Good morning! Been a busy one here, just having shuttled Kerri and my bro-in-law to the commuter ferry and getting the trash and recyclables out to the curb on another dreary, dark day in the Northeast. (Gimme some sun, Mother Nature!) Feelinguseful and productive!
We’re in the throes of March Madness within the throes of a political sh-tstorm within the throes of a world generally gone mad, so in other words, it’s the perfect time to talk about what’s been going on in my own mad, mad world.
So without further ado, let’s have at it…Happy Wednesday!
Actually…first, an endnote 😂😂😂: after finishing this up and before sending it out I want to let you know up front that this is a long one (lots going on) (LOTS!) and to encourage you to be patient with this and me. Grab a coffee. Put your feet up. Pretend it’s a chapter book and read it in chunks. But stick with it if you can. I’d appreciate it. You have until next Thursday to finish it after all. And (SPOILER ALERT) part way through you’ll be “rewarded” with a new playlist you can put on as background music.
What I’m watching…
Since I mentioned March Madness, this seems like a logical starting point—I am watching a lot of basketball. So much that I owe an apology to my sofa cushions which are now very much overdue for a flip and fluff. I’ve said “sports” into my remote so many times I’m gonna need to stock up on AA batteries at BJ’s. But anyway…here are some highlights of my MM-viewing experience as the fields get narrowed down on the way to the Big Dances:
I love that a local college, Holy Cross, won their way into the tourney as a 16 seed. If you’re gonna be a long shot you might as go big—against the GOAT (Caitlin Clark), on her home court. Also, I love this little clip describing the “Caitlin Clark Effect” on the HC coach that I read in The Boston Globe Saturday:
As I wore that very t-shirt (with Air Jordans, no less...I really had to dress the part…same on Monday when IA played again—nailbiter!), while preparing to root for HC, I saw an interview with the coach and her daughters. The girls admitted that CC is their favorite player…but they were in fact wearing HC sweatshirts and their coach-mom lifted one up to prove she was not wearing a CC t-shirt underneath it…confirming that they were, in fact, rooting for HC. Though I have my doubts…I mean, I love a good underdog story, but I kiiiiinda want CC to win a title. 🤣 That said, there is a fine line between “competitive” and “little b-tch” and IMO she is teetering on the line like a flying Wallenda strung between two high rises on a windy day.
How about the Idaho band making sure Yale had some pep in their step and their game (and it worked—what an upset!)? They proudly donned “Y” shirts, learned the fight song, and absolutely had at it. I love this story.
I do not like the University of Kentucky. But my brother-in-law does some work at Oakland University and as it turns out it felt so much better to be rooting for Oakland than “just” rooting against UK. That said, though, you will always find me gleefully (but not often successfully) rooting against the UCONN women. Just because. Geno. Not a fan. Never have been.
And how about my nephew’s old Totland College classmate playing for Kansas and my Mom’s Marco Island neighbor’s nephew playing for Duke? I love these random connections, and I love seeing people who work hard and chase their dreams achieve them. How exciting for these players, to play on that stage? For so many of them, this is how their basketball careers end. What better way to go out?
Can someone explain to me what exactly the women hoopsters do with their shorts? The trend seems to be to jam more fabric up into their compression undergarments with each tick of the shot clock. It makes me so uncomfortable that I put on looser and looser sweatpants as the tourney progresses as a mental offset. Wear shorter shorts? Try a new style? There’s gotta be a better solution. I’m not sure what look they are going for, but I am sure that many of them look like a Depends commercial audition gone awry. Or like they’re aiming to land a starring role in this (gets me every time):
I’m not a fan of Angel Reese. She clearly did a dismissive “bye bye bye” wave in Sunday’s game after a MTU player fouled out. And when she was called on it, rather than own it, she deemed those stories “clickbait.” I call it all “unsportsmanlike.” I was heated about it at the time—so much so that I reported such to Kerri later in the day when they were recapping the game. Let your play speak for itself. Enough with the theatrics.
I miss jump balls. I’d pick them over the possession arrow every time.
The Capital One “That’s What March is For” commercial cracks me up. The cameo by DWar is epic. Wait for it. 🤣
And lastly, if you have reporters covering hoops who aren’t ballers, or who haven’t played in a long time, please don’t make them take a shot on national TV. And if they miss (badly), don’t make them do it again. (I’m talking to you, Al Roker. As if you could have made the shot you goaded Sam Brock into. 🤦♀️ My “Reasons I Loathe Al Roker” list is getting loooooooong.) And then don’t continue to razz them about it the next day. (Yes, I’m talking to you, Al Roker…and Craig Melvin.)
I finished this season of—and here’s the problem with—The Bachelor. It’s great for ratings. It’s mindless TV, provideing a much-needed guilty pleasure. But it’s really really bad for its alleged primary premise, helping the lead find (lasting) love. In fact, how anyone thinks that the show is a good model for that befuddles me. But it makes the so-called “dumbing down of America” make a little more sense. (Guilty as charged.) No spoilers, though I will say this, because it *really* aggravated me Monday night: Joey believed that because he didn’t say, literally, “I love you” to either of the finalists that he didn’t tell either of them that he loved them. I think that—when they say “I’m falling in love with you” and he says “I feel the same way”—that’s a pretty close proxy, particularly in this context, no? And in the after-show Joey said he was ok with telling two women he was falling in love but that only one would get the “I love you.” Huh? Do you fall in love before you love someone now? Kids today. 🤦🏼♀️ Maybe we will revisit the matter in a few weeks. Or maybe I’m overthinking it. The season *just* ended after all, so I could be processing as I type. But one more thing before I go—did anyone else notice that Joey’s always fiddling with his wedding ring finger and has been since the start? Whenever he’s standing facing or waiting for someone, he rubs his left ring finger. Manifesting? OK, one more one more and it’s the absolute last thing—I promise! Juggling the finale with the very close Iowa-West Virginia game was a major challenge. I succeeded though—caught the end of both and didn’t need Dramamine!
Bhanu is the most annoying Survivor contestant in recent history. He goes on and on about being a superfan but appears to never have watched a single episode of the show before. The old Willie Shakes line “methinks the lady doth protest too much” comes to mind. His constant blathering and blabbering and blubbering is oh-so-tiring. Also, begging (and I mean literally dropping to his knees and pleading) doesn’t fall into any of the three core Survivor strategic areas: outplay, outwit, outlast. He plaintively wails, “Honesty has no meaning in this game.” Duh, Bhanu. That’s the point. Superfan my arse. Oy.
Love The Amazing Race mainly because I love seeing the world, kind of. It’s too soon to have a favorite team or a villain team though I am tending to not like the pair who wouldn’t help another team who clearly was lost with so much as a vague “that way.” You’re in it to win it, but no need to be rude.
Grey’s Anatomy and Station 19 just started (2 episodes have aired though I’ve only seen one of each) and I watch because I like a good serial drama and when there’s crossover, more the better. Plus, I’ve been watching Grey’s from the get and can’t quit it.
What I’ve been cooking, eating, and drinking…
We went to a local fave place, Bates, to watch hoops and eat on Saturday. Gotta say the boneless wings are consistently excellent. Always hot, never dried out, and the sweet chili is just spicy enough to get my eyebrows a little sweaty. Also, and I neglected to mention this earlier when I was talking about March Madness…I’m in 55th place in the Survivor Pool (out of 99 remaining and 373 total/original entries). I didn’t take any big risks up front so may be painted into a corner going forward. Nonetheless it’s fun to play. Miss the olden days when I had an in-person job with an office bracket pool, but so it goes. At this point I’d take pretty much any job.
Got tipped off to this Easy Italian Wedding Soup by my sister and it will be a mainstay in the rotation during the cooler months. It was exceptionally tasty. Not “no time, no brainer” easy but also not hard by any definition.
Now that I am officially (per Ancestry.com) 42% Irish, I go all in on St. Patrick’s Day. This year involved Irish Beef & Guinness Stew on Saturday and Corned Beef & Cabbage on Sunday. Both days involved this Chocolate Guinness Cake, which is our house favorite chocolate cake (though I have yet to make it without it suffering from a small divot in the center, no matter what I do—no negative impact on flavor and it holds a little extra frosting, so I’m cool with that, but still...why???) Every year when I boil corned beef, I think of my dad…he loved corned beef and cabbage and he always made it when we were growing up. So one year (turned out to be his last one, so 2014 😔) he and my mom came back from FL after March 17. We had had an amazing boiled dinner that year and I got an extra corned beef so I could make it for him when he got home. I guess the slow cooker was too full because all of the vegetables were undercooked. He kept saying how great it was, but it sucked. And compared to the one we had a few weeks earlier, it *really* sucked. So every year when I’m eating my corned beef, I think of my dad, I miss him a little extra, I remember that story, and I kick myself…he didn’t even get a decent boiled dinner on his way out. 🤦🏼♀️One thing I did not eat this year was our Irish neighbor’s authentic Irish Brown Bread—usually a round of deliciousness gets gifted to us each year around 3/17. This year, no such delivery came. 😔 I best better start being a better neighbor in the hope of reversing the trend. Yes, I could have made my own like I used to, but her bread has positively ruined me.
I had a hankering for one of my favorite dishes, this Roasted Eggplant Parmesan which I am sure I shared before but deserves a re-share because if you like eggplant and haven’t made it yet, well, all I have to say is what in the hell are you waiting for? It’s. So. Good. Speaking of fave dishes, I (well, I prepped it and Kerri cooked it) made another batch of the Instant Pot Chicken Shawarma Rice with Shawarma Garlic Sauce found in this recipe for Chicken Shawarma (which I have not tried), and it did not disappoint. I had a late-ish airport pickup of my niece who was staying at the house between going away for part of Spring Break and going home for the rest of it, so I wanted something that would be ready when we got home, without knowing exactly when we’d be home. This was perfect, and she loved it. (Two helpings, which she definitely would not have eaten just to be polite.)
I’ve also done a good bit of baking in addition to the chocolate cake. I saw, and was intrigued by, this Almond Coconut Cake with Cherries and Pistachios so I almost-immediately got the ingredients for that. I made that for the same dinner with my niece and she immediately requested I send the recipe to her mom/my sis. When I asked her if she wanted a piece in the morning she declined, because she doesn’t like to eat first thing. “Oh, I know,” I said. “I meant did you want a piece to go.” And she readily accepted. It was really good, not too sweet, and would be a very nice addition to a brunch menu. Unless you or your guests have nut allergies, in which case it would be on the ☠️ list. (Hard pass.) Anyway, it was a nice morning treat for both of us given the early wake up for the return trip to the airport <12 hours after retrieving her. An aunt’s work is never done. (I kid—I love the chance to see her, and it was her first sleepover here!) Looking forward to making it again, particularly since I have the “specialty” ingredients it requires.
We were recently craving a sweet (probably because all these sweets beget sweet cravings…duh…) so I whipped up a batch of our favorite brownies, Katharine Hepburn’s, which are really the only brownies worth their salt *if* you like a fudge-y brownie. If you like a dry, cake-y brownie, these probably aren’t your jam. I forego the nuts; they have no place in brownies.
The other day I caught some browning bananas on the counter out of the corner of my eye. A quick NYT recipe search brought me to this Banana Snacking Cake With Salted Caramel Glaze. Beyond, “oh my God” I am not sure what else to say about it. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to confidently say that I made a perfectly textured cake, but holy Jesus, did I ever come close with this one. And the salted caramel glaze? Be prepared to go cross-eyed. This also would be a great add to a brunch menu but honestly, I can’t think of a bad time of day to eat this. Like I feel bad for you if you’re not a fan of bananas. But if you do like them, run to the store and buy some of the brownest ones you can find so you don’t have to wait too long to make it…but the bananas have to be brown, so…patience grasshopper. Hurry up and wait. Also, I am planning on experimenting and using this glaze on the KH Brownies noted above. (I’ll report back if I do it.)
Been snacking on these Whisps Cheese & Pretzel Bites, which are pretty f-cking exquisite as far as snacks go. I saw them at BJ’s marked down from $12 or $13 (for a 10.5 oz. bag…come the f-ck on…ripoff!!!) to $4 (still $$$) but grabbed two bags—two in case they were really good and one wasn’t enough, but not so much inventory that I had to worry about bumping up against the May 6 “best by” date, especially if they were only ok. Of course, they were delicious and of course they are no longer in stock. That’s alright, though. No snack is $13/bag good anyway. Or maybe it is that good but simply just beyond my snack budget at this point in time. 🤷♀️
I’ve gotta wash all this food down with something and for me it’s been my version of the Iced Dirty Chai Latte I first mentioned here, which I make with the Trader Joe’s Chai Latte and a shot of espresso courtesy of the Nespresso, with a bit of milk. Delicious. Every time. During that “I’m 42% Irish” weekend I had a wee bit o’ Guinness (including this Guinness Espresso Martini) and on Sunday when I learned it was National Cocktail Day, I decided to try an Aperol Old Fashioned, which did not disappoint. That said, I’m itching to try this Bourbon Espresso Old Fashioned that I was tipped off to but need to get the timing right—too early is, well, too early…and too late is a date with insomnia. No thanks. And that 19 Crimes Revolutionary Red (Limited Edition) you see in the background of the corned beef pic below was mighty tasty too.
What I’ve been listening to…
We saw The Cher Show about a week and a half ago (probably should have mentioned it earlier when I talked about what I was watching, but anyway) when won $39 tix in the “Lucky Seat” lottery on W and went into the city for a big night out (dinner and a show!) on Friday, and it gave me a new appreciation for Cher and her music. She’s a total badass, and the show was a fun one. I threw together a Cher playlist to listen to on my walk the next day and while I enjoyed it tremendously, I’m not sure the guy in all black smoking the joint outside his apartment complex appreciated my rendition of “Save Up All Your Tears” but so be it. That’s not a song to suffer in silence through. Also I have a softer-than-applesauce soft spot in my heart for “When Love Calls Your Name” and was happy to have an excuse to listen to it. The way I remember it, my younger sister, Mom, Dad, and I were debriefing after a particularly festive (I feel like homemade Irish Cream was involved 🤷♀️) family party, listening to Cher and when that song came on, we had a sing-and-dance-along right there in the living room (for context we weren’t kids—probably both in our 20s). I was really happy that the show triggered me to revisit her catalog and especially to unearth that happy memory.
When the Cher playlist ended, Spotify took over and served me up Dolly Parton’s classic, “9-5.” That got me thinking about the movie (absolute classic) and also about ageism and my current (un)employment experience…which led to me wondering whether ageism played into the plot line of the movie at all. So I did a little research. In 1980, Dolly Parton was 34, Jane Fonda was 43, and Lily Tomlin was 41. So who knows, really? Was it *just* sexism, or was it sexism AND ageism? (And yes, when I saw the movie, I thought they were old. Ahem. I stand corrected. 43 is *very* young. Almost child-like, really.)
You may or may not remember that I’m borderline obsessed with the Netflix limited series, One Day, see here (#20) and here if you’re so inclined to catch up. I’ve been choosing tracks from the show, like “Your Love” by Frankie Knuckles, “Rip it Up” by Orange Juice, and “Bill is Dead” by The Fall to play on Spotify, just to see what new music I might get exposed to, like “On & On” by Longpigs, “Sometimes Always” by The Jesus & Mary Chain, and “Sinnerman - Felix da Housecat’s Heavenly House Mix” by Nina Simone and Felix da Housecat. It’s been a very enjoyable sensory trip.
I also completed work on a One Day (Nicole’s Version) (Music inspired by the Netflix Series and My Lived Experience 1988-2007) playlist. The only “rules” were that I couldn’t duplicate a song from the show and I had to match the number of songs per episode, meaning I had to get the right number of tracks per episode/year-ish. I didn’t try to pattern match, by which I mean I didn’t try to match the number of dance songs or slow songs or old songs or cover songs per episode…I just went with it. The end result is one of coincidental deliberateness. I really was going about it almost subconsciously, picking songs deliberately, guided by the year the episode covered and the number of songs in it, coincidental in where exactly the songs got slotted within each “episode.” At the end, I made some tweaks to the order of the songs or which song I used by which artist for the final (83-track) playlist, with the most notable change being moving Track 2 to Track 1…because bookending the playlist that way just felt right (you’ll see, and you can judge for yourself). I could have worked on this “project” forever in an attempt to get it perfectly “just right” but decided to put a stake in the ground. I took a lesson from the fact that I am still struggling with my (unranked and unfinished) Top 100 Songs list. I have 124 songs on it so far and am pretty sure that list isn’t close to exhaustive, which it needs to be before I start whittling it down. Honestly, I am pretty sure that Top 100 Songs process is the closest I’ll come to feeing like Herb Brooks must have felt when he was trying to finalize the roster for that 1980 Lake Placid Olympics “Miracle on Ice” hockey team. Sheer agony. But anyway, back to this playlist. It was a bit easier because it’s a musical recreation of my soul between 1988-2007 and thus something decidedly more amorphous and open to interpretation than a Top 100 list. This is more representative of something while the Top 100 list is quasi-definitive. So it makes sense that that would be more of a struggle. In any case I’m very happy with this playlist, despite the fact that I kind of wish I had the inclination to dig deeper and find some more obscure songs for it—it would have been fun to dust of some gems in the treasure trove, the hundreds of CDs in the attic. But I started hearing phrases like “diminishing returns” and “return on investment” in my head as I worked and decided that there definitely are better uses of my time. (Like finding a job.) (And does lying on the floor and listening to music while thinking about life constitute doing something?) I also wish I could have found room for three more songs, namely: “Time and Tide” by Basia, “The Sweetest Taboo” by Sade, and either “Satellites,” “The Horses,” or “Chuck E’s in Love” by Rickie Lee Jones. But I didn’t labor over primarily because it would never have gotten done otherwise. (There’s a lesson in there somewhere. And I think it has to do with those diminishing returns/returns on investment that I just mentioned.) Since completing it the other day I’ve listened to it once through, and I adore it. Maybe you’ll like it too, so…drum roll, please…here’s the playlist, my soul between 1988 and 2007, set to music:
What I’ve been reading…
I finished The Winners by Fredrik Backman and if you read Beartown, or Beartown and Us Against You, and if you liked it/them, you must read the final installment (and the second if you haven’t)…the characters get the endings they deserve, in that the loose ends get tied up, not neatly in that they get what they’ve earned or what you as a reader hope for them, but rather in a way that leaves you at peace with how the three-book story ends…if that makes sense.
Started and finished Pageboy, by Elliot Page. I loved Juno…and I was admittedly curious to read this memoir. Although I was warned that it “wasn’t great” I wanted to read the story for myself. The story was fine, kind of…the telling of it was not-so-fine for me, which was why the story was hard to follow. It was too jumpy—I never really felt like I knew where I was in his journey on any given page. There was a lot of stuff that wasn’t adding up for me. Props to him for putting it all out there, but in my opinion there’s a reason he has a primary career as an actor and not as a writer. I’m not judging…there are plenty of reasons why I am unemployed and not an actor or a writer or an anything. (More on that later, when I expect to come across as more than a little bit hypocritical. And if you can’t cut me a bit of slack for that when you come to that part, assuming I remember to talk about it, maybe you can give me a few points for self-awareness.)
Now I’m reading I’m Glad My Mom Died by Jennette McCurdy. I had heard a lot about it but no way (NO WAY) (NO F-CKING WAY!) was I reading a book with a title like that. Karma, people. Karma! Even looking at that book on a shelf or reading a review of it felt like an open invitation to some kind of curse. No, thank you. Then when I asked my mom whether she had read anything good lately, that was one of the ones she mentioned to me. And I know she’s not glad that Springy died, so somehow I felt like I had the permission I needed to put a hold on it at the local library. I’m enjoying it, a lot, even though I have no idea who Jennette McCurdy even is, practically speaking. I mean I know who she is from the book and what I read about her online, but she is not someone whose work intersected with my life prior to now. Anyway, I still feel a bit funny about reading a book with such an awful title but it’s a fun (in a weird way) read and I’m assuming in time the title will prove to be ironic or true or a little of both. But anyway…I haven’t been reading as much as I’d like (went on a real tear in FL) and I’m trying to do a little better.
I’ve also been thinking about a book I haven’t read, Frank Bruno’s Where You Go Is Not Who You’ll Be in which he advocates for not getting caught up in admissions frenzy and status schools and instead focusing on enjoying the college years. He argues that individual worth isn’t tied to which colleges accept or reject you. I’ve been meaning to read it hoping it can help me process my current situation. I went to one of the “best” (allegedly) liberal arts schools in the country…and what did that “get” me? An unparalleled ability to think and process and express what I see and feel and think. An awareness and commitment to the common good. Amazing friends. All great things. And seemingly perpetual unemployment, a big problem. Go figure. Where you go is a single piece in a very complicated identity and success puzzle. There’s so much more to it. I could probably write a book about that based on my experience alone. But first let me ponder a bit more and maybe read the book that is perpetuating this line of wondering.
Other stuff I’ve been doing/thinking about/etc.
Walking with and really enjoying the new Air Pod Pros (first discussed here, see #21). I love the noise-cancelling feature at Planet Fitness but equally love the transparency mode when I am walking, for the interesting listening experience it offers…it simultaneously blocks out and lets in the real world while also allowing me to live an alternate/adjusted/amped up reality by playing my tunes with crystal clarity. My extreme worry that the recent high winds will blow them out of my ears (and most likely while I’m walking over or in proximity to a storm drain, of course) persists, though the other day in my extreme distraction I took an extreme wipeout—but not so extreme that either Air Pod became dislodged or the fall detection on my watch called 9-1-1. So there’s that. Hard fall, hard lesson, but now less residual worry. Though on windy walks I still cover my ears often and avoid storm drains always. Just in case. Speaking of walks, I wish I had done better recordkeeping since the start of the year regarding miles on my car and miles on my sneakers. I suspect that I’ve walked more than I have driven and am not sure whether that is admirable or pathetic.
Not to brag…but…I recently saved 65% on groceries at Shaw’s. Mm hmm. (Oh, who am I kidding? That’s a total, unapologetic brag. 🤣)
And in a wake-up call that I needed to remind me to be a bit nicer, I cussed at Alexa the other night when she didn’t understand one of my normal but polite commands, “Alexa, please turn the bedroom lights on high.” All of a sudden she doesn’t know what “on high” means? And don’t suggest that I say 100% either, because that also didn’t work. #firstworldproblems
Something fun I’ve been following is the BacontoPayson hashtag exploits of a bunch of high school kids in Utah. Summary version: The movie Footloose was filmed in part at their high school 40 years ago, and the student body is moving to a new school after this school year, and this one will be torn down. For two years they have been pulling out all the stops to get Kevin Bacon to the original Payson High’s last prom. What a full-circle moment. Who needed another reason to love Kevin Bacon? Mark April 20th on your calendars, and LET’S DANCE! Here’s a clip that sums it up, but Google it if you want more details of this feel-great story!
And of course I had been keeping one eye open looking for Kate Middleton whilst the PoW was missing. Sinister theories abounded—the PoW was a POW…or worse. Some of them were more salacious. Infidelity. Children out of wedlock. While entertaining some of the more salacious spins on her whereabouts was mildly entertaining, the tailspin this threw world pop culture into was out of control. And alarming. Private details are private, and I do believe that even royals are entitled to their privacy…BUT I also believe they have a duty to provide some level of info to the public as well. It’s not unlike the whole recent “Where did Maura Healy go for those four days in February?” controversy here in MA. I think she needs to report being out of state (she did), I think she needs to share details with her inner circle (she did), and I think she needs to be accessible 24/7 (she was). Beyond that, where she is and with whom is not my business. In terms of the “Where’s Kate” hullabaloo, I think some general statement of ok-ness would have been better than Photoshopped images and body doubles. Sometimes silence is not golden, and as the OG Queen (QE2) is alleged to have said, “you have to be seen to be believed.” In general, there’s a huge lesson here about media manipulation and “facts.” Also, I wish we could collectively pay so much attention to sh-t that actually matters, like why the f-ck is the Cheeto selling bibles??? Lastly, I send healing vibes not just to the PoW but also to the KoE and to everyone else who suffering in the grasp of this dreadful, insidious, unforgiving disease that does not discriminate and knows no bounds. And to all the caretakers, I send vibes of support and appreciation. (Been there, done that. Heart-wrenching.) Cuck fancer.
Sound the nerd alert. Heard that the local library was giving away eclipse glasses—while supplies last—so I hustled my a$$ to the main branch and picked these beauties up. Mother Nature better cooperate on April 8th.
I’ve also given up networking in order to focus on something much easier for, meaningful to, and gratifying to me—connecting. The meaning of two might seem synonymous, but the intent of the two is substantively and exceedingly different. Networking is a thinly veiled social attempt to curry some professional favor. The ulterior motive is like the elephant in the room—obvious but not directly addressed. So awkward. So uncomfortable. I applied the Marie Kondo test to networking and asked myself “does it bring you joy?” “NO!” I screamed to myself in reply, and that was that. No more networking. That said, interaction is important and I know I need other people and assistance on my journey, whatever that is. So I’m focused on meaningful connections that help me process what I’m feeling, to provide alternative or the same perspectives, to consider options, etc., etc. If they end up bearing any professional fruit, that’s a bonus I’ll happily accept. But I know for a fact that I feel better talking to empathetic people who intelligently help me explore how I’m feeling about my life and vice versa. Four recent examples of this come to mind: 1) a call from an old college friend in similar circumstances with an equal interest in happiness above all else; 2) bumping into a guy from the gym at the library when I was picking up those eclipse glasses, having a long and wonderful talk, quickly traversing a number of topics, finding a lot of commonality, sharing phone numbers, and receiving an invitation to a dinner party he is having soon (which sadly I don’t think I can make); 3) a call with an uncle of a college classmate who might have some ideas to help me repackage and repurpose my diverse work experience; and 4) a Zoom call with a college classmate scheduled for later this morning to talk about where we are, how we got here, and how do we get where we want to be if it’s not here. These things? They bring me joy. (And I’ll be honest. When I was in the library and heard an unrecognizable male voice call out “Is that Nicole?” my first thought was “Dammit. Nowhere to hide.” But honestly, I am SO glad I couldn’t hide because it legit made my day—and if I don’t win the lottery, I am quite sure it will be the highlight of the week. Reminder: there’s always more room for good people and new friends in your life.) Also, congrats to whoever in NJ won that whopper last night…I still have one more chance, though. Hope springs eternal.
The thing that’s taken up the lion’s share of my time lately is toying with my next move(s) like a cat who’s just gotten into a secret stash of catnip. I’m going to put my most serious ideas out there now because maybe if I do, I’ll be accountable to them, and maybe generate some momentum. I mean I started this blog to hold myself accountable to myself about writing more and here I am almost 3.5 years and 185 posts later, so…maybe it works? I’m thinking about taking a swing at something formal and hanging a shingle to do some all-purpose consulting work. I’m also thinking about actively considering myself a writer and taking on “writer” as part of my identity. Obviously not (yet?) as a published author, or as a writer who gets paid enough for writing to break even, but still…as a writer…a person who writes. In One Day (it really is all about that show these days, huh?) there’s a scene when Ian matter-of-factly says to Emma, “If you write, you’re a writer.” And it was recently suggested to me that I might be one too, for the same reason. Maybe I need to start thinking of myself that way. 🤷♀️I know that as I stared down my reflection in the digital display of the stationary bike yesterday at Planet Fitness, I tried to picture what that would look like, me thinking of myself as, and acting like, a writer. And I think I might try to figure that out. Which may sound redundant here, as I say it to you in the space where I have been writing for years.🤦🏼♀️
As far as how it’s going otherwise, professionally speaking, well, it’s…you know what? Decide for yourself, based on this recent (Monday) illustrative example, a 100% true story: I had an ok-ish second interview a few weeks ago, for a job that I may or may not have been the right fit for, for a job that may or may not have been the right fit for me. Either way…anyhow, I get the follow-up email, subject line “Thank you,” containing this line: “I'm sorry to convey that we will be able to continue our conversations with you…” Wait, what? You’re sorry to advance my candidacy? Why are you sorry about that? Is the job that bad? Or are you sorry because poor, pitiful me is the best you could do but you had to do advance someone? Nah. I knew. They forgot a word. They were sorry that will NOT be able to continue the convo. Fair enough. But what a big, bad omission, though. As Billy Crystal’s character says in The Princess Bride, “why don’t you give me a paper cut and pour some lemon juice on it?” A few minutes later, another email came through. Subject line of “Thank you - corrected,” with a message which contained, in no uncertain terms, the verbal equivalent of a sledgehammer, or of getting a hand slammed in a car door—crystal clarity that my candidacy with them had reached the end of the road, as life did in fact pour more lemon juice in that gaping paper cut. This story sums up how my job search is going at this time. Conclude as you will.
And I’ll end with one thing I have not been doing—stuffing this ballot box. Not a chance. Does security get any tighter than this??? 😂
Hope your respective worlds aren’t too mad right now, though in any case I’m grateful that you continue to carve time out of whatever degree of madness you’re experiencing to spend some here with me. It means the (mad) world to me. And if you reached the end of this week’s post, I know it took you extra time, and thus I am extra appreciative.
Love you too.
One more ep of One Day to go.... not wanting it to end. But I'll watch it and maybe watch the whole series again. Looking forward to listening to your playlist. Damn -- you have a lot going on and I'm so impressed with your ability to not let the bastards get you down. YOU ARE AWESOME and I'm glad I know you. I'm hoping for a spring-like Wednesday soon when I can reach out to you for that walk at Esker Park. XO