Found a temporary apartment in Chicago fully furnished that is available to move in on Monday. Staying with friends in Chicago until then.

This week has been spent applying for jobs – Talent News Booker for Oprah, Executive Assistant for 37signals, Casting Associate for casting offices, Associate Producer for a morning breakfast news program, Administrative Associate for University of Chicago.

Why the heck would a lady want to lunch where there are so many exciting job opportunities?

I’m stretching my limits, applying for things supposedly out of my experience level, but I have nothing to lose.

Why not? Why not apply for something that I know I can succeed at, have passion for and make good money while doing it? Worse they can say is no, right? Best that I can do is live up to the challenge and learn something.

Like when I wrote my novel, like when I fell in love with a man across the world, like when I applied for school at USC and Baltimore School for the Arts. Challenge myself, apply myself diligently, not have any expectations and the only thing that can come from it is that I’m no worse off than before I tried for it.

And the best? Is that I get what I want.

So Friday we will be in a new city: Chicago. Monday we will be in a new apartment. And hopefully by this time next week I will be in a new job.

You hear me, Oprah?

By the way, let me know what you think about the new blog and website layout. I’m still torn, but the old blog theme had to go. It was causing so many problems.

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I’m going to do this in a different way. I turned 28 last week and so I’ve been thinking a lot about where I was a decade ago. Ten years, an even number easily able to identify with. So, here goes:

Dear 18 year old self,

I know you think that being in a big city is the only possible place for a rising star like you, but what about being a big fish in a small pond for a bit? While you’re growing and learning and vulnerable – hold on, let me preface that with the fact that you are still a tough cookie who can handle her own in every situation, I know that’s how you like to think of yourself – but you will be faced with some tough situations in Los Angeles that you might not be as ready for as you think you are.

It’s too late, right? You’re already on your flight to LA to embark on an adventure that will change you forever, that will harden your heart for a few years. You’ve already turned down your scholarships to the University of Alabama and Cornell and University of Maryland where you could have gone for free. So, let’s go from there.

Baltimore School for the Arts was the best and worst thing that ever happened to you. It nurtured you and let you develop your emotions in a way that most kids never have the chance to do. It gave you friendships that will still be going strong in a decade from now and it gave you an insight into the human mind that will never leave you. However, it didn’t prepare you for the racism, hate and negativity that is in the world. You were in a cocoon of love – that was wonderful, but not the harsh reality.

USC will introduce you to this world. You will hear racist comments from rich kids who never experienced life in an inner city and are paying full price for this $40,000 a year school, and this 28 year old self is still proud of you for standing up for what you believed in, for never standing down when people would laugh at you or not want to invite you to parties – one thing to remember, there are moments when walking away is just as poignant as standing in the middle.

You think you already know all this. You think that you can handle anything. And you will and you will come out stronger than ever, but not for many, many years. You will be confused and dazed with life.

You need your mother more than you are willing to accept. The reason you are so angry with her right now is because you are so scared to live without her, 3,000 miles away.

Don’t avoid your problems. They’re not as scary as they seem.

Don’t work so hard. Don’t party so hard. Breathe a little.

Fame isn’t everything. In ten years, the pursuit of fame will be a shadow that still follows you but that you realize doesn’t mean anything. Success is not fame. I can try to tell you that in this letter and if you read this, you’ll scoff and say that you’re not interested in pursuing fame, but you’re not fooling anyone. We all know you are. Pursue relationships, friendship and moments. Keep all those journals – you’ll be surprised how much your 28 year old self will look and read those, trying to figure out what was going on in that teenage mind of yours and realizing that you had more depth than you believed yourself to have.

Be suspicious of men. Way more suspicious than you are now. Many of them are pigs and when the time comes to meet the man of your dreams, it will happen in the most random place – like on a road trip with your best friend to Las Vegas and then you’ll be the most suspicious you’ve ever been – and that’s a GOOD thing. You have way more to give than you realize. But you can’t meet him until you love yourself. Take your time doing this.

Right now you are probably getting ready for a party, auditioning for a play or calling Jessica or Courtney. At 28, I am still partying, no longer auditioning (but will be in Chicago, just for the love of it rather than seeking something that doesn’t exist) and still calling Jessica and Courtney.

You’ll be amazed at how much you will have accomplished in 10 years, but it might be hard to realize that you haven’t accomplished anything you thought would be important. And just imagine – in 10 years, you’ll finally be happy with who you are and where you have come from and are. You’ll be in love with yourself and life.

I love you,

Your 28 year old self

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Being back in familiarity makes the mind numb. Makes my mind numb…or perhaps just comfortable. Every day flies by so quickly and leisurely for I know my surroundings so well that I don’t have to think. I know my family and friends inside and out so I can just be. It’s as if the brain cells have literally slowed in their transmissions.

Writing this entry should be so simple, I was up last night thinking about what I was to write and how and this thought-provoking idea came to mind – mainly that I have lost all thought-provoking ideas since my return to my “home of comfort.” Or maybe I’m just tired and needed this break.

Maybe I should trust that this is what I need at this moment. After all, very shortly I will be in Chicago in another new city, finding a new home and a new job. Instead of beating myself up for it, maybe I need to give into it.

I haven’t been back in Baltimore for longer than two or three months in ten years and yet, it is here that will always be home. I’d forgotten how easy it could be to be back home – I’ve lived in unfamiliar territory since my 18th birthday. I got used to that – it’s not an on edge feeling – but it’s more survival instincts perhaps…being on your best form because you don’t know what someone will throw at you, how, when or why.

It’s also when things are unfamiliar and new that the idiosyncrasies of life come alive and creativity flows out fast and with need.

I’m not complaining. This sense of comfort is relaxing, but it’s amazing how quickly coming back home becomes normal and like I never left.

Nearly a month and a half has passed since we left the UK for the United States (the United States because we’ve driven through 15 of them), and I have had so many adventures, but have only really written in detail about one of them.

A family reunion, my 28th birthday party, a wedding, Americana at its finest (there are so many eloquent ways to describe the Americana I’ve seen, but I can’t think of any), a beach in Delaware with my best friend and her family, a funeral this week, partying in downtown Chicago, sipping champagne at the top of the Hancock building, an outdoor movie downtown, Charlie and Eileen visiting, biking with my stepfather and his new wife on the NCR trail – the list goes on. I’m only now processing this.

My neurons are slow.

How am I supposed to find a job in this climate of slow mental emissions – SME they call it?

A comprehensive list of things to do to regain control of ambitions:

1. Google “Jobs in Chicago”

2. Google “Apartments in Chicago”

3. Send off letters to literary agents requesting that they grab my novel and sell it right away because I will make them a lot of money.

4. Google “Literary Agents”

5. Wake up before 10AM every morning.

6. Stop watching “Housewives of New Jersey” marathons, followed by “Intervention” programs and “Hoarders” (oh, it’s even better than they said it would be! Now I just have to try to catch “Teen Moms” and my life will be complete.).

7. Stop being distracted while making lists of “to do” items by children’s television programs.

Now, enjoy some more of these Natalie Dee comics that I just found.

In honor of babysitting my nephew this week:

In honor of random jokes that make me laugh a little too hard:

In honor of being back home:

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We’re back in Baltimore, Maryland.

Our month long escapade across the roads of America is over. My month long escape from monetary, artistic and logical goals has quickly caught up to me. And here we are.

Here we are in the spare bedroom in the house of my wonderful sister, her boyfriend and my nephew on their blow-up bed. Their very comfortable and hospitable blow-up bed, I hasten to add – but it is nevertheless their blow up bed.

As many travelers know, the traveling is wonderful (if not a bit tiring), the seeing beautiful places is the best and the adventures are what you write home about and never forget – but it’s the getting home afterward that is the killer, and is the part that you forget about. The part that when you’re planning all the incredible things to do in the world that you don’t want to even worry about.

Because what is the point? Of worrying. It will all work out. It always does. (Read this blog post by Alisha if you want to hear her take on it – Bird by Bird. Have I already linked to that in a previous post? My mind is frazzled.)

And here we are back at The starting over. From square one. With three suitcases holding all of our possessions in the world, and our bank account aching for us to make it fatter.

So… I need to find a job.

After nearly two years of working on my own terms, under my own auspices (I just had to look up that word to make sure I was using it correctly – see what a month of driving around America does to the mind!) and making my own hours, it is time to find something to bring in the cash.

Don’t get me wrong, I will still be writing, selling my book and eventually finding a job that I love to do….but in the meantime, hard and cold, and even a little bit pretty, cash is what I need. And I’m not afraid to get my hands grimy.

This lady who lunches is not afraid to hang up her dainty lunching hat and pull up her dirty knickers to get this couple a place to live. (Although before I start getting charitable contributions or letters of sympathy, I want to clarify that we are in no way poor or starving or lacking in funds – we will be if I don’t get a job soon, but we have enough for the general down payments, moving expenditures, food, etc. Don’t want anyone to worry for no reason

Tomorrow I will outline my plan and have something more inspiring to say – or contemplative – or philosophical – or observant….

In the meantime, time to catch up on that much needed sleep. 28 years old catches up to a gal!

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Thank you to my readers for clicking and helping out a friend.

Her ID is 52921 and her first name is Madeline. Click HERE to vote!! or on the photo below:

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To summarize, 2500 miles in less than 7 days in our 1997 gold Toyota Camry. Traveled from North Carolina log cabin in the mountains with grandparents to dinner with third cousins, (or is it first cousins twice removed?) in Chesapeake, VA, beaching it with my best friend, her boyfriend and incredible family in Rehoboth Beach, DE.

Now in hotel after 14 hour drive through MD, PA, IN, IL. Wedding tomorrow of the beautiful Katie and Jim! Really looking forward to it!

Reading the book, “The Help” because my mom handed it to me on my way out the door. And it’s good. Too good. I realized when I finished my workout today and endorphins were replaced by tears at the end that it was because I was in Mississippi in 1965 and my white boss just told me I could no longer pee in her bathroom, but had to go outside and the boy who cuts my lawn got beat up so badly by his white boss that he went blind.
Intense reading. Makes me want to write something that will transport people.
Now off to pick up two friends from O’Hare.

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But the pressing story is the one where my grandparents took us on a non-guided white water rafting trip with “8 Miles of Fun on the Nantahala River” with the Rolling Thunder River Company Since 1977! with Grade III rapids.

When the guides did a roll call before the rafts took off, I noticed that we were the only ones without a guide – out of the 85 people there. I looked around at our group – Grampy (78), Cora (a few years younger than Grampy) – not that age really has anything to do with this, but bones do become slightly more fragile at a certain point (apparently, not where Cora’s concerned though)- Jock (had done one guided tour in Africa on Grade VII rapids where he got thrown out of his raft 9 out of the 15 rapids they went through, trudging water) and me (had one experience in Aspen, CO – again, with a guide). Let’s put it this way – none of us were qualified to steer the raft.

However, we were assured that we’d be fine and once we got our brief lesson and decided that Jock would be our captain, we began to feel more confident. Within the first five minutes, Cora and my head nearly got knocked off by a large branch jutting out into the river, but besides that and getting stuck on a rock for a few minutes, we sailed clear for a good two hours, through many rapids and passing many other boats. Jock proved to be a stable and commanding leader and although there were times when his British quietness rang deaf on older ears, the other raft guides complimented our seemingly learned expertise.

Then, the group leaders pulled every raft to the side of the bank. It was the last five minutes of the trip. This was the big one, the big rapid, kahuna, so we were instructed exactly how to go forward – keep raft facing straight ahead, secure feet under seats in front and if we happen to fall out in the 48 degree F water, look immediately for a rope and keep your nose and toes above water.

Surely we wouldn’t need that!

We follow closely behind the raft that we’ve been following the entire trip before a blue boat sneaks in front of us. They aren’t with our company and I quickly point out that they don’t have a guide on their boat either. I instruct our leader – whether he wanted it or not – to watch out for that boat, they seemed to be all over the show, and the guy steering in the back doesn’t have the patented steering motion down at all.

 The first big bump approaches and we pass over it with flying colors, except Jock nearly gets thrown overboard (but I didn’t feel a thing) - this is NOTHING!

 The second part comes up, we watch as three rafts go over roughly, but intact. Then, the fourth one – the blue one – starts to go over. And they STOP. They don’t go over the rapids, but get stuck on one of the rocks directly over where we’re headed. I look back at Jock, he shrugs his shoulders indicating there’s no where for us to go. I look forward and that’s the last thing I remember seeing.

The boat tips, I get flung off and submerge headfirst into the freezing water. The only thought of mine that I remember is: Of course. Of course I am the one who gets flung out of the boat. Here we go. 

The cold knocks the wind out of me, my head bumps the boat and it seems like hours before I come up for air. The water is swirling and pushing me fastly forward. I can’t regain my composure. Finally, I hear “ROPE! ROPE!! GET HER THE ROPE!!” I fling my arms around, forgetting about the toes up part of it and splash around like butter on a frying pan until I feel a rope, then the rope goes taut, and I hear “GET OFF THE ROPE!! YOU’RE IN A BOAT! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? GET THE F*&% OFF THE ROPE!!!”

Apparently, the blue boat that we were able to push off the rock, grabbed the rope intended for me…or CORA. I suddenly see Jock and Grampy pass by me in the boat and no sign of Cora. I feel like crying. I’m fine being thrown out, but CORA? Finally, I grab a rope intended for me, get pulled to the shore. One of the guides says to me in her southern drawl, “M’aam, please move to the side of the shore.” But I can’t move. I am frozen and in shock. “M’aam, it doesn’t do you any good standing there, please move on over to the side.” My legs aren’t moving, and I notice Cora is still floating down the river – she remembered her nose and toes!

When she finally got pulled out and we are reunited, all we can do is look at each other soaked from head to toe and laugh. We laugh and laugh and laugh. We might shake a little still, but we laugh. Poor Grampy and Jock – they lose their birds to the white waters and here we are just peeling over in laughter. Cora is definitely a tough lady!

Here are some pictures to better describe or click here for a slide show

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Then there’s the food portions. Two nights, two extremes.

Thursday night – Tapas night! This isn’t Spain, it’s Federal Hill in Baltimore, but oh how I craved some Spanish tapas. Mixed with having dinner with my best friend and her new English beau, the evening couldn’t go wrong. And it didn’t, with the company. I made the mistake of going to dinner starving and somewhat penniless after splurging $2,500 more than we originally intended to do on a car. But oh, the 1997 Toyota Camry in Champagne color is a beauty – a grandpa beauty, but with 115,000 miles and one mechanic in its lifetime, we are happy to have a reliable car (pictures soon) with a sun roof, oh, and did I mention it has leather seats? Who cares about the hail pellet indentations on the roof when you’ve got automatic leather seats!! Woohoo. (More importantly, we have something to drive to North Carolina next week).

Anywho, at an average of $9 a plate for half a bite of food that was mildly delicious, all four of us opted for some french fries at the local bar down the street afterwards. And I’m all for gourmet food, but Centro Tapas was good, but not amazing for the small portions they fed us.

Then I come to last night’s dinner at Carmine’s in Washington DC. It was the largest portions I’ve ever seen with tasty big morsels of seafood, veal, pasta, calamari, cannoli’s, caesar salad, lasagna – and that was just for the five of us. It brings me back to the beauty and the curse of American society – our love of extremes.

What do you guys think? What are your views of the extremities of American society?

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Things accomplished these five days in Chicago:

1. No flight delays into Chicago

2. Six miles of walking around Chicago on hottest day of year. Burned those calories!

3. Figured out area we want to live – Old Town, here we come!

4. New black pumps and 2 purses bought. My wardrobe is coming back together after the 4 garbage bags we got rid of in England.

5. Jock gets lost for two hours on Stag Do/Bachelor Party. Or rather, the party loses him. He describes it as “the worst two hours of his life.” He eventually finds them and continues the drinking and partying. Oh, but before that, they get on TV at the Cubs game.

6. First Mexican meal in the states in Potter’s Bar in Naperville and some raw cookie dough with ice cream to finish it off – only in America.

7. American television – the amount of prescription drugs advertised baffles me. I forgot how much we over medicate and then brag about it on TV. Deal or No Deal, as much as I loved it in England, I will NOT be watching those annoying, loud, screaming people in America. Don’t we understand the joy of subtlety at all? Watched “Monster’s Ball” for the first time as well – Halle Berry clearly doesn’t in her over-the-top performance sex scene. She won the Oscar for that? Really?? Heath Ledger should have gotten it.

Back to Baltimore for a week to finally work on getting my book sold. Will let you know the progress of that! Finishing the query letter, finding the right agents and stepping towards the future for Jock and I.

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