Wow. It's been over year since that last blog post, and things are certainly different now than they were then. For one, the man I mentioned breaking up with in my last post is in fact my current boyfriend. We live together now, in a big four-bedroom house in Sacramento that he inherited from his dad. We have roommates, of course, to help pay the mortgage, plus a dog named Molly, two kitties, and four mice. The house is huge, but old, and needs some work to get it up to my (somewhat exacting) standards. Luckily I finally have some money coming in that I can use to help pay for it's upkeep.
Where is the money coming from, you ask? Why, politics! Don't be so surprised, if you've met me you know how well politics works with my personality. The path here was winding, however. Let's look back at the last year.
Breaking up with R lasted about a week and a half before I realized what a mistake I'd made, nipping something good in the bud on the possibility of future sadness. He still teases me about it. We've had our good times and our rough spots, just like any relationship, but things have been going steadily for a year now, and we've lived together for four months. I can see this relationship continuing for a long time... but let's not get to speculative.
After months of job hunting, fighting with my mom, dealing with money issues, and general dissatisfaction and frustration, I managed to find a position as a tutor at a continuation high school for troubled youth in Woodland. The experience was... interesting, to put it nicely. Hellish, awful, and soul-destroying is another way to put it. The first few moths were a major struggle as I figured out how to deal with stupid, lazy, arrogant, racist teenagers. Not all of them were like that, of course, but I was shocked at the number f them that harbored serious anger, homophobia, and blatant inability to function in modern society. Like the girl who wrote her biology essay on how evolution never happened, but would yell at anyone who said mean things about gays. Or the boy who decided to wait until next year to graduate because he didn't want to write a five page essay. I could go on, but I'm beginning to depress myself, so let's save it for anther time.
After that job ended (and on an up note, after the third month I really started to get it, and by the end of the job I got a great evaluation), I floated around for a few weeks, when suddenly an opportunity fell into my lap. My mother's friend David works in the Capitol, and knew about an internship program there with the Speaker pro Tempore of the Assembly. I looked her up, and found her policies fit well with my political leanings, and so I applied for the job. I guess my interview went well because they took me on even though I wasn't a student!
The next three months were a whirlwind of awesomeness. I was *in* the Capitol, working day in and day out in the heart of California politics. It was heady, fascinating, and I fell in love with the whole process. I'll talk about that some more in another post, but I've gotta catch you all up on what I'm doing now.
The job at the Capitol ended on September 1st, and many midterm elections were in full swing by then. So when my office mates mentioned that the author of Prop. 8 (boo hiss!) was running, I decided I was going to join his opponent and make sure that a bigoted homophobe didn't make it into the Assembly. I originally started with my candidate as a volunteer, but within two weeks I was the Volunteer Coordinator of the whole campaign, with a paycheck and a business card. Guess I'm good at bs-ing my way into situations. :)
Anyway, two months of 14 hour days and 6 days workweeks paid off, and we won! It was one of the happiest and most exhaustive weeks of my life. On top of it all, I've also been teaching college at a local private University in Sacramento. I can't say which one, but the experience has been eye-opening for sure. I love teaching, but I can't depend on it full time for enough money to live. Luckily, next week my candidate gets sworn in, and I get to be back in the building (fingers crossed).
I suppose that's all for now, but I promise more details in the future, and better updates about my crazy, crazy life.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Don't start things you can't finish...
This week has been very difficult for me. The issues that I discussed in my last post, i.e. dealing with dating while living at home, not being happy in Davis, etc., developed into my making the decision to end my budding relationship. I know it seems premature, however, looking down the line into our future, I could see issues cropping up. For one, my desire to move away from the central valley and out into the Bay Area, either for work or school. I simply cannot settle for a place like Davis or Sacramento, not after having experienced New York City and Tokyo. So, it basically came down to this-- do I let yet another relationship end due to my moving away, and get my heart broken again, or do I admit defeat and end things now before we are both too involved? As sad as it may be, I went for the latter. I simply can't stand the idea of yet another relationship being cut off due to my dedication to my career. Also, I could hardly give him the attention and dedication that he both needs and deserves. In a sort of "woulda coulda shoulda" moment, I realize now that I never should have started a relationship in the first place; at least, not until I have my life more under control, financially and geographically.
Honestly, I think I need to analyze my life emotionally as well. There are many things that I know that I do in relationships that are damaging to myself. For one, I tend to mold myself into whoever my partner wants me to be. Some of this might come from my own distrust of emotion-- I think I tend to trust lust more than love. I'm always sort of surprised when people find me physically attractive, and I think I tend to over-respond to that. Perhaps this stems from my own lack of confidence in my looks, but it's getting better. At least I know these things about myself, and can therefore analyze how I'm behaving based on my own knowledge of my flaws.
Secondly, I need to understand fully my relationship with P. Once again, I think this is an unwillingness to give up a possible sex partner. He is my most consistent partner-- I've slept with him more consistently than anyone else in the last 14 months; and frankly, anyone else who was not a boyfriend. Despite my desire to *not* find him attractive, to make him *just* my (really irritating) friend, I seem to be somehow incapable of turning him down. He annoys the living daylights out of me, but my physical reaction to him is so strong, it often overwhelms my good sense. Of course, his reaction to this is to tell me that I'm the one in control, not him, and that it is *me* who keeps making these decisions. He's right, of course. I just need to learn how to NOT make that decision.
I'm not really sure how to change my behavioral patterns. Sometimes I feel like I need a stable relationship, but that is not possible right now. Other times I feel like maybe I should just be alone again, but that is also difficult. So what do I do? Be single for another two years, only having fleeting sexual relationships with no emotion? Stop having sex until I am emotionally involved? I'd almost have to laugh at that one. Anyone who knows me knows that I am very sexual... it's not easy for me to be celibate for any long length of time. Yet, perhaps that is *exactly* what I need. To step back and analyze my approaches before I enter into any kind of relationship, emotional or sexual, with anyone.
Who knows.
Honestly, I think I need to analyze my life emotionally as well. There are many things that I know that I do in relationships that are damaging to myself. For one, I tend to mold myself into whoever my partner wants me to be. Some of this might come from my own distrust of emotion-- I think I tend to trust lust more than love. I'm always sort of surprised when people find me physically attractive, and I think I tend to over-respond to that. Perhaps this stems from my own lack of confidence in my looks, but it's getting better. At least I know these things about myself, and can therefore analyze how I'm behaving based on my own knowledge of my flaws.
Secondly, I need to understand fully my relationship with P. Once again, I think this is an unwillingness to give up a possible sex partner. He is my most consistent partner-- I've slept with him more consistently than anyone else in the last 14 months; and frankly, anyone else who was not a boyfriend. Despite my desire to *not* find him attractive, to make him *just* my (really irritating) friend, I seem to be somehow incapable of turning him down. He annoys the living daylights out of me, but my physical reaction to him is so strong, it often overwhelms my good sense. Of course, his reaction to this is to tell me that I'm the one in control, not him, and that it is *me* who keeps making these decisions. He's right, of course. I just need to learn how to NOT make that decision.
I'm not really sure how to change my behavioral patterns. Sometimes I feel like I need a stable relationship, but that is not possible right now. Other times I feel like maybe I should just be alone again, but that is also difficult. So what do I do? Be single for another two years, only having fleeting sexual relationships with no emotion? Stop having sex until I am emotionally involved? I'd almost have to laugh at that one. Anyone who knows me knows that I am very sexual... it's not easy for me to be celibate for any long length of time. Yet, perhaps that is *exactly* what I need. To step back and analyze my approaches before I enter into any kind of relationship, emotional or sexual, with anyone.
Who knows.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Living the life of a semi-adult
When I started this blog, I knew that despite my best efforts I would forget to update, and so it comes as no surprise that it's been three weeks since my last post. It has been, in fact, a very interesting three weeks, so I need to just take a moment to figure out what to talk about first. The frustration of living at home and having no privacy? The lack of money? The pro-wrestler I started dating two weeks ago?
Yes, I said pro-wrestler. As in tights, screaming into a microphone, staged fights PRO-FUCKING-WRESTLER. Finally, a man who is not only bigger than me, but can, in fact, pick me up and toss me across a room without batting an eye. I'd swoon, but I left my whalebone corset and smelling salts back in 1885.
Honestly though, he's pretty awesome. Definitely different from the type of person I usually date. For one, he's an adult, 8 years my senior and happy in a steady, very well paying job in IT. Secondly he's not rail thin and riddled with emotional issues like a soda can on a redneck's fence. For another, despite what you might think when I say "pro-wrestler," he is a kind, charming, and brilliant human being. The brilliance can be proved by the fact that he is a bona fide member of MENSA, the kind and charming you'll just have to take at my word. Of course, it's very likely I may be laughing to hard to tell you, because he's also hilariously funny.
Not everything is wine and roses, however. He does, like every other human being, have his downsides. For one, he's a divorcee, with two daughters of his own. Although they don't live with him, it has been a new experience for me to negotiate dating someone with that much life experience under their belt. I sometimes feel so immature compared to him, but only in a strange sort of way. Obviously I am glad I never had children, but since it's a part of his life that I don't really understand, but takes up so much of his time, I wonder how much we can really share with each other. Also, he snores like a drunken bull moose.
It's been strange trying to do the dating dance while living at home. I don't really have a place of my own to bring him, and driving out to Sacramento all the time to go to his place is fine, but I miss being able to be in my own comfort zone. After having lived alone for so long, and being so used to defining my own hours, food, and when and where in my house I have sex, having to let someone else dictate those things is incredibly frustrating. I am overwhelmingly thankful to my folks for letting me stay with them while I am broke and in debt, but the trade-off is hard.
I've also been missing New York a lot in the last few weeks. Coming back to a small town after the excitement and drama of the capital of the world is just... heartbreaking. I really wasn't ready to leave New York yet. I feel like I had so much still to do there... but now I just have to dial everything down to living at home in Davis and drinking my pain away with the townies.
Wow... now I'm fucking depressed. I'm gonna go see what the townies are doing.
Yes, I said pro-wrestler. As in tights, screaming into a microphone, staged fights PRO-FUCKING-WRESTLER. Finally, a man who is not only bigger than me, but can, in fact, pick me up and toss me across a room without batting an eye. I'd swoon, but I left my whalebone corset and smelling salts back in 1885.
Honestly though, he's pretty awesome. Definitely different from the type of person I usually date. For one, he's an adult, 8 years my senior and happy in a steady, very well paying job in IT. Secondly he's not rail thin and riddled with emotional issues like a soda can on a redneck's fence. For another, despite what you might think when I say "pro-wrestler," he is a kind, charming, and brilliant human being. The brilliance can be proved by the fact that he is a bona fide member of MENSA, the kind and charming you'll just have to take at my word. Of course, it's very likely I may be laughing to hard to tell you, because he's also hilariously funny.
Not everything is wine and roses, however. He does, like every other human being, have his downsides. For one, he's a divorcee, with two daughters of his own. Although they don't live with him, it has been a new experience for me to negotiate dating someone with that much life experience under their belt. I sometimes feel so immature compared to him, but only in a strange sort of way. Obviously I am glad I never had children, but since it's a part of his life that I don't really understand, but takes up so much of his time, I wonder how much we can really share with each other. Also, he snores like a drunken bull moose.
It's been strange trying to do the dating dance while living at home. I don't really have a place of my own to bring him, and driving out to Sacramento all the time to go to his place is fine, but I miss being able to be in my own comfort zone. After having lived alone for so long, and being so used to defining my own hours, food, and when and where in my house I have sex, having to let someone else dictate those things is incredibly frustrating. I am overwhelmingly thankful to my folks for letting me stay with them while I am broke and in debt, but the trade-off is hard.
I've also been missing New York a lot in the last few weeks. Coming back to a small town after the excitement and drama of the capital of the world is just... heartbreaking. I really wasn't ready to leave New York yet. I feel like I had so much still to do there... but now I just have to dial everything down to living at home in Davis and drinking my pain away with the townies.
Wow... now I'm fucking depressed. I'm gonna go see what the townies are doing.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
California Dreamin'
Well, I'm back home, safe in the land of bicycles and cow poop. As I have attempted to explain to many people over the years, cow poop is a very nostalgic smell for those of us from the Central Valley-- that, combined with freshly cut alfalfa, is the smell of home. Perhaps not the most poetic of perfumes, but it's true nonetheless.
I've been home for about a week now, but I still feel as if I am only visiting, and will be returning to New York soon. I'm waiting for the day when I realize that I no longer live on the East Coast; it will most assuredly be an interesting day. Honestly it hasn't really felt like a vacation, I get up at 8 everyday and job hunt for most of the morning. I have been trying to be extra careful to keep my room clean and not to trigger any of my mother's OCD about the house, which has only gotten worse since she retired. So far, I have been doing pretty well, although it is hard not to fall back into old habits.
Speaking of old habits, I did fall back into a particular one since I've returned, not realizing that with how much things have changed in the last year it wasn't the best idea. Although last year my slightly-more-than-friends relationship with a certain boy was actually quite healthy for me mentally, I am realizing that at this moment in my life I am too emotionally vulnerable to be able to participate equally in this exchange. To put it simply, I am getting emotionally attached to someone that I don't want to be attached to, particularly since he is also uninterested in a real relationship. So, I need to make some adjustments in our friendship, which are probably going to frustrate the hell out of both of us, but do me (and maybe him) a lot of good in the long run. I am not the same person I was even 10 months ago-- not only am I more confident in myself, but I am also more aware of my own shortcomings and tendencies, especially when it comes to relationships. I suppose the older we get the more we learn what is bad for us, and those of us willing to learn from that move on to better and more healthy habits. Of course, there are always those who never learn... and that is how we get all the crazies with too many babies. Heh. Condescension for the win.
Job hunting is turning out even more frustrating than originally anticipated. After trying to do this myself for a few days, I have decided to hire a head-hunter to help me find a position. I would love to work in something that uses my abilities in Japanese, but at this point I just need a job, and if they can find me something to do for awhile until I find a career position, I will snatch it up. I am planning on applying for a position as an assistant professor of Japanese History at Stanford starting in the 2010 school year, but we will have to see if they will accept someone with just an MA or someone on the track to a PhD. Here's hoping. I have a fantasy of this working out, and of being at 27 year old professor at Stanford... very possibly a pipe dream but lovely nonetheless. Yet, if I keep my expectations high, perhaps I will be pleasantly surprised when they are fulfilled.
I've been home for about a week now, but I still feel as if I am only visiting, and will be returning to New York soon. I'm waiting for the day when I realize that I no longer live on the East Coast; it will most assuredly be an interesting day. Honestly it hasn't really felt like a vacation, I get up at 8 everyday and job hunt for most of the morning. I have been trying to be extra careful to keep my room clean and not to trigger any of my mother's OCD about the house, which has only gotten worse since she retired. So far, I have been doing pretty well, although it is hard not to fall back into old habits.
Speaking of old habits, I did fall back into a particular one since I've returned, not realizing that with how much things have changed in the last year it wasn't the best idea. Although last year my slightly-more-than-friends relationship with a certain boy was actually quite healthy for me mentally, I am realizing that at this moment in my life I am too emotionally vulnerable to be able to participate equally in this exchange. To put it simply, I am getting emotionally attached to someone that I don't want to be attached to, particularly since he is also uninterested in a real relationship. So, I need to make some adjustments in our friendship, which are probably going to frustrate the hell out of both of us, but do me (and maybe him) a lot of good in the long run. I am not the same person I was even 10 months ago-- not only am I more confident in myself, but I am also more aware of my own shortcomings and tendencies, especially when it comes to relationships. I suppose the older we get the more we learn what is bad for us, and those of us willing to learn from that move on to better and more healthy habits. Of course, there are always those who never learn... and that is how we get all the crazies with too many babies. Heh. Condescension for the win.
Job hunting is turning out even more frustrating than originally anticipated. After trying to do this myself for a few days, I have decided to hire a head-hunter to help me find a position. I would love to work in something that uses my abilities in Japanese, but at this point I just need a job, and if they can find me something to do for awhile until I find a career position, I will snatch it up. I am planning on applying for a position as an assistant professor of Japanese History at Stanford starting in the 2010 school year, but we will have to see if they will accept someone with just an MA or someone on the track to a PhD. Here's hoping. I have a fantasy of this working out, and of being at 27 year old professor at Stanford... very possibly a pipe dream but lovely nonetheless. Yet, if I keep my expectations high, perhaps I will be pleasantly surprised when they are fulfilled.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Goodbye New York; Hello California!
So, life-changing decisions have been made. I have decided, after much self-analysis, as well as much analysis of my bank account, to move back to California. The last few weeks have taught me that New York, as lovely and amazing as it is, might be the place for me anymore. When I was here for school, I had things to do every day, I had money to spend, and I was busy enough to keep my mind occupied. However, being here for school and being here desperately trying to find a job and a place to live gives one a very different lens from which to view this place. What I need, in Maurice's words, is a place to "regroup". And what better place to regroup than home, with my family?
I am actually beginning to get terribly excited about the whole affair. Being able to be back home, with my close friends and family, as well as the possibility of finding a job in the Bay Area, is amazing. It has always been my determination to move to Berkeley at some point, perhaps this is my chance-- just much earlier than I expected. But, life is full of unexpected surprises and opportunities.
Beyond even the possibility of work in San Francisco, I am happy to be able to be home for awhile to help out my mom. I know she has been missing her children immensely, and I think that having me nearby will help her depression a lot. She told me on the phone yesterday that she feels I am someone who truly understand both her and her situation, and that she is very excited to have me home. I was touched, but I have to be careful to walk the fine line of supporting her while not taking on too much of the burden. I can't live her life for her, and neither can I completely subsume my life into hers.
However, the excitement grows. I feel no regret in leaving New York, only a mild sort of nostalgia. Any real regret that I could feel is overshadowed by an excitement about returning to the state that I love, that state that shaped me and made me who I am. Where else can I fit in better than where I was born and raised? Where else but the sunny valleys and beaches can I be who I was meant to be? So, instead of a fabulous New Yorker, I will be a crazy, tattooed, funny, tan, sweet, laid back Californian. Onto a new adventure!
I am actually beginning to get terribly excited about the whole affair. Being able to be back home, with my close friends and family, as well as the possibility of finding a job in the Bay Area, is amazing. It has always been my determination to move to Berkeley at some point, perhaps this is my chance-- just much earlier than I expected. But, life is full of unexpected surprises and opportunities.
Beyond even the possibility of work in San Francisco, I am happy to be able to be home for awhile to help out my mom. I know she has been missing her children immensely, and I think that having me nearby will help her depression a lot. She told me on the phone yesterday that she feels I am someone who truly understand both her and her situation, and that she is very excited to have me home. I was touched, but I have to be careful to walk the fine line of supporting her while not taking on too much of the burden. I can't live her life for her, and neither can I completely subsume my life into hers.
However, the excitement grows. I feel no regret in leaving New York, only a mild sort of nostalgia. Any real regret that I could feel is overshadowed by an excitement about returning to the state that I love, that state that shaped me and made me who I am. Where else can I fit in better than where I was born and raised? Where else but the sunny valleys and beaches can I be who I was meant to be? So, instead of a fabulous New Yorker, I will be a crazy, tattooed, funny, tan, sweet, laid back Californian. Onto a new adventure!
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Sometimes the Big Apple has a worm in it
I think I just visited what is officially the worst apartment in the entire city of New York.
Okay, maybe I should back up a bit. It has been while since my last post, which was of course full of my ridiculous female squealings as per my new nephew. Ten days and several thousand miles later, I am back in the Big City. I arrived back in the land of public urination and inflated rents last Monday, and made my way to my good friend Chelsea's house, which she had graciously offered to let me stay in for as long as I needed to. She lives in a lovely and upcoming part of Brooklyn called Fort Greene, a place that is sort of like Manhattan's Upper East Side in suburb form. Spacious one-family brownstones and tree lined streets, where young parents push strollers that cost more than my last rent payment.
I admit without shame my envy of Chelsea. I am openly jealous of her fantastic apartment, her great job, her ability to travel every weekend, her boyfr-- okay, well maybe not her boyfriend. A pleasant enough man, even if he couldn't find a personality with a flashlight and a GPS. But he adores her, and that is worth some serious envy. I would desperately love to live in this neighborhood, but the possibility shrinks with every day that passes. As I mentioned, this is a pretty expensive neighborhood. And, as I am currently jobless, with $120 thousand in debt and $97 to my name, being able to afford rents out here seems high unlikely.
Speaking of jobs, in the last ten days I have applied for over 15 jobs. Last Wednesday, I applied for and was accepted to a position at Planned Parenthood. At first I was terribly excited to be working for a non-profit, especially one whose work I so admire. However, withing 4 hours of my first day I had quit. This was not the kind of work I had imagined-- political work, work that would help women to take control over their own bodies. Instead, it was door to door soliciting. Oh, no, excuse me, canvassing. That is what they like to call it, perhaps to make themselves feel better for bothering people during dinner. I realized after an hour that I wanted to punch my supervisor in the face after she had refused to take no as an answer, and had in fact caused a woman to be late for an appointment rather than let her go without a donation. I do believe in the message and services of PP, however, I refuse to have my job performance based on how proficient I am at annoying people enough that they give me money to shut me up. I left after telling them exactly how I felt about it, and left feeling both righteous and depressed. So now jobs are back to square one.
The apartment hunt seems to be going just as badly. I am attempting to find a room (even a room in a place shared by several people) for less than an arm, leg, and my firstborn child. Chelsea has been helpful in assisting me, sending me ads for places that she has found and letting her friends now that I am looking. Due to this I have an interview tomorrow at an apartment that, while it sounds fantastic, is somewhat above my intended payment range, especially due to the lack of employment. So, in an attempt to keep my costs low, I have also lowered my expectations. However, not low enough to forgive the apartment that I was introduced to today. I would like you, reader, to close your eyes and imagine what I am about to show you. Let it be a warning to all of you who would consider moving to New York City with less than a million dollars in your stock portfolio.
Imagine if you will a street in Brooklyn. The street itself is potholed and has weeds growing up in the cracks. On each side of the street stand several abandoned lots, factories, and what appears to be the temporary camp of several homeless persons. Look down at the slip of paper in your hand with the address, stare at the street, and realize with growing horror that the abandoned looking warehouse is, in fact, the address that you seek. Recoil in horror. Recoil again, this time with a muffled scream, as a rat the size of a small Labrador runs across the street. Realize with growing terror that not only is this a rodent infested crack den, it is a rodent infested crack den that costs $650 a month. Rethink your life decisions, and fight back tears. Now, gather the rest of your dignity, and haul ass. Drown memory of apartment with beer. Repeat.
Good lord. I should have listened to my guidance counselor and gone to business school.
Okay, maybe I should back up a bit. It has been while since my last post, which was of course full of my ridiculous female squealings as per my new nephew. Ten days and several thousand miles later, I am back in the Big City. I arrived back in the land of public urination and inflated rents last Monday, and made my way to my good friend Chelsea's house, which she had graciously offered to let me stay in for as long as I needed to. She lives in a lovely and upcoming part of Brooklyn called Fort Greene, a place that is sort of like Manhattan's Upper East Side in suburb form. Spacious one-family brownstones and tree lined streets, where young parents push strollers that cost more than my last rent payment.
I admit without shame my envy of Chelsea. I am openly jealous of her fantastic apartment, her great job, her ability to travel every weekend, her boyfr-- okay, well maybe not her boyfriend. A pleasant enough man, even if he couldn't find a personality with a flashlight and a GPS. But he adores her, and that is worth some serious envy. I would desperately love to live in this neighborhood, but the possibility shrinks with every day that passes. As I mentioned, this is a pretty expensive neighborhood. And, as I am currently jobless, with $120 thousand in debt and $97 to my name, being able to afford rents out here seems high unlikely.
Speaking of jobs, in the last ten days I have applied for over 15 jobs. Last Wednesday, I applied for and was accepted to a position at Planned Parenthood. At first I was terribly excited to be working for a non-profit, especially one whose work I so admire. However, withing 4 hours of my first day I had quit. This was not the kind of work I had imagined-- political work, work that would help women to take control over their own bodies. Instead, it was door to door soliciting. Oh, no, excuse me, canvassing. That is what they like to call it, perhaps to make themselves feel better for bothering people during dinner. I realized after an hour that I wanted to punch my supervisor in the face after she had refused to take no as an answer, and had in fact caused a woman to be late for an appointment rather than let her go without a donation. I do believe in the message and services of PP, however, I refuse to have my job performance based on how proficient I am at annoying people enough that they give me money to shut me up. I left after telling them exactly how I felt about it, and left feeling both righteous and depressed. So now jobs are back to square one.
The apartment hunt seems to be going just as badly. I am attempting to find a room (even a room in a place shared by several people) for less than an arm, leg, and my firstborn child. Chelsea has been helpful in assisting me, sending me ads for places that she has found and letting her friends now that I am looking. Due to this I have an interview tomorrow at an apartment that, while it sounds fantastic, is somewhat above my intended payment range, especially due to the lack of employment. So, in an attempt to keep my costs low, I have also lowered my expectations. However, not low enough to forgive the apartment that I was introduced to today. I would like you, reader, to close your eyes and imagine what I am about to show you. Let it be a warning to all of you who would consider moving to New York City with less than a million dollars in your stock portfolio.
Imagine if you will a street in Brooklyn. The street itself is potholed and has weeds growing up in the cracks. On each side of the street stand several abandoned lots, factories, and what appears to be the temporary camp of several homeless persons. Look down at the slip of paper in your hand with the address, stare at the street, and realize with growing horror that the abandoned looking warehouse is, in fact, the address that you seek. Recoil in horror. Recoil again, this time with a muffled scream, as a rat the size of a small Labrador runs across the street. Realize with growing terror that not only is this a rodent infested crack den, it is a rodent infested crack den that costs $650 a month. Rethink your life decisions, and fight back tears. Now, gather the rest of your dignity, and haul ass. Drown memory of apartment with beer. Repeat.
Good lord. I should have listened to my guidance counselor and gone to business school.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
He has arrived!
My new nephew arrived today at about 4 pm Tokyo time! I missed the first phone call and didn't hear about it until about 7 pm. After 30 hours of pretty grueling labor, it was decided that my sister needed to have a C-section performed. Of course, she is fine, and that is a totally routine surgery, but it didn't keep me from bursting into tears over the phone. I really wish I could have been there for her. Sadly I cannot join mama and baby until Sunday, so it's four more days of waiting for me. It's really no surprise that she had to have the C-section, though, the baby was a whopping 8 lbs. 3 oz!! Just to give you a comparison my sister is about five foot 2 and weighs about 140 lbs., so you can imagine how rough that must have been. I really can't wait to see them!
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