Hope is a funny thing.

Tonight I went out to dinner with a friend, and we had a great conversation about the content of life. At the moment, I told her, I feel like I am on the edge of my chair. Maybe you could say that I am on the brink of change. It seems like at the end of each breath there is a small space. I would call that hope.

Hope that at the end of this thing we call life we all get what we were wanting, or if we were lucky, we got more. Hope that we get the job, that we find beautiful people to roll through the years with, that there are enough bottles of wine and warm fires for winter nights. That we have beautiful children, and awful tragedies, and at the end of it all we have enough prospective to still feel like it was all worth it.

Eggs and Honesty.

Earlier this morning, I had breakfast with my friend Andy. On Fridays we go to Yoga, and then come back to my house and I make eggs and toast. It’s glorious. In between bites of egg, I explained to him that even if it isn’t remotely true, I need to believe that I am going to get an amazing job soon. Not only that, but that I will eventually find an amazing man, that eventually my family will be a little bit more sane, and that I will find amazing roommates. Read the rest of this entry »

A timid person is frightened before a danger, a coward during the time, and a courageous person afterward.

Jean Paul Richter (1763 -1825)

 You might look at this statement and wonder which of the three possible character qualities you have. You might think out several examples of times were you’ve had  to face your fears to pin point real life examples of who you might be. Or like me, you might just automatically say, “I’m courageous,” thinking you are a brave person with a good conscious. And also like me….you could be wrong.

Last night I went out to dinner with some friends. And the plan was to go for a 10-Mile-Midnight-Jog around the bay. Admittedly, after a lamb souvlaki platter, the idea of midnight running brought to mind this image:

 But I’m athletic and always up for something fun. It didn’t take long though, before others in my party began seeing the same outcome and the idea was nixed.

So around midnight, we were leaving my friend’s house. And seeing that parking in apartment complexes around here is not always easy, we had to walk across a parking lot to get to my car. Suddenly, from down a dark corridor off to my right, comes a white and black dog running full speed at us – barking, gnarling, bearing it’s teeth, foaming at the mouth. I screamed. And as it got closer and showed no sign of stopping, I was sure we were going to get attacked. And get rabbis. And die. A horrible death.

Read the rest of this entry »

          Last night my sister came over to my house, as we watched a movie. Now, I am not normally a girl who is not into Romantic Comedies at all.  Movies are one thing that my roommate and I will never see eye to eye on – she loves “RomComs”, I hate them. And it’s not that I’m cynic or anything. I really do believe that true love is out there. It’s just normally I can’t get past the awful writing. Holes in the plot, formulaic story structures…they feel like a corporate version of art. But…I lose myself. That is a conversation for another day.

Last night, my sister came over and we watched What Happens in Vegaswith Cameron Diaz and Ashton Kutcher.

The premise of the movie was exactly what you think it should be: two attractive people meet in Vegas, get blitzed and then get hitched. It gets a little complicated when Jack (played by Kutcher), wins 3 million dollars at a slot machine right after consenting to annul the marriage with Joy (played by Diaz). Considering his new found wealth and their marital status, Joy decides she is entitled to half of the money. In a messy judge ruling, they have to spend 6 months together working out the “marriage” before they are allowed to separate and split the winnings. The rest is history – boy gets girl, boy looses girl, boy gets girl back. And they all learn something about themselves in the process. Basic obnoxious chick flick.

But the part that really caught me what this line:

 ”You are planning to plan.”

You see,  Joy is a character much like myself. She is a strong, independent woman with a professional career on Wall Street. (ok, so we are kind of similar…she’s a professional…I have no job…but go with me on this one).  She is constantly spending time trying to be everything. She is beautiful, chipper, the perfect girlfriend, and pushing for a promotion at her Wall Street job. Sound familiar? How about my entry on Dos Equis, and trying to be interesting?

A few times in the movie, a pivotal statement pointed out to her is “You are planning to plan,” showing her exactly how deep her need for control and perfection really go. Ouch.

So, here I sit, a day after watching this mediocre movie, and I cannot get this line out of my head. And while planning and control are things that I struggle with in general, it seems to be an awkward number considering everything that I have going on. It’s a little hard to plan when you don’t have a  job, and you don’t know where you are going to be living in three weeks.  And these are just the struggles with planning out the next several months.

Beyond months, I realize that I am up in the air for the next several years.  In being unemployed, and at a critical point in my career life, I realize that the next position that I undertake can have substantial impact. At the moment,  I have several things percolating, and I wouldn’t be surprised if I had a job offer on the table here before too long. There are several potential positions staring me right in the face: Marketing Analyst for a health care group, Admission Coordinator at a University, Admin at a major sport brand…each one of these options makes my head spin. Because they are different pieces, of different plans that don’t really fit together.

In realizing these planning fears and frustations, I come to the pinnacle when it comes to one important piece of  paper. My resume haunts me. And for one reason: A resume is a story teller. It shows potential employers where you have gone, what skills you have gained, and where you would like to go (hopefully, into their company).  But, if you are like me, your resume doesn’t one clear success story. Instead, I have what my dad so aptly stated “A smattering of experiences.” I have some HR work, I have sales, I have administrative….and when I think about it, I’m still under the heat of the question “what do you want to be when you grow up?”

By this point in time, I’d hoped that I would be grown up. And well into my career. But the reality is, there are people out there that look at my resume and say, “Oh, so you are still green. We have a great entry level job for you.”

And while I am humble enough to realize that I don’t know everything when it comes to the career word, I’m a little bit beyond answering phones and typing out emails for my boss. When I’m really honest with myself, I realize that my dad knows more about my hopes and dreams than I do. Because aside from telling me that I have a “smattering” of experience, he also reminds me that I have always known what I want to do.

“That’s easy.” He says, “You want to run the show. You always have, and now its just a matter of figuring out how.”

He’s totally right. I’m writer, that’s obvious. I’m a story teller, and a communicator. I’m visual. I’m into graphics and photography. I’m a coordinator. I’m a schmoozer. I have friends. I’m really great at networking. I’m smart and analytical. I’m structured. I’m inventive. I’m tenacious. I want to be the boss.

And I’m a planner. Like Joy, I can get paralyzed by planning to plan, and forgetting to let life happen. I get so stuck in the dissonance between who I am, and what my resume is not, that I forget to move forward. Instead I look at the possible job offers, where they are located, what apartments are near there, what the responsibilities of the position are, how much it is going to pay, and how that next entry on my resume is going to effect the next five years. It’s beyond exhausting, it’s ridiculous.

And althought the movie was stupid in my opinion, I know Joy found herself by getting lost. By letting go of the need to be “everything” she found what she was really looking for. I’m almost embarassed that I am finding so much deep truth out of such an awful movie. But, embarassing or not, there is truth in that. To realize that I know 40-somethings who still don’t know what they are doing, and have resumes that make them absolute failures on paper. But in real life they aren’t failures as corporate America might call them; they aren’t paralyzed like me either – they are just free. Free to make mistakes, and fail, and work at jobs that they love and don’t care if the world never thinks they are important.

I think I’d like to get there. When I’m honest, I’m already drafting a plan on how to get there in the back of my mind even as I am typing. Maybe the question now is just…

Is it ok to plan not to plan?

On Wednesday, my friend Dave calls me and says, “Hey Jenni, let’s go for a bike ride.” Awesome. I’m always up for something outdoors and athletic to get me away from melting in front of my computer screen. I was thinking our ride would look something like this:

But, much to my surprise, I showed up at Dave’s house and he looked a little bit more like this:

Ok, so I was caught a little bit off guard. But I am an easy going gal, and even though I was in climbing pants and approach shoes I figured “What the heck?” I got on the bike as Dave proceeded to tell me that we were going to do a twenty mile loop around Huntington Beach and Bolsa Chica.

Twenty Miles.

Ok, for those of you who ride bikes a lot, you might be rolling your eyes at me. Apparently, riding twenty miles for bikes is the equivalent of running 5 miles. Easily done. Right.

Seven miles in, Dave stops me, telling me that his bike is wobbling, and that he needs to check the tires. Yep, you guessed it. Tire blown. We back tracked a little down to a gas station to see if we could fill the tire, and make it back to the house on a slow leak. But, to no avail, 15 minutes after filling, he was wobbling all over again.

So, twenty mile bike route turns to walking….while pushing bikes. And keep in mind, I am in approach shoes.

   <- Yeah, NOT a running shoe.

But, at this point we are on the beach, and it is a gorgeous day. Phenomenal. And I’m easy going, and athletic. So….we walk. We walk like NINE miles.  And at some point, I notice that the sun is going down – and I have to be somewhere at 6:30. Right – I am not going to make it. So I ask Dave…”At what point do we turn around? Or loop back up towards your house?”

“Oooooooh!” He says, we needed to turn around like 5 miles back that way.

Seriously.

So, around we turn (only after stopping for smoothies at Jamba Juice – where Dave got some healthy orange drink, and I got a chocolate-banana-peanut butter glory shake…which I found out later had NINE HUNDRED CALORIES in it…..barf.)

At this point it’s dark. And clear that we aren’t going to make it. And now that we have biked, and walked….it’s time for the third leg of our new kind of triathlon…. RIDING THE BUS. I’m even cracking up as I write this. Yes, waited at a bus stop, and loaded our cycles into the rack on the front of the bus so we could be shuttled home.

But here’s the best part – while loading our bikes, I was having a hard time getting my bike onto the rack. SO… I apparently stepped into on coming traffic. How did I know this? Because the bus driver lays on the horn and starts screaming at me to get out of the street.  And later, while trying to buy a ticket (thanks Dave – I’ve never taken public transport before and had NO idea what I was doing), he screams at Dave for taking too long! Dave says “Sorry, I just can’t find where the coins go…”

He replies, “In the coin slot.”

Again – not a joke.

It is only after being yelled at one last time for not being “far back enough” (?? Yeah, I still don’t know what he was talking about), before we were seated, situated, and I started looking around the bus. In case you didn’t realize, the weirdest people in the world ride the bus. You had classic Asian Lady-that-wouldn’t-stop-talking, big haired lady, Mexican day laborers, crazy bike man….a whole slew of characters.

It is then that it dawns on me. I want to write about the bus. I want to ride the bus every day, and write about what I see. I mean, as a writer, I don’t think you can get better material. I want to know what big-haired lady thinks, and I want to tell the stories of Mexican Day Laborer. Yep.

So, fan and readers of all kinds, be on the look out. Sometime in the near future, Cherry Blossom Thoughts is about to undergo a big change. Let’s call it a face lift. And hopefully more than just new graphics, we will have some great new content and stories on their way.

And for my adventure with Dave…

Who says that Triathlons can’t be a Bike, a Walk and a Bus Ride?

I realized something the other day. I don’t have a Valentine this year. And that should come as no shock….I’m single. But the part that was shocking to me was thinking back over the years, and realizing that even though I have dated a lot and come close to walking down the isle with a person….somehow I haven’t had a date for Valentines Day since I was like 2o. Seriously!

Is it realistic to think that a person could date on and off throughout her life, and consequently, somehow be single before February hits? I want to feel jipped…except for the part where I don’t.

This year, I find myself in a really awkward place when it comes to dating, men, and heart shaped boxes of candy. See, between loosing my job in November, and ending a decently great relationship – I feel that I am in a state of flux. You could almost say that it has spurred on a re-inventing of myself. Except, I don’t feel like I had myself “wrong” before, I just feel like I am getting myself more “right” than I have ever had it before. Even my roomate made the comment tonight, “Wow, it just seemed that you are really confident and comfortable with who you are – not just in your identity, but who you are as a professional career woman.”

That was really refreshing to hear.

Where Valentines comes in is like this – my neighbor upstairs just got engaged today. My roommate is most likely going to be engaged before the summer….along with like 3 of my close friends. And not just that I feel “left out” of the dating band-wagon, but there are moments in my life when I look around, and I am just struck with this core realization that feels like, “Man, its a tragedy that it is just me in this. I’d LOVE to have someone at just this moment.”

I’m not lonely in the way that I want someone to hug or to kiss or something. It’s more fundamental than that. It seems that I have a lot going on, and somehow it feels weird climbing into my king sized bed alone every night.

But, it’s a tension.

There are moments, when I am reaching into who I am as a writer, a designer, a creative, as a girl standing in the pouring rain, as a climber, as a runner, as a professional, as an unemployed woman, as an independent person, as a broke person scared shitless – there are moments where another person would just  wreck  it. It’s gorgeous because it’s just me and the wind – you know?

I have resolved to this: I’m not against dating right now. Self admittedly, I would love to have a man in my life. But, I’m realizing that I’m beautiful, and interesting, and incredibly busy getting on with my crazy, scary, unexplainable adventure of a life. And if a beautiful man walks in the door that is nothing short of wonderful – a true gentleman, lovely and in pursuit of something genuine – I’m in with both feet. But I think if were anything short of that, I might have to just push on my way. There’s a whole world out there waiting. And I’m incredibly excited to introduce it to the woman that I am becoming.

I guess that leaves me Un-valentined this year. Again. And in the beautiful tradgety, I can’t help but smile…just a little bit. 

Still unemployed.

It’s been 12 weeks.  That’s 3 months. That’s means when you balance the two out, I have more months than money.   I’m officially bleeding red, and waiting ever so patiently for Unemployment Insurance to get their act together and send me a check in the mail (yes, somehow all of my paper work has gotten lost, twice, and 12 weeks later I’m checking the mail box like an anxious 5 year old).

Let me not get sidetracked. The issue of being broke is, obviously, associated with being unemployed.  Thankfully, a simple check from Unemployment will clear that up. What cannot be resolved with a check  is the new mindset slowly developing as the unemployed weeks pass. You see, I was fortunate to have been given the expert services of Lee Hetch Harrison.  They are an executive placement company that has mastered the technique of job searching, and they offer resources that I could not put a price on (although, I’m sure they do have prices attached somewhere).  LHH has been a critical part of discovering what goes on in the mind of “The Unemployed,” as I am not only completing their program myself, but I am also spending the majority of the day with other unemployed individuals.

There is an office that I go to a few times a week. I get dressed in a suit, wave at the receptionist, make coffee, call contacts, read emails, and schmooze around the “water cooler.” I even attend meetings! Although these things may look and feel much like a job – dear friend don’t be fooled. The only payment from these efforts will be the payoff of a job offer.

Now, part of the program is my Job Search Work Team that meets every week. They are amazing. Each week we come in with our charts and notebooks and papers, feeling important…or trying to feign importance. We go around the room and talk about how many contacts we have made that week, who we spoke with, and upcoming highlights. We discuss job postings  (and believe me, at times there aren’t many), interviews, and troubleshoot sticky situations that might arise.   This week, one of my favorite characters, a gay writer (of course),  makes the most insightful comment as we are walking into the meeting room.

 “Why is it that not having a job just seems to bring out all of my insecurities? God! Going on a job interview makes me feel like an anxious 16 year old on a first date all over again!”

He’s RIGHT!

Not having a job is like going through a break up every single day. You may think I am being dramatic, but I am not kidding!

• Pouring through Internet sites, looking for potential new jobs that would be a “good match“…sound like match.com anyone?
• Going on that first interview, where you are looking to have “Chemistry” with a company – they need to like you, you need to  like them, you need to value the same things, and you need to see eye to eye on the important things.
• They say they’ll call, and you wait by the phone…for what feels like FOREVER.
• Even if the job isn’t the right “fit” for you, and you KNOW you don’t want to work there, it still hurts to be told no.  “I want to break up with them first!” Sound familiar? (yeah, its called my Friday night last week).
• If you have good “chemistry” with HR, they ask you on a second date, I mean interview…but this time with the hiring manager. Talk about pressure!
• Sometimes they bring in a “Panel Interview.” Is this like  the “Want to meet my family?” conversation that inevitably comes up too early in dating?
• When you get all the way through the Panel Interview, and they DON”T offer you the job, there is always going to be some friend consoling you over lunch or drinks, telling you “Honey, you didn’t want to work for them anyway. I bet that guy was an asshole!”
• And even if they give you a job offer (which is like an engagement ring) – it has a numerical value tied to how much they like you. It’s called your salary. Or your carat size. Same difference.

In short, being unemployed can make you resilient,  or it can destroy you. I suppose whichever one comes first. As I sit every morning, pouring over my “Positioning statement” (I am a highly proficient business professional with expertise in communication both written and verbal…), I can’t help but feel like a sixteen year old girl, staring in the mirror saying “I’m pretty, and funny, and smart, and cute, and outgoing…” and trying to make myself believe it.

Maybe Prince Charming is out there. Maybe right now, he’s sitting at a restaurant table and sharing a laugh and a drink with my future boss.  Maybe they’re buddies. Maybe they both don’t know it, but I’m sitting here, waiting to have the chance to radically change both of their worlds.

Until I find the road to that restaurant table to schmooze with my future life, I suppose I’ll keep looking, all the while reciting to myself …

“I’m a beautiful business professional, who’s great at being a girlfriend and has expertise in communication, both written and verbal…”