Get Outta Here

I've gotta be honest.

I will not be sorry to see January come to an end.

It has been brutally painful.

It has been nightmarishly cold, covered with snow, blustery winds, salt covered sidewalks, negative temperatures, broken down buses, grimy snow piles, dirty boots and soggy jeans.

But, for those of you that have been reading for awhile, it has also been tough emotionally.

One of the roughest months I've endured in quite some time.

It has been brutally painful.

It has consisted of joblessness, financial stress, borrowing money from my parents, filing unemployment every two weeks, the meager check from the government, waiting for call backs, interviews, more interviews, more waiting and more waiting.

Sadly, it has also consisted of a broken heart, loneliness, wishing to turn back the clock, sobbing, questioning myself, anger, frustration, lack of affirmation, unanswered questions, missing something so badly that you know you can't have and self-doubt.

So, no. I won't be sorry to say goodbye to the miserable month that is January 2009.

I just wish that welcoming February into my life didn't include stealthily dodging the Walgreens aisle and the Victoria's Secret window filled with pink and red hearts, sappy cards, romantic dinners and candy. I've already lined up my girls to get together that night and drink too much, eat too much and laugh too much.

Let's hope that this time, too much will be just enough.

Goodbye January. Get outta here. Wave your urban snowman arms one last time.

You won't be missed.

Two Roads Diverged

With advanced apologies to Robert Frost, I give you this slightly poetic, slightly frenetic explanation of the last few days of my life, regarding the job search.

--
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
[two great job opportunities became offers this week}
And sorry I could not travel both
[one was new consumer experience, one kept me as a B2B marketer]
And be one traveler, long I stood
[trying to make my decision based on my heart and not my bank account]
And looked down one as far as I could
[and called everyone that I trust and consider a career mentor]
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
[to try to see into the short and the long term where I'd most fit.]

Then took the other, as just as fair,
[I read everything about the consumer agency's, history, creative, vision]
And having perhaps the better claim,
[one agency was exposure to new expertise and the other was financial gain]
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
[at an agency that is very conservative, smart and corporate]
Though as for that the passing there
[it was in my B2B comfort zone, but would I grow and learn anything new]
Had worn them really about the same,
[where could I really rise to the challenge and step forward in my career.]

And both that morning equally lay
[talking back and forth to HR and my recruiter]
In leaves no step had trodden black.
[I was a tad bit panicked about having to make a choice]
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
[and I had to keep waiting to find out official offers and situation]
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
[I must follow my gut instinct on where I'd be happy]
I doubted if I should ever come back.
[because this is a commitment for the next phase of my life.]

I shall be telling this with a sigh
[more like the hooray of celebration!]
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
[after three months actively searching for a new job]
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
[I had a decision to make and feel confident that I have done the right thing]
I took the one less traveled by,
[and took a leap into consumer marketing to manage a global brand at a huge agency]
And that has made all the difference.
[and I hope that my heart has led me the right direction!]
--

I will write more about the position I've accepted when all the paperwork is final. It has been a stressful week of self-analysis, introspective thinking, mentorship, waffling, compensation review, gut-check feelings and a lot of discussion.

But, know this - my moaning, groaning and moping about unemployment is officially over. I am thrilled, honored and excited about the next step in my career.

I'm back, people. And I'm terrorizing the respected work of a famed American poet as I go.

Published!

I totally missed it, but looky here, people.

When I was feeling particularly broke, desperate and creative one day, I responded to a Craigslist ad that mentioned paying people for blog rants.

Uh, Craigslist?

I've got a blog here, and I'm pretty sure I could dig up some posts that qualify as rants.

So, I went to the site, RantBlogger and submitted a fair amount of old posts. And, I got an email response confirming that I was the author, that they were true stories, and that I was comfortable with being paid for a post.

Uh, RantBlogger?

Yes. Please.

So, I have been waiting, watching and curiously checking back on the site to see if it ever got published.

Nada.

Until today. I just saw this.

Apparently I missed it from last week. So, here it is. Enjoy.

And, do me a favor. Comment on it? Show me some RantBlogger love? And maybe berate the gross guy (who is misusing the Tribune site) who commented on it?

Thanks. And, yes, this really did happen to me. I wrote about it way back when.

Men amaze me. And not always in the good way.

10,000 Maybes

Maybe I'm impatient.

Maybe I'm a perfectionist.

Maybe I'm a control freak.

Maybe I'm eager.

Maybe I'm intolerant.

Maybe I'm an idealist.

Maybe I'm hard on myself.

Maybe I'm too analytical.

Maybe I'm unwilling to wait.

Maybe I'm stubborn.

Maybe I'm unable to see tomorrow.

Maybe I'm antsy.

Maybe I'm used to things coming easily.

Maybe I'm frustrated.

Maybe I'm losing it.

Maybe I'm lonely.

Maybe I'm bored.

Maybe I'm pessimistic.

Maybe I'm tired of myself.

Maybe I'm annoying.

Maybe I'm abnormal.


Maybe I just need to know when it will stop hurting so much.

This One's On Me

I didn't even recognize it at first.

It had been so long since I've heard it or seen it in action. I wasn't sure it still knew how to find me. The echoes of the doubt and questions in my mind had drowned out anything like it. Weeks had passed with none of it in my life.

When I was with my girls the other night, it appeared. Surprised us all.

I laughed. Out loud.

True, real, genuine laughter.

And I look forward to the day that it isn't rare, unusual or symbolic.

I should probably admit that the laughter came as a result of Comcast OnDemand TV Karaoke.

But that may be embarrassing.

Almost as bad as getting my Jeep Liberty stuck in a huge pile of snow today after an interview. I mean it. It is downright humiliating to drive what is probably the only Jeep vehicle in the Midwest that isn't equipped with four-wheel drive.

I bought it in Atlanta, get over it.

Anyway, teetering across the railroad tracks, after leaving the warehouse loft the design firm occupies, I slipped, slid and careened to my car, which was not so delicately entrenched in about 14" of snow, ice and general asphalt-grime. (Chicagoans know what I mean.)

I tip-toed through the snow, trying to avoid my heels digging in too far, and finally flung myself against the doorframe. Wiping the salt and snow dust debris from the front of my wool overcoat, I opened the car door and settled into the leather that was practically still warm.

It wasn't a long interview, thankfully.

I turned the car on, and put it into reverse. Turned around to back up, only then realizing how closely the yahoo behind me had parked. See how he likes a spare tire nudge. (Again, Chicagoans know what I mean.)

I gassed it, and went absolutely positively nowhere. I could feel the tires spinning in place. Since it is not my first rodeo (aka Winter), I put the car in drive and lurched forward. Or attempted to. I knew I needed to create some motion, to rock myself out of the miserable spot I'd landed myself into.

Drive. Gas. Brake. Reverse. Gas. Brake. Drive. Gas. Brake. Reverse. Gas. Brake.

The tires were useless. Is this thing on? Anyone?

Finally, I get out, wielding my plastic scraper (yeah, that's for windshields, Blondie) and headed to assess the back tire situation. There appeared to be a lot of snow everywhere (well duh) but nothing particularly icy or precarious or deep or treacherous blocking the tires.

I looked like a fool trying to scrape and hack my back tire out of the icy nothingness it was lodged into, but I had to try. Otherwise I'm helpless. In heels.

Then I get back in and repeat the method/madness again.

Drive. Gas. Brake. Reverse. Gas. Brake. Drive. Gas. Brake. Reverse. Gas. Brake.

Then, on one of my many forward motions, I actually caught myself lurching, leaning and stretching MY BODY forward to see if that would help. You know, like when you scoot forward a chair and use your body weight to help it move across the floor.

Yeah. Blondie? You're inside a 4,000-lb Jeep. I know you've eaten a few "I'm feeling sorry for my unemployed self and am lonely and bored too" candy bars, but come on sister.

You're not moving the Jeep with your BODY WEIGHT and will power.

I laughed out loud.

The sound rang out. The surprise must've caused a brief interruption in the drive/reverse/gas/brake method, and the car literally sprang out of the parking spot, and dismounted the mountain of hard-packed and slippery snow I'd gotten myself into.

The laughter bubbled up inside again when I realized I'd been parallel-parked in front of the back door of a police station. Complete with a window with lead-plated glass. And curtains. They probably were all inside munching donuts laughing at me.

But, I was laughing too, so that's okay.

This one's on me.

These Small Hours

As a follow up to my very personal and humbling post Sunday night that expressed the pain I have been going through, I wanted to share this. I heard this song on the radio today and think it can say better than I could how I'm feeing right now.

As a meager attempt in my own words, let me say that I'm optimistic, hopeful, informed, comforted and bearing no regrets. It is a new day.

--
"Little Wonders" by Rob Thomas

Let it go,
Let it roll right off your shoulder
Don't you know
The hardest part is over
Let it in,
Let your clarity define you
In the end
We will only just remember how it feels.

Our lives are made
In these small hours
These little wonders,
These twists and turns of fate
Time falls away,
But these small hours,
These small hours still remain.

Let it slide,
Let your troubles fall behind you
Let it shine
Until you feel it all around you
And I don't mind
If it's me you need to turn to
We’ll get by,
It's the heart that really matters in the end.

Our lives are made
In these small hours
These little wonders,
These twists and turns of fate
Time falls away,
But these small hours,
These small hours still remain.

All of my regret
Will wash away somehow
But I cannot forget
The way I feel right now.

In these small hours
These little wonders
These twists and turns of fate
These twists and turns of fate
Time falls away but these small hours
These small hours, still remain,
Still remain
These little wonders
These twists and turns of fate
Time falls away
But these small hours
These little wonders still remain.
--

These small hours have been tough for me, but I'm healing and moving on to bigger and better things.

I'm hopeful that the job front will open an opportunity this week, and I have reason to believe that is true, and with that, I begin again. I will start something fresh, while putting to bed the memories that the last year enabled, the relationships I have made and the joys that I experienced. Those I will treasure forever.

I refuse to feel regretful for sharing, loving, giving and opening myself up to being vulnerable. I know now that I can and will love again, and a new start, a new president, a new job and a new day will help me see things more clearly.

Little wonders still remain.

I'm Just Not There, Yet

I've been asked a lot lately why I haven't been writing. There are several answers to that very complicated question, and my normal storytelling self would want to get into them all, but the simple truth is this:

I haven't felt like it. I'm just not there. Yet.

It is not that I don't miss the feeling of a great post, when the words are spilling out of me faster than I can type them, or the reactions that your amazing comments provide me, or the increasing pride I feel as I realize that people are actually affected by, amused by, or intrigued by the silly, mundane, casual life observations I make.

But, I'm just not myself lately.

On the upside, there have been some good things. Christmas was wonderful with my family and my sister's lovely boyfriend. We lounged, ate homecooked meals, watched movies, fixed computer issues, went to church, shopped, saw a movie, enjoyed the 60 degree days with walks around the neighborhood, played board games and opened gifts with relish.

New Year's Eve was far more fun than I could have hoped for, and included dressing in 1920s garb for a speakeasy party in a renovated warehouse on Randolph Street. The party hosts had planned for rides home, and the warm sedan has never been more welcome. I ushered in the new year with a kiss and a toast with my friends. Unlike years past, the tick tock of the clock at midnight was a blessing, not a curse.

The Bulldogs got a win at their bowl game on New Year's Day. The birthday gifted tickets to "Wicked" were wonderful, and the show didn't disappoint. The snow couldn't put a damper on the celebration that entire weekend. For my birthday in Chicago, the girls and I closed down dinner at the lovely Jane's restaurant in Bucktown, and owned Marie's Riptide for several hours dominated by silly songs on the jukebox and cheap drinks from an 80 year-old bartender. All in all, my birthday was a week-long celebration with family and friends, and I feel so fortunate to be loved by so many, and so deeply. I ate well, drank well, dressed up and danced like no one was watching. Despite the 394 photos I know were taken to prove otherwise.

Lately, the job search is getting better, so that is a plus. I have two final last round "chemistry check" interviews this week, with two very different agencies, and am feeling like an offer is near. I also have two other interviews, one as a follow-up to a phone interview in early December, and one that is a "let's get creative and find a position for you because you're great" kind of thing. So, overall, this week could be it for the job search. I may actually get to open the bottle of Vueve Cliquot champagne that I've been saving for this occasion. The toast I will make, after twelve weeks without employment, will be with gusto and meaning.

On the downside, winter has been rough the past few weeks. It has been cold, bitter, disastrous, brutal, disheartening and far beyond any definition of cold that Webster's has ever drafted. It has sucked. Lucky for me, I haven't had to leave the couch all that often in the sub-zero temps. My car has remained put in the toasty warm garage, and my condo has never been cleaner.

But, the combination of the post-holiday blues, the unemployment blues and the winter blues is enough to make anyone feel not quite like themselves.

Frankly, I'd love to blame it on that.

The bitter truth is this: I'm heartbroken.

I won't divulge the personal, raw or painful details, but the fact is that I'm not quite myself in this role. I'm good at being the optimist. The positive thinker. The generous friend. The compassionate buddy. The loving and generous girlfriend.

I'm not good at being the one left behind. With so many questions. And so few answers.

I don't know how to begin. I'm waiting for the day when it isn't the first thing on my mind when I wake up, and the last thing on my mind when I go to sleep. I'm anticipating the moment when I can almost forget the pain.

I feel raw, opened up, exposed, vulnerable and ripped apart at the seams. I ache. I burn. I tire from running through all of the memories. I have forced myself to delete the images from my digital photo frame, to relieve myself of the 'kick in the gut' feeling that I had every time I entered the kitchen, faced with the past year of my life.

While I'm happy to recall the good times, they are the most painful of all. So much was good, rewarding, loving, kind, fun, hilarious, silly, comforting, generous, familiar, unfamiliar, new, fantastic, crazy, friendly, familial and great. But, apparently, that wasn't enough.

I'm ready to feel better. I'm anxious to feel normal. I desire to move on.

But, I'm just not there yet.

So, forgive my silence. My bitterness. My complete and total lack of ability to write about something else. Something funny, absurd, mundane and normal.

I'm just not there yet.

This too shall pass. Time will heal. Everything happens for a reason. Good things come to those who wait. I deserve someone who loves me fully, without abandon, devoid of reservation, as much as I do them.

Blah blah fricking blah.

I know this.

I'm just not there yet.

So, please—respectfully, painfully, honestly—I beg you.

Spare me the cliches. Save the "atta girl" comments. Keep the relationship advice to yourself. I can't take it. Just say hi to show your support. That is enough, for now. I'll know what you meant.

Trust me when I say that while it means a lot that so many people care, and want me to know how great I am, and how this will just be a blip on the radar someday, and how if this is not right, something else will be, and all that jazz...

I'm just not there.

Yet.