Someone Seeking Up

Meet our new goddog. She’s just about nine weeks old, she has very little spatial awareness, she gets tired climbing stairs, and she is just about the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen.



We were up at 7 a.m. to head across the street and watch her while her parents went out to get a procedure done. Yes, I wore pajamas. Yes, we all slept half the time. No, she didn't have any accidents. Did I mention how precious she is??

Oh, so yes. This job.

I contacted someone at the suggestion of himself's boss. He's agreed to sit down with me for coffee and talk about the industry up here, advice, blah blah blah. Basically, I was attempting to work on my networking skillz . . . and I thought the guy was meeting me as a favor to himself's boss. So we met for coffee -- a casual meeting, mind you -- and after chatting for half an hour, he pretty much offered me a job. Part time, full time, contract, long-term, whatever I wanted.

It’s an established publishing house, a bit of a commute, but long term they’re looking to move back downtown very close to where I live, which would be good. Not everyone works on site, so work-from-home options are probable. The department is the same as what I was in when I last left book publishing, and instead of assisting, I would actually be making deals. SCARY. But I would also obviously be learning as I go, working alongside this guy, and get to travel to the biggest trade fairs. A bigger/more traditional publishing house might be more comfortable for me because I would be lower down on the totem pole, but I would also be more vulnerable when cuts roll around and almost certainly wouldn’t get paid as much. Worst-case scenario: I do well and within six months, I'd have a base in the industry here and be able to move around to other places a bit better. He’s the one who mentioned that, as well as acknowledging that time frame. I could learn a lot at this place, and it could prove to be decently lucrative in the long-term.

Plus, any money is good at the moment, and I'm beginning to feel a bit useless. I'm thinking that I'll start with a short-term contract, just to see how it goes. That will also get me through the summer, which is completely dead and therefore places are less likely to be hiring.

Seems like my days of loafing about are coming to an end.

QUICK -- to the couch!

Hi.

I'm here.

In fact, I have absolutely no excuse for not writing, other than I don't FEEL like it. You can't force this stuff, y'know?

My days have looked something like this:

I roll out of bed around 10 a.m. The sun is usually shining, the birds are usually chirping, and I go out on the back deck to do yoga before I make my morning coffee. I then sit down to write for about an hour. After that, I shower and get down to business job hunting and networking and all of that stuff until lunch. At lunch, I eat and go for a bike ride. Then I come back and resume job hunting and networking. I call it quits around 4 p.m., when I head out to the front deck with a cup of tea/cocktail and a book. I start prepping for dinner around 5:30. Dinner comes out of the oven/off the stove around 7. It's delicious and nutritious. It's still been light outside, so after dinner I take a quick stroll around the 'hood. Then I come back home and get cuddly with Roxie. Himself is sometimes there, sometimes not. Knitting is sometimes on the agenda, sometimes not. I go to bed around midnight, tired but fulfilled.

That is mostly a lie.

I do usually roll out of bed around 10. But it is not always sunny, and I do not always do yoga on the deck. (I don't even really like yoga, but the studio where I used to take pilates classes stopped having pilates classes a while ago, and I'm desperate.) I do not write. I do, however, start my day with coffee and job hunting/networking, but it takes about an hour. Okay, I'm lying on two counts. I usually catch up with my Google Reader first because, you know, other people's lives are IMPORTANT. Then comes the job hunting/networking, which lasts about half an hour. Maybe 45 minutes. BBC World is on in the background. I do absorb some information. Sometimes. By this point I'm getting disgusted with myself and I shower and grab something to eat. Then I flip on HGTV, and all is lost. I don't really like Property Brothers, so if that's on I will do the afternoon job hunting/networking thing. It's usually shorter than the morning edition. I'm constantly checking Ravelry. Around 4 I go out on the front deck to get some fresh air. That lasts for about five minutes. The next few hours usually consist of listening to music and reading a book, sometimes cooking, but just as often heating up leftovers. I love leftovers. If himself is working, he comes home late and we'll pop out a couple of episodes of Mad Men (we've been rewatching the entire series). I usually crawl into bed around 2 a.m., and if I'm lucky I've washed my face, brushed my teeth, and flossed. If Roxie's lucky, I've cleaned her litter box. Rinse and repeat.

Things are about to change, though. For one, I'm gonna go crazy at Evergreen Brick Works tomorrow, so plant-tending will be added to the schedule. Oh, and also, I got a job offer. I'd tell you more about that, but I'm now off schedule and need to shower.

Oh, did I mention my mother-in-law is in town? She's settled into the routine quite well and has been happy as long as there are occasional bouts of shopping. Done and done.

I was riding my bike back from the west end of the city when I heard a woman screaming.

"TAYLOR!!!"

She was sobbing, screaming, and wandering around with no purpose.

"TAYLOR, WHERE ARE YOU?!??!?"

Ooooookay, I thought. This woman is obviously in distress. So, being the good Samaritan that I am, I pulled over and approached her (albeit quite cautiously).

"Do you need help?" I asked, thinking that her child or her dog had wandered off or something.

"Ohh . . . oh, I don't know," she said, looking around. "I lost my boyfriend, I don't know where he is."

I paused. I mean, what was I supposed to say to that? She was having a freaking meltdown -- on the other hand, if her boyfriend was anywhere within a two/three-block radius, he would've heard her. Also, how do you lose your partner on an uncrowded sidewalk???

I asked if she'd tried calling his phone. It turned out they're from out of town, and don't have cell phones. I asked if they were staying with friends; maybe we could try calling them. No, they weren't. She said that it was okay, that she'd find him somehow. She wandered off, looking forlorn.

It was kinda sad, kinda weird.

And very, very random.

The job hunt continues. In the meantime, well, it's getting very . . . Stepford around here. I realized that today, while folding and putting away himself's clothes, which I have done maybe four times in the almost four years that we've been here. It's strange. As much as I love doing "nothing," I can't do nothing forever. It's going to drive me batty.

Don't worry, though. While I finished unpacking and have been tidying and organizing and rearranging, himself still does the cleaning. Let's not get crazy here.

You know what I hate?

Forcing things.

I know, you guys know a lot of things that I hate. But in this instance, I'm talking about doing things that don't come naturally. Not so much dusting or vacuuming (because let's be honest, I do neither of those things), I'm talking schmoozing.

I'm sure I've mentioned it before, but I'm not a schmoozer. I'm not one of those people who are born to be put in an awkward situations and slick their way out of them. I'm not one of those people who can be put into a crowded room and leave that room having a bunch of new friends. On the contrary -- I am one of those people who, when left to her own devices with a bunch of strangers, does her best to a) find the bar, and 2) find a way to lean against the bar just so so as not to appear pariah-like. "I'm not talking to anyone because I don't know anyone here, I just choose not to talk to anyone. It's my choice, you see."

I only bring this up because I was in just such a situation last night, and I imposed it upon myself. You see, in many industries it's not what you know but who you know. Job openings aren't posted anywhere, but John knows Mary who knows Greta who knows Brandon who knows that Hachi is looking for a job. That means it would behoove me to know as many Johns and Marys and Gretas and Brandons and Hachis as possible. So last night I went out to a launch for a new issue of a publication. I figured that it was free, it wasn't that far, I wasn't doing anything, and if I hated it, I could always go home. I didn't bring anyone with me; if my goal was to meet new people, I didn't want to bring someone I knew who I'd be talking to the entire time. And, well, the first half hour was pretty awkward. I even had a drink and wasn't feelin' it. My location was all wrong, and I couldn't get any conversation going. I wanted to go home, I did. But I enjoyed the outfit I had on, so I wanted to get some more mileage out of it. (Nevermind that I wore it to a play Monday night.) So I went back to the bar, relocated myself, scoped out someone else who was alone, and ended up chatting the rest of the night away. I met a handful of new people, contact information was given, and I left feeling pretty darn good about myself. So good, in fact, that I ended up at himself's place of business for a nightcap.

I hate networking and schmoozing. I will never do it willingly. I am jealous of all of you who can do it effortlessly. I hate that it's such a big part of things. But for brief periods of time, I can do it if I have to.

And that, my friends, is called growing.

Hihihihi.

Pardon my disappearance while the unpacking takes place. It's in the last stages, and the space is . . . well, there isn't much. At all. There are a few things that I've learned, though, so I'll share.

1. Baskets are the ultimate ORGANIZING FRIENDS. No, seriously. The linen closet upstairs is FULL OF STUFF. But everything's in a basket! Result? It looks so nice and organized and pretty! Love.

2. Give moving boxes away on freecycle. It saves the hassle of breaking the boxes down for recycling.

3. Getting rid of all the stuff you haven't used in years is very freeing. This is the ultimate in spring cleaning. I mean, we haven't gotten to the actual cleaning part of it, but whatever.

4. If you feel like you're running around in circles (literally), sit down and watch some mindless TV. This is best done late at night with a beverage.

5. If you have a partner/roommate, 'tis best if you each do separate tasks. I'm currently downstairs, himself is currently upstairs. The conversation went something like this: "This is my dance space, this is your dance space."

6. New-to-you furniture is fun!

The unpacking has been somewhat stalled by visits to numerous government offices and le accountant. The to-do list keeps getting longer. If the boxes can just get unpacked, then I can focus. The goal is by the end of the week. We'll seeeeeeee . . .

What do you hate most about packing/unpacking?

Best insult ever:

"Her face looks like a bulldog licking piss off a nettle."*


*All insults courtesy of himself.

We were waiting, you see, for a couple of pieces of paper, allowing our lives to continue. So what did I do during this wait? Well, as you know, I spent a ridiculous amount of time catching up on House Hunters. And then I went to New York.

Despite my complete hatred of that city when I first moved there, I came to love the place. I'm tied to it emotionally because I feel as if I first came to my own in New York; it's where I learned to live by myself and actually started to grow up. Himself asks me all the time, "What's so great about New York? It's expensive, it's a rat race, it's everyone trying to be something they're not." To this I say, "yes and no." (Which, lemme tell you, annoys him to no end.) I love how it's like one massive river coursing through the valley of the northeast, taking along anything that gets caught in its path. Conversely, I love how one can stand on the banks and watch the action if (s)he didn't want to get swept away. I loved knowing that I could stay in my apartment, but if I didn't, there would be a gazillion things to do on any given day. I love how for all its pretentious VIPs, it's also a city of students, and for every overpriced exorbitant restaurant/concert/museum/admission, there is an affordable neighborhood place/free night so that everyone can enjoy the good times. I've come to be a city girl, so I love the energy in many cities, not just New York. New York, however, is somewhat unique in that it is a center for so many industries. It's a center for finance, fashion, visual art, dance, music, film, literature . . . and this brings so many fantastic (and weird) people to the same place. I love that the Wall Street guy and the woman who does nails all day ride in the same subway car to work as the student and the guy who walks dogs. I love that, at any given moment, you're never quite sure who you'll bump into. I love the predictableness, the unpredictableness, the energy, the efficiency, the 24-hour-a-day free delivery. Plus, how can you not love a place with signs like this?



Where was I? Oh. So I returned to New York for the weekend for some catching up time with my bitches. Aaaaaahhhhhhh, I had so much fun. The dance party resulted in sweaty backs and painful feet, as all good dance parties should. And I returned to Maryland to find an envelope waiting, an envelope containing a couple of (very important) pieces of paper. Hot damn.

Now it's moving time. Fo' realz, yo. All of that stuff that I had from my apartment in New York will finally be with me in Canada. And don't even GET ME STARTED on all of the wedding gifts that have been sitting in boxes in the garage down here, sad and unloved. They will be loved!! And you know what? I'm thrilled to be heading back to Toronto. I'm thrilled to be heading back to our neighborhood, where you actually know the owners of all of the stores. I can't wait to be back in a city where biking is the norm, especially in the summer. And the summer! Everyone takes summer by the horns and shakes the shit of it for the often-too-brief appearance it makes. How can you not love a place where everyone has outdoor space -- and it's more than a fire escape? It's a place where work matters, but family matters more. It's a place where the highways are to be avoided at all costs, lest you never make it to your final destination on time. It's the place where I can finally call home, and thank God for that.

So. Wanna help move this week?

Due to the ohsomild winter, the cherry blossoms are blooming early this year. Since the peak bloom dates this year only span a three day period, I got up offa my thang today, went into D.C., and rented a bike (this seems to be my thing here now). This year marks the 100th anniversary of the 3,020 cherry blossom trees that were gifted to D.C. by Tokyo. (Apparently they first sent over 2,000, but they were infested with insects and were burned. Whoops.)

Anyway, they may not be as famous as Japan's cherry blossom trees, but man . . . aren't they pretty?

















While the cherry blossom trees are all over D.C., the most famous area for seeing them is around the Tidal Basin. For those of you not familiar with D.C., it's the body of water right in front of the Jefferson Memorial and now the Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial, and a stone's throw away form the Lincoln Memorial and the Kennedy Center. What's kinda cool is that the trees generally live around 20-25 years (some live much longer of course), but when the trees around the Tidal Basin started to die, splices from the original trees were cultivated and planted, which means that many of the trees still have the same genetic makeup as the ones that were gifted 100 years ago! Isn't that cool?? Well, it's cool to me. In 1965, Tokyo gave D.C. got 3,800 more trees . . . talk about the gift that keeps on giving.

Oh, and in case some of you are pursing your lips and thinking that we take take take and give nothing in return (you know who you are), I'll have you know that we sent them some lovely dogwood trees. So there.