Woman, know thyself

After all this time out here in CA, I've come to realize that I'm not a rolling stone. I had wondered, when I first left DC, if I was going to be able to just land easily into a new life here, and roll with the changes. I didn't know if I would be staying, but that didn't matter. That didn't concern me. What concerned me was...given the choice, could I do it? Would I?

Turns out, I'm not nearly as unattached to DC as I had perhaps thought I might be when I left in May. For all that I am a single person, not dating anyone or married, and being thoroughly fed up with the not having yet found a job and feeling 100% let down by that situation, I am seriously attached to my place in DC. I maybe can't answer how I'm going to make it work, returning to DC and my apartment and all the attendant worry of this job search when I'm pretty much dangling by my last financial thread, but at least I know what I don't want - to just give up. And now that I know that, I can focus on what I do want. Where I do want to be.

I want to be back on Connecticut Avenue. I miss the way the sun looks at night, lengthening out behind the buildings clustered on my block in a final buona sera. I want to be meeting my favorite girls for margaritas. I even miss the damned humidity. I miss the quietness of just being me in my apartment; it's a life I took a bit for granted, and perhaps didn't appreciate to it's full potential. Instead of seeing the freedom in not being married or having children, I've often focused my sights on the fact that I'm a-l-o-n-e. Instead of relishing the gift of blissfully unaccounted for time that single people enjoy on a daily basis, I rue the dinner I make for one, the drink I pour for one and the bed that sleeps only one. Instead of thanking my lucky stars that I'm not stuck at my last job, still fuming over how my old boss treated me, I wonder if I've become invisible, stuck in a career cul-de-sac which I can't ever escape. I temporarily lost sight of all that is wonderful and amazing about being 100% all about Ryane, all of the time.

I never have to manage someone else's expectations; I never have to compromise on food choices or who controls the TV remote; I never have to put-up with bad moods (except my own!) or contrariness for no good god-damn reason other than that is simply the mood of the day. I would never pretend that not having to deal with these realities is reason enough to never want to get married or be in a relationship; I know they aren't. Idiosyncracies are part of the fun of a relationship. I'm merely realizing that for every thing I feel I don't have as a single woman, I have something equally as wonderful as just me, Ryane alone.

And the reality of my life right now is this. I'm not weighed down in potty training or Disney movies or never being able to take a free afternoon and fritter it away watching old Meg Ryan movies on TV. I'm not expected to always account for my whereabouts. I'm not beholden to always make dinner or do laundry or answer to anyone...and it's nice. It's lonely at times, and it does mean I'm alone...but it's also sorta nice. I like knowing that when I leave for work in the morning, all will be as I left it when I return. I like knowing that if I want to run around at Loehmanns and DSW all day on a Sunday, I can. I don't want to be the sad invisible girl who yearns to cook for someone else and wish them goodnight as they fall asleep next to her, but I also don't want to be the sad girl who becomes invisible to her own life - to what it's given her that maybe she didn't realize she needed.

Cul-de-sacs seem like traps to me, but I'm realizing they have exits. If my life entered a cul-de-sac last year - by choice and partly by circumstance - then at some point, it has to exit out again. And that means I need to be ready now, because when it does, the burden will be upon me not to return to things as they were, and not to assume that life will never revive, but to know what I had (have?) going for me that is great, and go from there. What happened last year - and I don't just mean losing my job, but losing a relationship and losing sight of myself, as well - is behind me. Can't change it now and even given the option, I don't think I would...

It is said that when settlers first arrived in Northern California, they hit the Sierra Nevada mountains and many of them stopped seeking, convinced there wasn't anything past those magnificent peaks. Others, obviously, pushed on and established the communities that are today major towns in this enormous state. But no matter where they ended up, they all started from nothing and made it work. I'm lucky. Instead of starting from nothing, I'm starting from something: unbelievably wonderful friends and family; a community I genuinely care about and miss; a deep-seated belief that life my life...is oK, even if I have to make yet again more changes and pull up hard on my bootstraps.

People have started with less and ended with less than a summer spent in California and the support of dozens of people to help them acheive their goals, and I certainly never expected my job search to just be snap-my-fingers easy or not require effort. I knew it was going to be a long haul to get where I needed to be and that I'd likely have to make some compromises along the way. I am glad I tried out CA. I'm sure that in one way, I haven't really been here long enough to know if I would really want to stay, to live here. But I already know the answer to that question. I could. In fact, if a fantastic job came along, I would. I would make the change and stay here because I really not in the position to turn down a job right now.

But to stay here simply because I haven't found a job in DC, or 'that' relationship I've been seeking, or because I haven't gotten a return phone call on my resume isn't the answer, either. I'm oK with working hard, and even with putting my personal and social life on hold in order to have the time to work three jobs if needed...but I'm not oK with bailing on my life in DC simply because several somethings haven't happened. Yet.

It's still a huge unknown; what's going to happen and when. But I'm yearning for home...

Laughing the days away...

So, it's been all kinds of doom and gloom,'go-away-you-bother-me kid' around here lately and for that, I apologize. I came out to California to fling things...my expectations for this damn job search which is taking far longer (and far more out of me) than I anticipated, my stress, my irritation. Instead, I've let too many days get bogged down in worry from 3,000 miles away and almost missed some very important moments.

I haven't worn makeup in almost...6 weeks? Now, I love to wear makeup. Anyone who knows me in real life understands that in some regards, I eat, drink and sleep it on a daily basis for some of my freelance work. And even though at home I was never the girl who wouldn't leave her house without a full face of makeup and my hair coiffed to within an inch of it's life, I still pretty much put on some form of makeup each day. There has been something incredibly freeing about simply not caring one way or the other if I wear makeup or I don't. My 'new' boyfriend sure doesn't care. All he cares about is will I allow him to watch TV, and when can we build another Thomas the Steam Engine train track (and I sorta love that too, gotta be honest).

I've been getting up most days before 6am and running. I'm a runner anyway, so the running bit isn't so out of character for me, but at that hour - it is. The afternoons are so hot here that I had to change my normal pattern, which had been right after work around 4:3o. Plus, my nephew. He's asleep at 6am. He's most definitely not asleep at 4pm, so the early hour just made sense. Now that I've been doing it for awhile, I think I might really like it. A lot. For one thing, at 6am, I'm barely awake enough to worry, and I certainly haven't got the energy. For another, even though I like the mornings, I'm not really such a sweetheart at that time in the morning...running. I'm much more 'grit my teeth and bear it because there is a monumentally large cup of coffee waiting for me once it's over' and so, I don't have time to worry because I'm too busy gritting my teeth and counting down the steps until I'm done. And the being done part - now that I do truly love. It's over! By 7am most days, my workout is d-o-n-e, and that is a feeling that I could get used to pretty quick. Weirdly enough, running at the crack-of-dawn has made me realize just how much I was worrying these past few months by giving me a new challenge to focus on. One that won't let me dick around and waste energy with worrying because I need it all to get my ass out of bed at 5:45am and into my sneakers.

I've finger-painted, been to the zoo, gone swimming, baked cookies, played Punch Buggy, gone for walks, learned the names of all the trains in the train yard, cooked dinner, listened to temper tantrums at what must be 100 decibels, danced to Elvis, watched The Lion King (and Dragon Tales, Kipper, Caillou and all the rest of the Sproutlet friends), played with playdough, gone for ice cream...I've had a summer vacation like I haven't had since I was 12, and I was this close to missing it all by stressing and worrying.

I hope everyone I know gets some of these types of moments this summer because it's made me realize both how easy, and how hard, it truly is to live in the moment. Oh gag, I know...I've invoked a catch-phrase that probably makes us all want to groan in agony, but it's true. I don't do it. Or, should I say, I don't always do it very well, and I need to. I at least need to try because next summer, when I'm sitting at the desk for the job I will eventually find, I'll lament these days I had in CA when the most that was expected of me was to get up at 6am and go running, carefree and unfettered by worry, responsibility, stress or fear.

It's almost July, and my time out here is winding up fast...far faster than even I anticipated. The one promise I made to myself before I left DC...the only expectation I made of this whole trip...was that I wouldn't waste a second of it, or of me, while here. Normally expectations get me into all kinds of trouble and prove to be nothing but major letdowns, but in this instance, I think I done right by myself. The job search is stressful, and it is causing me to re-examine my life, myself, my choices and my future in a glaring and harsh light, but it's not the end of me, or the end of any future life I can and will have regardless of the outcome. I know this. I even believe it deep down in my bones. I think I just forgot because I was so far gone on the drug of worry, I couldn't see any forest for any trees on any planet in this known universe. But I think I'm back now. And I hope that means corners were turned when I was busy saving the universe (and my nephew) from Space Grizzlies.

Baby dream your dream

I was out for drinks last week with two women (sisters) who are friends of my sister here in anywheretown, CA. At one point during the conversation, one of the sisters asked the other to share with me some thoughts on job searching since she had just recently found a job after a long battle with unemployment.

"Tell Ryane about job searching...what are your insights after having been through it yourself?"

I sat back in my seat and waited expectantly to hear her answer. Would it be trite? Would it be one of those obvious insights that we all overlook and feel foolish about it when we realize we've done so? Would it be just plain common sense, or a bridge I had already crossed? I was overly optimistic.

"Well...it takes time" she said, knowing that I have been looking for nearly 10 months. "And, you shouldn't expect to find your dream job. I mean, you know...it probably won't be a dream. You might have to take whatever you can get."

I stared at her and hoped my face didn't look pained and annoyed because I was. Annoyed, that is. Don't expect my dream job? What is this, an after-school special? Where did that come from?

I know giving advice isn't everyone's cuppa, and perhaps she felt mightily put on the spot but I found her answer to be completely useless to me, and to my situation. Encouraging me to strive for less than what I a. May be able to achieve and b. May actually find seems...peevish. Unimaginative at the very least and frankly - bitter. I didn't expect her to pander to me and coo over my current job-sob story, but telling me to not expect my dream job is like telling me that Ken isn't a real man, and Barbie won't marry him after all. No, really? It just struck me as incredibly insensitive and frankly, dumb. At that moment, this woman who in every other way had seemed witty and charming and fun seemed incredibly dim-witted and small minded to me, which in turn, made me feel petty and evil.

Are we all on the road to mediocrity, then? I know things aren't good right now for a lot of people, not just me. And yes, for me personally, life is on a slippery slope the likes of which I haven't ever experienced and I don't know quite what to do about that. But I have a sneaking suspicion telling me to just give up and take lemons instead of trying to make lemonade isn't the answer either.

I like to believe her intentions were good. It's likely she was annoyed with her sister for asking that question. But why give such an inane answer? (And it is. That Really IS an inane answer.) And yes, I do need a job. And it may end up being a job that isn't 100% of what I wanted, but what job is? Heck, what life is? Relationships, new cars, expensive shoes, coffee from Open City...even things we all think we know from 100% of what we wanted end up disappointing us at some point or another, but we don't tell ourselves to stop searching for them, or seeking them out. I don't want to give up on my expectations for a job. I won't.

That very nice, witty and charming girl didn't know her audience very well when she answered that question, and I guess what I resent the most is her apparent lack of thought before opening her mouth. Why give such a completely vacuous answer? I'm looking for a job. Not a treasure hidden under a big 'W', or a bag of gold at the end of a rainbow or even Jim Morrison's elusive coffin. A.JOB. It's altogether as simple and as complicated as that, but I don't think it's as simple as telling me that it takes time or that it might not be my 'dream'. Telling me to search this job site or try that headhunter, yes...but not get my dream?

I don't know what deal this woman made with her conscience when she got her job, but I'd be willing to bet that some of her answer had less to do with me, and more to do with her, than I will ever know. And that's fine. She and I aren't friends and I don't judge her in any way. Hell, I don't even know her. However, because I know that not all dream jobs are dreams anyway, I think I am going to look on the brighter side of this interaction, and pare down her advice into one easy-to-swallow morsel that goes something like this: "It might take time to find your dream". And that is advice I can get behind.

Friends in low places

One of the most humbling aspects of job-hunting (at least for me) is having to learn not to take every silence, every lack-of-reply, every failed networking attempt, every lost job opportunity, personally.

I know that as far as DC is concerned, who-you-know often = relative quantity of opportunities when looking for a job. I know. this. I have capitalized on it as best I can, reached out to distant acquaintances and friends for introductions, combed self-help websites and job-seeker books; I've been to the zoo and seen all the animals and still, I'm struggling with not feeling cast aside.

It's almost more unbearable than waiting for a guy to call me back, this waiting to hear back from a recruiter or from a want-ad or a contact. Companies must be enjoying the glut of candidates because from what I can deduce, business etiquette has fallen sharply, sharply by the wayside. Companies don't care. Or, maybe I just feel that they don't care about me. Which they aren't obliged to. I mean, I've noted on several occasions here that even in my present circumstance, I still have it pretty good and that a lot of other folks are in the same boat as me, and probably equally as pissed at the snail's pace job hunting seems to move.

See, here's the thing, though. It's not just any old company. It's a company. One particular company who is blowing me off that I am wondering about and I have to find a way to get past it or I'm going to develop an ulcer. Why. Why are they acting as if I'm invisible and blowing off my emails and phone calls? I have already worked for this company on a freelance basis. We have enjoyed a long-standing work relationship since 2007, and I didn't just imagine that last year, when I lost my job, they took the initiative to discuss with me the next step in our working relationship. And it was a really good step. I'm almost embarrassed to admit that I got my hopes up because it seems such an amateur mistake, but I did. The job they wanted me to do...god. I really wanted this job. I was good at it.

It suited me right down to the ground and now...even after I have reached out to my contacts at this company via email and phone calls, I have gotten zero response. Not even a polite, 'thanks, but no thanks: Fuck off and leave us alone' letter. I'm getting bumpkus. No replies. At. all. Perhaps my schmoozing skills are lacking but what part of Emily Post for business etiquette states that the blow-off is copacetic in this situation?

Options, at this point, are few. I can't force this company to talk to me, no matter how badly I want to drive to their offices here in CA and demand answers. (Yes, as clever fate would have it, their offices are located right here in the town where I happen to be summering.) I know there are no answers to be had that the silence hasn't already told me, and I suppose I just don't want to listen...rather like a breakup. Even when the final death knell sounds, who wants to admit that the relationship is over?

I know I can't change this situation with wanting, and to try and force their hand will not only cause trouble for myself, but almost certainly burn a bridge that I might need one day, but I really feel like making a fuss and being a bitch. How do I burn off this frustration and anger? Picking a fight with a large corporation is beneath me and looks even stupider in print than it sounds in my head, so very definitely - that option is out. But I'm still angry.

And I still want that job.

Last in line

Of all my friends, I think I am one of the very last to embrace Facebook. I don't know why I resisted for so long. Part, not wanting to be found by certain people; part, not wanting to be morbidly bogged down with one more reason to sit at my desk and screw around on the Internet and; part, not sure that I would actually have any reason to be there. I knew my close friends would friend me, but what about my past, what of those people, that memory?

Now, after a few months, I feel like I'm getting my social-marketing legs, and have been contacted by several people whom I was surprised to find - after seeing them again all these years later - how much I missed. Just two days ago I found a girl who was my best friend in the 7th and 8th grades. And she looks the same...absolutely the same. She's not; I have since found out that her life has had many trials and she's struggled far more than I ever have in so many ways, but the shining eyes in the photo she sent to me are the very same shining eyes that smiled at me every morning in 1st period. Had circumstance not split us up at the start of high school, we would probably have remained very close.

Now, all these years later, I remember what it was about her that chimed for me, all of her funny expressions and her outlook on life; how she stuck up for me and didn't take shit off of anyone, and I suspect she's still that same person, only bigger. Older. More refined and less questioning, just as we all are. I imagine I will always have questions about my life. It's been my way since, I'm guessing, inception at least, but of some things, I have zero doubts. I know who I am. I know I don't like cilantro and can't stand reggae music. I know that I would choose Metallica over Coldplay, even if there was money on the line, and that whoever I was at 14 - part of her is still who I am. The 14-year old Ryane, who wore her hair in feathers higher than Olivia Newton-John could even dream and had (has!) Hey, Hey, What Can I Do? on a 45 would be proud to know this friend again. And, she would be excited to take the risk that not knowing the answers is...the trying just for the sake of trying. I wasn't good at that when I was a teenager. Abject shyness pretty much kept me mute and silent for a long time...yet this friend - she still loved me. She was still there for me and she knew me. We aren't friends any longer...but the potential for us to be friends again is strong, at least for my part.

Perhaps there's more to making and keeping friends than I anticipated a month ago or even 25 years ago, and that is a quietly satisfying thought to me. It's a question I like not knowing the answer to because it means I haven't given up completely. I won't be friending every old high school name that knocks on my Facebook door, but then again - I don't really think all that many more will. And that's fine by me. The few...the happy few... who I really did miss have all come back around again just like no time has passed at all. If I can feel this way about friends I knew a quarter-of-a-century ago, there's simply no time or place or space for me to lament and groan about making new friends. Or being single.

I guess it's good to be humbled by life every so often. It keeps our spirits at home and for me, that's a place that has felt foreign lately; odd angles and uncomfortable silences. If I can embrace the gangle creature that was me 25 years ago by re-forging an old relationship with a new friend, I know I can see my way through this current state of affairs to a positive end. At the very least, there won't be any humiliating class photos to haunt me in 25 years should I fail, and, I know my friends won't care one way or the other.

It ain't so tragic

I took part of my afternoon today to go 'downtown' in my new city and poke around. It was familiar, as all downtown areas are, with traffic lights and one-way streets; honking horns (although I saw very few cabs), bus exhaust and robustly bad drivers.

Streets had a familiar ring to them, as well. K Street, Q Street, R Street. I kept looking in vain for Connecticut Avenue to slice cleanly through these avenues, but it never did, and I was oK with that. The grid of this city is smart, meaning - it is, in actuality, a grid. One could drive in, turn a few blocks and drive out again, just as easily as taking a spin around a neighborhood that is well known. I imagine I will get lost down there a time or two. It always seems to happen that way. And I imagine I will find myself charmed by the tall trees and the absolutely charming homes on these familiaresque city streets here soon enough.

But it still wasn't DC. It wasn't the leafy grandness of Rock Creek or the utter chaos of the zoo in mid-July. It wasn't me, knowing where I am at any moment, comfortable as an old shoe in my neighborhood of Cleveland Park...languishing hot days away in the icy-coldness of Georgetown shops or suffering brutal humidity on the red line. It wasn't any of the things I have alternately loved to hate, and hated to love all these years, and I'm curious what it will become. I can see myself living here, for a time, and that scares me. I don't know anyone here. Worse, I don't know if I even want to anyone here.

I already have friends...some of them hard come by and sorely missed. Some of them new and fragile. Some of these friendships so old, I can't remember a time when my life didn't include them. Do I want to go through all of that again, with people here on this foreign coast? Where crabs do not, in fact, get a boiling in Old Bay as a matter of course and where drivers actually let you merge? Make friends with an entirely new group of undoubtedly amazing people and open myself up to the potential thought that this might be it for me. I might not be able to return to DC because plain and simple, without a job - I can't afford it.

I have a life in DC that I love, and I have a chance in CA that might not be horrible. Talk about a rock and a hard place. I know, I know...woe is me and boo-hoo and call in the violins, I know. Poor wittle Wyane...forced to choose between DC and CA. If only it were that simple. I keep telling myself that perhaps one of the many resumes I sent off will mature and I'll get some calls from companies who are suddenly eager to start hiring again, and the decision will magically be made for me. Ta da...instant karma and all that lot. But if I am sure of anything about my life, I'm sure that it simply won't happen like that for me. More likely, I'll get fantastic job opportunities in Both cities...and then who will pull my fat from the fire? Bridget Jones made her emergency summit for a career crisis look like fun, but the last time I drank that much, I puked in an alley on P Street and spent the entire next day in bed, attempting not to puke while watching Giada concoct thoroughly disgusting Halloween cocktails. In light of the fact that I now reside with a 4-year old, perhaps not the most constructive kind of summit at present. But I need something...I need a plan and I'm fresh out. The magic of driving and leaving and tossing my fate to the winds has paled; reality is here and she's still as demanding as ever she was. Ryane. Decision. Now.

Rock, scissors, paper anyone? Best two out of three.

I just don't know what to say

I knew there would be a whole host of adjustments to be made, moving here, and not just the kind necessitated by the fact that most of my life is packed away in boxes spread between DC and MD. The give and take of living with people, the fact that I am taking care of a 4-year old most days (for at least part of the day) the fact that almost nothing I like to do - and people I like to do it with - are available to me in the same way as at home.

It could be that after the fact, I will look back on these days with a rosy glow and lament that I didn't do more while I was going through them. More play time with the nephew because he won't ever be this small again. More conversation time with the family because I won't be here forever. More soaking up of the ridiculous daily sunshine that never changes because soon I will be back in the thick of DC's so not consistent weather patterns.

What's weirdest for me is, here I am - in a new place, with new opportunities - yet the ties that held me down in DC are still an issue here. Perhaps even more of an issue. I still don't have a job, ergo: I still have precious little expendable cash with which to do fun things like try new restaurants, or attend events, or hell - even dive into the CA online dating world did I want to (I don't). My life felt stuck and in a holding pattern in DC and although I should not be surprised, I still am somewhat that it feels so here in CA, as well. I thought the yoke of not paying rent or bills would help. That I would feel unencumbered and be able to partake a bit more in life, rather than watching so much of it go by from the sidelines because of money. And honestly - it has. I mean, how could it not? Rent in DC is no trifling matter. But without the specter of my professional life settled, I can't live my life here, just as I couldn't really live my life there. I was maintaining. I'm still maintaining. And while maintenance is good - we all have to attend to it from time to time - I'm plum worn out. And frankly, getting annoyed.

I know the world is a tricksy place these days, and that plenty of people are struggling for work and are maintaining, just like me...but returns would be appreciated right about now. Returns on my hard work, returns on my resume, returns of some networking phone calls, returns on promised jobs...returns on my returns. I am a dork, and I did watch The Secret, so forgive me for indulging but after watching The Lion King 47 times in 5 days, and having to explain to a curious 4-year old what the 'small trashcan in the wall, next to the toilet in the ladies room' is, I need to indulge whatever gods and goddesses are lurking about and put out into the universe what I need. I need my job! I know it's out there and my life is calling; I want it back. Let the catalog of the universe, chock full of good things, open up to the page that is Ryane's unique and wonderful job (details of which have already been fully provided to The Universe) and place the GD order already. I'm not sure I can handle* one more conversation about tampon-bins, Mufasa's roar, Bugs, Cars, poop or construction sites without some much needed adult-fun sandwiched in-between.

*And let me just note that I love my nephew. I Adore him, and am enjoying every single second we get to spend together. But I am also a normal 37-year old female, and as such, need a healthy blanket dose of martinis, happy hour, girl talk, bad dates, good dates, and a regular PAYCHECK to keep me sane, thankyou and godbless.