The thing about Sundays

The day seems so long when one is actually sitting in it and then, very suddenly, it's 8:34 pm and you have to start thinking about what you're wearing to work tomorrow.

I'm still trying to figure out what the heck I did all day. Let's see... woke up at around ten, checked up on Mom, made brekky for us, drank coffee, wrote a blog on my other site, read the Sunday paper, drank a beer and read a magazine out on the patio, did some grocery shopping, made dinner, and thought about what to do with my hair tomorrow.

I really don't like Sundays, they create a sense of angst inside of me that I can't quite explain. Perhaps it's knowing that I'll have to get up at 5:15 the next morning after sleeping in for two days straight. Or maybe it's the quietness of the day. Sunday casts a relaxed hush on the surrounding world, there's no bustle, there's no mail or rush-hour traffic, it's just a quiet time to reflect. That doesn't seem like something I wouldn't enjoy but it is.

Maybe it's because I'm lonely. I really am. And I really feel it on Sundays. It's this palpable and very tangible loneliness that consumes me on Sundays when I can't rush around at work or the shops or whatever it is I do on the other six days of the week. Even though I'm away from The Fiance every day, there is no other day that I feel more alone than Sunday.

Saturday, the 13th

That's just a pic of what I look like right now, as I'm writing this blog. Hair's gettin' long, eh? Thinking about going back to dark brown now that Autumn is almost upon us. Do you know what else is upon us? Mine and The Fiancé's 11-month! And the latest is that we chose a date for the wedding, (March 31st) and then decided to push it back to another date, farther into the new year. I mean, we just want to spend some time enjoying our engagement. Do you know that we have only spent one full day in each other's presence as an engaged couple? Just one day?! We'd also like to get in some premarital counseling. I read in an issue of Oprah Magazine (not Gospel but not too far from it) that a big mistake married couples make is running to counseling once the going gets rough. Not a good idea. It turns out that counseling serves couples best as a proactive tool rather than as a reactive tool. Much like a doctor's visit, it's good to get a check up every now and then and possibly prevent a problem in the future rather than just going when you notice something's not feeling right. Anyway, he thinks it's a good idea and so do I.

Perhaps I've been thinking about this idea of engagement all wrong. Instead of making all the wedding plans and adding all that stress to the relationship, an engagement can just be a beautiful mutual acknowledgement that we have both found the person with whom we wish to spend the rest of our lives. Everything else (dresses, tuxes, flower arrangements, and seating plans) all fall second to that fact. I'm starting to feel consumed by my yearning to be by his side.

Sometimes, when one becomes part of a couple, one loses him or herself in the unit. "I" and "Me" gives way to "Us" and "We". When the couple separates or breaks up, that person must rediscover him or herself. A while ago, I experienced exactly that. The relationship I was in had a personality all its own, my ex's personality. I consented and became the passive, silent partner in that relationship and, once we broke up, I spent a lot of time alone working on rediscovering myself.

One thing I have come to value most about my present relationship is that who I am is embraced and loved and soooo appreciated. I feel supported and accepted and it's lovely to not have to be someone else. I haven't really had to do much soul searching since being separated from him, because he lets me be myself. Wonderful. I'm just happier with him than without him and that's the simple truth of it. Loving him is so easy. I thought relationships were supposed to be a lot of work because that's how they always used to be, but he's just so easy to be with. It's pleasure doing things for him. Alright, I'm done gushing. Happy Eleventh Month, Darling! Okay, now I'm done.

Two Sides

He left and shocked everyone.
His things were packed and the condo in the desert was rented and waiting.
"Selfish," we all said. "Impulsive, stubborn, and stupid."
"It wasn't right," was all he would say.
And for four years we filled the world with jealous curses.


But on one afternoon, in one diner, at one tiny table, he shared his side.
"Infidelity, rage, jealousy," he said. "Shattered love, life, and trust."
The world hushed and listened.
"Understand, okay, forgiveness," I replied. "It wasn't right."

And the jealous curses ceased.


I love you, Dad.

The Boy Best Friend

I'm wondering if people of the opposite sex, in the same age group, can just have a getting-to-know-you chat without it meaning anything romantic.

I read somewhere that women end to dislike other women whose friends are mostly male. For some reason, it creates feelings of mistrust in relationships. Case in point, my beloved sister has been on both sides of this bench. She's been the girl best friend: a little sister type to a few male friends of hers and she's also been (and currently is) the serious girlfriend of the guy whose best friend is female.

I can understand why she would be wary in her present situation. The female best friend has been in the guy's life longer, they share inside jokes and mutual contacts, and while the girl in my sis' position has to earn the guy's trust, the female friend has already earned it and might actually be able to call some shots based squarely upon it. She's already on the tenth floor of the building while my sis has just found the correct address.

And also, there's the "Plan B" notion that some girls make friends with men by accident: while trying to prove herself romantically compatible with the guy, she ends up falling into the dreaded "little sister" position and simply becomes "one of the boys". Can you imagine her turmoil as she is forced to stand by and observe her guy best friend date woman after woman? A lot of times, women in this position use spite and the male's trust as their ally and whisper things in the guy's ear that may complicate the his romantic relationship. Ever happened to you?

With all of this said and considered, being the female best friend does have its perks. The people of my gender can be, well, quite dramatic, difficult, gossips, and other things I find I can do without. I should know, I have a tendency to be all of those aforementioned things. As a long-standing member of the "Best female friend to a male" Club, I've gotta say that the friendships with men require a lot less effort than those with fellow females.

As of right now, my best friend is my fiancé. Awww, I know it's sweet. Currently, the position for my best platonic friend is considering seeking applicants. I made really good friends with a couple of girls when I first came back to Cali, but those friendships turned boring and sour (and quite catty if I do say so myself) and ended as swiftly as they began. Ever since high school, my best friend has been male, I'm not sure why. No, it's not the "Plan B" thing. It's more like we belonged to a group of friends and then just started hanging out platonically one-on-one. Romance was never an issue. Until now...

One of the personal trainers at the gym struck up a conversation with me while I was refilling my water bottle at the drinking fountain. Apparently he read my name on the computer when he checked me in earlier. We chatted, he's into kickboxing and...um... personal training??? I don't even remember. Now, I don't want to sound naive, but do people just chat anymore? I mean, with no sexual inclinations whatsoever? I'm wondering if people of the opposite sex, in the same age group, can just have a getting-to-know-you chat without it meaning anything romantic.

No guy is in the market for a female best friend who happens to be in a loving and trusting relationship... unless he's gay. Which is fine. My last two best guy friends are gay, and I love them dearly. But I can't just be on the prowl for fun gay men needing a female confidant. And the thing that irks me is that there is no way to just try to get to know someone of the opposite sex without looking like some kind of skanky flirt. And the guy will get the wrong idea that you're interested if you try. Nope, there's no way. There is simply no way to have a good, straight, friend of the opposite sex unless you've known each other since your diaper-days.

Well, I suppose it doesn't matter much, anyway. Like I said before, my best friend position is filled and when it comes to the platonic thing? Well, everything in its time, I guess.

Déjà Vu

I'm sitting here at a cafe with my new and expensive Mac, listening to new music on iTunes so I can decided which albums to "steal" off LimeWire. I took a sip of my iced vanilla latte (which was almost as expensive as the computer on which I'm typing) when I was struck with an eerie feeling of déjà vu.

I'm not completely sure of what set it off but I was instantly brought back to late May, 2006, just after I'd graduated with my Bachelor's. I was up north in Eugene, Oregon, sitting in a cafe, drinking something iced and espresso-ish, and writing my first failed attempt at a novel.

Side note: That crappy novel was about a psychiatrist who counseled celebrities. In the story, she ends up falling in love with one of her patients and having a sordid affair that winds up on the covers of all the tabloids, destroying her perfect family and everyone she loves. I couldn't think of a way to make things work out in the end so I never finished it. During that time in Eugene, I was working on preparing my trip to Australia. I was finalising visa and accommodation details and researching the Aussie lifestyle.

As of right now, two years and three months later, I'm sitting in a cafe, finalising my visa details and thinking about my life in Australia. Have things changed? Well, I'm no longer writing that awful novel, my hair is a lot longer, and I'm going back to Australia to marry the fantastic love of my life.

That sensation of déjà vu has me thinking about the inevitable repetition of life. Do you find that life comes around full circle a lot quicker than you thought it would? I guess there are small circles and large ones, like with the radius measured by time? Life and death's circle can be 70+ years and today's déjà vu commemorates a two-year circle??? I dunno, it's confusing now. I thought I had something there. Meanwhile, I can rest assured that although the coffee and cafe are similar enough to cause nostalgia, life now is very different from life two years ago. And hopefully, when the circle comes back around two years from now, I'll be happily married with my husband sipping his iced, espresso-ish drink in the seat next to mine.

Faux Bob

Last night I spent way too much time on YouTube trying to discover some new ways to style my natural hair. Cornrows? Bantu Knots? Twist Outs? The Double-Stranded Twist? It all looks pretty complicated and time-consuming. So I went with the wet-set. I grabbed some hair rollers rolled my hair in small chunks. I felt a bit silly doing this because I was essentially putting curls into an already curly head of hair, but what the hey? It only took between fifteen and twenty minutes.

The next morning, I pulled out the rollers and discovered a head full of huge and soft spiral curls. Pretty nice to wake up to. But the hair was huge! WAY too much volume. So I decided to try out this style where you pin up the long hair in the back and use the layers on top to hide the pinned hair so it had the overall look of a bob-like short haircut. This is what I ended up with:





Pretty nice, huh? Natural ladies, try this style!!!

Back to the Land Down Unda???

Within the last week I've changed my mind a million times. I've rethought my future career goals, my current friendships, and my dreams of a California wedding along with many other things and I've made a few decisions... I think.

I might go back to Australia. This distance is killing me! The fiancé and I are still going strong and are very much in love, nothing's changed there, if anything, our feelings for each other have grown stronger. I just miss him so much, I can't describe the empty loneliness I feel. It's like after a million bad dates, failed relationships, and poor choices, finally finding that one person who is absolutely right for you and then being taken away from them. Well it's not like that. It is that. So we made plans for him to come here and it's taking forever for immigration to pass the initial petition so he can apply for his fiancé visa so we can be together. The whole process for him to come here should take between four and six months which is a long time to be away from someone you love. But then something came up and The Fiancé has been offered an excellent employment opportunity that he would kinda be foolish to pass up. But I can't go back to Australia for another three years! (I'm restricted because I was unlawful with my student visa and waited too long to renew it and all that.)

Well, at least I thought I couldn't go back to Australia for three years. It turns out that I can appeal the three-year non-re-entry restriction if I have compelling and compassionate reasoning for my unlawfulness. Well, alright then. After I was assaulted last September, I wanted to go home. I failed all of my classes that semester and found it difficult to focus on my studies. I didn't have any intentions of staying in Australia for as long as I did, I knew my visa would expire in March '08 and I thought I'd be leaving at that time. But the supportive people I'd met there encouraged me to retake the semester's classes and finish my degree. So I did, and I was a semester behind my graduating class which put me a semester behind my visa expire date. It took a while for me to come up with the extra money to reapply for the visa and when I did have the funds, I found out I'd waited too long to reapply and was forced to leave the country. I guess that's it. Is that compassionate and compelling?

I can appeal the exclusion period and apply for a permanent "Prospect of Marriage" visa which means I would have to get married within nine months of landing in Australia and guess how long it takes the Australian embassy to process this visa before it's even approved? Between four and six months. So either way it seems we'll have to wait nearly half a year to be together. Now what? Perhaps we should wait out the U.S. petition for his visa to come here so we can get married? I mean, I've already paid the $455 processing fee. But what about his job opportunity? Should I pay the $1,425 for the permanent visa in Australia and get married there? But what about my family and friends? Why can't there be a happy medium or something? Why must one of us sacrifice everything for the other to be happy? We're both willing to give everything up to be together but why must it always come to that?

Work like an Egyptian

I recently wrote a short post regarding how excited I am about getting all bus-cassed (business-casual) for my new job. I love the professional attire and leaving the house each morning feeling sleek and smart. I, however, hate my new job. So, I guess it doesn't really matter how bus-cassed I am when I'm all dolled up for a job I loathe. Lemme tell you about it.


Why do i hate it? you might ask. Well, first off, I can't tell you how excited I was to get this job. The pay seemed reasonable- nothing spectacular but, hey, it was my first job in the industry, I was at the VERY bottom of the ladder in this job but, hey, you gotta start somewhere and all the training is a great learning experience. This job was offered to me as a prime opportunity to build my confidence, create a great network, and start on a speedy track towards management. Then, throughout the week, things started to be revealed to me. Sketchy things like...

1) My work superiors talking about how much debt they're in with their bank accounts. Their checking accounts are so overdrawn, in fact, that they can't even deposit this week's paycheque because it will fall into the hole of negatives and they won't be able to use the money.

2) The fact that I'm out on the streets every day for at least eight hours, hawking t-shirts and child-protection I.D.'s. And that we're encouraged to sell these items for twice more than their suggested retail price so the promotions company, not the charity who's name is on the shirts, gets the profit. Don't even ask me how much money the charity receives. I still have no idea.

3) One of the top managers of this company is, like, 24 years old and has been working with the company for only a year and a half. Isn't that a bit sketchy?

4) It's only non-commission-based pay for your first week, after that, it will be completely commission-based. This doesn't work at all for me because, as it turns out, I'm a crap salesperson! I remember when I was in high school, selling candy bars to raise money for my yearly choir trip. Mom would have to take the candy bars to work to sell them because I simply could not sell them on my own. Now, I can communicate the hell out of something. I can tell you which products you need, why you should purchase them and why they're such a necessity for your life, even if it's something you clearly don't need. But I can't seem to close the deal. So... no commission for me.

5) The office is kind of a shithole. It's a hole-in-a-wall location with almost no desks, no computers... nothing. It's like they just pick up and move from place to place whenever the cops find out or something. That's not fact, mind you, just my musings.

6) Shoes. I tend to judge a man by the tambour of his voice, the strength of his handshake and the shoes on his feet, then I sum it all up and create a solid first impression. Weird, huh? The other day, a strong Black man (a company manager) boomed into the office and gave us a pep-seminar encouraging us to SELL SELL SELL!!! Before speaking, he approached me, shook my hand, and introduced himself. Alright, I thought. Strong voice, good grip but (looking down), what's this? Dodgy Payless sneakers at least two years old? It would have been fine if I were meeting him on the street, but we were in an office setting and he's telling me how successful he is in this company. Hmmm... something ain't adding up here.

7) The company is ALWAYS hiring. There are never enough people, I'm guessing it's because after a few weeks, people wise-up to the situation and bolt.

So I decided to go online and restart my job search. It wasn't before long that I found another marketing company and applied. They called the next day to set up an interview. How lucky! I thought. Nope, not so much. I went online to get directions to their office and when I Googled their name I found this other website, Rip Off Report.Com displaying an article that a man wrote after attending an interview with this company. Turns out this organisation is a Pyramid scheme too. Are there no legit businesses anymore? What is the best way to find a good, solid, legitimate job?

Freedom

The glare reflecting from the pavement couldn't slow her down, even though she was squinting. And what was squinting anyway? She lives her whole life in a squint: hazy, foggy, never sure if what she's seeing is real or just a figment. Squinting was no problem.

The rattle of the grocery store's mechanical wheelchair on the parking lot pavement caused her entire body to vibrate, massaging her exhausted limbs. The breeze against her face, the sunlight heating her skin, and the quick rise and fall of the occasional speed bump all excited her. Freedom, she decided, squinting straight ahead of her, is this moment.

The moment right before the grocery's checkout attendant caught up with her and she returned the mechanical wheelchair back to the store.

Professional Fashion

One of the best things about my new job at a marketing agency is that a get to wear professional-looking clothing! For the past two years, I've been wearing an all-black uniform and I am so ready to branch out.

Friday was my first day and I felt more than ready in this sweet and stretchy pencil skirt and black tee.


Please disregard the messy state my room was in. At least I was looking like a neat person.

Saturday's outfit is my favourite of the two. How cute is this?


I love it. I got so many compliments on this dress and my legs looked lovely thanks to a pair of tall stiletto Mary Janes.

This has got to be the vainest blog I've ever posted, but I'm so excited about my new job! Wearing cute clothes is just one of the perks.

Dream Job

One of the things about starting fresh is that it gives you a prime opportunity to reassess your goals and search for your dream job. I, however, have no idea of what my dream job is. My Bachelor's degree is in journalism and marketing and my Master's is in Professional Communications and P.R.. So now what?

I'm trying to think about what it is I absolutely LOVE. I love fashion and beauty and fitness (though I don't love working out) and food. I'd like to do fashion P.R. and help create fashion events like runway shows and new brand opening parties. I hope I don't have to be a DimDim Girl to get my start though. I don't want to be a Corona Girl, and Budweiser Girl or anything like that. I've got degrees!

I have an interview on Monday morning and the only thing I'm really nervous about is that I'm going to have to wear a dumb outfit once I get the job and do "street marketing" like the the "club promoters" in their tube tops. I'm practically married, it's just not for me. But if you do that, then more power. No, I'm hoping there is a better path to finding my P.R./ Marketing dream job. Something I can build a strong career out of. We'll see what Monday brings.

Drivin' Mrs. Carey

"You know Xavier just got his license," she stated matter-of-fact-ly.
"Oh really?" I cringed. Oh goodness, my SIXTEEN year old cousin has his license now? Not only am I feeling morbidly old but I am also so far behind in life. How is it that I've travelled across the world, lived in a different continent, received two degrees, found a husband and done a bunch of other stuff, how is it that I forgot to learn to drive along the way? My name is Porscha for crying out loud, driving should be my forte.
You know, Barbara Walters never learned to drive, now she's got, like, twenty chauffeurs. But I'm no Barbara Walters. I want to know what it feels like to just hop in your car and go. I want to complain about gas prices and mileage and really understand what the hell I'm talking about.
So I've set a goal. I will get my license before the end of June. That's it. Wish me luck!!

Long(-ing)-Distance

I am so exhausted right now. After deciding on a date and time for our first official video chat, I patiently waited until 6:30a (California time-zone) and 9:30p (West Australia time-zone) to chat with The Boyfriend (or should I write 'The Fiancé'? Doesn't that sound a bit pretentious? Sidenote: What is it about that word that makes a person sound like they're bragging? See?
That's why I'm trying not to say it that often).

After the hour of configuration (the frustrating time spent trying to connect our computers to each other's web cam and hold a conversation without the software shutting down on us), we finally had a real conversation that felt like he wasn't thousands of miles away. We talked for about three hours last night/ this morning.

Later I realised that all of this technology, this new media, has been created to preserve the long-distance relationship. Think about it, international text messaging, video and audio online chat software, even the simple things like email and personal websites such as this one all benefit the long-distance relationship (which could use all the help it can get). This made me really thankful for the digital world.

This also got me wondering about relationships that are completely Internet-based. Is it really possible to have a successful digital relationship without ever having met in person? One of our friends met a really nice girl from Japan via video chat. The dated digitally for a while and then it just fell apart, I can't remember why. Do we really have to connect physically to have a meaningful and loving relationship? Or is it possible to have a real connection, digitally?

Love-ly

He proposed. I'm in love. We're getting married.

!!!!!!!!!!

Heading Home

I'm officially leaving Australia on Wednesday, May 21st, 2008. Crazy, huh? I haven't set foot on American soil since early July, 2006, almost two years ago.

I Wish Things Weren't So Complicated.
The Boyfriend is staying behind to tie up loose ends. He's finishing projects at work and suffering the U.S. immigration bureaucracy hell while, in the meantime, trying to pack up our apartment and sell all our appliances. I feel bad leaving him with all this junk but I had no choice.

I'M BEING DEPORTED.

Yes, Lovelies, you've heard it here first. Now, you know your Porschie didn't do anything horrendous like inner-city terrorism or drug trafficking, I've just forgotten to renew my student visa and because I've been here without a visa for so long, my only option was to leave the country... immediately.

I sobbed and sobbed when they first told me this. I'd just got a new job a month before this, my thesis research had just been approved, and The Boyfriend and I were really excited about spending our Australian wintertime with a new workout regime (that included salsa lessons!). This has been almost devastating. The worst bit has been the dread I've been feeling, knowing that the day he'll see me off at the international airport is rapidly approaching.

This man has been my support, my best friend, my living journal, my roommate, my comfort and my Love for the last eight months. It's been this way since we first met. I don't want to say good-bye, even if our separation is just for a short while.

So... it's easier for him to obtain a permanent immigrant visa if he's my spouse. That's all I'm saying.

We've planned a holiday for my last few days here in Aussie-land. We're going to MELBOURNE, which is like Australia's New York City.

Since I first came to Australia, I've been longing to go to Melbourne and now, because I'm not allowed to re-enter the country for three years, this seems like the best time to see the east coast.

My 24th Year

So in the midst of all this chaos, I had the audacity to have a birthday. On May 10th of this year, I turned 24. I laid out a bunch of New Year's Goals (not "resolutions", that term never works) and this is them:

1. Learn to save money
   
2. Finish Master's degree
   
3. Write more
   
4. Appreciate my body
   
5. Join a church
   
6. Argue only when necessary
   

There are a lot more things I want to accomplish in my 24th year, but I believe these things are a good start.

Now, I don't want to sound all weird or anything but one of my immediate goals for my 24th year was to read The Secret and see what all the hubbub was about. The other day I was watching The Tyra Show and the topic was about de-cluttering your home. The guest interior decorator on the show mentioned the Law of Attraction and how if we think about clutter and see clutter and continue thinking "oh, I need to clean my house, I need to de-clutter my space" then we'll always live in a state of disorganisation because those thoughts of needing to clean actually continue the cycle of needing to clean. Does that make sense? So anyway, I decided to pick up The Secret (I bought the book about a year ago, read a few pages and then set it down when I noticed the strange looks I was getting from people on the train) and I read it cover to cover... while The Boyfriend was at work so he wouldn't think I was joining a cult or something.

I found this clip of this interview with Oprah on Larry King Live. Check it:


I think she may have something here. Before I came to Australia, I prayed for it, I bought books about Australia, I imagined how my life would be living here, and I thought about it and visualised my Australian life all the time. When I looked at the process of gaining enough money and scheduling flights and (*cough-cough*) visas it seemed impossible, so I made it my priority to focus on the end result: Life in Australia. And somehow everything fell into place and suddenly I was here. I don't even remember how it happened, it just seemed right. Perhaps the Law of Attraction was in affect.

After reading the book, I've become curious about how the world around me works and how I can change my reality. What do you think about the Law of Attraction and all this?

Last year Oprah did a show on The Secret and these are some highlights from the episode:


I'll post some photos and videos from our Melbourne holiday. Take care and I'll see you all soon!

Happiest Moments

I was watching Oprah the other day and she was going on an on about the book Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. The book is all about Elizabeth's personal and spiritual journey in search of inner peace and from the sound of it, this woman had her demons. She was in the midst of a devastating divorce and depression and decided to work on really loving and being a good friend to herself.

She started a new journal and began writing everyday and motivates others to do the same. She says to start the day by writing in your journal "What do you really, really, really want?" and then answer the question. Then write out your mantra (something you repeat to yourself). And at the end of everyday, take note and write out the day's happiest moment. So I've been going for a few days now and this is what I've got so far:

Saturday 19 April 2008

What do I really, really, really want?
To love each other forever

Happiest Moment:
When (The Boyfriend) surprised me by being right behind me when I was on the phone with him. (Silly? I know, but I loved it.)

Mantra:
Nothing I commit myself to can fail. I am beautiful. I am able.


Sunday 20 April 2008

What do I really, really, really want?
To have a beautiful body

Happiest Moment:
Making the girls at work laugh and feeling like part of the team.

Mantra:
Nothing I commit myself to can fail. I am beautiful. I am able.


Monday 21 April 2008

What do I really, really, really want?
To be successful

Happiest Moment:
Falling asleep in (The Boyfriend's) arms.

Mantra:
Nothing I commit myself to can fail. I am beautiful. I am able.


Tuesday 21 April 2008

What do I really, really, really want?
A great job where I feel appreciated.

Happiest Moment:
Hearing Mama laugh while on the phone.

Mantra:
Nothing I commit myself to can fail. I am beautiful. I am able.


Even though I'm only four-days deep into this, looking back and reading my happiest moments is really special to me. So now I'm going to encourage you to take note of your happiest moments each day and to take the time to experience the pleasure of the little things that make each day worth getting out of bed for.

Almost a Quitter

I just almost quit my job.
I just almost walked right up to my manager and said,
"I can't take this anymore. I'm done,"
And walked out.

Instead, of course, I burst into tears
Run and tell someone to watch my section of tables
while I go upstairs to freshen up.

So... I'm still a waitress.
Despite the jerk-off customers
making comments about my ass,
the old ladies who skip out on the bill,
and the bitchy co-workers.

I still work here.

But one day,
and I say this with such affirmation it's frightening,
I will be the one calling the shots in my own life and

I will take orders from NO ONE!!!

Job Searching

I’m still waiting tables. I’m wondering how long ago it was that I decided I wanted to work somewhere else. Two months? Three? The discontentment I have with my job and this job-search has had a direct affect on the way my body looks and the how I view myself.

“So what are the limitations with your visa?”
“I can work part-time while attending classes and full-time when on breaks.”
“Oh, I see. This is a full-time job and we would really need someone here everyday. That seems like it would be a problem for you… Sorry, we’ll keep your resume on file.”
“That’s okay. Thank you for your time.”
Immediately after this conversation, I felt like opening the fridge and eating whatever was available.

Is this why I don’t write anymore? Is this why I don’t care enough to work out? I lie to myself: Tomorrow I’ll wake up early and do Pilates before breakfast. I’ll go for a jog in the evening when it cools off outside, knowing good and well that my running shoes and Pilates mat will continue to collect dust at the back of the closet.

Why can’t it be the other way around? Food offers no comfort at the end of the last swallow; I just look in the mirror and feel worse. Why can’t my frustration manifest itself in my wanting to exercise vigorously? Because that would be anorexia, right? But what’s this, then? Eating for comfort? Aren’t all disorders created equal? Is one better than the next?

I’m sick of seeing a million things I can’t afford. I’m tired of always being late for the rent (and I’m sure The Boyfriend is tired of it too, although he’d never say so). And I’m frustrated with my dusty degree. The Boyfriend assures me that things will be vastly different when we move to the U.S. He believes he’ll be the one slingin’ hash while I’m toting off to a brilliant office job. I’m not so sure. Things are competitive here but I have no idea of what I’m in for once we move back home. I’m just wondering when I’ll start to really feel comfortable and satisfied and I’ve grown impatient in my anticipation.

Does anyone really love their job? Is there any person who can say without a doubt in their mind that they feel absolutely satisfied with their occupation? That the stresses and worries, the pressing deadlines and annoying coworkers, the needy customers and clientele are all a part of the overall joy that is their chosen career?

Presently, I’m considering and reconsidering what I’ve chosen to do with my life. There are a million jobs out there and people are still inventing positions to help end unemployment crises. How can a person decide exactly what it is they want to do with their lives? Perhaps one can narrow it down through a process of elimination, crossing out the things you know you don’t desire from your chosen profession. Meanwhile, as I pull on my old ‘jeans and t-shirt’ uniform and get ready for yet another shift at the neighborhood pub, my mental list of eliminations grows.