Biennial Review

Waaay back in the days of working at the thrift shop during the time I was contemplating the demise of my marriage, I recall a conversation with Concert Katrina in which she asked what I desired in a future mate.

"He needs to have a job," I said.
"What else?"
"That's it. A steady job. That's my only requirement."
"You have to want more than that. You need to figure it out and write it down so that you don't settle for less than you deserve," she insisted.

Well, it took me a couple of major romantic flops before I scribbled down a few requests. [Exactly] two years ago, I spent a pensive day composing a post that outlined what I expected from my next relationship. I had just exited a dangerous liaison and wanted to have some words that I could glance at to remind me of what I demanded in my next love. Admittedly, I had a certain fella in mind when I wrote these words, but as I told him after he read the blog post that I had also "kept my thoughts open to another unknown special someone." If I learned only one thing through all those years of love and heartbreak, it was that I had to keep my options (and my heart) available to all possibilities.

Luckily, it was only a few days later that Mark and I decided to give it a go and haven't looked back. As I glance through this letter, I see that what I've got is just what I wanted out of what I definitively declare to be a great love.

And just so I can make this post look longer and save you from digging two years back...here it is.

An Open Letter to my Next Great Love

11/11/09

Dear Mr. Right,

I'm sure you have been wondering when I would come along. You've been living a good life for some time now. You are a wonderful person with tremendous love for your family and friends. You are complete on your own, but feel a tug toward a giving, loving relationship. And here I am. A like-minded spirit who longs for the same partnership. We are not the same, but we are not a case of "opposites attract" either. Our full lives leave just enough room for each other.

A little about me...I am not perfect, but I'm damn good. I am loving. I am smart. I am strong. I am beautiful. I am funny. If you do not believe these to be true, then this letter is not addressed to you. By societal standards, I might not meet any of these metrics, but for you, I give more love than you knew possible. To you, I am impressively intelligent. Because of you, I can move mountains. In your eyes, there is no greater beauty. With you, I laugh like no other.

And you are the most handsome, charming, witty delightful fellow I'll ever know. The mere thought of you brings a smile to my face. Your presence brings me comfort when I feel the world collapsing on me. You are my rock. If you don't believe these things about yourself then this note is not intended for you.

I have no desire to change you and you must not wish to change me. I will not surrender my sense of self. I will not give away those things that make me Me. Yet I am not stagnant. I will continue to grow in the way my heart directs. You will continue to grow in the way your heart directs. And if this essay was written to you, our hearts will move forward together.

I have much to offer, and am open to receive as well. Despite the fullness of my life, there is a void that only you will fill. And we might not recognize our love immediately. This could very well take time. We will learn each other, ourselves and us. Only then will we know that this message was meant for you. Parts of our lives will mesh seamlessly, others not so easily. But obstacles will pale in the light of our love. I have quirks and flaws. So do you. These will sometimes grate nerves, but more often than not, they will be overlooked or even embraced. We each love the other's whole self.

Our lives will be filled with more laughter than tears, more joy than pain, more love than doubt. And lots of music and dancing and kisses and hugs.

Because we are meant to be, when you are ready, I will be too. I will not be impatient while you find your way to me. I have much to do, continuing to grow and learn and teach and be. For now, I will live my life, and you, yours. Sometime, somewhere, our paths will cross. When they do, it will be an extraordinary union, for we are both extraordinary people and together we will build an extraordinary life.

Thank you for your time, my truest love. I look forward to the day we meet.

Sincerely,
Your next great love

California Dreamin'

Usually when Mark alerts me of an upcoming business trip, he's requesting my services as a dog sitter, so when he told me about an upcoming conference in San Francisco...and then offered to fly me out to join him for the weekend, I was immediately concerned for the dog's well being.

Or maybe not.

I had a few weeks to revel in the excitement of our upcoming getaway (and wrangle a kid weekend swap -- thanks, Mr. X). And as the big day grew near, I got my work-ducks in their work-rows, packed my purple boots and was on my way.

I hopped my flight, didn't miss any connections and even chose the correct train and ended up in the right part of the City by the Bay. Google maps told me to take a trolley up to the hotel, but the waiting line was prohibitively long and my amazing pocket computer's map said I was only 0.8 miles from my destination, so I hoofed it. Up a hill. I'm serious. This was a hill. No, really. A hill.

When I got to the top of Nob Hill, I took a moment to stop panting before entering the posh Fairmont Hotel. Mark was wrapping up his last session of the day so I headed back out (sans suitcase) and strolled through the neighborhood for a bit before I joined him for a cocktail reception. Our weekend had begun!

That evening we set out for dinner in a cab, but opted to return via cable car. I nestled into Mark as we climbed the hill in the evening breeze and savored one of those romantic movie moments that a young girl dreams about. A gorgeous night in an amazing city clutched in the arms of my true love...swoon.

The next morning after a cappuccino, we managed a 12-mile run through the city and along the bay coast. It was quite a treat to be enjoying new scenery, sounds and, well, smells. We made our way to the Golden Gate Bridge, turned around and eventually headed through more of the city so we could finish at the amazing Blue Bottle coffee shop for a much needed caffeine boost. Again intending to take the cable cars up to the hotel, we found a massive line, so opted to walk, weary legs and all. Then Mark had a brilliant plan: We should run the hill. Always up for a challenge, I gave chase and we trudged up Mason Street, much to the amusement of those making their way down.

As we cleaned up, Mark asked if there was anything I'd like to do while in the city. My response? Go to a thrift store. Mark suggested we consider seeing the massive redwoods. (I suppose a thrift store can wait.) We soon took off for Muir Woods to stand among trees that have seen a millennium and then some. Our legs fussed a bit, but the forest was awe inspiring.

We snuck in a nap once back at the hotel but had to make it a short one -- we had dinner plans. One of Mark's high school classmates lives in Oakland and promised to make us dinner. We arrived to a breathtaking view from their living room and fantastic company. Kathy and Tyrone proved amazing hosts and we enjoyed ourselves until way-too-late into the night.









The next day was a short one with little more on my agenda than coffee and to take Mark out for a thank-you lunch. At the same time, I was going to be a little selfish, wanting to be sure I could eat more than two menu items (Friday night's restaurant was surprisingly unable to comprehend my food sensitivity). Through the magic of Google, I found a completely gluten-free restaurant. When we arrived, it took all of my strength not to ask if each item was really GF. The menu was inexpensive, so we ordered one of almost everything, trying the various  fillings, toppings and breads inspired by Venezuelan cuisine. I was beside myself, eating without worry of being glutened. We ended up walking the two miles back to the hotel, which was a pretty good idea after eating half an acre of  corn[meal]. We also had several hours on an airplane ahead of us and our legs didn't fuss too much knowing we'd soon be sedentary.

We headed toward home with thoughts of a busy workweek on the horizon, but enjoyed a few more moments of relaxing together before we called it a weekend. I caught a vision of what it might feel like to lead a grown-up life -- one with getaways and vacations and adventures. I think after all these years of avoiding it, I'm ready to take the plunge into adulthood. Despite its challenges, it appears to have some decent perks.

Much Obliged

I've had a few moments lately of immense appreciation for my current financial position. While my job might end in February (it's a pilot, after all) and my wages are reflective of my employer's not-for-profit status, I feel a sense of security that I haven't known in years...or ever really.

A few days ago as I was nearing the Y, I passed a garbage truck and the men who work so hard to dispose of our filth and waste. I looked at myself, dressed to sit in an office and interact with fellow professionals and clients, and I was flooded with gratitude for my education. I'm pretty sure the sanitary engineers are earning more per hour than I am right now, but my future is bright (and less odorous). I will be able to work many more years, multiply my skill set and increase my income. I'm so grateful to have a degree.

And just last night when the two young ones expressed a need for school supplies and Halloween accessories, I was able to readily agree. It wasn't until I'd been wandering around WalMart for far too long that I realized how not stressed I felt. And there was that flood of gratitude again. Just a few months ago (and for most of my tenure as a parent), additional expenses, especially of the surprise variety, could put me over the edge. I can't count the times in the last two years I've had to deny my kids a $10-something because the household budget was so tight. It's not like I'm throwing cash around now, but to be able to buy the boy a hat for his field trip was enormously satisfying.

So while it's more or less a joke that I always offer the same pat response when a co-worker asks how I'm doing, it's true. Livin' the dream, folks. I'm livin' the dream.

Bleh...

I've decided that my ability to blog is lost. I've recently started several posts that are completely factual and inherently un-witty. This isn't good. I'm pretty sure one of the reasons I snagged my main man was that he could tell who I was from day one, having honestly chronicled my life for all to see in some sort of clever fashion. I'm not sure I have it in me anymore.

I'm thinking that time is so much harder to come by now that I'm employed than it was when I was a student. Don't get me wrong...being in college was soooo much harder than having a job. And while there was a finite amount of energy I could put toward researching and studying and paper writing, I still had time and wit at the end of the day for a post every now and again.

Though not nearly as mentally exhausting as school, employment is ridiculously time consuming. I make it to the end of my days and weeks with little more than dinner and maybe a light clean-up in me. Typing is just too much to ask of my keyboard-weary hands.

Sorry if you had your hopes up that I might actually say something...

Are You A Laundry Service?

This was the subject line to a recent email. It took me a second before I remembered that I owned a blog and it's title referred to laundry. Oops.

Hey Jennifer,

I'm reaching out to you because Thumbtack is getting a lot of job leads for laundry services, and I'm looking for another laundry service who is interested in taking on more clients.

After checking out your website I think you are a great fit for Thumbtack and I'd love to start sending you job leads. Please fill out a few details about your skills and rates, and I'll start forwarding you potential new clients.

If you have any questions about what Thumbtack can provide, please don't hesitate to ask.

Thanks,
Heather 

Oh, Heather...I promise, you don't want to send me any leads for laundering jobs. I don't sort out my whites and my running gear has perma-funk.

And wouldn't you be better off pursuing someone with a molehill of laundry?

Love Shack

Because it would be flat-out wrong for my life to move forward in a linear, uneventful fashion, on the eve of my Just-Right-Job-Offer, my landlord called to let me know he needed to sell the house. My precious Casa del Mar will be turned over to some other family so they may reap the benefits of its love.

I've felt it since the first day I came to see it. Casa del Mar hugs you when you walk in the door. Every time. It has held my hand through my first lonely nights sans kids. It provided the perfect corner for the Chair of Fabulosity. It's where I have celebrated my independence and created a fantastic home for my children. I love Casa del Mar.

I remember when I was getting ready to leave Los Angeles and I couldn't bear the thought of moving out of the Big Blue House. Princess Pearl was born in its tub, for Pete's sake! How could I turn such a precious home over to someone else?

Well, as monumental as those not-quite two years were, the almost-three I've enjoyed in Casa del Mar have dwarfed them. Moving out, finalizing the divorce, returning to school, buying Viv, chapters of friendship and love with Wasabi, conquering a marathon, earning my degree...the memories I've made here are layers of wallpaper that will soon be covered by someone else's dreams.

And that's okay (or so I keep telling myself).  Casa del Mar has been such a blessing in my life. I will always love it and will wish it well. It's obviously time for it to play a pivotal role for another family. The right person will pass the threshold and feel the love and it will become theirs.

And I guess that's all I ask...that someone loves it as much it it loves them.

Plan B

There you go. A toast. A job.

As a matter of fact, after nearly three  months of searching and networking and begging and moaning, I ended up with two job offers. After each of the first interviews, I was fairly certain I'd knocked their socks off. Turns out, I was right.

I was referred to Job A by a friend of a gal who takes my spin class. After the first meeting, I was asked to return the following day to shadow one of the head honchos. That went well, but I then learned HR was going to be vacationing for a week, followed by other interviewees and whatnot. In the interim, I was asked to take an enlightening personality test and finally shadow the other head honcho. The following day, I was offered the job.

Sounds great, right? Except I wanted Job B. Desperately.

I found Job B via indeed.com, but I also had an in at the organization. After reading the job description, I was certain it was my job so I applied online and then shot an email to my contact. I lost sleep that night thinking about that job. At my next opportunity, I made my interest known in person. A week or so later, I was called for the interview. It went well, and just a few hours later, I was invited to a 2nd questioning with one familiar face and a new one from yet another organization. I was pretty sure I aced that too, and knew their decision would be a quick one, but also knew Job A would probably be offered to me at about the same time.

Job A got themselves in a hurry and tried to snag me. I asked for some time to crunch numbers (you  know by now that I can make ends meet on next to nothing, but I needed to buy time) and then I lost sleep all weekend, worrying that Job B might not come through quickly enough...or not at all...or that I would feel like I had to take Job A then quit Job A to take Job B once it was offered. I'm worry-tastic like that.

By Monday morning, I was making myself sick over needing to answer Job A, fully believing I would get Job B, but, well, maybe not fully. So I couldn't just turn down A. I had to string them along. But I also had another job interview on Monday afternoon -- same organization but different position  as Job B. I dragged myself to it, knowing I didn't want anything but Job B. As I entered the building (different location), I saw one of my previous Job B interviewers. What I didn't know was that she saw me and panicked. She didn't want me to interview for Job C. She knew I was going to be offered Job B but some finalizing of offers was still in the works.

After a tour, I was seated to wait for my interview. A few minutes later, she grabbed me, dragged me into a room with a telephone. We were having a conference with yet another Job B interviewer. My smile grew...I was pretty sure I'd driven 25 minutes to accept a job that I could have been offered in the comfort of my home. And that was fine.

So it happened. My first Big Girl Job was offered to me. A job for which a college degree is required. A job that fits me like a [vintage full-length] glove.

I'll be a Healthy Living Coach at my YMCA. The job is a pilot initiative funded by Blue Cross and will target families who have children who are at risk for childhood obesity. I'll be conducting classes and activities, as well as teaching fitness and nutrition to entire families. I get to keep teaching my spin, youth fitness and family yoga classes. I get a desk. I get to wear grown-up clothes and do grown-up things. I get to be part of the solution.

Sigh (of the relief variety).