T.Hanks

My friend Erin always said that life goes in circles. Sometimes you’re at the top, sometimes you’re at the bottom.

This was right after college, when everyone was at the bottom of their circles. Because, let’s face it, immediately post-college is a black hole of suckiness. Sorry, Hannah. But her point was to look up, because eventually you'll be at the top again. You can’t stay in the Pit Of Despair forever.

I’ve just come up from the bottom and I’m sitting at the top of a really big circle. It might be my first authentic Top Of The Circle moment. I’ve got a job that I love which keeps my writing chops honed, I have a boy so amazing that he secretly signed me up for an all-day “Television Puppetry” class taught by a Muppeteer, and I’m living in a city with endless possibilities for entertainment. I have real, actual hobbies that aren’t “hanging out with friends” and “drinking” (although I still enjoy both of those greatly) and I have a cat whose favorite pastime is cuddling…immediately after pooping. Hey, you can’t have everything.

I’m sure I won’t be at the top of this circle forever. Call it pessimism or realism, but if the circle theory is correct, eventually you have to dip back down. So while I’m still up here, I want to enjoy it as best as I can. And part of that is going to be letting go of the blog, at least for now. Posts usually take me an hour at best--the good ones much longer--and I want to give over that time to other things, like fostering my relationship with Joe, enjoying the city and the sunlight, and using my writing energy to help my work become a thriving business.

So I want to say thank you to everyone who followed along, whether loudly or quietly. This blog is literally why I’m in the good place I’m in now, and you forced me to stay at it. Don’t be surprised to see blog posts pop up now and then, and maybe in full force again one day. For now, I'll just say: see you later.

To Those Who Made Me Feel Worthless:

To those who laid me off,

To those who threw me under the bus during meetings,

To those who ignored second and third emails,

To those who underpaid me,

To those who insinuated that I don't work hard,

To those who wouldn't help when they could have,

To those who said I wasn't good enough,

To those who couldn't see my value,


I kindly invite you to SUCK IT. Because I'm hired full-time for a kick-ass job and it's BETTER THAN YOURS.

The New Job

Facts about what I'm doing here:

1. I am very superstitious about jinxing things, so I need to clarify that this is technically contract-to-hire, so I don't have a full time job YET. Also, time goes slowly when you are living paycheck to paycheck. Regina's cat's breath is out of control, and I really need to make enough money to get her to the vet.

2. It's a start up company that makes a very cool mobile app. That's all I'll say about it, but also you probably have not heard of it--YET. It was started last summer and I am the 11th employee, I think.

3. We get free lunch every day. And free snacks. And free beverages. So...basically it's the best place ever. Also, I think I may be addicted to sparkling water now. You guys may need to form an intervention soon.

4. OH! I haven't actually told you what I'm doing here! So I'm their writer. Like, their only writer. So I'm in charge of the brand voice, wherever they need it. And hopefully soon, I'll be writing a blog for them, and taking charge of their Facebook and Twitter posts. Which will be fun while it's happening, and when it's over (hopefully not for a long time) I'll have something really concrete on my resume that will make me stand out.

5. The company doesn't have a front desk or anyone in an administrative role. My desk is kind of the closest thing to being that front desk, because it faces people walking in. So now I have also become the person who signs for packages and greets people who look scared. I absolutely don't mind it, because distractions are my lifeblood. When I write, I am absolutely the dog from "Up". Except instead of "SQUIRREL!" it's: "FACEBOOK!"

6. The hours are a little different here. No one comes in until 10:30, but they stay later. Which means I probably will have to start working out in the morning. I was really excited about the idea until this morning when I actually attempted to do it. And by "attempted" I mean, I turned off the alarm and spent 45 minutes making excuses about why I couldn't POSSIBLY get out of bed, by which time it was too late to go work out. PROBLEM SOLVED.

7. SPEAKING of early mornings! This has nothing to do with the job, but last night Joe and I were woken up because a parked pick up truck outside our window was blaring its horn non-stop with no one in it. The fire department showed up after about 4 seconds (They're just down the street. Good to know.) Apparently there was a fire under the truck. They put that out with the hose, then broke into the car, popped the hood, and stopped the horn. Joe and I watched this from our 4th story apartment with intrique and annoyance. Mostly, I was relieved that we didn't die, because we SO COULD HAVE. The way I see it: fire under the car, fire travels to the engine, fire + gasoline= EXPLOSION!!, the pieces fly into our window and smash into us. Piece de resistance: Regina escapes out the smashed window.


So, I don't know. Does that cover it? Are there more questions about the job that I haven't answered, or have I told you everything and more?

We'll Have A Brain Fart Time

So I know I promised I'd still be blogging, and I totally am, but I'm having a bit of a brain fart time of it right now. I keep trying to say something insightful about how things are starting to look up, but it gets RULL boring, RULL quick. Either that, or I become one of the people that I hated only a week ago--the people who are too damn happy for their own good and need to quit making the rest of us Normies feel bad.

Side note: I'm SUPER into the non-word "Normies" right now. I'm considering using it until it catches on. It'll be so fetch, just you watch.

So anyway...brain farts and all that. I'm not sure what else to write about at the moment, but I promise I'll be around.

Also, since the Golden Globes were last night, can we talk about Aunt Meryl for a moment? Well, less of talking about her and more just...let's just acknowledge her existence with a moment of silence.

....

Also, Colin Firth. As I tweeted, that man is a dapper son of a bitch. We all know he is on the short list of men I would marry, but despite his growing age and/or jowls, I think he might be climbing to the top of the list, even past Future Husband John Krasinski, who, despite my best efforts, is still married to that damn British chippy.

But let's consider both of these things:







I mean...that's just...come on, now.

Anyway, this is really all I have for now. Quotes from Colin Firth. Sorry. Maybe an update this week about the job and how it's going? OH! Also, Joe and I just bought tickets to see a screening of The Dark Crystal in February and WHO is going to be there? Oh that's right, Dave Goelz--NO BIG DEAL, HANNAH.

Back To It

GAH, sorry I've been so absent. I'm the worst blogger ever. I don't even deserve to get paid to write this thing. Which I don't, so that's fitting.

But guess what, Y'ALL?! (Oh that's right, I said y'all so you know something big is coming.) I actually AM going to be paid to blog! Because I just got a contract-to-hire job offer for a small start-up, and among other things I would blog for them! I wouldn't get to be as nonsensical there as I am here, which, let's face it, is better for all of us. But I do still get to write in a fun voice that has some 'tude. Oh god, I just said 'tude like some kind of teen magazine quiz. I'M A LITTLE OVEREXCITED; NOTHING MAKES SENSE ANYMORE!

So. What does this mean for you? I will tell you. It means that I'll still blog around here, and hopefully still semi-regularly as long as my new work gets done and doesn't drain me of wanting to write anything ever again. Doubtful. I have too many opinions about exfoliating face wash left to share. It also means that I'll have some money to go on adventures, which of course means blogging about awkward interactions with strangers and falling down a lot! The possibilities are ENDLESS!

In conclusion, things are looking up for you and me both. Stay tuned about the face wash. Am I serious? Only time will tell.

Let's Do This.

First things first: the ankle is doing much better. There was a Quasimodo limp going on for a bit, but I'm walking normally now. There's pretty xtreme bruising (no E, that's how bruised it is) but I'll be fine. My first day home, Hannah kept calling me Beth, so I wrapped myself in a blanket and told her that the only gift I wanted for Christmas was for the war to end and father to come home.

But I'm healing. My time in Chicago has been another great vacation from my problems. I needed some time to just be with people I know, in a place I know, without stressing about working. And now I'm ready to get back to it.

It feels like every sentence I utter anymore is: "Once I have a job, I can..." and I'm tired of it. It's been a year since I felt safe enough to spend money and it's wearing me out. I mean, it's not like I want to toss my mink pelt over my shoulder and start ordering people around with my scepter, I just want to buy pure maple syrup without feeling "extravagant".

But it's more than money, too. I don't feel like a productive member of society without a job. Sure, I feel better when I get stuff done. I can exercise and write and clean and basically do ANYTHING besides scroll through Pinterest and Tumblr (Oh, Tumblr...your Parks and Rec gifs are so hard to turn away from). And I'll feel like at least there was something to define my day, to prove that I was here and I helped.

So I'm ready to go back. I'm actually still in Chicago right now, back in SF late on Wednesday night. At first I imagined myself leaving Chicago kicking and screaming (or at least slightly tearfully) just because I was so happy to be back with everyone and didn't want to leave them again. But now I'm ready. I'm ready to actually get this thing started FOR REALZ. The last few months laid the groundwork. I've made connections, I've interviewed, I've figured out a lot about where I want my next steps to fall. I just need that final leap to an offer. That way I can start the rest--the adventures, the extracurricular classes, the pure maple syrup--that will complete the circle of why I went in the first place.

Word-Of-Mouth

Everyone has their brands. Things they will fight to the death over. I had a professor in college who WOULD NOT SHUT UP about Viva paper towels. Christ, lady.

Do I care about paper towels? No. In fact, I don't care about most brands. You know why? Because I majored in Advertising. And I took class after class telling me that all products are essentially the same. The only difference is what you, the advertiser, has to say about it. I've made myself feel not-evil about this fact by blaming the products themselves. Look, is it MY fault that Crest and Colgate both exist and have each created roughly 4 million kinds of toothpaste? No. It's not my fault. It is their fault. It is just my job to help them sell all their ridiculously similar products.

But I have some brands. In fact, during one of these all-products-are-the-same lectures I actually raised my hand to defend a brand. It was an enormous lecture hall. 300 kids all wanting to go home and nurse their hangovers. And I raised my hand because sometimes I'm THAT GIRL. "Yeah, but not ALL products are exactly the same. I bought the Meijer-brand Wheat Thins once and they were CRAP."

And 300 kids turned toward me and threw things.

No, not really. But there was SERIOUS groaning. WHAT?! YEAH, I SAID IT. BRAND-NAME WHEAT THINS ARE IMPORTANT TO ME, DUDES.

So I agree and disagree with Marketing professionals on this one. Yeah, some products are the same. My Pharmacist/mother never buys a brand-name pill if she can help it. So many times I've uttered the phrase "Aleve? Which one is Aleve? Do you mean ibuprofen?" And then again, sometimes a sista HAS TO HAVE HER WHEAT. THINS.

So I've created a list of the products I stand behind. Not all of them, just a nice sampling. But after you see mine, I'd love to know: what brand names do you get behind?


Fiber Plus: Cinnamon Oat Crunch


Love cinnamon toast crunch but feel like a pre-diabetic child when you buy it? Love Cheerios but wish they had a little somethin' somethin'? THIS. Don't let the healthy-sounding name or terrible packaging fool you. This product is cinnamon deliciousness for adults. Less sugar, more fiber, all the special feelings in your belly.

Special K: Protein Plus


So I'm starting off here with two cereals, yes, but they are so clearly aMAHzing. This one is absolutely the best cereal for keeping you full. It's a little bran-y so drop a few raisins in there to kick it up a notch. And then don't expect to need anything until lunch.

Laughing Cow wedges


If you are a cream cheese lover as I am, this is where you need to aim your priorities. Such a great healthy alternative, and delicious with pretzels. Also, surprisingly, carrots.

L'Oreal Collagen Filler/Eye Illuminator


I have genetic dark circles under my eyes. This stuff is great because it brightens your eyes and makes wrinkles go away (when it's on, not permanently [wah wahh].) And I don't want to hear, "Oh, Emily. You're too young to worry about wrinkles." Because I will say this to you in my best Ross impression: "AM I?!"

Johnsonville chicken sausage


If you like spiced meats filled with cheese, please go and buy these immediately. They are DELICIOUS. And probably slightly healthier for you than something made of pork. Personally, I like them by themselves on a bun with some ketchup and/or mustard. Also, everyone be proud of me for not saying "that's what she said" a SINGLE time for this one.

Clean & Clear Advantage Spot Treatment


I've been using this stuff for a very long time. Is it fair that I now use a wrinkle cream AND zit cream? No. But it is a fact of life. I've learned to deal with it, SO SHOULD YOU. Because if there's ever a time when I don't need to use this stuff, I will probably be forcing my children to use it, and then they will force their children use it. Here's why it's awesome: it's salicylic acid, which doesn't dry out your skin, leave white marks, or bleach your clothes like benzol peroxide (coughPROACTIVcough) does. Also, it works better anyway.

Tupperware FridgeSmart Containers


These things are containers sent by the Lord Himself. Also Allah. Possibly Zeus. Maybe all the gods got together and were like, "You know, we've been kinda hard on them lately. Maybe we can give them a little something nice." And they sent these Tupperware containers. An oversell? Absolutely. But czech it out: They're made especially to keep fruits and vegetables longer, and I can personally vouch that they work wonders, especially for peppers. In a regular container, peppers last for maybe 3 days tops? In these containers, you can keep peppers perfectly fresh and crisp for at least a week, probably 2. Also, I had a lemon in one once. Found it in the back of the fridge so y'all KNOW that can't be good. Opened it up expecting it to look like Mel Gibson's mugshot, but it was perfectly good! Had it with a beer. (Sidenote, probably don't try this at home, kids. I might have died.)

So like I said before, lay it on me. What products do you stand behind? Share the love!

Devolving

I feel like I'm really bad at blogging lately.

The problem is, my mind is filled 100% with finding a job in--and moving to--San Francisco. There just isn't room for anything else. I want to give you awesome anecdotes about the crazy stories of my life (and what crazy stories they are, my stars), but as soon as I sit down to write about something it quickly devolves into a breakdown. Something like:

This weekend I went to a party called "Spuds 'N Suds" where everyone had to bring a potato dish and beer. I brought sweet potatoes because I wanted practice for when I make them in DC for Thanksgiving with Joe's family. I'll be flying there from San Francisco. I'm moving to San Francisco. I don't have a job in San Francisco yet. I'M NEVER GOING TO FIND A JOB BECAUSE I'M USELESS AND LAME AND EVERYONE HATES ME AND I'M NOT CREATIVE AND I NEVER HAVE GOOD IDEAS AND I MIGHT AS WELL JUST GET A JOB STUFFING ENVELOPES AND LIVING IN JOLIET BECAUSE NOTHING WILL EVER BE GOOD AGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIN.

See what I mean? It's pretty bad.

I'd like to think I'm getting a little better each day, though. Surrounding myself with positive thinking and helpful lists and fun-sounding back-up plans. Seriously, here's what I'm thinking: if no advertising agency wants to hire me (BREATHE, EMILY. STAY WITH US. WE LOVE YOU.) I'm going to give it a few months(?) and then get a job as a secretary so I can (just barely) pay for rent and food, then I'm going to take stand-up classes and improv classes and spend my free time writing sketches and spec scripts.

I think it's a stellar back-up, in my opinion. Besides the fact that is still leads to me never saving up money, maybe one day I will be rolling in it after working on TREAT YO SELF: The Donna/Tom spin-off show and THEN I'll finally be able to buy luxurious things like a car and socks and dental insurance. One can dream.

Everyone's A Little Bit Famous

When I was young, I wanted to be a Muppeteer. Then I vaguely wanted to be an actress. Vague because it was the 7th grade and I couldn’t be bothered to really focus on an occupation when no one had even had the decency to kiss me yet. Finally I landed on ad writing and that was the end of that.

The cornerstone of all three professions is my being famous. Copywriting on a much smaller scale, of course. But eventually I’d make an ad that everyone saw. Or that was the goal.

I think this may be a Generation Y complex. Adults told us that we were the best at everything and we deserved to have whatever we wanted. So naturally, if I’m so damn good at...I don’t know, being a human being I guess, then the world should recognize it and make me famous.

I’m ready to admit it, and I think it’s time y’all did, too. It’s why everyone has a blog and a Facebook profile and a Twitter account and a Tumblr and Four Square and on and on and on. We all want to be a little famous. So fine, if it’s 1,000 people on Twitter that see we’re having ketchup for lunch, so be it. It’s still a little famous. You may not be on the cover of InTouch, but at least a few people are listening.

But I always intended on having more listeners than a handful of Twitter followers. I don't need to be a household name, but I do want to make a stadium full of people laugh. I only realized this of myself in the past month or so. And now that I know it, the question is: do I keep going? Do I keep trying to be a little bit famous? Is that the only way for me to be happy?

I've tried to envision a life where I am never famous. Where, outside my family and friends, no one knows a thing about me. I could be a teacher or an editor or a coffee shop owner. I don’t have to write an ad or a book or a screenplay or a TV show or a stand-up routine. I could just be me.

My self-worth would not hinge on the number of original ideas I could come up with. I could just try my best and then be paid for it. No more staring at the ceiling, willing myself to think of something other people will like. It makes so much sense. It seems like such a relaxing life.

And I’m not sure I’ve considered it. Ever.

I think I might be totally happy being anonymous to the world. It’s comforting. For some reason, in that world of anonymity, I drink a lot more tea by the window and cook things with sauces. In the world of trying to be a little bit famous, I chug Maalox and ask people to slap me in the face.

I’m worried that giving up on fame means giving up. It means that I’m officially leaving behind my childhood dream. It’s like when I gave up on being a marine biologist once I realized it involved more than swimming with dolphins. But this time I’m giving up on something I’ve held in my subconscious for 26 years, not the 48 hours when I thought I could get paid to hold onto dorsal fins. What if I turn into one of those people full of regret for not living their dream? I don't want to be the mom who forces her daughter to be a bulimic ballerina because I didn't have the dexterity.

So do I finally let myself ease into a world of relaxed, safe anonymity? Or do I strive, like a Los Angeles barista, to be something more? I don’t know. I do like the idea of not worrying what everyone thinks. What do you think?

And I Feel Fine

Sorry about the lack of blogging 'round these parts lately. I've been in a slump. I basically get halfway through a sentence before I mutter "aw, screw it" and put something from Netflix back on.

The best part about being unemployed is the sheer amount of Hulu Plus and Netflix Instant I am able to fit into my day while still being a functional person. I also spend extra time at the gym and go on extensive walks along the lake, clean my studio (OH MY GOD WHERE HAVE YOU GONE, DISHWASHER?! YOU ARE MY ONLY FRIEND), hang out with people, etc etc. AND STILL. I complete whole television series within a week. It's glorious. Absolutely glorious. Part of the reason I do this, I'm convinced, is because I grew up in a large family and a small house. I hated it at the time and wanted privacy, particularly during the whole "gross I have to wear a bra this is SOOOOO EMBARRASSIIIIIIING" phase. But now it's what I'm used to. I'm used to there being voices and interruptions and people walking in and out and through at any given moment. So brushing my teeth or washing dishes now in complete silence is practically torture. So I have Netflix and Hulu and they are magical. I don't know how I survived before without them. I probably had thoughts. LAME.

Louis CK has this bit where he says he's divorced and when people say "aww" he's all, don't be sorry for me. I was in a terrible marriage and now I'm not. I'm actually happier now than I have been in a decade. You should be applauding for me. (Obviously he says it in a funny way, that's just my boring interpretation.)

That's how I feel about unemployment right now. People ask me what's new and I feel compelled to tell them that I was laid off recently. Because that is honestly what's new. I mean, I totally am the awkward kind of person who might try to not mention it and then end up knee deep in lies about how their job is going which they currently don't even have, but I just don't have the strength for that kind of storytelling. Not for something without dragons and a karate-kicking princess.

So I tell people I'm unemployed and they all have one of two reactions: "Oh, I'm so sorry!" with that pained look on their face, or a totally uncomfortable "Aw jeez I wish I hadn't even asked" *single finger collar pull*.

And I try to explain that it's totally fine. In fact, it's not just fine. It's actually pretty much awesome. I hated what I was doing, every single day I was doing it. And I'm not a 45 year old with kids to feed who'd have an excuse to hate their job, I was just a miserable 26 year old, whittling away the best years she's got. Now I get to actually enjoy the amazing weather we've been having. I go to the gym in the middle of the day and I still have time to come home, shower, and go out. I get to watch absurd amounts of things on the internet. Basically, every day is Saturday for me. I have no family to support, no medical bills to pay off. What I'm saying is, I'm having a kick ass time, despite a downtick in funds. Do not feel sorry for me, do not feel sorry for asking.

Their response to my positive response? "Sure! You WILL be fine! You're young. You'll land on your feet!" they say, consoling me. "....So are you applying for jobs?"

Bah.

Improv Level B

So, as I've said, I've decided to take the next level of improv classes. Despite my horrific showing during the after-class improv pick-up game, I think I'm generally pretty good at it. And I of course mean "Level A good". I'm no Colin Mochrie here, I mean come on.

And really, is anyone?



Oh my god, the majesty of that gif. The majesty.

So anyway, I'm not sure what else to say about it. But people seem to be curious about it so here goes. Second City does a good job of easing you into the situation until suddenly you're creating scenes with people and you had no idea. All of a sudden you're just in the middle of one. What's great is the scenes don't necessarily last very long and no one expects you to be hilarious. There are plenty of scenes where I've gotten a slight pity chuckle and then put out of my misery by the teacher calling "Scene!" And there are times when I feel like I have the scene in the palm of my hand and people are laughing. There was one where I was a gym rat working on my pecs, and another where I was a bored teenager slouched so low in my chair I was almost laying down. Those were both fun. I could have kept doing those scenes all day. Then there was the one where we were nudist paintings and I said nothing except somehow a Lost reference (I don't even know), or one where we were picking out prom dresses and it went absolutely nowhere. I think that's kind of the fun about it--you're not always amazing. I mean, is anyone ever 100% great at what they do? Except, like...Mozart, It's what makes those successes so much sweeter, when you've already failed a bunch of times.

Besides that class, I'm taking another one at a place called Improv Olympic called "Talk Show Portfolio." Basically you learn how to write two-liner jokes, like the ones on Weekend Update or the Tonight Show. Once you take that class you get into Sketch Writing and then Spec Script writing. If you want to be a sitcom writer, you submit a few spec scripts of shows that are already running. That's how Mindy Kaling got her job writing for the Office: she wrote a spec script for Arrested Development. So I'm starting with the joke-learning. Once the class is done, I'll likely be in San Francisco so I can't take the next two from iO, but hopefully there's something comparable if I want to keep going. I just keep telling people, "I don't know exactly what they have in San Francisco, but Robin Williams lives there so there's gotta be something."

I figure it's now or never if I really want to go into another kind of writing in time to be discovered and put on screen next to Tom Hanks before I get all wrinkly and droopy and get typecasted as the school marm. So I'm testing the waters. And maybe I'll know where I stand a little bit better before I move.

Anyway, that's the story with that! I'm sorry this wasn't more funny. It's weird, it's like I can't be funny when I'm talking about being funny. God, I need to quit digging this hole. It's getting steep.

A Love Letter to Advertising

I guess it wasn't love at first site, Advertising. There must have been dozens of cookie and action figure ads...your attempts at capturing my attention that I just let fly past me, unaware you were trying to court me.

No, it wasn't until Tabasco. A man ate a pizza drenched in it. Smiling, he let a mosquito bite him. Then, after flying away for a second, the mosquito exploded. An enormous, tiny explosion. That was when I knew, Advertising. That's when I knew I loved you.

I started following you around with puppy dog eyes, hoping you'd notice me. Little did I know, you were trailing me along with a sly smirk. People told me I'd never have you because only someone who REALLY wanted you could ever catch you. Thing was, I REALLY wanted you.

And I caught you.

Our love blossomed at first. It was my first relationship, though, and it wasn't as easy as I dreamed it would be. But you were good to me. You let me be myself: funny sometimes, or serious when I wanted to be. You showed me you had flaws. And you showed me you had secret bits of perfection, too.

They say when you live through a tragedy together, it can bring you closer. I'm not so sure that's true of you and I. I always try to tell myself that I didn't know Paul that well, but it's hard to recover from something like that when you're still so impressionable.

You hurt me early. And lately I've felt nothing but hurt from you, Advertising. For some reason, it seems I only remember the bad times any more. You've become uninteresting and unreliable. Or am I the one who has become that way? That's the thing about long term relationships: you're never quite sure who's the problem, you just know there is one.

I keep grasping for that first lovestruck feeling I had for you. I miss that version of you. The one that wanted me to be my best. I wanted us to be so simple. To get along so well that we turned heads.

Maybe this break from each other is for the best, Advertising. Maybe we need some time to think. At least I do. I'm not sure where our love is failing, quite. Maybe it's a bit from both of us. Maybe I need to change my attitude, but you could stand to relax, too. I want to become that person again. The one who fell in love with a mosquito.

Until next time,

Emily

Finally, The Truth

Warning: this post is just about my personal life. If you're all, "Boo! Get back to disparaging Johnny Depp!" you can skip this one. May I suggest getting hooked on 2birds1blog?

Okay guys. I have a lot of truth to spill all up on your grill. It might get a little sloppy so I want to apologize in advance. (Also, that's what she said. But that's neither here nor there.)

I've been laid off. And it is totally and completely okay. In fact, it's not just okay. It's good.

Question: Did you write this post the day before you were laid off?
Answer: In fact I did.
Question: Yowza. Are you currently editing this post under the influence of a day's worth of PBR?
Answer: Y'all don't know me.
Question: Did your dinner consist of scavenged garlic fries and congealed nachos?
Answer: LAY OFF ME, I'M STARVING.

Yes. It happened. But in order for you to get the full picture, in the words of the great Lil' John, "Back back back it up."

Here are some life facts, coming at you in waves.

Let's all recall how about this time last year, I was hired full time at an ad agency after a long time of unsteady/no work. I was happy to have the money and dental appointments and treated myself to AN shopping spree at American Eagle. Because, yeah. I'm worth it. About three months later, my account was put up for review. Clearly this had nothing to do with me; it is literally a billion dollar account. So basically I've known since 2010 that my time at this job could be limited. So there's that.

Completely beside this point, I was miserable. I came home every day with a new boiling anger. There were tears. Often. It almost always had to do with interpersonal issues. But the ads I was making weren't making me happy, either. They always came out clunky, cheesy, boring, and once even misogynistic. I didn't know where I was going wrong. I stopped believing that I could even make a good ad. So why didn't I just ask to transfer? Well...

Elsewhere, Joe was in his final year at grad school and was looking for jobs in Chicago, but it wasn't going well. He was getting really down on himself. Somewhere along the way, we decided it would be okay if he started looking at other cities. That's when I wrote this post about potential cities where he had leads.

I figured it was silly of me to raise drama and awkwardness in the office by asking to be moved when Joe and I could have been moving across the country when he graduated in May. Add on the fact that I thought it would look bad to ask to be transferred off an account in review, and there I was, feeling stuck in limbo.

Eventually Joe got the contract job in San Francisco where he is now. What I haven't told you, though, is that the contract job is very likely to become full time. They told him that they had the intention to hire him once the 4 months was up. But since he hasn't signed any papers to that effect, we didn't want to make assumptions and move our lives out there prematurely. But there are tons of great ad agencies out there, so it wouldn't just be a good professional move for Joe, it would be one for me, too. The fly in the ointment was that I still had a full-time job and couldn't just pick up and go.

Well. While I was visiting Joe in San Francisco we found out that my agency lost the account (yes, when you are a billion-dollar company, it takes you 7 months to make a decision of this magnitude.) Which meant that I would probably be let go. So I've known Doomsday was coming for weeks.

I still couldn't mention any of this on the blog or Facebook because (and here's the HUBBA WHA? part) In a way, I wanted to be let go. (HUBBA WHA?! I told you.) What we realized is, if I got laid off then I could collect unemployment. Which means if I moved to San Francisco, I would have a (paltry but existent) income while I looked for work. But if people at work found out I was considering moving, I was afraid I would be denied it somehow. I mean, I don't know, maybe that makes no fiscal sense. I nearly failed BOTH macro- and microeconomics so you shouldn't listen to me. Alls I know is, I didn't want to negatively influence the decision either way. So I zipped my lid.

And in the end, I got let go with the rest of the crowd Tuesday morning and spent the day at the bar down the street. I'm not going to move to SF right away for a few reasons, but the biggest is because I signed up for the next level of improv (and I know I haven't talked about it since the day I complained about my failure, but it's going well and I plan to write about it soon.) and another writing class that I'm really excited about. Both of these classes run through the end of October, which was when we were originally planning the move anyway.

So what all this means:

- I am no longer miserable.
- But I am back to spending as little as possible.
- But I can get unemployment money.
- And I can freelance for different clients.
- It's very possible I will move to San Francisco before the end of the year.
- I will keep blogging from there and I'm sure there will be stories in pictures to be had.
- I can spend some time really considering what I want to do professionally, and figuring out if it's copywriting or some other form of writing/creating where I don't get turned down because my idea is "too funny." (OH IT HAPPENED.)
- Hopefully I will become "unemployed skinny" again, since I can work out all day and afford to eat nothing but air sandwiches.

4 Things I Drew That Were Accidentally Adorable

Bear with me as I give a little explanation about the basic structure of creative advertising, as it is important to explain how these drawings came to be.

People who create ads are split up into two groups: art directors and copywriters. One focuses on how the ad looks and specializes in graphic design and scrolling through hours of stock photos, and one focuses on how the ad sounds or reads and specializes in making people feel bad for not knowing the difference between "its" and "it's". Usually they put one of each together and you make ads with that one person. Sometimes I forget that most people don't know all this and talk about Jamie as my "partner" which gets a raised eyebrow until I clarify.

Brainstorming together, Jamie and I usually throw ideas at each other, scribble stuff down, figure out what we like, and then Jamie sketches something and I put together some basic copy. Once we feel we're getting the point across, we can show it to our Creative Directors and see what they think.

Sometimes, though, I have an idea that Jamie isn't seeing. So in order to show what I mean, I draw something quickly so she can create something much more lovely than I could. And sometimes they turn out accidentally awesome. Here are four I've made that I was particularly proud of.


This one was supposed to be a panel of judges at a food network show. You know how there is always some snooty British person? May I introduce the man on the left.



This was a woman surrounded by a bubble. Within her bubble was a meadow, even though she was really at home. She just looks so darn happy!



This is a woman picking up her nice-smelling dog. The dog looks so confused!



This one I couldn't find the real picture to scan it, I only found the picture I took of it. But it is Scrooge and the Ghost of Christmas Present. And isn't he the cutest, shocked-looking Scrooge you've ever seen? Look at his nightcap all blown back and everything!

Okay, that is all. Just wanted to share my accidental creativity with you all.

Life List: The First 50

(Me, on the right, distinctly NOT seizing the day two years ago.)

So I've been inspired by other blogs to make a Life List. Otherwise known as a Bucket List, but I feel weird pulling a phrase from something I've heard Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson say in sync. So it is my Life List. And it is halfway done.

With Joe gone, some slow days at work, and my improv classes has sprouted a new feeling in me. A feeling that can only be described (and I apologize but it's true) as Carpe Diem. But like LEGITIMATELY feeling it, not just reading an inspirational quote from Dr. Seuss or Yoda on your friend's Facebook info section and thinking for one second that you SHOULD, in fact, live in the moment...before you realize that Say Yes To The Dress is on and WHAT THE WHAT, you're willing to spend five grand on a dress and you are worried you won't find something?? Also, when they say, "It only comes in one color: ivory" THEY MEAN WHITE so I don't want to hear you say that you don't want the dress because this is your wedding day and you deserve to wear white--grrrrrl don't MAKE me come over there *z snap*

Breathe.

Okay, I'm back. Sorry I had to turn into an offensively fake sassy black lady for a second there, but something had to be done. ANYWAY, lately I've been feeling a lot more in-the-moment than I usually do and I'm loving it. And I want that feeling to stick around. So I thought a To Do list would help me because I can look at it and challenge myself to become the person I want to be, and in very specific ways. I'm not just sitting around watching Parks and Rec, waiting for something awesome to happen. Not that Parks and Rec is ever a waste of time--SHUT UP EMILY, NOT THE POINT.

I want to take more responsibility for my life and what I'm doing with it. Because (uh-oh, here comes another cliche) I'm not getting any younger. The time is now! Six of one, half a dozen of the other! Wait, crap, that last one doesn't work here. WHAT I'M TRYING TO SAY is that my life isn't going to make itself happen and I don't want to wake up all wrinkly and realize I never did anything. I think that's the way I've been living lately. And here are the first 50 things I want to do to change that.

There are 50. I want to get to 100. Some things I could do tomorrow. Some things I could do this year. Some things I could do in five years. Some maybe not for a few decades. It's not so much about the timing, it's more about the fact that I want to be the kind of person who does it...eventually.

Life List

1 Grow vegetables in a garden
2 See my ancestor’s castle in Scotland
3 Swim in the Mediterranean
4 Go anywhere in Asia (But not Russia because that’s not what I mean)
5 Eat lobster in New England
6 Visit Lake Winnipesauke with Michelle
7 Watch enough Dr. Who to know what other people are talking about.
8 Write a script
9 Write a book for young adults
10 Win an advertising award
11 Go on a production shoot outside the city I live
12 See a whale in real life
13 Snorkel
14 Join a funny-women-bloggers community or create one
15 Make baklava
16 Have a fruit tree
17 Send my parents on a vacation
18 Do good in a 3rd world country
19 Help change a struggling school.
20 Go on a girls-only group vacation
21 Be a bike rider
22 Own a vespa-esque scooter
23 Create art
23 Make something funny or cool out of snow
24 Write a new graduation speech for my high school self and friends
25 Become an improv pro
26 Paintball
27 Stay classy in wine country
28 Go to a Gay Pride Parade
29 Sing unconventionally-themed Karaoke (like show tunes)
30 Adopt a dog or two
31 Make a main dish from the Julia Child cook book
32 Get a tattoo
33 Eat at one of those raw, vegan, crunchy restaurants
34 Become a regular at a bar or restaurant
35 Go to an outdoor movie by myself
36 Go to a restaurant by myself
37 Go to a movie by myself
38 Take a sculpting class
39 Buy a nice camera
40 Take a class to learn how to take good pictures with said camera
41 Create a quilt (with help)
42 Crochet a scarf
43 Re-certify for CPR
44 Create a reading nook
45 Stand behind a waterfall
46 Do something cool at a spa, like a mud bath or seaweed wrap
47 Get Lasik
48 Get wisdom teeth out
49 Start a 401K (shut up shut up everyone)
50 Act in something again


So those are the first 50 I've thought of. I challenge you all to make one, too. You'd be surprised how quickly you use up the ones you've wanted to do (like travel) and you'd also be surprised by the things you come up with to challenge yourself.

Potential Life Changes

I haven't really talked about what is going on in my life recently. This is because it is so MIGHTILY up in the air right now.

The deal is, Joe graduates in a few minutes (or like a month or two but you get it) and he's looking for work. And APPARENTLY the job market is a little touch-and-go at the moment OR SO I HEAR. So it's not a very stress-free process. And then throw ME into the mix and what do you get, boys and girls? Seven ulcers. That is what you get.

In my opinion, we've both been really good about taking each other into account when it comes to next steps for his job. Open-minded. I told him that if we have to move, we can. I'm not going to keep us cooped up in Chicago if that's not the right option--just because I'm afraid to leave. And in exchange, he gets to continue to date me. NO, no. ...Yes. NO! In exchange, he has to make sure we both approve of the city, and that it has good Advertising gigs so I don't have to become the next Real Housewife of Boise or something.

At first, the motto was "Chicago first, but if we must, maybe another city." But the more and more we talk about it, the more the motto changes to "F*ck it, let's do this."

Obviously nothing is set AT ALL. And Joe is trying hard for Chicago-based places. But if it has to happen, here are some of our current options, and why I'd be happy to move to any of them:

SAN FRANCISCO:


1. Francisco! That's fun to say.
2. Apparently the weather is constantly 50-70 degrees. SIGN. ME. UP. Plus, I can rock the light jacket like no body's BEESWAX.
3. It seems really laid back. And everyone I know there is really awesome. It must have some connection to the weather. People don't get cooped up for months on end, nor do they get irritated by constant boob sweat.
4. I do not have a Sassy Gay Friend. Maybe I could finally find one in San Fran.

SEATTLE:


1. Again with the laid back attitude.
2. I see your "it rains too much" and I raise you "It rains while you sleep or while you enjoy a nice cup of tea and a book on a lazy Sunday afternoon." Game set match.
3. Two of my aunts live near or around there. My aunts are super adorable.
4. Fresh fish at the fish market MIGHT mean I am able to choke down seafood.

PORTLAND:


1. I feel like Portland is like Seattle, but with less water and more hipsters.
2. In preparation for a potential move, I watched all the Portlandia episodes on Hulu and I have to say, Portland might just be the rich man's Wicker Park. And I love Wicker Park.
3. I could get a bike. I could get a bike and ride it around everywhere. And since everyone else has a bike, it would be way cooler and I would not fear for my life because people actually WATCH for bikers unlike SOME cities coughCHICAGOcough.
4. Joe and I could recreate the Oregon Trail and, as always, Hannah would get dysentery.

LOS ANGELES:


1. The constantly nice weather means I could get a scooter instead of a car and be like Jason Segal in I Love You, Man or like Zooey Deschanel in Yes Man. Basically any movie involving a scooter and ending in Man? That could be me.
2. I would be SIGNIFICANTLY closer to Future Husband John Krasinski. A plus for me, a negative for Joe. But these are the sacrifices we must make.
3. Higher potential for becoming famous. I assume everyone who lives in LA is famous, right?

So that's it. That's what's going on right now. Yes it is crazy. Yes it is frustrating not knowing for sure what city I'll be in within a few months. Yes I would be moving far away from my family and friends. Yes I have never lived outside Illinois. Yes it is creeping dangerously close to the end of our lease. Yes I need to go chug some Maalox right now.

Why I Love The Thesaurus

I thought of a hilarious word that I needed to share with Hannah (we do this now and again) but for the life of me, I can't think of what it was. I keep coming back to "hullabaloo" or perhaps "brouhaha" but neither feel quite right. So of course I have resorted to the internet, which entails scrolling through lists of unusual words, hoping a synapse will explode in my brain and I'll remember what it was. Nothing is coming to me, although I have found some awesome words in the meantime. Here are a few:

frowst: to luxuriate in hot stuffiness and stupefaction
fructuary: person enjoying the fruits of anything
fulvous: dull yellow

Which is quite the coincidence because as I currently frowst, I have become a fructuary of fulvous citrus.


The root of this problem is, of course, that I have a terrible memory for words. BREEEEH, correction: a terrible memory for the CORRECT word at the CORRECT time. Which may make you curious (you see), because I am a writer by profession and quasi-maintain a word-filled blog. True. But what is constantly open in my other browser? What is the first thing I bookmark at a new job? What is my lifeblood, my lover, and my friend?

That's right. Thesaurus.com.

Because there are times when the only other synonyms I can think of is the Spanish translation. And there are times when I forget how to spell the world "what." And there are times when the only word I can think of is "matriculate" and I'm pretty sure no normal person knows what that means. Oftentimes including me.

Usually what trips me up is...actually, myself. Because I get one thing stuck in my brain, and for some reason I just CAN'T let it go. "What's that guy's name? Is it Danny? No, that's not it. OH! I got it. Danny. No. How about Danny. No. Danny? No.

......


.....


....


...Danny? GOD!!!"

So if you were wondering why I'm not signing my name up to start asking Akex Trebek the questions to his answers, that is why. I'd be the one screaming 'BABY FISH MOUTH!!!!!1' for every answer.

Is it brouhaha? Brouhaha? Howabout brouhaha? Maybe brouhaha? Let me think about it brouhaha.

Oh Right. You People.

Oh, heeeeeeeeey everybody. I know I've been essentially gone for a week. I would really like to give you a spectacular reason, like I was writing a book or I came down with the mumps.

Truth is? 90% of things happening in my life worth discussing are all work-related, so I basically can't tell you about my life. Which is WAY more annoying for me than it is for you, because I have SO MANY THINGS I WANT TO TALK IN ALL CAPS TO YOU ABOUT. AND I CAN'T.

The other problem is, I want to tell you about A Wrinkle In Time. I reread it for the first time since the 4th grade, and I was going to compare it to the journal entry I KNOW I wrote about it back then. But it turns out, I don't freaking have that journal like I thought I did. So next time I go home, I'm scouring our crawl space for a Kelly green journal with erasable pen scribblings, and you shall get, at the VERY least, an awesome drawing. And at the very most, some insight into how much I loved Michael D. (Because boy howdy DID I.)

I've also wanted to write an entry about why I still love Rosie O'Donnell despite the general public's disdain for her. But really I just want to say, "She's real, she's hilarious, and she's kind of a bad ass. Done and Done." *brushes off hands*

But I'm here. And I promise to post worthy things, which may be as soon as tomorrow. Who knows?!

Sigh, I'm sorry. I'm terrible. Bulldog puppy?



I grew my skin FIRST.

Clever Title I Can't Be Arsed To Write

I'm in a place today. A work-related, career-related, life-related, long term goal-related place.

Basically, I would like to get a hold of a time machine so I can go back to the 5th grade and tell my bowl cut, glasses-wearing self, "F*CK IT, you'll be a Muppeteer if you damn well want to be a Muppeteer."

And then I'll come back to now. But for good measure, I'll make a stop in 1999, slap myself for not wearing my retainer, and then come back for good.

I am going to go home and make myself a sandwich comprised of bacon, smoked gouda, and a slathering of Steve Martin. It might work.

Oh my god, it's The Day.

The Copywriter's Dream Journal

I have found it.

Since middle school, I've kept a journal. Starting in lined notebooks and moving on to internet, I've always had some way to record my jaw-dropping, awe-inspiring, adventurous life. Entries like, "Today Michelle and I had a sleepover and made cinnamon rolls." "I had a dream that Kevin W and I went to the dance together. It was awesome." "Made up a new nickname for Teena. It caught on. Popularity here I come!"

I mean...who am I to deprive the world of such inspiring words?

But lately, I've lost the "Dear Diary" method of recording. And while I love sharing stuff on this blog, none of y'all want to know about the OUTSTANDING mac & cheese I had at lunch today. And besides. How boring does a diary seem that's filled with pages of "today i did this and it was cool."

Until I found this at Urban Outfitters (QUIT YOUR SCOFFING, I CAN HEAR YOU FROM HERE.)

As you can see, it's a 5-year diary that gives you only enough space for about 3 sentences. Enough to decide what the one thing was that you did that day, jot it down, and wait until tomorrow. And as a copywriter trained in the art of conciseness? What could be a better once-a-day exercise in keeping it simple?

Also, it is possibly the cutest book ever.
1. It is seafoam green, the cutest of all the greens.
2. It has that gold stuff on the edges of the pages, which I found mesmerizing as a child. (I was bored a lot.)
3. The cover is slightly squishy, almost that same material as how they used to make toilet seats before everyone realized how gross that is.

Besides all this, I love that it lasts for 5 years, and each page is the same day of 5 different years. So as long as I keep at it, when I'm 31 (ACK! ACK!) I'll be able to look back on one page and see how my life has/has not changed in the past 5 years.

And that's all. I'm just really excited. Sorry. This is not the post you're looking for.