Some More Fundas

I just came across this article in the NYT and I agree that when you’re laid off, it really helps to talk to folks who were in your position before. Basically, someone who really knows the meaning of the words: “I know it’s hard, and I know you’ll find something.” In my case, I had the whole visa situation to deal with and my living situation. So, several things besides the whole unemployment bit. But I was lucky I had several people who understood all the shenanigans and really walked the walk with me.
However, I also tried to listen to folks who kept saying this is the only break you’ll ever get to really try and do the things you always wanted to do – after all I didn’t have a house to refinance or a family to bring up, I really could do whatever I wanted in between jobs. Except go on some exotic holiday, which I couldn’t afford, or if I could, I wouldn’t be able to enjoy so well. So here is not-so-exhaustive list of things I attempted to do in my “down time” (pun intended):
1. Patronize independent coffee shops instead of Starbucks – most of them have free wireless and fair trade coffee, a perfect combo for job search.
2. Adopt exercise as my new religion – when you don’t have health insurance for a couple months, you are your only insurance. This plays into feeling good about yourself, which plays into your confidence when you give those interviews.
3. Catch a matinee – OK, I only saw one called Nick and Norah Infinite Playlist, but I had the theater all to myself and it was one of the best treats I gave myself.
4. Try a new hobby – I walked into an art store and decided to be Monet for a week. Oil on canvas was messy, the abstracts were just that – abstracts – but I vented my emotions here more than anywhere else.
5. Volunteer – the intention was clearly there to give a new purpose to my days or one day of the week, at least, at an old age home or my pet favorite, the animal shelter. I consciously volunteered not to be bitter about my situation.
6. Introspect – since an idle mind is a devil’s workshop, why not take all that time on your hands and figure out really what the hell is it you want to do? I read some neo-age spiritualism (e.g. “The Power of Now”) which got me thinking about the right kind of questions to ask myself.
But everyone has their own personal journey and story to tell. Good or bad, or just plain traumatic, it’s a process that does make you better for it. Karma can be a bitch but I also believe “you sow what you reap” – because you never know when you may need someone’s help or the kind words and a smile of a random stranger will make your day.

Inauguration Day

Obama’s Big Day turned DC into the biggest party town ever! I trudged out on the morning of Jan. 20, 2009 at 6 am and walked 2 hours to be near the Smithsonian under one of the many big TV screen spread out over the National Mall. I continued to stand in the freezing cold for the next 6 hours. My feet couldn't bear it much longer so in between I warmed up inside one of the museums, which was resembling more like Nizamuddin railway station with people sprawled out on the floor and resting their weary feet in all directions… but what a beautiful morning it was! People were in such high spirits that in spite of bad organization in certain places, everyone was remarkably tolerant and civil towards each other. The best part was talking to complete strangers from all over the world (a lot of French people for some reason) and joking about the weather and the politicians on the TV.
I don’t want to sound cheesy but one of the reasons I, like so many others, found a personal attachment to Obama’s message of Hope. It may seem vague and ambiguous but it’s a great thing to put your mind towards when everything is spiraling down.

End of Couch Surfing, As I Know It!

Well I planned to formally sublet my friend’s apt. but as I have learnt time and again – things NEVER happen according to plan. So stop making them and enjoy life now. I can’t begin to emphasize that over and over but it’s hard to heed your own advice sometimes. My friend broke up with his girlfriend and moved back to his place. Naturally, I wanted to give him his space back. I looked for other sublets but everything was booked for the Inauguration weekend and there was nothing available before Feb. 1 so technically, I needed a place to crash for 3 weeks – plus I was starting my new job at the end of the month. I managed to find shelter in two of my friends’ places – a couple who generously opened up their big home – and another friend in his small one-bedroom apt. There were all good friends of mine but for different reasons, I wondered if my stay would change the dynamics of our friendship. Needless to say, I think I had an impact on both the homes, and our friendships. And unless I am mistaken, it was a positive one.
In between, I went off to Ottawa for a few days to get my new visa and visited my Aunt and Uncle. It was freezing cold but I always love spending time with my extended family – besides the home cooked food, the warmth and sense of humor that comes with common history.
Now, I have finally moved into my own place in a group house with 3 other women. Again, having my own space with my own loo and closet is something I will always appreciate.

Joining the Workforce

One of the many, many things that have transpired since the elections has been the good news that I am now gainfully employed. After nearly a decade as a journalist, I went over to the Dark Side and have become a communications consultant… ironically, as part of a special project on the financial crises! The same thing that got me unemployed got me employed again. I was pretty much ready to pack my bags and move back to India when I got the offer a little before Christmas. What a way to end the year – an Annus Horribilis, indeed.
As I go back to the routine of waking up, getting dressed, taking the bus/train/cab to work, and interacting with others in another environment, I appreciate it far more than I could imagine. Talk of stimulus packages and rising unemployment and yesterday I found myself the task of counseling a friend who was laid off. I gave her all the sage advice I accumulated during my journey – but everyone has their own story to tell.
Is fortune smiling on me finally? I don’t know. When people say I have handled myself really well, I can say perhaps I just didn’t have public breakdowns. Or perhaps I had a wonderful support structure. Or perhaps, like any situation I had never been exposed to before, I just didn’t know any better but to live and try.

Post-Election Syndrome

If you don’t count the time I went to buy undergarments at Filene’s and the salesperson behind the counter loudly yelled at her colleague: “What’s the code on this Calvin Klein?” or the time when I was coming home late from a Diwali party and I got semi-attacked by a drunken Polish guy (there goes any stereotype on would-be drunken sod attackers) who claimed diplomatic immunity to the cops outside my building, or the time when I thought it would be pretty fun to boil an egg in the microwave and guess-what-happened, or the time when a creepy old man at my swimming pool asked, “how’s the water?” while checking me out, I have had a relatively uneventful past few weeks. Oh, there was that thing called the U.S. election which was bigger than any of us, and even the President-elect seemed to know it.
I was at a bar in Dupont Circle with some friends and like the rest of junta, we were glued to Wolf & Gang on CNN. Every time the dramatic music came on to reveal “Projections” we cheered. Then those Star Trekky holograms which was just so random and ineffective. But oh, every time John King came on to point at the electoral map, I swear my heart skipped a beat. By 10 pm I knew history was in the making. The 2 African Americans sitting behind our group were already in tears. By the time, Obama came to make his acceptance speech, the rest of the bar became overwhelmed too. One guy standing next to me kept saying “Yay! David F-ing Plouffe!” or “Oprah, we love you, too!” and towards the end it was: “Work it, Michelle. Lookin’ hot!”
Then we spilled out in to the streets where everyone was marching towards the White House. It felt like a revolution and there was true mass euphoria. I must have hugged at least 4 random people and shouted “Bush, pack your shit!” and then “This is Obama’s house, get out!” and a sign which said: “Why Wait Evict Bush Now.” Besides the smell of pot, cigars, champagne and beer around us, there was the sense of a nation finally breaking from its past.
We finally headed home sometime in the early hours, honking our cars in joy and settling in to watch NBC’s Brian Williams and ABC’s George Stephanopoulos give their final accounts of the day. It was bliss to be alive, and we were all Americans that night.

The Operating Word...

... is not "Dull." In spite of all the unexpected and living the proverbial “one day at a time,” I have been exuberant about life and hopeful in its potential. If you must talk of feelings, I can say I have felt the usual range of emotions under the given circumstances – from the insanely depressed to the drunkenly ecstatic – but never, for a moment, have I felt dull or bored. Someone asked me once what I did all day to which I replied: “Why, I just spontaneously combust around 4 in the afternoon and then I have a cup of tea.” But, seriously, looking for a job is a full-time job in itself and taxes a lot of emotional energy besides giving you carpal-tunnel syndrome (all those mouse clicks, you know).
However, as things stand, I am doing fine. I have a part-time job and thanks to a dear friend, I’m living in an amazing apartment in the heart of the city. There’s an oddly liberating feeling not knowing what’s going to happen next and I like it. Relationships have been invariably tested and perhaps a few may have fallen by the wayside. Some passing acquaintances have evolved into meaningful bonds and, conversely, some past meaningful bonds have devolved into passing acquaintances. And some bonds just grow richer and sweeter with the passage of time.
Perhaps the best lesson in all of this has been to irrevocably give up all expectations. How many times have I been advised, or counseled others, not to have any expectations? Whether it’s a promotion, a vacation, or a stupid date – so much easier said than done. It’s not a technique you can master over time, it truly is a life lesson. And for that, I am glad. Never a dull moment!

Order of Inventory

OK, I just had another 30-something birthday last week. Time for another life inventory:

No job? Check.
No home? Check.
No significant other/pet/fish tank/visiting mice? Check.

For some godforsaken reason, the universe is giving me the biggest bitch-slap ever and I am supposed to get The Lesson from it. What it is, I am still figuring it out. It's been more than two months since I've been unemployed and a little more than two weeks when I received two job offers which did not work out for whatever reason. On top of that, I will not be able to commit to signing a year's lease on my apt. so I have to sell off my furniture, donate the rest, pack up the essentials and shuffle between charitable friends and relatitves. It will be a soulful purge of excess baggage, to say the least.
So I have had the wind knocked out of me. But I've also literally gotten back on my feet again. I know I'm doing much better than a lot of other people might under these circumstances. And perhaps I will look back on these days with wonder and pride at how I managed to pull through it. But for now, I have to keep my head above water and keep swimming to the shore. And make sure to remember another life inventory:

Loving, supportive family? Check.
Amazing friends? Check.
Great resources for my general well-being? Check.

If there is more crap on the way (and there will be), I can take it. And then some.

This, Too, Shall Pass?

My quarter life has probably left me behind but the adventures and the crisis, continues to regale both me, and you, dear reader. The latest episode hit me like a ton of bricks a few weeks ago when I was laid off. Being unemployed in this economy is nothing radical, but definitely a test of things to come for me.
Initially, as I contemplated my future and what it held for me, it was interesting – and exasperating – to see how others reacted to this piece of news. My family has been largely supportive in spite of the occasional hypothetical plea of “if only you were married.” That argument, in hindsight, was a momentary cry of frustration but unfortunately does no good under these circumstances. But I would not have been able to hit the ground running with my job search without the positive reinforcement from my parents. I could always go home, yes, but first I had to give it my best shot.
As for friends and acquaintances, while some had already gone through a similar situation or knew of someone who had, they gave me a pragmatic insight of the days to come and the decisions I had to make, while helping me land my next gig. There were others who empathized well enough without being too patronizing. But I think many people projected their own fears and insecurities on to me – as if it were truly the end of the world. I agree that your job, your work, your passion, defines who you are to a very large extent. But it should not be the only thing that defines you. However, it is true that most people relate to you depending on what you do and not who you are as a person. How many times have you been a little more friendly to someone you just met because you thought his/her work was interesting or glamorous? It all adds up to the rigmarole of the social hierarchy we choose to live in.
In any case, unemployment certainly has its benefits. You can wake up late, have your pick of a coffee shop with free wi-fi, and garner sympathy drinks from your friends. But as I walked around the city during the day, I was also envious of the people walking about with such a sense of purpose - going to and from their work place - until I realized that I did have a purpose: finding a job, exercising, believing in myself. It is the only thing I have and yes, at the moment, it defines me.

An Unkindness of Ravens and Other Assorted Birds

Adventures have been happening but they have been unrelated to bad dates... there is only so much I can take just for the sake of a blog post! But here are some random entertaining tid bits from the past few weeks.

I was merrily walking one morning towards the metro on my way to work. It was a lovely spring day, not much sun, just a hint of breeze. In short, a perfect day for a long walk without your shirt getting soiled. As I passed one of the houses, I noticed a raven. Of course, I had seen all the horror movies related to that bird species: “The Birds,” “The Omen” and “The Crow.” So that’s what I thought of, as I passed it by. The bird must have known something about my thoughts, because the next thing I knew I felt a swoosh above my head as the bird flew to a tree in front of me. Then, again, I just thought the raven must have a low flight trajectory like many birds [have you noticed that lately, it must be something to do with climate change or something]. But the blackbird was clearly after me, and me only. There was noone else on the street! Once again it flew right over my head and I let out a small “Aaaaak! Scheisse” for some reason, I thought German profanity would have an impact on the bird. No, because it came after me a third time and made sure I was out of that street. I ducked my head and ran across the street towards a nanny or mom walking her 2-year-old. It may have been the anti-Christ (there was even a church nearby), but I am officially going to state my preference for birds in cages, thank you very much.

Here’s my gunshot review of Sex and the City: Great clothes and shoes, one amazing bridal montage, four aging but still gorgeous friends whining about their men, bodies and babies and of course, doing anything and everything with an unlimited expense account. Ah, the good life. SATC has struck a chord with so many women, it’s a wonder how so many so-called independent, urbane and progressive women relate to this overly antiquated notion of feeling inadequate and incomplete without a man, a marriage (or a divorce) and children. But you would think when a bunch of women sit and watch The Ultimate Chick Flick in sheer voyeuristic fashion it would instill some sense of congenial sisterhood. So it was rather amusing to see two groups of women fighting over seats — of all things — at the theater where SATC was showing. I had gone for the midnight show and expected a pretty big crowd. There were women in all kinds of clothes (shoes and gay friends were legitimate accessories) and came in sizeable packs. One group of 10 girls had sent one girl to stand in front of the line so she could reserve seats for all of them. She went and reserved nearly an entire row and kept shooing away the hijackers. Until finally, another group of women proceeded to ignore her and sat in the seats anyway. It would seem like hell broke loose. The manager was called, so was the security guard, and accusations of someone hitting someone flew around. My group of girls and the gang of gay men sitting near us took bets about which team would prevail. They finally resolved the situation outside and the girls who took over the seats continued to sit there. Amen, Sistah. Now, can we watch the movie, please?