A week of hard(ish) conversations

Remember I started that job that didn't pay well, but it was something in a time where I was desperate?

Well, my last day was Friday.

Pros:

No more waking up at 5:30

No more driving an hour in God-knows-what kind of traffic

No more wearing a suit every day

Cons:

No more paycheck (even if it was teensie weensie)

No, I didn't just up and quit. I thought long and hard about the thought of staying there. I also gained information that I wasn't given in my interview. Information that may have swayed my decision in ever starting. I was finally able to ask my questions and I got a highly disappointing answer. The day I found out that the chance of them paying what I needed was very low, I was completely bummed. Then I had to go to work every day pretending to care when, mentally, I had already checked out.

I remembered during my interview, Holly asked me to be totally honest with her. If I ever got bored, or decided it wasn't for me, to tell her and she'd be happy to find me something else. So I called her on a Thursday right at 5:00 and spilled the beans. It would have been MUCH easier to just leave and never come back and assume they understood why. But I owed it to them to tell them it wasn't where I saw myself in a few years down the road, and that it would never pay me what I needed. I have never in my life sat down a boss and told them that it wasn't going to work. That was hard convo #1.

Once the owner got wind of my leaving, he scheduled a time to sit down and talk to me. So I gave him the same info that I gave Holly. And, bless him, he didn't beg me to stay. Sometimes I get caught up or put on the spot, and I'm too nice and I'll agree to almost anything. But thankfully, he could see that I just wasn't passionate about the company. He was very gracious, and so was I. But it was still hard to look him in the eye and tell him that HIS company, his blood, sweat, and tears, wasn't my calling. That was hard convo #2.

Some other night that week, on my long drive home, I was talking to my boyfriend. He is probably almost as stressed as I am about my lengthy and painful job search. So during the conversation, we both got really stressed out and started taking it out on each other. However, we finally decided to act like adults and share our feelings - stuff we've put off saying (because at times, there is no point in bringing it up when there's no solution). He feels very out of control of the whole situation, as do I. The situation being us having been together over a year, and never having lived in the same area code. He lives in Austin and I live in DFW. Does it make us not want to be together? No. We can't imagine not being together. He said if we have to continue doing this long-distance, then he's in it for the long haul. But wouldn't it be great to not have to schedule a week in advance to see each other? Wouldn't it be amazing to just have dinner together after work? Unwind with a glass of wine together? Cuddle up and watch a movie on a rainy day? HELL YES! We want that!!! So that was hard convo #3.

Now I start from square one tomorrow. I have a list of places I want to call/email/apply. Some in Austin, some here in DFW. My boyfriend was up visiting this weekend, and we had a wonderful weekend together. It really made all the craziness fade into the background. :)

I also want to add A VERY HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my beautiful sister, CJR. She turns the big 3-0 today. I just know that this year is going to be an amazing one for her and her new life with Lobster. Love you guys!

Getting Older and Not-So-Much Wiser

Sooooo.... I want to talk about my birthday that I celebrated 2 weeks back. I turned the big 2-7. Ugh. I really would have been thrilled if we all just stopped counting after 25. 25 was just fine. Can't we just stick with what works?

Maybe part of my beef with turning 27 is the fact that I still easily pass for 19. That, in itself, annoys me to no end.

But I digress....

My boyfriend came up on a Friday night and I made us dinner. Spaghetti.

While I was cooking our spaghetti and waiting on him to arrive, I popped open a bottle of red and played some cheesy Italian music (you know the kind you find in your music channels on tv?). I had my second glass of wine with dinner. No harm done, right? Little did I know, he brought a bottle of tequila and we wanted to try it, so we toasted to my birthday. No, I didn't NEED a shot but I took one anyway. My birthday, dammit.

An hour after dinner, I had a splitting headache. I wrote it off as just being sleepy, so we went to bed. The next morning I unwilling got my butt out of bed and baked us some blueberry muffins, feeling like crap the whole time but trying not to be grumpy because I really like to be a good hostess when he's here.

Fast forward a few hours. I still feel like hell, but we have a big night planned for my birthday that night. He got us a hotel room downtown so that we could have a great time and not worry about driving home that night. A very nice surprise :) But instead of getting dolled up as I would normally do, I put on a track suit and dragged my disheveled and unshowered self out the door and he drove us downtown to our hotel.

20 minutes into our drive, I come THIS close to losing my muffins all over the car. But, I make it to the hotel and we check in and I sit on the bed holding my upset tummy. Fun date I am.

Fast forward an hour. My man goes on a wild goose chase to find me some Alka-Seltzer, which ended up being about a 3 block walk down the street from our hotel. I take the Alka-Seltzer and luckily it really helps. So then I finally get showered and dressed and hit my favorite outdoor bar. Whoo!

I promised myself I would have a good time no matter how I felt. So I had a few drinks at my favorite bar. Then more people started showing up and things got a bit more silly. Perfect! :) By then I've had about 4 drinks. Nothing crazy, nothing unusual, but enough to feel it. As people started leaving, he and I left with another couple who took us to 2 more bars, where (apparently) I had a Red Bull & vodka drink at each bar. No biggie. Nothing horribly unusual.

Next thing I know, I wake up in my hotel bed and have ZERO recollection of anything past the piano bar. Yikes. I'm ashamed to admit that because I don't think it's safe or normal. Thank God I was with my boyfriend, who I trust completely to take care of me. And he did.

(side note: I NEVER get sick after drinking. The worst I ever experience is a headache and/or dehydration.)

After my boyfriend explains to me what I "missed" last night, I roll my happy, hung-over butt out of bed and go throw up. I do that three more times in the hotel. Then we leave the hotel, and I throw up twice in my brand new car.

Awesome.

My parents had my cake and presents ready and awaiting my arrival and it was all I could do to not throw up on all of it. I put on a smile for b-day pictures, but in my head I was just repeating, "Please don't puke, please don't puke..." But I successfully blew out my candles and everyone gobbled up the world's yummiest cake. Everyone but me. (Waaahhh!!)

My point of this way-too-long story is that:

a) I am an idiot who drank too much on her 27th birthday, OR

b) I was already sick to begin with, and drinking didn't help, OR

c) All of the above

Happy 25th....er....27th to me! My goal for this year: Don't be an idiot ;)

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

Let's start with the bad and the ugly, shall we?

I'm STILL unemployed. It has now been a long 2 months and 6 days. I have not only called The Boss Man on an (almost) weekly basis, but I have also applied for jobs on my side of Texas and on my boyfriend's side of Texas. Yes, we have sides. I have yet to receive ONE call or email back from a real job prospect. When I say "real" it's because I have received a crapola response back from a scam artist. (Note: Never do business via e-mail with someone who claims to be in Australia, wants to have a strictly online business relationship, wants you to go purchase goodies for the orphanage he sponsors, and claimed he loved your resume when you never sent him one.)

I'm now at the point of dipping into my savings that I was saving for bigger and better things than just paying my bills, but whatever.

Enough depressing stuff. Time for the good!!

Today is my dad's birthday! Hooray! 'Tis also the month of many birthdays, including mine and my aunt's! November babies ROCK!

Another good thing: We attended another fun Halloween costume party this year, as usual. I dressed as Daisy Duke, my man was (you'll never guess) a banana. Many jokes stemmed from his random costume choice. We also had wolverine, a couple of sexy pirates, a witch, Dr. Acula, a killer bee (a big letter "B" with blood all over him), and a few other costumes I paid no attention to. All and all, it was a good time.

More good news, you say? But of course!

I played golf for my very first time on Sunday. It's quite the accomplishment. You have no idea.

My dad is an avid (and pretty much obsessive) golfer. My boyfriend loves to golf and doesn't get to do it often, so when he's in town, he tries to play golf with my dad. This time, the boys invited my mom and I to join them. "Of course we want to ride along!" I said. But what they meant was that they wanted us to PLAY along. Have they lost their marbles?

"What??!!! Oh no, you don't want that." I say.

Then I ran down a list of excuses as to why that was a huge mistake on their part:

We'll slow you down.

I may injure someone with a bad shot.

I may injure myself with a bad shot.

You guys will laugh at me.

I have nothing to wear.

I may be so talented that I embarrass the two of you.

My resistance was futile, so my mom and I ended up playing the front nine with them. It was a painfully slow front nine. I will say I had a few good shots, and a few hundred terrible shots. I am proud of myself for getting out and playing though, because it's the only way to learn. I have a feeling there will be a lot more golfing in my future and I'd like to be able to play alongside the men in my life.

Ok, time to go try to be productive. Peace out, Bloggies!