The Christmas Time

This Christmas seemed to come and go like the cold in Texas. Here one day, gone tomorrow. Somehow, I remember Christmas as alwasy being this slow coming celebration. I remember, even after I was grown, being so anxious on Christmas Eve that I could not even sleep. This year was not the same. Christmas was like going through the drive-thru instead of being waited on. I wonder if it is not my impending life change that has made this Christmas seem so small and insignificant... I mean, what is one Christmas compared to moving to Italy for a year? All I know is that the "move" is only three weeks away, and I have not done a thing. No packing of the clothes, no nothing. It is the moving that I am dreading the most. Luging my luggage here and there, and up and down stairs, in and out of trains. Fifty pounds of heavy luggage with no help is all that seems to occupy my mind now. So, instead of contimplating this more, I decided to take up the torch this year and do a little Christmas baking. Somtimes there is nothing like procrastinating...

Blessed, Just In Time For the Holidays

Just before Thanksgiving, my office gave me a Holiday gift I will not forget: a two week long cold. Why on earth do people come to work when they are sick? And more important, why do not the people who are sick cover their mouthes when they cough? Well, the office cold finally caught up with me, and I was out of the office the friday before Thanksgiving, as well as monday. I drug myself to work on Tuesday, and was about to leave mid-day when my boss called me, ordering me, to stay at the office until he arrived because he needed to speak with me. So, I trudged back up to my office, and sat waiting for him for an hour and half. I knew what was coming, and yet I had to wait, sick and miserable, for him to tell me face to face that I was no longer needed in the office. I wasn't that I had done anything wrong, mind you. The simple truth is, that the industry is falling at the moment, and it was only a matter of time before someone was let go. I could tell in his voice what he needed to say, and I wish he would have just told me over the phone so I could go home. He did not, though, and so I waited. He told me the facts, and I gathered my things, feeling like I wanted to skip out of the office. Oh yeah, and everyone else seemed to know I was going to be fired that day, and no one told me. No one was shocked when I said I was leaving...for good. Oh well, I can't say I much liked any of them anyway, so I am on to bigger and better.

Italy is less than two months away, and I am a little overwhelmed at the idea of packing everything I need for a year of my life. I keep thinking ahead to the future, a sometimes not-so-good habit of mine, to the next year, and the year after, and the year after that. I keep saying to myself "Slow down, a year is a long time and who knows what will happen, or what you will want to do in December?"

Texas finally seems to have cooled down- after all it is only December!- and I am enjoying heating up apple cider, curling up with a warm blanket and a book, and in general getting some time to relax and do a little just for me. Apparently, the new weather has also brought a new guest: Frankie, aka: Frank, Kitty, and Tabby. Neither Mom, Dad, nor I am sure if Frankie is a boy or a girl. I keep calling her a girl, and they keep calling him a boy. But, Frankie seems to have accepted us, flaws and all. We think Frankie is pretty young because if his/her liveliness. He/She is gray all over with a stripped white belly. Mostly Frankie prefers to be on his/her own four feet, and loves being scratched. Although a stray, Frankie does not seem to be very wild. We have no idea where he/she came from, but low and behold, the other day is was outside our house. We all sat with her a while, leaving the door to the house open, and he/she made her/his way inside. We even left to go eat dinner that evening, and Frankie was waiting for us when we returned. So, we seem to be the chosen family. Now, half the time, we can't even get Frankie to GO OUTSIDE. This is a very fortunate cat indeed. Perhaps, if Frankie is still around tomorrow, I will post a picture of her/him.

Just Call Me Wednesday

I just bought my ticket to Italy. In two months I will be leaving for another world, the old world. Living for a year without many of the comforts of home, and certainly without the stress of day to day life.

Perhaps I will even change my name. My French friend's boyfriend calls me Wednesday, in French of course, because of my last name. Normally I hate "Adams Family" jokes, but I loved this. A change of scene, a change of name, and a quick change of life are all you need to remind you of who you once were before the stress of work, and money, and, well, life. I shall be Wednesday Adams, traveller extraordinaire, European aficionado, master of languages.

I have been thinking a lot lately about my dreams. I gave up on my dream to be an editor after I left college. I was so focused on getting back home, and being with my family, and actually making money, that I let that dream fall by the way side. Honestly though, even if I had decided to work around Texas as an assistant editor, I would have probably not liked it. I wish I could go to film school NOW. I was so insecure of my abilities as a film student in college and I hardly ever felt good about my work as a filmmaker. When someone brought to my attention that I had actually given up on my dream to edit films, I was shocked. My first reaction was 'No! That's not true. I didn't give up on my dream, I just left it on the bench for a while.' But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I left my dream on a bench fifty miles behind me. Perhaps I would have become famous, or even just more confident in my abilities as an Editor, or perhaps I would have hated making no money, and going nowhere. I do not want to give up on this dream. I want to make this work. I want to learn to speak Italian, French, German, and Russian. I want to have fun while I am learning and meet new people, and so what if I am not making much money, I have nice things that are waiting for me back home in my closet.

I have shaped up, now it is time to ship out.

The Comforts of Home

There is a cocoon of clouds around the city this morning. Gray fog sits watching all of the cars, slow and fast, make their way to work. It looks like winter, but feels like fall; and I like it. I stopped in at the Starbucks across the street from my office, which happens to be attached to a bookstore. I was pleasantly surprised to find that, not only was the shop not busy, but they still had several packs of my favorite snack, the "Power Protein Pack" or something like that. I ordered my coffee, which I was not really wanting, but how can you go into Starbucks and NOT get a coffee. So, while I was waiting for my brew, I happened to glance over at the bookmarks rounder, and felt an instant kind of comfort. Like the comfort you feel when you have been away from home for too long, or like realizing your love for something all over again. To me, bookstores, libraries, they are like preschool. You know the bookstore is not your home, but it still has all of the emotional comforts of home surrounding you. I think it is so sad that some people just do not read. How can you not love to read? In a story, so so many more things can happen because they take place in your imagination, and what's more, every story is different to every reader. I do not think it is important to read what other people think is great, I think it is important to read what you think is great. So, if you love serial romances, then go on and read them, or trashy mysteries, do not be embarrassed. After all, someone out there took the time and energy to create that story and it deserves to be loved.

The Daily Grind

Well, I am back from Italy, and back to reality. Well, reality as I know it right now. I have officially decided to quit my job, and not feel bad about it. I am putting in my two weeks notice on December 10 (there are no bonuses in my line of work so no point in staying until January), and I cannot wait to be out of here. Today is a fairly relaxed day, I seem to be slipping under the radar for now. I guess the impression of my extenuated absence is still holding a thin veil around me and so I am allowing my mind to wander for a while. Okay, well that is not completely true. I am mostly focused on lunch. Every thirty seconds my eyes gaze hungrily at the clock and my stomach becomes more and more vexed at the slowness of the minute hand. Other than my prevailing hunger, I am mostly thinking about how nice it will be to finally be rid of this toxic office. You know, "The Daily Grind" is really an appropriate slogan for a horrible job. Each day your colleagues, boss, and just the office in general grate away at your heart and soul.

But, I am mostly happy now. There are only 31 more days of actual work before I am moving on with my life, so I am doing my best to spend little and save big. In the past few months I have been stocking up on everything from Jo Malone to Kooba bags, and of course, stocking up on nice pieces of clothing. I know after I leave this job, money is going to be tight. And now that Obama is president, things are only going to get tighter. However, I will not be poor forever. One day I will regain the salary that I am giving up now. For now though, I am stocking up on lots of nice items, handling them with care, and doing my best to make them last while I am out and about in the world.

I am worried about my parents. My father has a successful small business, but with the new administration coming in, I wonder if we are going to be able to afford the new house we are building. I guess they are just going to try and finish it as quickly as possible, and hope for the best. I think we will be okay, but I know everyone with even the slightest bit of money is scared right now. No one knows what the future will hold. At least I am going to Italy this January. I will be getting out of this office, and learning to live and love like an Italian.

In Medias Res

"In Medias Res" is a latin phrase meaning "In the middle of things". I learned this from one of my more... colorful, professors while I attended the University of Texas. He taught our small class about greek culture and mythology in modern terms, and introduced me to Euripedies, now my favorite greek playwrite. "In meidas res", I just love saying it, maybe that's why I remember it so well.

I had thought I would start this blog on a plane, or while in transit to my new life. Then, I realized even if I do find a better job, my life would not be renewed. I would still be me, have my memories of this job that I dislike, of happy and sad moments; I will always be me. Even new beginnings are really 'in medias res'.

I am really no different than most people in America. I don't like my job, and the people I work with clearly do not like me. Yet, this job is probably the best paying job I could have with my more artsy degree. I like to shop, and have nice things, but is this job worth it? I look at my paycheck every month and think, 'yes, you should stay with this company until you have another job secured.' But, there are days, weeks, when I think 'I am just going to quit', afterall I do know a friend who can give me a parttime job until I find something better. No matter what I do, I know I am going to be making far less money than I am now. I know it is better to wait until December to leave this place, and pocket as much money as I can. So, I am sticking to it. Even though some days are like hell on Earth, I know it is better, that I will be thankful, for staying and saving. One good thing about my situation, as my mother likes to remind me, is that I have no debt. Well, the student loans have yet to kick in, but otherwise, I am debt free. My parents still pay my gas and car insurance, as well as my health insurance. I think it is time to do what I want. I have always done the practical thing, thinking that lofty goals were out of my reach; and they will be soon enough. Now is my chance to live in Italy, or move out to beautiful Montana, go back to school. Maybe I am 'in medias res', but it feels like the beginning to me.