Look who’s back! And unemployed again.
I never forgot about this blog, but amazingly, I was employed every day since the last post (excluding holidays and a short trip out to San Fran last week). I even worked on New Year’s Eve day which was extra rough since my roommate and I had decided to throw a New Year’s Eve party.
So much has happened and it seems as though there was absolutely no time to do anything, yet somehow it also feels like I’ve accomplished very little for myself in that time. How is it January 18th already? New Year’s felt like 2 seconds ago.
My trip to Cali was a short, blur of activity since it was mainly for a wedding. I’ve managed to avoid the wedding barrage unlike most people my age, but it looks like my friends are relenting and getting hitched. I already have two other weddings to go to this year. Plus I’ll be back in San Francisco in September for my grandmother’s 90th birthday. I can’t wait to go back. Looks like this year will continue the last’s trend of traveling, of which I have no complaints. I may even try to squeeze in a Vegas trip in the fall.
And that’s one of the best benefits of not having a full-time job. The freedom is amazing. Well, as long as the jobs and money keep coming in.
Today, I’m trying to gather myself back up again. I’m fighting against the feeling of neglect towards all the little things in my life. The plus side is that I’ve already read two of the books in my Winter Reading pile.
I’m hoping to work on a few projects, which includes tweaking my portfolio site. I revamped it not too long ago so am wary that I’ll turn to an annoyed Vic to help me out. But that’s lower on my to-do project list which is tough because I feel as though that should be a higher priority. Alas, I’ve made some promises and I need to make good on them.
One thing I needed to do first is paint this page of a Chinese bible that my mom gave me. Not sure if “bible” is the right term since it’s Buddhism. The official name is the “One Million Heart Sutras in the Buddha” and I have a “Sutra Transcribing Kit”. In simple terms, I have a piece of parchment with faint chinese letters that I need to trace over with a calligraphy pen. Once done, I’ll mail it back to some temple in Taiwan to be among a million other transcribed pages. It’s pretty cool once you think about it.
Of course, it’s easier said than done. I hadn’t used a calligraphy pen since college art class and my hand was unnervingly shaky. I told myself, “Okay, so the first few lines will be a bit sloppy, but then I’ll get better and the rest will be awesome.”
I didn’t take into account that fatigue would set in after about 40 minutes and my jittery hand would stay that way for entirely different reasons. In the end, it took me a better part of the day, about 4 hours to do the entire transcription. And it doesn’t look too bad. Some splotches here and there but overall, I’m pretty proud that I pulled it off without any major disasters. I have no idea what I was writing which makes me wish I had the motivation to learn when I was a kid.
Daily Panic Level: Low
Financial Outlook: Decent. A few checks are expected
Job Scorecard (Interviews – Freelance Work – Freelance Busts): 8 – 8 – 36
Last Night’s Meal: Tabla shrimp, veggies and brown rice
The recovery continues. This extended process has me feeling old.
The good news is that I’m pretty much 100%. I took today to focus on the final bits and pieces of errands. I finally finished my part in my initial freelance project, so all I need to do is to sit back and hope that it gets printed okay and hopefully I’ll have a few decent additions to my portfolio. The client is ecstatic which is a good feeling. So is eating on a regular basis.
The post-vacation depression is starting to set in. The letdown has been later than usual probably because of my crazy weekend but I was also still uplifted by the remnant impressions of my vacation. As those fade away to reality, I’ve begun to see more clearly that my life does not consist of 4 and 5 star hotels in picturesque European settings with fanciful meals of lobster and steak.
The real eye-opener was probably doing 3 loads of laundry this morning. Nothing brings you down to earth like walking in my local laundromat.
Sigh, back to being broke, desperately hunting for work, cooking my own meals again, and having to make my own bed.
Perhaps as an attempt to not fully confront my seemingly bleak reality, I jumped at my friend’s invitation to go over and play the Beatles Rock Band game. Can I take a minute to express how stunning this game is? Every aspect of the game is handled with an obvious affection for the band and the music. I was drooling over the graphics and the design of the game.
That was before I even got to play the first song, which was naturally Dear Prudence. Two friends jumped onboard and we pummeled through almost 90% of the Story-mode in that first sitting. I played bass lefty [wink towards Paul] and sang backing harmonies. Or at least attempted to. It was sobering to realize that I didn’t know the harmony vocals as well as I thought I did. Plus, none of us are endowed with much singing talent so there were more than a few cringe-inducing moments.
It’ll be hard to not get sucked into that game. I’ve been known to have my life absorbed by video games, luckily not since college. (See? I’m maturing.) But I’ve had those uber-nerdy times when my friends and I have stayed up all night playing Diablo 2 or Final Fantasy or whatever. One helpful effect keeping me from buying an Xbox and the Beatles game is being flat broke.
“Should I buy groceries or an Xbox?” Believe me, there was a moment of deliberation before acting on reason.
Daily Panic Level: Low
Financial Outlook: Still afraid to look
Job Scorecard (Interviews – Freelance Work – Freelance Busts): 5 – 2 – 16
Last Night’s Meal: Lamb chops with corn
Europe. Where to begin? It was my first time to visit the region, which is a crime, I know I know.
Living in New York City for over three years gave me several assumptions about how a big urban city operates and feels. So it was interesting to realize (almost instantaneously) that my expectations would not apply to London or Paris. The complete integration of so many cultures and nationalities was familiar to me. But what struck me was the sense of being saturated in history everywhere I went.
I kept relating things back to New York. Okay, New York definitely has its share of history, but over in Europe it’s on another scale entirely. I’d walk around a corner and be smack dab in the middle of some gothic courtyard or in the shadow of a giant cathedral. I loved it.
I noticed that throughout the trip I was mentally trying to defend New York. “Well, okay, they have Big Ben and Westminster Abbey, but we have the Empire State Building and the Chrysler Building. They have Hyde Park but we have Central Park. They have Piccadilly Square and we have Times Square. They have Oxford Street, we have Broadway in Soho. They have the Underground, we have our MTA.”
Although I have to admit, our subways didn’t really hold up against the Euro counterparts. Both London and Paris just seemed to have their shit together more so than our MTA. The trains were always running, and often. The coverage of the cities seemed much more thorough with more easy transfers. The trains always had recorded announcements of the stops instead of the sporadic, garbled voices of the NYC train operators. The stations seemed cleaner. Though I’ve been all over the NYC subways so am thinking of all those ghetto remote stations whereas I only hit the major stops of the Underground and the Metro so maybe it’s not a fair judgement. Another point for the Underground is their iconic design, as well as the Paris Metro. The maps and logos are beautiful, even if not all that accurate as far as distances and locations. As a designer, I lean away from the MTA, sorry.
In Paris, my defending of NYC took a heavy beating. The Eiffel Tower? Sorry Empire State Building but that French monument is incredibly gorgeous. I was enamored with it at first sight. I was surprised at its scale, but I was unprepared at how much I would fall in love with it. The Seine… we have the… um… East River and the Hudson (which granted has some nice areas along it now). Monmarte… sorry West Village. The Louvre vs the Met? I never thought I’d see a place larger than the Met. The MoMA and the Pompidou Centre? The MoMA probably touts a heftier collection but the building in Paris is a sight to behold. Williamsburg? I’d rather hang with French hipsters in Montparnasse. At least we have the Statue of Liberty… which was given to us by the French. Okay okay, the Brooklyn Bridge is undisputed against any bridge in Paris, and even in my opinion over the bridges in London. I love New York, but I could envision myself living in Paris or London.
This trip was all about getting my feet wet. I hit up as many monuments and landmarks and museums as I could. I figured I could get these things out of the way so that next time I’ll be able to explore the more subtle, less-touristy areas. As for my parents, they were all about the food. Although I’m not sure how successful they were at experiencing British and French fare.
On a night out with my old high school buddy, Susan, I wondered if London has a Chinatown. She replied that after a year of living in the city that she hadn’t ever found it, if it exists.
Fast forward to the next morning when my parents were giddy about what they ate in Chinatown. They’re like blood hounds, except they sniff out soy sauce. Even at Harrod’s, a giant mega clothing store, my dad managed to find Peking Duck in their in-store restaurant. He was describing his meal with giant saucer eyes of excitement.
Fast forward again to Paris, where we met up with some friends of my parents. On our train into France we were each anticipating some tasty French cuisine only to have their friends take us to… Chinatown. To eat chinese food.
After that I gave up on meeting up with them for meals and on my own sampled some great food in both cities. Yes, I had the cliche Meal Outside Of A Picturesque Cafe In Paris. And yes, it was an exquisite meal.
Backtracking back to London, I was lucky enough to catch up with my friend, Susan two nights in a row. In junior high and high school, Susan was the “It” girl, at least among our group of friends. Every guy in our group was secretly in love with her. And rightly so, she was gorgeous without the typical ego that goes with that, insanely smart without ever talking down to you, funny and down to earth that makes her so approachable, and at 5’10″ (going into high school) incredibly intimidating. To this day I have no idea how I managed to become friends with her.
Since high school, our contact has been hit or miss. When we went off to our respective colleges, we had rough first years and somehow gained solace in our daily e-mails to each other. I remember those e-mails as a great highlight of my days (sad in a way I guess, but I don’t really think so) and I really wish I was able to retain copies of those. A downfall of e-mails over traditional letters.
After that first year, our contact has been reduced to seeing each other and other friends about once a year. Susan and I, were perpetually single so made the typical pact of getting married at 50 if we’re still unhitched. I even had the perfection wedding song of the Rolling Stones’ You Can’t Always Get What You Want to which Susan reacted with glee.
To my disappointment, she announced to me on one of the nights out that she’s engaged. In our collective group of holding out on adulthood and maturity, Susan was always a beacon of hope. But another one bites the dust. (For the record, I am happy for her.)
I was genuinely impressed with London so was blown away at how much more impressed I was with Paris. Wow. City of lights, romance… all that. Justified. I could keep going on about the beauty of the place… but I’ll try not to.
Predictably, my French was atrocious. Even at a museum ticket counter, all I said was “Un billet” in what I thought was pretty serviceable French only to get a response of “One ticket: 9 Euros.”
TWO WORDS! That’s all I said and she instantly knew I was an outsider.
Luckily, my effort was apparent so no one was all that rude to me. In fact, everyone seemed to be very friendly. Another museum attendant was gracious to me when I came up to her pleading for how to work the pay phones.
When was the last time you used a pay phone, really??? I’ve had a cell phone since junior year in college.
In Paris, after realizing the pay phones don’t accept change, after pantomiming to a convenience store that I need to buy a phone card, after being sold an international calling card whose prompts were all in French, after trying to dial the numbers and PIN codes anyway, after the attendant tried to decipher my calling card unsuccessfully, she followed me to a phone booth and let me use her phone card. I thanked her endlessly and tried to give her money for my 30 second usage of her card and she refused any money.
This post is mushrooming out of control, so I’ll wrap up. It was an amazing experience. I feel re-energized. It was good to get away from New York but I still lovingly consider it home. I absolutely want to go back, and absolutely want to learn a bit more French so as to not embarrass myself again. I still feel exhausted days later and have yet to collect myself back into a normal routine.
Daily Panic Level: Non-existent
Financial Outlook: No idea where I stand
Job Scorecard (Interviews – Freelance Work – Freelance Busts): 4 – 2 – 16
Last Week’s Meals: Fish and chips, bangers and mash, chinese food, indian food, moroccan food, foie gras, canard, escargot, bouillabaisse, etc.
The day started by wrapping up the freelance project from this week and sending it off. Not sure what kind of response I’ll get but not sure how much I really care. Warning bells were raised when the company took over a week to get me a brief and elements for the project. Oh well, it was something and I get paid.
My friends and I came up with the idea of a shared travel journal. We all have trips in the near future and it seemed like a cool idea to document the experiences for others to see. The impetus of the journal started with me wanting to do a more personal iteration of the 1000 journals project. I wanted to spur some more creativity in myself and also my friends, as well as sharing something between us other than the endless rounds of drinks. Since my trip is the most imminent, I’ll kick the journal off. Hopefully it leads somewhere interesting.
Thus, I spent a portion of the day getting materials and prepping the journal. I’m genuinely excited. I’ve been working hard to regain my creative edge and these little things are going a long way towards that.
I found out that another of my friends got laid off yesterday. That brings the total of my laid off friends (including me) to: 10
The rest of the day’s agenda was derailed by afternoon beers (as mentioned previously). It wasn’t exactly the most responsible thing for Michelle or I but sometimes you need to blow off the to-do list.
The next two weeks will find me in London and Paris. My internet access will be spotty and who knows if I’ll have the time or energy to keep up with the daily posts so this blog will go on a brief hiatus. I’m predicting a large summary post when I get back. If I decide to come back.
Daily Panic Level: Low
Financial Outlook: Broke
Job Scorecard (Interviews – Freelance Work – Freelance Busts): 4 – 2 – 15
Last Night’s Meal: Remaining angus steak and squash
The beginning of another week, in addition to the end of another month (meaning rent and bills coming up), rachets up the anxiety within me.
On the bright side, the weekend was filled with friends who were inspiring to me. I want to keep pushing forward with art as well as try to develop something along the lines of a music blog.
Lord, just what I need: another blog. It all sounds so pretentious. My friends were talking about my multiple blogs and I seriously got embarrassed. If I decide to go forth with a music site, I really want to put some thought into what it will be. There are already endless music review blogs floating out there and I would need to have a different angle in order to be motivated to create it.
As for my design profession, a friend on Friday night was willing to reach out to some people she knew so at least my attempted networking is expanding, however slowly.
I also set up an interview tomorrow for a freelance job. I have virtually no info on the company or the job so am keeping my expectations in check.
After deciding that enough is enough, I set out to stop half-assing this trip planning and dedicate some serious time to just get it done, which is what most of today was blocked out towards. I found it to be tougher than expecting trying to figure out what to do and see in two completely foreign cities. Especially ones with so much history and so much to see. My parents also complicate the matter since I have to accommodate what they’d want to do. For example, if I want to spend time in the Tate Modern, I’m going to have to figure out what my mom will do since she loathes museums.
It was reminding me of when I was planning my first visit to New York. I had a bit more freedom to do what I wanted, which was to avoid every tourist trap and just wander. I wanted to walk through the real New York neighborhoods and get a sense of the people. My initial memories of certain areas are still vivid, and it’s amazing to realize that so much of the city has changed even in the short span that I’ve been here.
Daily Panic Level: Decent
Financial Outlook: Rough
Job Scorecard (Interviews – Freelance Work – Freelance Busts): 3 – 1 – 11
Last Night’s Meal: Italian sausages with onions and fettucini
Wow, my friend is already getting praise from her new company logo that I did. It’s certainly good to hear some praise on the little work that I’ve done lately.
Other than that, it was a day of monotony. I haven’t had many days where I haven’t had anything specific or special to do, but today was one of them. The horrid humidity outside was a factor, keeping me indoors so I wouldn’t be covered in sweat the second I walked outside.
I’m pushing hard on the freelance work though. And then a quick, sad browse on the job boards.
My London/Paris trip is looming so I started flipping through some travel books to determine what I’ll be doing while I’m there. I’ll be with my folks who love the touristy stuff so there’ll be a lot of crowds and shuffling in lines I’m guessing. My dad is also the type of vacationer that likes to plan things out to a T, which means itineraries. It’s the complete opposite of how I like to travel. Though somehow I got delegated the responsibility of creating the itinerary, which is the last thing I want to do. It doesn’t help that my mom hates museums and my dad hates shopping. The effort involved is already dragging my spirits down.
But Europe! I wish I could afford that digital SLR that I was eyeing before my unemployment. I need a severe upgrade in my camera.
Daily Panic Level: Medium
Financial Outlook: Bad
Job Scorecard (Interviews – Freelance Work – Freelance Busts): 2 – 1 – 8
Last Night’s Meal: Chicken with onions and peppers over rice
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1 Year Flashback
Like today, last year was just another one of those days that will forever be lost in the haze of normality. I can’t think of anything significant that was going on. Man, I was really making the most out of my last year in my 20′s.
It’s a travel day which means that my official job hunt/availability gets put on hold for a while. Not that I’d been all that productive this week; I feel a bit guilty about that. I’m hoping I get back and hit the hunt with a renewed gusto.
I finished up my packing and braced myself for the travel to Newark Airport. It took two subway trains and a NJ transit train to get there. LaGuardia and JFK are only marginally more accessible. I usually give myself a break from the torment by dropping the cash for a cab and it’s much more bearable. Newark is a different story. There’s just no other way around it.
Trips to the airport used to be such a wondrous adventure when I was a kid. I remember eagerly peering out of windows to see planes taking off and landing. Now, an airport just signifies a day of tedium and discomfort.
The epitome of this came in the form of a rather large woman, who (naturally) was placed right next to me. I don’t want to seem callous or judgmental, but when someone’s side fat spills over the armrest into your already limited personal space, your love for mankind in all its shapes and sizes diminishes a bit. Luckily two seats in a nearby row were open and I literally leapt at the first chance to switch seats. There was that second of awkwardness when the woman noticed I was gone, looked over and we shared an uncomfortable look in which we both knew exactly what happened and why. I could’ve spared her feelings by staying put but it was a 4 hour flight for chrissakes.
I anticipated my return to Dallas to be filled with a sense of unfamiliarity. I was expecting to be shocked that my memories were replaced by an alien landscape of new buildings, different shops and possibly a new aura to the place. In reality, I was more shocked by the apparent lack of change. In everything. My recollection of everything, to where places where to what streets to take snapped vividly back into the forefront of my brain. It was as if the haze of time never affected Dallas.
I suppose New York altered my judgement. There, things change in what seems like a time-lapsed video of a pulsating landscape. In Dallas, the stillness was off-putting.
Even regarding members of my family, it was incredible to notice how so little had changed in their daily life in the 4 years I had been gone. Houses and cars were the same, my aunt and uncle were playing the same Tetris game they played 10 years ago when I was living with them for the summer, relatives would walk into each other’s houses and plop down on the couch nonchalantly, and my grandmother was watching her Chinese television programs without end.
I don’t mean to sound like I’m looking down upon them for the way they live their lives. They seem perfectly happy and content, and if so, then what the hell do I know? They’re happy, then I’m happy for them.
Personally, I don’t know why I don’t find this familiarity comforting. This just doesn’t seem like it’s for me. I like that my life is vastly different from a year ago, and a year before that, and a year before that. I’m not ready to give up the adventure of not knowing what will happen tomorrow.
Of course the drawback is that all of my cousins are already showing signs of lapping me in the Achieving Adulthood Game. They will probably all go on to be more financially prosperous and settle down to happy home-lives, both of which are still in question for me. Being here, my fear of becoming the Deadbeat Family Member seems all the more real.
Another sign of growing older is that the number of friends remaining in my home town has dwindled to basically 2. Not that it’s a problem because I had a great time hanging out at one of our haunts with my high school friends, Melissa and Nhu. We laughed at old stories, gawked at how young the other patrons looked, and caught up with each others’ lives. I’m hoping to get another chance next week to get together with them, but we’ll see how things unfold.
I’m undecided as to whether or not to write posts next week. It feels more appropriate for this blog to stay New York centric so maybe it’ll be a vacation in the writing sense too. Ultimately, it’ll hinge on how eventful the days are and if there’s anything interesting to report.
Daily Panic Level: Medium, but suspended due to the distractions of the day
Financial Outlook: It’s not looking good
Job Scorecard (Interviews – Freelance Work – Freelance Busts): 1 – 1 – 5
Last Night’s Meal: Vietnamese banh mi sandwich, brought onto the plane
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1 Year Flashback
This time last year was the Boston Pig Roast, which is basically a gigantic house party. The hosts buy a 130 lb pig, cook it over a spit for about 12 hours, and invite every single person they know for an all-day blowout. Interesting elements include a stage for various bands, an ice cream truck hired to park in the driveway and dole out free sweets, and a full sized dunk tank. Oh, and beer. Coolers and coolers of beer. The next day is not a pretty sight.
Despite this party, or perhaps due to the party, I was driven to apply to several job listings and even cold emailing a few companies. It probably doesn’t need to be said how those turned out.
