Round 2

Driving thirteen hours: Dumb.
To a completely foreign city: Dumber.
Alone: Dumber-er.
In the middle of a Nor'easter: There are no words.

My trip north was a tad unbearable, due to the monsoon rain and winds... and even a bit of snow. (At that point, I hit my speed dial and yelled at my poor boyfriend to "get on the internet this minute I don't care if you're getting your oil changed find out how much longer I'm going to be in this *%$(*^#@#!!!".) Had I known I was to be in the midst of such hellacious driving conditions for upwards of ten hours I would have consumed enough valium to knock out Kit on game day. In addition, a certain toll booth operator in the middle of Pennsylvania will reap her karmic punishment for not taking pity on a clueless country bumpkin with zero toll experience.

The remainder of my four day excursion into the harsh land of the Yankees was spent:

• Meeting the lovely friends-of-friends allowing me to stay in their gorgeous home until I find a permanent residence.
• Getting lost.
• Filling out paperwork for the new job, which proves to be difficult without a valid address.
  
• Getting lost-er.
• Making the work parking lot attendant Victor rue the day I was born. (Hey! How do I know which ticket to shove into the damn machine to let me out??? Cut me some slack here!!!)
• Trying bravely to navigate the various streets and towns of my future new home despite the flying profanities, flailing middle fingers and blaring horn-honking of the natives. Yes, I know what state my license plate has on it... bugger off.
  

I can't help but feel as if I got my ass royally kicked by the town I will soon call home. Forget the details (new bank, new doctor, new drivers license). I am slowly coming to terms with the knowledge that I will get lost driving around these new cities in this new state, not for a few weeks or a month, but for the foreseeable future. I have to accept the fact that people are different there, and I will need much thicker skin if I am to survive. I will have to buy a better winter coat, since I learned from Tim just yesterday that I am apparently a non-whiny person... unless I'm sick or cold. Even worse? He's right. Damn, I hate that.

On the drive back to the Midwest, I had ample time to think through all that I had seen - and all I am about to undertake. My emotions right now range from excitement to sheer terror. From overwhelming joy to complete heartbreak. I have much to learn. The road will most definitely be bumpy. But within all the myriad of feelings running through me, I keep coming back to one very simple one. I am living.

Off...

on another marathon drive, to return late Thursday. Hope everyone has a great week.

~Oob

Nocturnal Retaliation

My blog about bed-hogging led to a plethora of AA-like comments in which my lovely readers revealed their burrito-blanket tendencies, sleep talking somnambulations and violent territorialism of the petite (but fiesty).

I thought it was hilarious a few nights ago when Tim began laughing. Loudly. In his sleep. Once it computed that no, in fact, he was not gasping for air or hyperventilating, I grinned and gently soothed him back into a blissful slumber. Can I get a collective "Awwwwww..."?

Shut up.

But a few mornings ago, Tim and I reached glorious new heights in our relationship. My only speculation is that while he (supposedly) can't be held accountable for his actions while he is sleeping, what does it mean when a sleepy attempt to end the deafening babble of NPR results in a violent meeting between his open hand and my nose? Really. The man smacked me so hard I could do nothing but grab my face and moan. Lucky for him I was too sleepy for the blow to have enacted the "Oh shit...... run." stage of Oob's temper. When daylight arrived, and he and I were both at work Tim nonchalantly asked, "Hey, did I smack you in the nose this morning?" My green eyes narrowed to slits and I replied flatly, "Yes. Yes you did." His face lit up in his charming grin as he sheepishly said, "Sorry!"

End of story?

Not quite. Last night in my sleep my elbow somehow managed to connect with Tim's eyebrow. Just like my momma says... it all works out in the end.

Stuff...

I'm a'spinnin'. My head is going to blow off. Not really, but close enough.

More good news: the old apartment albatross has flown away. I still owe the back rent that I couldn't afford to pay (and still can't), but they are letting me pay it off in installments over the next however many months.

As for the move, no I am not moving to Atlanta. Way, way more northeasterly of a direction. And as a cautious individual, I would rather not reveal the exact wheres and whats of my first big job. If you have questions, I'm sure someone that we are linked to knows my email address. Find it out from them (not on a blog) and email me. I'm making a preemptive journey up there Monday through Thursday to follow through on some housing options. And speaking of...

Cr@igslist is a great thing, but nothing can change the fact that I cannot afford a $1200 security deposit before I even get my first paycheck. {MANY dirty expletives} I'm having to get resourceful.

Here's hoping that the H0nd@ dealer doesn't bend me over tomorrow... something's funny with my antilock brakes/alignment/brakes in general. NOT driving another 1600 miles with funky shuddering happening every time I slow down.

A sincere thanks for all the congrats and well-wishing. I am still reeling.

Blessings

I find myself in strange territory here. The search is over.

Oob got a job.

I last blogged when I was weary from traveling over sixteen hundred miles in what should now be coined, "Jobtrip 2005". Jobtrip 2005 involved two different interviews for two different organizations in two very different cities over the course of four even longer days. This being said, I found that the end result is most definitely worth the sacrifice.

On Friday, I was offered a position in an organization that bent over backwards to make me feel comfortable during my brief time there. They proved to me that their organization was founded and run by people that are invested in its future, and it made me smile when I felt hints of the protective-parent vibe coming from the committee.

I have roughly two weeks to find a new apartment and relocate. Not an easy task, but I am ready to begin the next chapter in my life.

Blessings. Enough said.

Madness Abounds

Many fantastic things are afoot.

One horrific thing is also afoot.

I am more exhausted than I've ever been in my life, and feel pretty beaten up right now. Amazing how life can be amazingly brutal and staggeringly rewarding at the same time. I'll give details when I've rested.

This morning's conversation

(Held while I was still half asleep, and Tim was heading out the door to work.)

Tim: Good morning, honey. Did you sleep well?

Oob: No.

Tim: Oh, I'm sorry... why not?

Oob: You.

Tim: Wha??? What did I do?

Oob: You slept the entire night. Right. HERE. (Scooting over until I was directly in the center of the bed, with arms and legs akimbo.)

Tim: (smiling) Weeeeell, that's because I usually sleep where you were sleeping, and I must have been unconsciously trying to move back to my normal spot.

Oob: Are you kidding? I spent most of the night either curled up somewhere between your bony elbow and your bonier kneecap, shoving said bony parts back in your direction, or huddled on the farthest edge of the mattress trying to defy gravity in my sleep!

Tim: Baby..... I simply cannot be held responsible for something I do in my sleepy state.

(Kisses me, and heads out the door.)

Bollucks to that. My side is my side. Harrrrumph.

Could it be?

• I believe I may be free of the old apartment tomorrow. Finally.
• Number 3 called yesterday while I was at work, this time for a position that is being created. In the voicemail they asked whether I was interested, and when I'd be in {undisclosed location} next. I just left them a voicemail stating my interest in the position and geographical flexibility.

The hoping continues.

What would you look like...

if you were a South Park character? Try it here.

Too bad I couldn't figure out how to post my version of Oob. :(

Go have fun.

Hope

There seems to be an unspoken code of employment-seeking that no one bothers to inform us of, being the little peons we are. For instance, I know of a coworker that was a shoo-in for a teaching job but was passed over because she was the only applicant that didn't send a thank you letter. On another hand, if I am interested in working for you, and send in a cover letter and resume, can I expect to hear from you in the next millenia? It appears that I am left to wonder if my resume is that bad, or if my cover letter had a glaring grammatical mistake - likening me to the age of eating crayons for pleasure - that is resulting in an absence of any information (good, bad or indifferent) for over a month.... or more, in some cases.

After becoming downright upset with potential employers that cannot bother themselves with giving me a simple, "You suck. I'd never hire you.", I took matters into my own two hands. I began to send the dreaded follow up letters.

And now begs the question: How much follow up is too much? Do I run the risk of being that stalker girl, reeking of desperation so badly that it's coming out of her pores like the day after a garlic binge? Or should I sit obediently by for weeks when you say you'll "be in touch" and wonder incessantly, while you may have already forgotten my very existance? By NO PHONE CALLS, I can only assume you mean that I shouldn't call to follow up, either......

I am not so naive as to believe that an employer is only focused on filling this particular job position. I understand that they are busy with many, many other projects/deadlines, and cannot devote their entire being to replying to hundreds of resume submissions. However, if I have spoken with you personally, developed a rapport, and/or interviewed with you I do not believe it is too much to ask that you make me aware of either your dissatisfaction with my skills or your interest in another candidate. Or, in some cases, that there are extenuating circumstances that are preventing the filling of the position. (Thank you, DD.)

And after sending three very cordial, very brief follow up letters, I have received the following results:

1. (In my own wordage....) "Thank you for the follow up letter, but we are 95% sure that the position will be filled from within our existing employees. Give up all hope."
2. {Insert cricket chirping sound here} ....................Nothing.
3. A phone call from *gasp* a living, breathing human being!!! Sarcasm aside, he informed me that the original position was filled the previous day, but that I was "overqualified" for it anyway. He then instructed me to look for two more positions to be advertised within the next two days, apply for them, and to let him know when I did so that he may "put in a good word" for me.

Three different companies, three drastically different results.

Hope, in my mind, speaks of all things optimistic and is one of the few things keeping me motivated to continue this search. I do not give up easily. Even though this phone call will most likely be another uprising of hope for me, only to be swept away just as quickly, I will doggedly pursue this position- and the others- as if my life depended on it.

Because in a way, it does.