Baby, It's Cold Outside

Mix equal parts gin, walnut cream sauce, and good friends. Garnish with sleep deprivation. Shake well. Serve over Dean Martin Christmas music.

This delightful little concoction will knock you on your ass and make you wish you had a sugardaddy instead of a job at work the next day. Trust me.

Fascinating conversation though. The trials and errors of finding one's soul mate are one of my favorite topics, one that often pops up if you hang out with lots of 28-year-old single women, which i do. Last night's convo had a twist though.

There we were...three slightly toasted souls just trying to make sense of it all. The one thing we had in common was that we all came from long legacies of hereditary soulmating. What i mean is that all of our parents, grandparents, and for all we know Neanderthal ancestors, had found a life partner to love wholeheartedly and depend on really, truly forever. We had all seen it. We would all recognize it if it happened to us. Because we had been witness to it in our own families, we would accept nothing less than the genuine, the certified, the absolute real thing.

My grandparents ages ago.

This is cause for some concern. What if the kind of love and commitment we've seen doesn't even exist anymore? What if it just went away like dinosaurs or Vanilla Ice? What if expectations, roles, and responsibilities are just different now? What if the whole thing was a sham set up by our relatives to confuse us? Perhaps they thought it would be funny to watch us constantly search for love like a mouse in a mirror maze. Yeah, hilarious.

My grandparents after 50 years of marriage.

I'm clearly blessed to have had such amazing relationship role models. But, have they ruined me for the reality of modern dating? It is entirely possible that the ideal has become an impossibility and that pickiness will be my downfall. But, i'm not entirely convinced that pickiness is my problem. Hand in hand with my mid-week drinking partners, settling is simply not an option. My friend made a very valid point..."I'm not even able to BE picky. There aren't even any losers around to turn down."

Fair enough.

My two lovely companions, let's hope that our genetic pre-disposition for successful relationships doesn't end up being some kind of auto-immune deficiency. Let's not give up on history quite yet. It can be done after all. We've seen it.

Optimism

After a big, nice glass of Spanish red and some yogic breathing, i came up with some reasons why this job isn't so bad:

1. They promise to move me to an office next summer that isn't 900 degrees and doesn't smell like a stale, old piece of toast.

2. I can work independently (sometimes from my home). If i do come to the office, i can wear my headphones the whole time. There are hardly any meetings.

3. My boss seems really nice.

4. They have lots of free food in the office (including popsicles and string cheese).

5. My commute is 6 minutes on foot.

Bigggggg Deeeeeeep Breeaaaaath.

Billable Hours

I’m feeling a bit nostalgic. I miss my old job. Not the situation that I left, but the day to day, the challenge, the way it was. I miss my friends and my boss. I miss feeling busy with work I liked and I miss feeling that my job was cool and did good for the world.

A few weeks ago, I was at an online marketing conference, this time as a vendor instead of a client. I sat in several sessions that used screenshots of my former projects as examples of kick-ass online marketing. On the one hand, it made me proud of the work we did at my last job. On the other hand, I felt a deep sadness that those days ended before I wanted them to. Next slide please. My days of making an impact and saving the world…of awards, magazine covers, and speaking invitations are over.

This weekend, I went with my beau to his holiday party. Everyone was happy and I could tell that not only did they enjoy each other but also enjoy the work they do. I went in the bathroom, my usual spot to go when I’ve had too much to drink and am feeling sorry for myself, to do some deep breathing and get organized. In those situations, I look in the mirror and talk to myself, usually in a stern, no bull-shit tone of voice. This time I said, “You are not your job.”

The person in the mirror nodded in agreement.

But, I’m feeling sorry for myself again today. Although I feel lucky to have any job at all, this one just isn’t doing it for me. I can’t seem to get over the lingering feeling that actually “I am my job. I am what I do for most of my time.” For me, my career is part of my identity. And, I’m having one hell of a time line-iteming my identity on a billable hours worksheet.

I used to think I could live on the age-old principle of getting the paycheck so that you can have fun with it after work. But if you don’t feel like having fun after work or if there isn’t any time left in the day to have fun, what’s the point of it all?!

I really do want this job to work out, but that terrifying feeling of boredom is creeping up and making me want to cry. And I always promised myself that when I start crying at my desk, it is time to move on.

Short of botoxing my tear ducts, what have I got?

I’ve got a brain that works.
I’ve got friends and family and a dog who love me.
I’ve got a sewing machine.
I’ve got some sweet potato gnocchi.
I’ve got choices and opportunity.
I’ve got courage and creativity.

Looks like all that is missing is patience. Not terrible, right? With all those things, surely I’ll pull this job thing together. Patience aside, let’s hope it is soon. I don’t know if this new job stocks Kleenex.

Shih Tzus for Obama

I was afraid to be so bold as to say that i just helped make history, but, really, didn't i?

Today might not go down as the most important day in the history of the universe...perhaps the Big Bang and that day when the first fish to haul herself from one puddle to another lived supersedes today by just a hair. But today may very well turn out to be the most monumental event in contemporary history. I'm simply thrilled to be 1. old enough to participate, 2. legally protected to do so, and 3. in DC to celebrate with a bunch of crazed political junkies afterward.

I just voted, got my free coffee from Starbucks, and am reveling in the excitement of my second election in DC. No one is doing any work at my office and it is only a matter of time until we all just surrender the fantasy and start streaming CNN.

Though it hardly needs to be said, i hope that all of my fellow Americans who still have voting rights get their tails to the elementary school or church or police station or VFW and cast their vote. If you're still undecided or haven't been paying attention, just vote for Obama. Actually, if you have any sense at all, vote for Obama. And, as if you still needed reasons, i just heard that Nebraska, my mega-Republican home state, is predicted to award Obama 1 of their 5 electoral votes. If that isn't monumental, i don't know what is.

Tentative

I usually rationalize my personality traits and gut reactions to things based on my astrological sign, Libra. (Happy birthday to all you Libras out there.) However, before leaving my last job, I received a personality profile that has given me a more fine-tuned explanation for my sometimes eccentric behaviour.

The profile was fascinating. Not because it illuminated intimate traits i didn't know i had, but rather because it had charts, graphs, color coding, and sophisticated language for things i have always known about myself. It had predictions, warnings, and advice the likes of which my financial advisor couldn't even imagine! I'm not one for statistics, columns, and rows. But, there is something kinda magical about your deepest, most cellular being mapped out on an x and y axis.

Basically, it told me this:

I am a manically social person who abhors structure, rules, and oversight. I will rebel at the slightest oppression, but genuinely cultivate peace and fairness. I like to think about things for a bit and cannot be rushed. Diplomacy comes naturally, as does calmly reacting to change. I will become grumpy and unsocial when i feel overwhelmed though.

One word for the last month: overwhelmed.

In a good way. In a not so good way. In a scary, exciting, anxious, exhilarating, exhausting, sad, lovely way.

Leaving a job. Starting a job. Starting a relationship. Maintaining relationships. Planning a party. Planning a vacation. Planning another party. Traveling. Interviewing. It is enough to make a girl want to take her Shih Tzu and go into hiding. Which is pretty much what i've done tonight and may continue to do for a while.

Calmly reacting to change is all great and wonderful until you find that you haven't done laundry in weeks, the library has turned you into collections, and your dog (not to mention your friends) has been assigned to another "calm" and "diplomatic" person. You know that scene in Ab Fab...the one where Edina gets an electronic planner and it keeps beeping at her until she gets so overwhelmed she throws the damn thing out the window. Like Edina, I am going to, in a totally calm and non-aggressive way, scream "Give me back my life!" to the universe and hope that it works. The universe is just going to have to cancel some meetings. You can’t live your life under that sort of pressure, darling.

So, I no longer have time for petals in my life. I want stems. At least for now…at least until I pay a bill and take a yoga class and feel a little bored. I am diplomatically and calmly tentative until further notice.

Breakin' up is hard to do?

I'm a pro at breakups. I have them all the time and have managed to get quite good at it like one might get good at chess or snowboarding. I got another practice last night.

There are lots of ways to deal with a breakup. You can wallow in self pity. You can start nasty STD rumors about the newly excised. You can run out and have a silly rebound. My strategy of choice is to negate the importance of the entire relationship. The beauty of this method is that as soon as you do it, it immediately becomes reality...a self-fulfilling prophecy of sorts. (This can be either good or lousy, depending on how sentimental you are.)

I have a well-rehearsed speech beginning with "I never liked him that much anyway" and ending with a complaint i didn't feel compelled to speak aloud while we were together; sometimes easy to rationalize (i.e. "He was an alcoholic."), sometimes more a stretch (i.e. "His shoes were too white and he didn't even like edamame.") However near or far i need to reach, complaining always makes me feel that there is someone else out there without these lame qualities...someone fabulous who is man enough to adore my quircks and like me anyway.

I didn't date last night's heartbreak long enough to be broken up about it, thank goodness. But, he did lend me the book High Fidelity, which i'm now frantically trying to finish before i have to give it back.

Even though i'm only on page 26 (ironically, a metaphor for the relationship that just ended), I did have much fun thus far. So, in honor of Nick Hornby and because my one and only forever lasting love will undoubtedly be music, here are my all-time top 5 breakup songs:

1. How To Fight Loneliness by Wilco

Well said. You do just laugh at every joke and smile all the time. And, most importantly, it is very wise to know that the first thing that you want is the last thing you ever need. Self help book? Not necessary. Just listen to this song on repeat.

2. It Hurt So Bad by Susan Tedeschi

I love her voice because it reminds me of Janice Joplin. If you need to be cheered up after being dumped play this at high volume with a group of sympathetic friends and sing along using empty (or full) wine bottles as microphones.

3. Greatest Mistake by Handsome Boy Modeling School

Hip hop has fortunately evolved to talk of things other than the constant pain inflicted by the opposite sex. Leave it to Handsome Boy to come up with a song that is simultaneously sexy, sad, and cleverly written.

4. By Myself by Res

This song is dedicated to only one of my breakups, but if given enough thought, could probably be applicable to the others as well. I'm considering changing my theme song from 32 Flavors to this one.

5. Heavy Heart by You Am I

This is quite possibly the saddest, most pathetic song ever written. I can hardly even feel sorry for myself listening to it, so consumed am i by this poor man's wine stains. If there is ever a song more sad than this, please don't ever share it with me.

And so another one bites the dust. Because i protectively guard my own feelings and selectively bestow my affection and trust, i'm somehow perceived as being covered in poisonous blowfish spines underneath my clothes. What else is new? I'm dating only thick-skinned fisherman from now on. Spread the word.

I've got a f-eva

I discovered a delightful distraction this week that has helped me completely blow off work and daydream away most of my afternoons...There Will Be Breakdowns. This is a blog created by a dear friend of mine from Sydney who is driving a van across the country with her dog, Ralph (he got his name from throwing up on a bratty kid...my kind of pup). She calls it a Vanta-C. I like to live vicariously through all my friends, but this is like accompanying Madonna, Kerouac, and Earhart to the moon in a vintage blimp. It is simply fabulous.

What I like most is that she admits to crying a lot. Crying for me is an unsustainable waste of water, one terrifying step closer to an IV drip. However, I do it often and have little control over when and where it will take place. My desk at work has become a favorite spot lately. I also like to cry while walking down Connecticut Avenue. The canal near the Georgetown waterfront is another good spot. I try not to cry at home because it upsets Olive.

On a kinda related note, I quit my job yesterday. I don't have plans to use the contents of my "Don't You Dare Touch This" ING savings account on a cross-country adventure with Olive sitting shotgun. I'm not cool enough to pull it off and, more importantly, Olive usually throws up in cars. So, I just got another job instead. I did all my crying over it last week. Now the adventure can begin.

Send my friend bunches of good energy. Her adventure will without doubt be amazing. And, since my new job will be helping small non-profits launch mega-successful online fundraising campaigns, it is only appropriate that i start right now by encouraging all my readers to donate to the Vanta-C. Let's keep gas in this girl's tank and keep the hope alive that you can still drop everything and travel unarmed across this country with only Apple electronics to keep you on track.

Good luck girl! You're incredible.