.

Some days I sit here an think I could be sitting at a desk somewhere, counting down my hours, and fielding phone calls and meetings. But no... Tomorrow I'll get to school and be greeted by a bunch of wagging tails and wet noses all ready to get pampered and pretty. I really love where I am at right now. And to get all mushy on you right now...