As The Romans Do

Reunion for a Union

2012-01-28T09:49:00.000-06:00

West Coast, East Coast, and Rocky Mountains...my community has traveled from various corners of the States to gather itself here, in Chicago, once again! There's nothing like a wedding to bring people together six months after their volunteer year.

It's surreal seeing everyone in the same room, almost like we didn't spend the last half of 2011 missing each other and wondering when we'd see each other, like we've only been apart for a week. It's also surreal saying "see you tomorrow" and knowing that will actually for real happen.

In a few hours we're headed to Lisle for wedding number one. (Our grand once-a-year-reunion plan: one community member gets married every year. That guarantees us 14 solid years of reunions, right? Well, 13, taking into account current relationships.) I haven't had to dress up for an adult gathering in some time, and we're on the photography list, so I'm glad the models are here in full force to help me out with that situation.

Speaking of which, I promised I would shower today. The things I do for these people.

Testing v Pushing

2012-01-28T09:12:00.000-06:00

Thursday night at yoga, the instructor encouraged us to test our limits, but not push them. He said on a scale of one to ten, one being no feeling and ten being pain, he wanted us hovering right at an eight. This week I've definitely done some testing of myself. I've maybe even gotten into pushing the limits territory.

First, let's applaud the fact that I was fully functioning on my 12th of 12 days straight of work. (Yes, I'm bragging about it.) I'm a little surprised I felt as good as I did Friday morning, but I have been adamant about getting sleep at night, even if it means a little less socializing. It's amazing to me how much more I can accomplish in a day when I've slept the night before. Who knew?

Several things at work have also tested me and my home maintenance abilities. First, I had to change a water filtration system, which required shutting off the valves under the sink. Turns out shutting off the only three valves you see is not enough. You must also shut off the tiny valve way back in the dark where you can barely reach. In fact, that's the most important valve to shut off BEFORE taking the filtration system apart to avoid a steady stream of water pouring forth from a place that's NOT the faucet. I figured that out eventually, but not before pleading with dear sweet Jesus to save me from the Great Flood. I think there might have even been a rainbow when I finally got the filters switched and the puddles dried up.

The next day my challenge was to re-light the pilot light for the water heater. Not a daunting task until you read the instructions and all the warnings that go with it, among them the threat of "Explosion or Loss of Life" if instructions are not followed correctly. I guess it should make me feel confident that my boss trusts me enough to perform such a dangerous task. And really, after following the instructions word for word it was pretty simple.

Friday night's test was to squish two reunions in after work. Miraculously, I got to hang out with high school friends (we calculated & we've officially known each other for ten years, whaaaat?) AND nearly my entire community in the span of three or so hours. What's great about both these groups is when we're together, it's like we haven't even been apart. That's justice.

Mid-Winter Self Care 101

2012-01-22T02:32:00.001-06:00

We're just about to the dead middle of winter (calendar-wise), although I'm not sure if current weather patterns would qualify this season as winter. Last week was chill-to-the-bone cold and Friday saw enough snow to cancel many people's evening activities, but today (Sunday) temperatures are supposed to reach the 40s. If I changed my hair color every time the temperature varied by 30 degrees...no, actually that's a fairly accurate comparison.

I'm also personally at the dead middle of my 12-day work week, having picked up two extra weekend shifts in Mercy. I'm predicting some regret as I get into next week, but if someone's going to make the extra dinero might as well be me, right?

A person doesn't survive winter or crazy work schedules without a heaping dose of self-care, and luckily I have plenty of experience there. Let me break it down for you:

Fine Dining & Libations
Easily the easiest of self-care options. Eat some (comfort) food, drink some (alcoholic) beverages and before you know it, you'll be feeling better. I'm clearly not a doctor or a nutritionist, but I'm sure they would tell you moderation is key. My only advice is Know Thyself. Personally, I can put away far more food than I can drink before experiencing adverse effects, so that's usually what I lean on in times of stress. They don't call me a Blue Ribbon Eater for nothing. (Dear Fairly Quick Metabolism, Please never ever leave me. Love, Rachel)

Physical Activity/Exercise/That Thing Other People Do
It's no secret that I am not a sporty or even physical person. I can barely walk around my apartment without adding to the many mystery bruises on my legs (Seriously, do elves move our furniture when we sleep?), so any activity requiring coordination and balance is out. For a lightning speed minute this fall I was able to run without too much pain (unemployment makes you do CRAZY things), but only if I kept them to three miles at a nearly 10-minute mile pace once or twice a week. Any longer/faster/more frequent and my rib cartilage starts complaining.

The activity I can/will/want to do is yoga, preferably in a heated (95 degree) room. You see, I like stretching. And if the required stretch is a bit much, no one will judge you for adjusting it to your level. (Okay, the super yoga heads might judge you, but they're judging everyone who is not them and ergo not really getting the point of yoga in the first place, now are they?) And the heat? I have no idea why I like that. I've been known to throw temper tantrums just because I'm a little warm, stomping around and throwing off my clothes like a menopausal toddler. For some reason it's different in a yoga studio--I don't know if it really does "cleanse toxins" or if it allows me to stretch a bit further or if it's just a feeling of accomplishment because I actually sweat, but hot yoga works.

Self-Reflection or My Natural State
The biggest sell for yoga is how naturally self-reflection goes with the physical movements. If you know me at all, and I mean this in the loosest way possible, like even the guy I sat across from on the train would get this, you know I am an internal processing monster. I don't always say a lot, especially in large groups, but let me tell you the constant monologue in my head can be engaging enough. I have two journals, this blog, plus all the reflective thoughts running through my mind at any given moment. I know I sometimes wear a blank stare/hover at the point of drooling on myself, but that usually means I'm super deep in a very abstract thought. After a stressful day or if I'm feeling a little crabby (or if I'm told that I am in fact a LOT crabby), journaling, pondering, & spacing out in general all help.

Books, Movies, Music, Interesting Tweets, Organizing my Sock Drawer
Pretty much anything that will take my mind off the fact that I work in five hours...damn I really do. Let me finish this quick so I can maybe get three hours of sleep: anything that makes me laugh or cry or is so engrossing I forget about everything else around me and commit fully to the present moment. I'm pretty big on work/home boundaries, aka I love leaving work at work and completely cutting off work thoughts until I'm there again. Sometimes this is difficult, and an escape helps. It can be a book or movie that takes me to another place/time/world or a song that begs to be played loudly so I literally have no room in my head for thoughts. It's tuning out, but also tuning in to something else for a bit. Ideally this escape is intentional, but every now and then trashy TV is just what the self-care guru ordered.

Why I Am Currently Turned On By The Lost Generation

2012-01-18T00:39:00.001-06:00

"Why not live in Paris, write poetry, paint pictures, fall in love, shoot for the Great American Novel? Why not live fully and aim for an impossible goal? And if the goal wasn't achieved, well, perhaps it had been enough merely to be there, freely spending youth and stockpiling memories.

Harold Stearns, who wasted his youth in Paris as scandalously as anyone, summed it up best: 'It was a useless, silly life," he wrote many years later, 'and I have missed it every day since.'"

[from Found Meals of the Lost Generation: Recipes and Anecdotes from 1920s Paris by Suzanne Rodriquez-Hunter]

Not that I don't live a silly life now...I have a standing bet with my roommates that the first one of us to slip outside on the snow/ice owes the rest of us ice cream. And I came about ------- that close to falling flat on my butt today. Close but no ice cream.

NoWhere/NowHere

2012-01-15T15:12:00.000-06:00

After a string of delayed buses, inconsistent bus tracker times, and consistent bogus route placements, I decided to end my five month relationship with the 49/Western bus. I considered breaking things off for some time; walking 1.5 miles and waiting 40 minutes in the freezing snow to find a working bus the other night forced the issue.

We had some good times, but these past few weeks we've only rehashed the same old fight. Nothing gets resolved and nothing changes. I let the 49 know I thought it was time I saw other public transportation routes. My new commute does include a bus transfer, so I'm splitting my time between two routes, but there is far less walking. So far so good.

The night of the break-up, during which I began to tear up until I remembered it was below freezing out, I went to my new yoga class. Yoga classes have a lot of catchphrases (technically I guess they'd be mantras, but if the teacher isn't genuine you can totally tell s/he learned this phrase during training) and in this particular yoga studio, theirs is "There's nowhere to go here. Nowhere to be." They mean it physically--if you're in the class, presumably you have no other obligations or places to go--but there's also a spiritual/emotional side to this mantra. We should be with our bodies where they are at, being present and intentional in the moment instead of letting our minds rush around with rambling thoughts.

I've been thinking about that whenever I go somewhere now. True, if I'm headed to work, there really is somewhere to go, somewhere to be. Other times I'm impatient for the sake of impatience--I'm just antsy, thinking if I keep moving I'm being productive. I need to remember in those times to bring my intentional presence to the spaces I enter. (MercyWorks, Always Has)

Getting Found in the Lost Generation

2012-01-14T13:59:00.000-06:00

It doesn't matter that I'm a sophomore of real life (it's my second year out of college, what?!!?), I still read like I'm a sophomore in college (English 305, whattup!). I read one good book and become obsessed with a certain time period/literary style. In Rome it was ancient Roman history, senior year it was the Beat Generation, last year it was Chicago fiction. And now? A recent reading of The Paris Wife by Paula McLain has turned me on to the Lost Generation. (Also just watched Midnight in Paris. A fun movie, mostly because I had just finished The Paris Wife.)

I used to automatically discount Hemingway as an alcoholic womanizer, but couldn't deny enjoying his work. After reading the (fictional) account of his time in Paris with his first wife along with several other (nonfiction) biographies and reader companions, I have far less harsh judgment for him. And I've started a quest to read up on him & his contemporaries.

What is perhaps most interesting about my literary choices are how they coincide with my personal life. Each genre/writing style/choice of topic somehow paralleled whatever was happening in my immediate world. Or I'm just super awesome at reading into things to make it seem like it relates. Either way, it makes for intriguing & many times writing-inspiring reads. Did I just foreshadow more stories/poems? Maybe.

Job Security: Laundry & Dishes are Never-ending

2012-01-07T15:28:00.000-06:00

You know the feeling of getting home from work and not wanting to do anymore work? Say you're a chef, after you close up your restaurant, do you want to go home and cook more? I'm going to bet you're tired of chopping and sauteing. Same goes for house management--after a day of laundry, cleaning, and making dinner I rarely want to do the same for myself at home.

Which is probably why it took our apartment about a week to fully recover from our New Year's Eve party. We cleaned a bunch last weekend, but for some reason our dishes stayed, stacked precariously at the edge of the sink. Sure, I'd wash a handful here and there when I needed a plate or bowl to eat dinner, and Brit would later put the clean dishes away in the cupboard, but this entire week we struggled to get all of them washed, dried, and put away in one go.

Until last night. We powered right through those dishes. Or rather, Brit powered through them while I made us a giant pan of veggies and beans and cheese, our ultimate comfort meal.

Besides apartment chores, I've also had several errands to run--library, post office, pharmacy--and I finally got to those today too. Based on my going rate, I could have paid someone about $40 to do all my personal chores for me, but since winter seems to be officially over (50 degrees in January, hello global warming!) I didn't mind the long walk I got this morning.

And now I don't feel so guilty curling up on the couch for a little playoff-watching nap.

Nothing's Ever Promised Tomorrow, Today

2011-12-30T18:54:00.000-06:00

In the past two weeks I haven't crafted, cooked, read, or written anything worth posting about. It's as simple as that.

I watched Super 8, ate pizza in Madison, and enjoyed Christmas at home with both sides of the family. Unlike Chicagoans, I had a White Christmas, and also unlike Chicagoans, my home team is definitively in the playoffs. You can expect that I'll be wearing my new Matthews jersey for all forthcoming games, as well as for days when I play DMB on repeat.

Lately, though, I've been listening to Kanye West on repeat. Only his Late Registration album, in which he references Chicago more than a few times. It's my friend's favorite Kanye album & includes a song capable of making me sob every time I listen to it.

Anatomy of a Shopping Cart

2011-12-15T11:13:00.006-06:00

One of my responsibilities as house manager is household grocery & supply shopping, as well as shopping for anything else the family needs in a given week. Besides getting me out of the house and allowing me to drive around the city (which, despite how most people feel about city driving, I usually enjoy), shopping also exposes me to a great amount of stores and their shopping carts.

I think most of you know how I feel about shopping carts (buggies, trolleys, carriages...whatever you want to call them)... I love them. I have one on my porch and he is currently all decked out for Christmas. Shopping carts have personality and soul, and they symbolize many things to many people. (Can I say that? I have no evidence to back any of that up. Maybe you guys could just let me know what shopping carts mean to you, if anything?)

The biggest thing I've learned: not only are all stores not created equally, neither are their respective shopping carts. I've split carts into four basic categories, and each one says something about the stores they are employed by.

Classic Cart
Stores: Jewel-Osco...and essentially every average grocery store in the nation

This is your basic design, steel frame shopping cart. It's efficient, fairly light, and doesn't pretend to be something it's not. Get something caught in one of it's front wheels and say goodbye to turning, but generally, this cart gets the job done.

PlaySkool/Fisher Price Cart
Store: Target

You know what I'm talking about, those over-sized plastic red carts. According to wikipedia (see, I did some research), "Target's new cart, made of recycled plastic, is an evolutionary step forward. The cart has won design awards for its improved casters, interchangeable plastic parts to simplify repairs and handles that allow a user to more easily maneuver it around the retail area." I appreciate the recycled part. As for ease of maneuvering, HA! They are so big and bulky, I tend to forgo the cart in lieu of the basket. Don't even try to get those things in the clothing department aisles. Without fail, you will knock several sweaters off the racks and/or become involved in a cart jam near the dressing rooms.

Quarter Cart
Stores: Aldi, Costco

These carts are a variation of the Classic Cart in that they are a Classic Cart, you just have to part with a quarter for the duration of your shopping trip to gain access to it. Some people don't like this system, but I think it's rather ingenious. First: it deters shopping cart theft. Not that a quarter will really stand in the way of someone who really wants to steal a cart, but there are less wandering carts and, therefore, opportune moments to grab one and go. Second: it saves on having to hire someone just to round up carts in the parking lot. Gotta appreciate a store putting the consumer to work, all for a quarter that was already theirs.

Baby Cart
Stores: Dominick's, Whole Foods

The mini-version of the Classic Cart, and perhaps my favorite of all carts, the Baby Cart features an upper and lower basket, so you really don't lose a lot of loading capacity. What you gain is increased maneuverability and the ability to fit into cramped or crowded aisles, at Whole Foods specifically. Whole Foods also offers the Classic Cart, but with the way the store is set up and the diminutive size of the aisles, you have got to be a special brand of jerk to use it. Even if every customer uses the Baby Cart, two people in one aisle is a bit much. I'm not a huge fan of Whole Foods specifically for their idiotic layout and cramped area, but I have to go there for work...and I do appreciate the free samples.

All I have to say in conclusion is I'm glad my blogs are so relevant and practical.

In the Kitchen with an Amateur Housewife

2011-12-13T21:10:00.000-06:00

Before I sit back comfortably in the saddle of my high horse, let me explain something: I am NOT June Cleaver. I get paid to act June Cleavery, but there are levels of housewife I'm no where near. As I rode the bus home tonight, smelling like maple syrup, lemon, & garlic (can't decide if that's appetizing or not), I read Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. In this section of the book, the author and her family make their own cheese. This is met with several comments by others, such as: "You make cheese yourself. You are a real housewife." Now, I may claim to be a Real Housewife of Chicago, but I ain't separating the curds from the whey or anything.

Instead, I am humbly preparing these recipes:

Maple Nut Granola

4 1/2 c rolled oats
1/2 c sliced almonds
1/2 c chopped pecans or walnuts
1/2 c shelled pumpkin seeds
1 tbsp coarse salt
1/2 c unsalted butter
1/2 c brown sugar
1/2 c maple syrup
3 tbsp water

Combine dry ingredients in a bowl. Make a well in the middle.
Boil butter, sugar, syrup and water (until just bubbling).
Pour into dry ingredients, mix well.
Divide between two baking sheets lined with wax paper.
Bake at 300 degrees for 35 minutes, stir after 20 minutes.

Broccoli Frittata

1 c broccoli, cut into flowerets
1 tsp olive oil
2 slices of lean bacon, trimmed of fat and chopped
1 clove garlic, chopped
1 small onion, diced
1 tomato, chopped
6 eggs
lots of cheese, shredded
salt and pepper to taste

Heat oil in large frying pan (a cast-iron or ovenproof one is good).
Cook onion over medium heat for 2 minutes, add garlic and bacon and cook until onion is soft.
Add broccoli and tomato, cook for one minute.
Add salt and pepper to taste.
Beat eggs in bowl, add cheese, pour over other ingredients in pan.
Cook gently without stirring until base of frittata is cooked and golden.
Place pan in oven on broil until top is golden brown and firm.
Cut into wedges and serve.

Disclaimer: haven't actually eaten either of these. Still have my job, though, so I think that means they're edible.

June Cleaver

2011-12-11T14:35:00.000-06:00

I am currently reading Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver (author of The Poisonwood Bible, highly recommended!) and just came across this:

Most of us, male or female, work at full-time jobs that seem organized around a presumption that some wifely person is at home picking up the slack--filling the gap between school and workday's end, doing errands only possible during business hours, meeting the expectation that we are hungry when we get home--but in face June Cleaver has left the premises.

This passage is in a chapter about the importance of buying locally grown, in-season food as opposed to factory farmed plants and animals, and from that, the importance of cooking meals at home out of local produce and livestock, even if we feel we have no time.

What I found intriguing was that I work a full-time job in which this presumption is a reality. I am June Cleaver.

My Week in Numbers

2011-12-10T16:57:00.000-06:00

5 days in a row a fire truck crossed my path
2 times I coincidentally followed the fire trucks to the fire
4 home-cooked meals
7 turkey burgers you can get from 1.5 pounds of ground turkey
0 times I have ever considered eating a turkey burger in my life
20 minutes to broil lemon pepper salmon from frozen
0 times I have enjoyed the smell of salmon
4 Meatless Mondays my teenagers will be forced to observe each month as a result of me cooking
11 loads of laundry
0 pieces of clothing my 14-yr old put away in her closet
9 light bulbs changed
1 storm door handle installed
2 redeye crosswords partially completed, a Tuesday and a Friday
10 grocery store trips
7 grocery stores
3 Trader Joe's before I found limited edition Candy Cane Joe Joe's required for winter survival by my boss
6 boxes of Candy Cane Joe Joe's purchased
30 minutes waiting for the Damen bus
30 degrees Fahrenheit while waiting for the Damen bus
30 approximate layers of clothing I've grown accustomed to wearing on any given day
20-19 the score of the game my 12-yr. old & I play, where the object is to flick a playing card into a basket

Dear Poetry

2011-12-03T00:09:00.000-06:00

I think about you a lot, and I'm sorry I haven't taken the time to write you down lately. Sometimes I trick myself into believing it's more poetic to keep you in my head, drafting and revising from there, but then a few days go by and I forget your intricacies. You do tend to show up at inopportune moments, though: as I fall asleep, while I drive in rush hour traffic, in the checkout line at the grocery store...so maybe we're both at fault here. Regardless, I promise to do something with you tomorrow, just you and me. And maybe coffee.

Sincerely,

Rachel

I live in Chicago.

2011-12-01T22:27:00.000-06:00

Sometimes I forget, so I'm glad when things like the CTA make me remember this fact.

My Week in Chicago Neighborhoods

2011-11-30T01:01:00.000-06:00

Just a brief list of the neighborhoods I've traveled through/ran errands in/chauffeured teenagers around so far this week:

Humboldt Park
Logan Square
Bucktown
Roscoe Village
Lake View
West Lake View
Lake View East
Lincoln Park
Old Town
Gold Coast
North Center
Avondale
Industrial Corridor
Streeterville
River North
Near North
Cabrini Green
Lathrop
De Paul
Magnificent Mile

It's only Tuesday. Good thing the Subaru has heated seats.

Projects

2011-11-26T12:53:00.000-06:00

It took me approximately four hours to read A.J. Jacobs' third book, The Guinea Pig Diaries: My Life as an Experiment. In it, he describes several month-long challenges he takes part in, and their consequent results. I feel a strange connection to this man and his projects (see here, here, and here, plus posts from April & May of 2011).

For me, challenges like refraining from a certain type of food or doing a certain activity every day give me something to focus on. It's a boost when I manage to complete a challenge, it's something to blog about, and I believe total immersion in something is a great way to learn about it. There was a time when I exclusively read books about people's year-long projects, most of them related to environmentalism or the ethical consumption of food.

And now I get to be a part of someone else's project, which of course I'm all about. The Disposable Film Project is in its early stages right now. I know this because I am the first person with one of the disposable cameras, and I have yet to send it to the next DFPer, the unsinkable Stephanie Salinis. (Note to Lara: wanted to wait until I dyed my hair before starting...the dirty dishwater blonde was not about to be immortalized for this.)

Today I am taking picture number 2 for the project, one of my city/neighborhood. I know a certain image comes to mind when one thinks of Chicago, but I don't live in the Loop, the Gold Coast, or at Wrigley. Shoot, I don't even live at Mercy Home anymore. No worries, the Logan Square/Humboldt Park/Bucktown/Wicker Park neighborhood has plenty of photo-ops: just the other day the traveling circus next door practiced juggling bowling pins.

I am a Hired Housewife

2011-11-21T11:07:00.001-06:00

I rearranged my room again. Third time in three months. This time it even involved me pulling out the screwdriver and dismantling my tacky closet door. I'm not completely satisfied with the current arrangement, so I'm sure by December I'll have it switched around. Who knew this little cube of a room could accommodate so many arrangements?

Other life changes: I dyed my hair. With the help of Becca, I am no longer a blonde/dirty blonde/dull brunette. The technical term for my current hair color is Cinnamon Stick. I guess that's a fancy way of saying auburn? Warm brown? It's been three years since I've dyed it, and when I told Mom my plan she replied, "I guess that's okay for you to do." Moms. Always thinking they're in charge.

I have one week of my shiny new job under my belt, and so far so good. It's hard to describe--part maid, part nanny, part personal assistant is about as close as I can get. I'm essentially a housewife, except for the part where the children are not my children and I'm not married to their actual mother...and I don't live at the house. But in all other respects: she goes out and makes the big bucks while I stay home, take care of things there, drive the kids around, and make sure they eat their vegetables and do their homework.

I spend most of my evenings with the 12-yr old, and so far I have found out that he loves Crazy 8's and board games. He is also very honest about his homework. They have the teacher's edition of his math book and he made me read the questions out loud to him so he didn't look in the book and see the answers. What a gem! When I pick him up from school, I always make sure to have that day's redeye with me & we do the crossword puzzle together on the way back home.

The 14-yr old, who "doesn't need a babysitter," spends most of her time in her room "face chatting" (her brother's words) with her friends. I think I'm starting to win her over, though, since I fixed the zipper on her North Face the other night.

Eleven Eleven

2011-11-12T13:11:00.001-06:00

Besides witnessing hipsters cheering for a full minute and snapping iPhone pictures of the date/time clock on the bus yesterday at 11:11 PM, nothing else really marked the day. Throughout the entire month of November, though, I've had several special moments that endear me to November. A few posts ago, I expressed a hope that November would be my month. Here are several reasons why so far it is:

Employment: You already know about this. I start on Monday! A lot of people have asked me what "house manager" means, and I honestly have no idea. I researched it and found this: "The titles of Butler and House Manager (HM) are often interchangeable and can have the most varied meanings in the business." So there you go.

Working Laptop: Sometime during October (a month that, when placed next to November, as it always is, pales) my laptop screen decided to take a little break. I strained to see anything until I unplugged the power cord. For some mysterious reason, the screen would only stay at full brightness when running on battery power. This meant I had about 1.5 hours to use my laptop before the screen really went dark. Unless I was on more than one website, playing music, or watching a video, then I had about 40 minutes. It was rough. About a week ago, though, the good old HP healed itself. I have no idea why it works again except that it is November and the universe has decided to smile on me.

First Snow: Doesn't matter if I don't want snow just yet, or if it was pitiful flakes that melted as soon as they hit the ground, for a Wisconsinite the first snow is always magical.

Television: This is a tricky one. After several furniture rearrangements ending with everything in the same place it started in, my roommates, Brit's mom, Adam, and I set up our television in the previously empty corner of our living room. After we scanned for channels and Judge Judy showed up on the screen, we let out a sigh of relief, but also one of knowing we were no longer the people without a TV. Not having a TV used to be our thing. It was something visitors always commented on as we sat on the couches and--God forbid--actually had a conversation. Now we are have nothing to set us apart from our crazy neighbors. On the other hand, we can now watch football in sweatpants on Sundays.

Visiting Sisters: Surprise! Bailey is coming to visit me today. It was a last minute thing, but I can only guess the month of November had something to do with it.

Now if only there was a day in November when it would be appropriate for me to express my gratitude for these things by eating far too much and falling asleep on a couch somewhere.

Much Success!

2011-11-05T14:10:00.000-05:00

After filling out and submitting 48 applications and having 21 phone or in-person interviews over the course of four months, I was recently hired as a nanny/house manager for a family near me, which means I am in the process of transitioning from "funemployed" to "fun employed."

The mother of the family emailed me to let me know. Before telling anyone, I closed my gmail and opened it again to check that the email was still there. I read it several times to make sure I was reading right and that she was actually hiring me. After receiving only rejections, you start to assume all communication is going to be rejection. But no, the family really did want me. I did a victory dance in the living room, then ran and launched myself onto Brit, still asleep in bed, to tell her the good news.

I've been metaphorically patting myself on the back, but with some apprehension. I don't want to celebrate too much, just in case I wake up one day and find out it isn't real. I've gotten so used to not getting jobs it's weird to know I now have one. Here are some other things I've realized during my Funemployment:

A generic rejection letter, though less awkward, is more dehumanizing than a personal rejection call.
Though you generally have more time on your hands, you somehow don't get any more done in a day.
You plan your life week-by-week, sometimes day-by-day, because thinking long term is depressing, and besides, that's how part-time support work is scheduled.
You get roped into a lot of things because "you're not doing anything, right?"
Job searching is a full-time job with no dress codes or weekly staff meetings.
It's annoying to hear any complaints from the gainfully employed.
Despite not wanting to hear those complaints, they do remind you that work isn't life.
As desperate as I sometimes felt, it was never really that awful and there were still things I was not about to do.
Community was a lifesaver. I don't know how I would have survived without a group of cheerleaders, meal-sharers, snuggle buddies, Twitter followers, and gentle friends to encourage me, send me job postings, help me write cover letters, and love me up when I was feeling unmotivated.
Even though it was a stressful, frustrating period of my life, Funemployment gave me a lot of writing material and could be a very funny topic in conversation.

I know my period of funemployment was not as long or as intense as it is for many others--I was technically working, albeit sporadically, so while I wasn't working I tried not to be super dramatic about it. Now that I have regular employment, though, I'm feeling pretty damn good. Not just in the Paying Bills and Productive Citizen categories of life, either. This is a boost in the Self Esteem, No Shame in Not Doing Job-Related Things, and General Purpose for Life categories as well.

And now I get to do all those things people say they'll do once they find jobs...you know, like get a tattoo, buy something outrageous, dye their hair, go to Spain for a week...people do those things, right?

Hydration: My Night in Three Drinks

2011-11-01T04:15:00.001-05:00

I wrote most of this in the very early hours of the morning yesterday during my overnight shift...then I revised it during the very early hours of the morning today during an overnight shift. Overnights are weird. I can do a lot of things, but then the sleep deprivation starts to make me a little loony.

I. Cherry Coke: 10 pm - 3 am

Right now I just need a boost of energy. Not that working the overnight requires energy, but I do need to stay awake for the next ten hours. Youth are in bed, almost asleep, and after working a regular shift I'm tired too.

This overnight was a surprise; I turned down two other programs' offers for overnights, unsure if working a double the day before an interview was the best decision, but when upper management calls you to fill in, you say yes. The universe must not want me to sleep tonight. In between room checks I browse the web, text with friends who are still up, and read a funny novel that's been on my to-read list for years.

As soon as the caffeine from this soda hits, I ride it out for the rest of the night. The carbonation fizzes in my mouth and up my nose and I remember I have a dentist appointment in the morning. Oh well. I also have an electric bill due in a few days. Working 18 hours straight seems like an awesome decision when there are no other employment offers on the horizon, even if you have three interviews scheduled that week.

II. Arizona Green Tea with Honey & Ginseng: 3 am - 7 am

It's just me now. Youth are fast asleep and past needing water or bathroom trips. Friends are also asleep, even the night owls. Now are the hours I need to stay awake. More caffeine would just bring jitters, a sugary drink would make my stomach hurt. Arizona has just enough sweetness and minimal fizz. It's a quieter drink for quieter hours.

I finished my book--as expected the plucky heroine gets the reclusive, recovering alcoholic, singer-songwriter. My eyes begin to tire; I can't look at a computer or a book right now. The TV goes on. I start to wonder about elderly women in household cleaner commercials. Do they have husbands and children? Is there a kid out there whose grandma is the Swiffer woman? Watching the news this early reminds me of getting ready for school when I was younger. Mom would watch in her room while she got ready for work. I'd come up to borrow her hair dryer or some lotion, or to crawl into my parents' unmade bed and avoid getting ready for the day.

Now is the dead of night--the absolute dark before the dawn--the time I get super poetic and think of blog posts like this. Drinking iced tea somehow helps my dry eyes and sore body, gross from work. Sweaty teenagers felt the need to hug me, shake my hand, or touch my hair after they had been in the gym. News gets boring. I channel flip until I find a classic sitcom. At this point, I'm just waiting for the sun to rise. That part of the overnight never gets old.

III. Naked Green Machine Fruit Juice: 7 am - 11 am

The boys are up now. They shower, get dressed, iron clothes, and try to sneak in some extra sleep on the couch. Day staff starts arriving. I see them park in the lot, dressed in business casual, coffees in hand. I'm still in my t-shirt and jeans. I eat some fruit and drink this super fruit juice between giving wake up calls and making sure everyone is out of bed.

The human body is not supposed to stay awake for this long, and it's definitely screaming at me for not letting it sleep. I know there are no magic foods, but drinking a fruit juice with tons of vitamins seems to make up for the torture I'm putting myself through. It can't hurt, and at the very least it's damage control.

Once all the boys leave for school, I can peace out. Usually I'd go home, shower, and crash, but today I shower and leave again. I get back on the blue line for my dentist appointment, then head to a nanny interview. I finish my drink on the way. The thing about overnights is it's not just your sleep schedule that gets messed up. Eating helps me stay awake. After ten hours of grazing on trail mix, popcorn, and fruit, this drink feels like a meal.

After the interview I can go home and sleep for several hours. Then it's back here for round two. Someday I will have a normal person schedule and my body won't hate me. Maybe November's my month.

Dairy Fast

2011-10-30T11:54:00.000-05:00

Sometimes you just need a challenge. Not eating meat (or eating only ethical meat) isn't so challenging to me anymore, especially since we don't buy meat for our apartment. Two years ago I did a sugar fast right before Halloween, but we don't buy a lot of sweet things either. What I want to do is a dairy fast. I know. Blasphemous. How dare I claim to be from Wisconsin and want to give up dairy products for 10 days.

I tried starting this on Friday, and here is a list of ways I've already cheated:
-ranch dressing
-cheese pizza
-chocolate chip cookies
-a lot of cheese pizza

It's a lot more difficult than one would think. Milk is in everything, not just your average dairy products. But all the research I did on giving up or limiting dairy said it would be worth it. So I'm starting over today. I already don't drink milk, substituting it with almond milk. Now I just need to commit to resisting the temptation of all the cheese in my fridge. :( If I make it through these 10 days, I might go crazy on day 11.

Halloween: Meh

2011-10-28T01:38:00.000-05:00

We got a Halloween costume flyer in the mail a few weeks ago and I was not surprised to find that, as a woman, my choices were limited to whatever sexy object I wanted to be. This trend (which merely requires that girls wear beachwear and heels and come up with a creative/alliterative label like Naughty Nurse, Sexy Sailor, or Foxy Firefighter) is not new or strange to me. It's still a little upsetting and I understand why people hate it, but honestly, I'm over it. Getting my undies in a bundle over what girls wear on Halloween feels a little cliche at this point. We get it; it's sexist. Here's a redeye article that discusses it further, and this Jenna Marbles video makes a good point as well.

Even though I'm not in the mood to get on my soapbox about holiday gender stereotypes, I'm still not crazy about Halloween itself. I've thought this through, and it really has little to offer me. You don't get the day off from school or work, there's no giant meal involved, you only technically celebrate for three hours, and the celebration requires you to do most of the work. Plus, if you live in Wisconsin, you have to wear a winter coat over your costume.

As an adult-type person, I feel like I'm supposed to enjoy Halloween even more than a child, because even though many adults don't go trick-or-treating, they still get to have parties and dress up. Here's the thing: I don't see how that's any different than any other weekend in an adult's life. I could host or attend a themed party every day if I really wanted to. As for the trick-or-treating, I can eat candy whenever I crave it. And if Halloween is really about letting your freak flag fly, well then let's be honest: I never take mine down. If I want to dress up, I kind of just do. All jokes aside, I'm a grown woman. As long as I'm paying my bills and not hurting people or evading taxes, I can do whatever I want.

Except eat with chopsticks. Can't figure those things out for the life of me.

As the Bed Turns

2011-10-21T01:32:00.000-05:00

Well folks, I made it almost two months. Tonight was my breaking point: I'm back on the wagon. (Off the wagon? Whatever.) I rearranged my room tonight. Something stirred in me and I realized I couldn't do anything other than clear out the old 8 by 8 and, well, rotate my bed 90 degrees. Because that's really the only rearranging I can do up in hurr.

Check it out:

Before...don't mind the clean sheets...

Afterish

Yep. That's Jessica's blanket. Stole it from Club MW.

The best part so far of this new arrangement: optimal viewing of our hoarding neighbor. Seriously, I can see right down into her apartment. Confession: the other night I watched her watch TV and eat cereal straight from the box while I ate a bagel and sat on the edge of Britney's bed. Who's more pathetic? I'll let you decide.

Never: Hyperbolic Marketing

2011-10-13T05:01:00.001-05:00

I feel out of the loop when it comes to new songs now that I'm not spending most of my time with teenagers. The only time I listen to the radio these days is when I shower. I realize for many that means daily, but if you know me, you know that isn't my reality.

As I showered & listened the other day, two commercials struck me. The first was for North Face and encouraged me to "Never Stop Exploring." A few seconds later, Lowe's implored me to "Never Stop Improving." [Remember when Lowe's was "Improving Home Improvement"? Now the focus is on the customer. Clever.] Both ads reminded me of Ray Ban's "Never Hide" slogan.

What do these ads say about our culture & society? Americans are traditionally socialized to embrace rugged individualism & continual advancement--more money, things, education, success, power--and these three companies have definitely embraced that. I personally appreciate all three ideas, though I think there comes a time we should ease up on exploring and improving to enjoy what's here and now. I'm sure there are times we should definitely hide as well. Like during Hide-n-Seek or Sardines. I also don't need expensive outerwear, construction supplies, or sunglasses to follow through with these three ideas.

Okay, the sunglasses might help. I always thought it was funny (funny-weird, not funny-ha ha) how some people use sunglasses to stand out, while others use them to blend in. Ray Ban is clearly in the stand out camp. No evading the cops or paparazzi allowed. Nevermind their actual use, to Ban the Rays of the sun.

It's nearly 5 am, and time for another room check here at work. I'm doing the overnight, which means checks every half hour along with late night TV. And you all know what that means: infomercials. Do you have a frying pan that can be used as a hammer in emergency situations? I know I don't, but for a few simple payments I can have one shipped to my door. Now that's Amurrrica at it's finest.

Happy Mad Hatter Day!

2011-10-06T14:22:00.000-05:00

Remember the Mad Hatter from Alice in Wonderland? His hat had a slip of paper reading "10/6" ... and thus, October 6th is now celebrated as Mad Hatter Day. A day similar to April Fools' Day, but more for celebrating/noting silliness.

Silliness of course being the very things our society regards as "normal," but are in actuality completely mad:

--bottled water
--gym memberships
--vitamin supplements
--frozen meals
--cartoon characters not wearing pants
--working more to afford things you don't need and can't enjoy anyway because you are always working
--why doesn't Tarzan have a beard?
--shoes
--shoes designed to feel like you are not wearing shoes
--Crocs
--lotion
--swimming pools
--arm rests at movie theaters
--fancy ketchup
--the Easter bunny
--Donkey Kong
--the phrase "head over heels"
--child pageants
--plastic utensils
--Spam
--placemats
--sweater vests
--GoGurt
--country music

The list goes on. Let me know what other strange things we have been socialized to believe are normal!