I'm Good Enough, I'm Smart Enough, and Doggonit, People Like Me

I work part-time at a fashionable clothing store.  Not at all a snotty nightmare of a boutique; we're completely approachable and pretty mainstream in popularity and style.  I always tell friends that you've never seen crazy until you work in retail - and especially so in clothing.  The general public is generally pretty nuts.

I helped a woman earlier tonight who went to great lengths to belittle herself.  Every statement out of her mouth was completely deprecating.  What was interesting about it, though, was that I hadn't formed an opinion about her at all.... until she started to tell me how much she disliked herself.  She said she used to be a size 4 and she hates herself for gaining weight up to a size 6 (who wouldn't love to be a size 6??) and then went on and on about how un-stylish she is, how she never takes care of herself, how she doesn't bother to wear makeup because it wouldn't help anyway, she never knows what to do with her hair, she's a single mom and can't find a good man, etc., etc.

In the end, I couldn't help myself.  I said "I can sell you this blouse, but what you really need is a good, healthy daily affirmation.  A new top won't fix your self-image."  I thought she'd be pissed but told me that's what her therapist had said, too.  I wanted her to leave as quickly as possible - I wanted her bad vibes as far away from me as she could get them.  But it got me thinking about how often I've probably done that in the past.  And about how much of what she said, what I've likely said myself, is so automated that she doesn't even realize how much toxic waste is coming out of her mouth.  It's like telling someone "Don't like me, and here are a bunch of reasons to back that up."  Ugh.  If I was a man on a date with that, I'd be running for the door, too.

At least the next time I'm tempted to be self-deprecating, I'll remember how completely unattractive it is and take a page from Stuart Smalley's book.

2011: Wishin' and Hopin'

Since last year was so rotten...  illness, job loss, let-downs, break-ups, old break-ups blissfully marrying, financial woes (see job loss) and a nearly crippling depression...

I have no choice but to make this year awesome.  I'm going to let all of the suckage that was 2010 stay there, locked up, key thrown away.

I am thankfully re-employed, although not necessarily at my dream job and certainly not at my dream salary, I do quite enjoy it.  I am hoping that I will find my groove there and grow to love it - certainly better than the alternative.  My health is on the ups thanks to my own determination to kick bad habits (watching TV on the couch with Ben & Jerry) and get back into the shape of my youth.  A sweet friend who is my accountability partner (I hate exercising) has the daunting task of keeping me motivated to work out when I would rather see what the Unreal Housewives are up to.

The old boyfriend who wed?  Who needs him?  I've allowed myself to move on and couldn't care less that he's done so as well.  Married friends with kids who treat me like a diseased orphan?  I had a heart-to-heart with the bestie about my feelings and discovered that not only did she know she was treating me like a leper, she didn't know how not to.  As her only single friend, she just doesn't know what she can talk to me about anymore and having been married for nearly a decade, she just doesn't remember what it was like to be a single working girl.  So, I'm just going to give that relationship room to change, too.  It will probably mean less time together but that will only free up more time for me to meet new people.

And on to meeting new people.  I've always been a francophile but I've never been to Paris, I haven't spoken French conversationally since high school and aside from fromage and champagne, my only exposure to the culture of la belle France is my on-again-off-again Parisian lover whom I only see once a year if I am lucky.  He came to visit me this past weekend and as much as I cherish our time together, I realized that I'm ready to move on.  Somehow over the years, I have created a sort of French god out of him and placed all of my romantic hopes and desires at the foot of the altar I created out of an idealized version of him.  I care about him immensely but I deserve better than waiting around for some man to get around to me when he can, I don't care how sexy his accent is.  But he did challenge me to pick my French back up and visit him in Paris so I have signed up for French classes beginning in March.  Who knows?  I may meet someone else to travel to Paris with.  Or I may never go.  I may find that my fancies lead me somewhere else in the in-between and I'll allow them the freedom to stray.

I'm not big on resolutions but I am a fan of reflection and refocusing.  So I'm getting 2011 and beyond into focus and moving on, gleaming whatever wisdom I can from 2010 and leaving the charred, unusable remnants in my wake.

2010 In Five Words

Worst Year of My Life.

They'll Always Have Paris

My friend and his partner are on their way to Paris this afternoon. Lucky them. They invited me to go along... actually, they implored me to go. "Come to Paris with us!"... "It'll be fabulous, like something out of a movie!"... "This is a great time for you to go! You have nowhere to be, nothing but time!"... "Can you imagine!?! You could totally find yourself there and meet some fabulous French guy and live happily ever after in a beret!"... "When are you ever going to have this opportunity again?"

I've always wanted to visit the City of Light and I know I will someday, though definitely never in July and certainly not as a third wheel.  But who are they kidding?!?  I should go to Paris (not on their dime or else I'd have gone, third-wheel-in-July-be- damned) when I have no idea how I'm going to stay solvent if I don't find full-time employment.  I had to endure an entire evening of peer-pressurized begging last week and am glad they're finally on their way so I can have a little peace.  I have my fingers crossed that they'll bring me back some macarons from Ladurée.

It would be nice if life was like it is in the movies and even though I have major financial commitments, few resources and am entirely self-supporting, I could jet off devil-may-care to a foreign land where I discover myself and, of course, find myself discovered by a local heartthrob, then ride off into the sunset or something.  But I can't.  Who can!?!  I pointed out how unrealistic their pipe dream was; aside from being fiscally irresponsible, it was fiscally impossible, and they just scoffed and said I was a stick-in-the- mud.  Easy to say when you're a corporate VP.  Too bad he's not in my field of work.

It's so funny to me the level of incomprehension among my friends.  I just had to explain to a girlfriend that, no, I could not  do a movie and lunch Saturday afternoon because it's not in my budget and she said "who can't afford a movie and a salad?"  Um, me.  I'll get back to all of those little life extras when I have regular funds coming in.  For my age group, it's very apparent that the buy now, pay later philosophy has run amuck.  But I'm sure my mortgage lender appreciates that I'm pinching my pennies and not running off to Gay Paree with next month's payment.

The Roaring Twenties

Well, who wouldn't want to live in this Marvelous Age???

Spinsters in the New Economy

I've been job-hunting for four months.  I can hardly believe it.  I am working part-time and I actually enjoy my part-time gig.  Unfortunately, I have full-time bills.  And anyway, I suspect I only like it because I breeze in for a four or five hour shift and feel like I head home almost as soon as I get there, taking no burden of  responsibility home with me.  For the job search, I've tried everything.  Turned over every rock, exhausted every networking contact and I am still, for the most part, unemployed.

I've already gone through all of the stages of loss: Denial, Bargaining, Anger, Despair and now, Acceptance.  I'm so beyond feeling sorry for myself and wasting energy on hating my old boss.  I still do, I just don't think about it anymore.  A month ago, I felt like the world was on my shoulders.  I couldn't sleep for all the worrying I was doing.  Unfortunately, I could eat.  And then I would get mad at myself for eating my feelings because it's a lot harder to get a job if you don't look gorgeous.  Isn't that sad?  I think so.  An unfortunate truth.

Two weeks ago I had a call from an old contact wondering if I'd be interested in a new opportunity in her field.  I would!  I was ecstatic!  She emailed the desired skill-set to me; I was a perfect fit.  I interviewed the very next day.  It all went so smoothly, I could tell I was completely nailing the interview and it turned out the interviewer (my would-be-boss) is connected to my very best former boss ever.  So, I knew the amazing reference would seal the deal.  After a two-hour interview, I was exhausted but went home on cloud nine, positive that the universe is balanced and everything always works out in the end.  Or does it?

My old boss called me later that afternoon, all excited, and told me about the spectacular reference she gave me, that the new boss was so enthusiastic about me, and that she was sure they'd be making me an offer before the end of business that day.  She said at the very least, she'd be shocked if I didn't hear something by the next day.  I thought so, too!  I had sent my "thank you" emails the minute I got home and late that afternoon received the "Your reference was awesome, I enjoyed talking with you, let's talk salary" email and thought it was really going to happen.  Well, I heard nothing else that day, or the next, or the next, or the next.  And then it was the weekend, so I waited until Monday.  Nothing.

So Monday afternoon I called, had to leave a message on voicemail and followed up with an email.  I got a response the next day "I need to connect with so-and-so to discuss next steps, sorry for the delay", etc.  Not a total brush-off, but not exactly encouraging, either.  I had a bad feeling that this person, though a VP and incredibly successful, may not be comfortable having uncomfortable discussions.  It could be any number of things: they're not creating the position after all, my salary request was too high, they're interviewing other candidates, or maybe they really do think I'm great and I'm just antsy because I've been out of work for a third of a year.  Whatever the reason, it's been two weeks and I still don't know whether or not I have the job that they really needed to start last Monday.

I wanted this job sooo bad.  I was so excited about the opportunity and my mind was churning with all sorts of creative ideas for it.  Maybe I'll get lucky and it'll come through after all, but I've really done everything I can do and it's in Lady Luck's hands now.  Unfortunately, she just doesn't like me very much.  My little brother got all of the luck in the family.  I am the girl that nothing ever works out for and I have finally come to accept that.  I have a pretty good day here and there, but I need to temper my expectations a bit.  I want life to be vibrant and exciting and my career to be challenging and rewarding.  I think instead of hoping and wishing that things will be super awesome, I should expect them to be just okay.  That way, when they are super awesome, I'll take notice but when things are just okay, I won't feel so disillusioned.

Oh, but how badly I wanted it to work out this time!

Independence Day for the Single Gal

I had one of the best holidays today.   I turned down every invitation to attend  pool parties, the Peachtree Road Race, a local parade and various fireworks displays around town.

Instead, I slept in a little, made an enormous pot of coffee, had farmers-market fresh blueberries with my yogurt this morning, watched a few historic gems on The History Channel, made a flower arrangement and when I was sure it was going to remain sunny all day, I packed a beachy tote with all the poolside necessities and walked to my neighborhood pool which was blissfully devoid of neighbors with kids.

The appreciation for the day is never lost on me, considering what a history buff I am, and today especially so as it was my first Independence Day that I didn't have to work in about five years.    I spent the day in the sun with my Kindle and then returned home, bronzed and relaxed, to make a very July 4th-appropriate dinner.  Grilled chicken, salad, corn on the cob and (unsweet) iced tea.  Just like the barbecues we used to have by my grandparents' pool when I was a kid, minus the deviled eggs, potato salad, baked beans and the apple pie.  Oh, I miss apple pie.  I'm watching my starches - the corn was a splurge.  Incidentally, "unsweet" is the correct way to say you'd like your iced tea without sugar in the South.  We do know that "unsweetened" is grammatically correct but lobbing off a syllable or two is what keeps us cool in the summer heat - talking too much and too fast has a cumulative negative effect on your body heat; it's not scientifically proven but it's a known fact.  And you never have to specify "iced" either, we rarely take it any other way.  That would be silly.

I live close enough to downtown Atlanta that I could hear the fireworks going off as I watched them on TV.  So I got to enjoy the display without the crowds and traffic.  Honestly, the only thing that would have made today better would be real surf and a few palm trees, but the pool and hot pink crepe myrtles that line it were just fine by me.