work

Back from another SF trip

This time the flight out was better than the return. I had an empty seat next to me, we left on time, AND got in a whole hour early. Unheard of! The pilot said something about the winds being in our favor.

After I got to the apartment, we did what seems to now be our tradition: go to Grub Stake for a late dinner, then pick up pastries for breakfast from Bob’s Donuts. Yelp reviewers had raved about the apple fritters so we got a couple of those. Delicious! Like a cross between a donut and a danish with pieces of baked apple here and there.

Saturday we walked out to Haight-Ashbury, which was as expected: grubby and touristy. There was some cool graffiti but I wasn’t in the mood to take pics. I’ll have plenty of time do so when I’m all moved in. We walked around Golden Gate Park as well, where there was the BEST PLAYGROUND EVER. There was this ropy climbing thing that looked kinda dangerous (the best kind), little bouncy tea cups for toddlers, and a slide along the lines of Action Park. The kids all rode down on flattened cardboard boxes, and we wondered if the park had them lying around, or if the kids knew to bring them. I totally wanted to ride the slide and climb the ropy thing.

I might have mentioned this before, but what I’ve noticed about SF is that there are a lot of homeless people. A lot more than, at least, New York. I think it’s a combination of the mild weather and that there’s less walking traffic. People who aren’t homeless are more likely to be in cars, while in New York almost everyone walks.

There were tons of homeless in Golden Gate Park, a combination of older guys who look like they’ve been homeless for a long time, and scrubby kids with their dogs. I’m sorry but I have zero sympathy for the scrubby kids. If you can afford a purebred dog, tattoos, combat boots, and a leather jacket, no matter how dirty they are, you can afford a sandwich. You’re white, young, and articulate – work at the fucking Gap. Or go home to Mom and Dad in San Jose. In New York you see the kids only in the summer – they “summer” in New York, I guess you could say – but now I’ll get to enjoy them year round.

Saturday afternoon we just lazed around the apartment, then got dinner at Shalimar, this Indian/Pakistani place near our apartment. Like Bob’s Donuts, the place doesn’t have much of a décor, but the food was really good. We got chicken jalfrezi, chicken tandoori, daal, and nan, all for just $22. Everything was yummy.

That night we saw The Informant. Matt Damon was terrific. With some actors, you can’t get past who they are (eg, Tom Cruise, Julia Roberts, Jennifer Aniston), but I kept forgetting it was Matt Damon and just thought it was this schlubby, dopey guy.

Again, no one talked during the movie! I could hardly believe it. We were probably the noisiest.

Flew back yesterday. The flight left on time, but I was very tired. I thought I had a whole row to myself, but at the last minute this couple with a 10-month old showed up. At first I thought, Great, but the baby was well-behaved. He got a little fussy but didn’t really cry and slept most of the time. When he was awake, he was pretty cute. After we landed and were waiting to deboard, I heard a farting noise, but thought it was someone shifting their luggage. Then the couple cracked up. “That smells so bad!” they kept saying. It was the baby. Luckily I didn’t smell anything.

I missed the AirTrain by seconds cuz this idiot went to the doors, then decided, No, I’m not going in, and got out of the way VERY SLOWLY. “Excuse me!” I said, and he turned around and was like, After you, as the doors were closing. Yeah, thanks asshole. I didn’t have to wait too long for the next one, but the J took a year to get there, and also to get home. But hey, five bucks beats $50.

~ ~ ~

Oh my God, I forgot to write about the nightmare I had with FedEx last week. I shipped MB four boxes over the course of four days. He was supposed to get the first one on Wednesday, but he hadn’t. There wasn’t even a door tag. I checked the tracking number, and it had been sent back to the FedEx station because “the resident wasn’t home.” Well, yeah, that was why I said “No Signature Required.”

I called and the guy said there was a note in the system that the courier didn’t feel it was safe to leave the box, ie, it would be gone by the time MB came home. I said, “Okay, what do you think I should do?” The guy suggested letting a neighbor or the super know about the box, but I said I didn’t know anyone in the building, and who knows who would be home in the middle of the day? Then the guy said just leave the door tag with a signature, and I explained that wouldn’t work since the door tag had been taken. Finally, the dude assured me that the courier would probably just ring buzzers till a neighbor came down and would sign for the box.

Well, that didn’t work, because later I saw that the box had been returned AGAIN. I called FedEx and was basically freaking out. I felt so frustrated because I didn’t know why the guy wouldn’t leave the box, aside from “the resident wasn’t home.” Plus there were three other boxes in the same situation. The poor FedEx woman made all the same suggestions again, and I almost lost it.

“THERE IS NO DOOR TAG! SOMEONE TOOK THE DOOR TAG ONCE AND WILL PROBABLY TAKE IT AGAIN!”

I asked about redirecting the boxes, and when she took the address, she kept spelling the street name back wrong. True, English was her second language, but maybe it shouldn’t have been. In the end I decided not to redirect since it would cost extra. She was in touch with the FedEx station a couple of times, and finally someone there suggested that perhaps the courier needed the code to get in the building. I was reluctant to give it out, but I didn’t know what else to do. The rep gave the code to the station, then at the end of the call I said, “What code did you give them? I just want to make sure you got it right.” Then she proceeded to read back the zip code to me.

My head almost exploded.

After asking my question twice more, she finally got it, found the message, and read back the right code.

I felt like I still had no guarantee that the boxes would be delivered, though I did feel better when I called back regarding the other three to give the code. The reps I talked to sounded much more like they knew what they were doing. They asked for my name and a contact number, in case anything came up, while that first woman didn’t ask for any information from me.

I was very relieved on Friday night to see that the boxes had arrived. Sheesh.

There’s one more that should be arriving today (fingers crossed) and one last shipment that I am sending to MB’s work place instead. Taking no chances.

Oh, and because I had such a bad experience with FedEx (and that’s a first, usually they’re great), I ended up lugging a suitcase full of books to the airport, instead of shipping them like I was planning. It wasn’t so bad, or at least it was bad for a very short time, like when I dropped my duffel bag and both suitcases in front of a JetBlue guy, who just stood there, not moving a muscle to help me. But soon enough the suitcases were checked, and when I got to SFO, I found a cart just hanging out, and so was able to use to without paying the $5.

awareness / moving / work / writing — 6 Comments
10
Sep 09

Distracted by a few things this week

Packing. This weekend I’m flying out to SF to visit MB, and have been obsessed with what I can bring. I have five space saver bags worth of clothes, some his, some mine. Since I’ll be checking my luggage, I’m bringing a whole bunch of beauty products (mostly mine), as well as a bunch of cords and guitar gear that he left behind. Plus my laptop, PLUS his ukelele. Comes down to one largish suitcase, one duffel bag, one shoulder bag, and his uke case. I think I’ll be okay. Plus I’ll be able to leave almost everything and have a light trip back on Sunday.

I’ve also started attacking the stuff we’ll be moving to my parents’ house. The ‘rents got on my nerves over the weekend about our storing furniture and whatnot there – they weren’t giving me a hard time, but were bickering with each other about asking their painters (they have had the house repainted this week) to move furniture without tipping them. My mom’s theory is that the’re moving stuff anyway, and my dad’s is at least give them a little something for doing something extra.

Then my mother got all up in my grill about what we were keeping and not keeping. For example, the small fridge MB got. I was just going to leave it behind, but my mother wanted me to move it, which meant upping the movers’ estimate, as well as cleaning out, unpluffing, and defrosting the fridge, yet another thing on my long list of things to do. She did finally let up, but it made me not want to deal with them at all and just move our stuff cross country.

Then MB talked some sense into me: when he was moving cross country a few years ago, the estimates he got were in the $3,000 range, too much for me. Plus we’d have to store our stuff for three months, not a lot of money, but then pay movers again in December when our sublet’s up.

“Plus we’ll probably come back to New York,” he said. “It’d be nice to have all this stuff when we come back.”

Okay. Researching cross country movers would have been yet another thing to do anyway.

Giving my notice. Which I did, officially, yesterday. Remote working, even temporarily, is a no go, so my last day is on the 25th. I keep thinking that’s a month away, but it’s only two weeks! Okay, breathe.

I’m past my fear of not having a job, and not too worried about the projects I need to finish up around here. I’ll do my best, and if I can’t finish them in time, then someone else will do it. Oh well.

I’ve realized nothing is forcing me to keep this job. MB is working, we don’t have a mortgage, we don’t have kids right now, and I have some moola saved up. Now’s actually the perfect time to take some time off and write.

Another thing I realized is that nothing around here is a matter of life or death, and yet people get so worked up. My current department isn’t so bad, but my old one, marketing, was always getting in a tizzy over artificial deadlines and deliverables (ack, that word). Why are we working all hours? Cuz the boss said so. I ran into an old co-worker yesterday, who told me about another colleague who is apparently incredibly mean to her assistant. Yelling, hostile emails. I mean, why? What could warrant such behavior? An unexpected meeting? Jeez, lady, get your priorities straight.

Although this job is about a million times better than my previous one, I still worry sometimes. Far less than when I was in marketing, but it’s still there. I realize – a third thing – that I’ve been worried off and on for the past seven or eight years, ever since I moved up from admin. Worried about dealing with unreasonable people, about projects that I’ve put off, about having to present, about having to speak in a meeting, about living up to – or not living up to – whatever expectations my boss and co-workers had. It will be a relief to not have to worry about work, at least for a little while.

Right now I feel like work keeps interrupting my life. What do you mean I can’t work out because I have a meeting? But I need to go to the post office and send more Amazon items. Don’t you see I’m trying to write a blog post here?

Other people’s success. This week I found out two people from my past have had publishing successes, one book and one article in a well-known magazine. I’m really happy for the first person, who is really nice, but I’m blah about the second (okay: it’s someone I dated). I shouldn’t be jealous but I am! Although the book is in a subject that I’d never write about, and it’s not like I’ve been trying to get published, I still feel a pang. I’m trying to take this jealous energy and turn it into something positive – to take a clue from the Secret (shut up) and envision a successful writing career, and work like hell to get myself there.

It’ll take a personality adjustment. While I can get obsessed over projects, I give up sort of easily. With fiction the whole trying to get published process is much slower. You send out your letters or emails, and you wait. With nonfiction you have to move fast fast, especially when writing about timely subjects. You need to network more and get yourself out there. Who knows: maybe it’s the same with fiction, but I just didn’t know it.

awareness / moving / TV — Comments Off
28
Aug 09

Bye-bye Buffy, Goodbye Girls

Now that I’m getting ready to move (again!), I’ve been getting rid of tons of stuff. Last time my focus was on clothes, and I managed to donate several giant garbage bags to Housing Works. This time it’s papers, books, CDs, and DVDs.

Over the weekend I was a shredding machine, obliterating piles of junk mail, old receipts, and files. This has been really freeing. Why for years had I been keeping my ATM receipts and keeping track of them in my checkbook? Even with the advent of online checking, I still kept doing this, and then would try to match my checkbook balance to my balance online. Why??? Last month my balance was so off, I finally decided, Fuck it, and no longer collect those receipts in my wallet like some kind of bag lady collecting newpapers to keep her warm at night.

But what’s been most freeing is selling my DVDs. I started collecting box sets of my favorite TV shows – namely, Buffy the Vampire Slayer and The Gilmore Girls – around the time of my divorce. I didn’t care that reruns for both shows were on all the time. I wanted to be able to watch them whenever I wanted, and to just know that they were there, sitting on my shelf, like a good friend who lives in your town but whom you don’t see very often.

When I moved into in the city, I didn’t have cable right away. So how did I occupy myself every night when I came home to an empty apartment? Watched all my Buffy and Gilmore Girls videos. That was back in 2005, and I probably haven’t watched them again since. But I kept them on my shelf, collecting dust, and didn’t get rid of them when I gave up my place and moved in with MB. We didn’t have much room so I brought them to my office and kept them in a file cabinet. When I changed jobs and offices, I dragged them with me.

Now I’ve sold them off on Amazon. If I made the effort, I could have brought them to San Francisco, or stored them at my parents’ house, but I just don’t need them anymore. It’s not only that I’ve watched all the episodes so many times, I have them memorized, but I feel like they’re from another part of my life, a part that’s behind me. I don’t need Lorelai to comfort me anymore through junk food and witty quips, or Rory to help me feel okay for being nerdy. Buffy no longer has to protect from demons (real or in my head), and I don’t have to gather strength from evil Willow to be a bad ass.

I don’t think it’s as simple as, Now I’m with MB, I don’t need the security of my fave shows anymore. I was probably ready to part with them sooner, the further I moved away from my divorce, the more I remembered who I was outside of a relationship, outside of helping and worrying about other people all the time. I’d like to think by the time I met MB, I had grown (am still growing) and was ready for a relationship.

But not only am I leaving behind some DVDs, I’m leaving an entire city, the city where I met the Ex, got married, got cheated on, and got divorced. Where I started dating again. Now that I’ve resolved that I’m okay with that – not just okay, that I’m excited about it – shucking some TV shows is a piece of cake.

But I’ll still totally watch the reruns on Hulu.

rant and/or rave / work — Comments Off
11
Aug 09

Another dumb job post

Rock Star Communications Manager Needed

Yes, because being a communications manager is *just* like being Gwen Stefani. I totally wear belly shirts and hot pants while I make PowerPoints and write memos. I have four Asian back-up dancers who follow me everywhere and strike poses while I use Sharepoint. My fans cheer and wave lighters when I complete a communication plan and strategy. I yell, “Hello, Conference Room 51, I love you!” while I’m setting up an LCD projector. I ask for BLUE tiny binder clips only and throw a hissy fit if I see a black SMALL binder clip in the mix. I’m fighting my addiction to White Out and aerosol keyboard cleaner.

I am so there with my platforms and Kermit the Frog dress.

rant and/or rave / travel / work — 2 Comments
31
Jul 09

A semi-bad trip

With my new job – well, not really new anymore – I don’t travel as much as I used to. In my previous position, I traveled four or five times a year to places like Orlando, Chicago, and Las Vegas. Now the extent of my journeys are to New Jersey or Connecticut.

Wednesday I went up to CT for training, and lemme tell ya, at first it was the trip that the universe did not want me to take. First off, the rain. If you’re in the tri-state area, you know what I mean. Rain by monsoon proportions, to the point that a bunch of NJ Transit trains were canceled, and many were late.

Including mine. You know when the board at Penn Station says “5 mins late,” it could actually mean up to an hour. Plus the station was super hot and crowded, and you know how I get about crowds and heat. I was actually hoping my train would be canceled altogether so that I could just go home.

The good news: the train was only about 15 minutes late, and I got a window seat. The bad? It was fuh-REE-zing and I was sitting right near these jabbery law students who just took the bar. The good news? They shut up right quick.

There were lots of cabs waiting at the station, unlike the time I went to NJ for work and it was totally deserted till I flagged a policeman down (by mistake) thinking he was a cab. Got to the hotel, the Mystic Marriott, lickety split, and I relished walking into the luxiuriously A/C’d lobby and up to check-in, brandishing my corporate card, only to be told:

“We’re so sorry, but we’ve had some flooding and we’ll have to walk you to another hotel.”

You’re kidding me. All these people hanging out in the restaurant have rooms, but there’s not a single one for me? Plus I was tired and hungry, and now would have to walk in the muggy misty weather with my luggage to another hotel.

“Well no, we’ll get you a taxi.”

Okay, that’s different.

“And the room is on us. Free of charge.”

Sweet! Not that I really cared since my company was picking up the bill.

As I was waiting for the taxi, I called MB to bitch and moan. Then as I was standing there, who walks in but Howie Mandel. Random and weird! He was rocking the shaved head, earrings, and soul patch, and dressed in what looked like motorcycle attire although he had arrived in a minivan with assistant in tow. I interrupted MB to say, too loudly, “Howie Mandel just walked in!” I don’t know if Howie heard me. He just sort of looked around like he was thinking of buying the place. Then I pointed at him and shouted, “NO DEAL!” And all my family members shook their heads.

He was probably performing at Foxwoods or something.

I ended up running into someone else from my company in the same situation, so we shared the cab to the other hotel. This guy was not a happy camper. I told him about my Howie Mandel sighting, and in response he said, “I am pissed off about this hotel situation.” But what bout Howie?

I personally didn’t care. Just as long as I had a decent hotel room I could kick back in and order room service.

The room was pretty nice. It’s a brand new Hilton and my room still had that new carpet smell. The bedding and bathroom were spotless. But then I started to notice little things, like that the bathroom door wouldn’t stay open. Then when I tried to call room service, there was no answer. So I called the front desk and they couldn’t hear me.

Them: “Hello?”

Me: “Hello?”

Them: “Hello?”

Me: “Hello?”

Luckily the other phone worked, but room service was closed! At 10 PM! What the fuck’s the point of room service if you can’t have it till at least 11?

“Dominoe’s delivers,” the guy said, and I hurled a little in my mouth.

I went downstairs and asked if there was anything within walking distance, and was told there was a diner right up the street. It wasn’t far but it’s always weird to walk someplace that’s not made for walking, especially at night and foggy, misty weather. From the road I could see the restaurant was dark, though there was a giant OPEN sign in the doorway. I got closer and saw yes it was indeed closed. A diner closed by 10:30. We’re not on the Lower East Side anymore, Toto.

I schlepped back and mentioned to the guy, not unkindly, “It was closed,” and resigned myself to a frozen dinner (at least the hotel had those). I went to pay and the guy said, “It’s on the house. I made you walk all the way out there and it was closed.”

At least they did that much.

I haven’t had a frozen dinner in I don’t know how many years, and I rememberd why. It was pretty gross. The meatloaf *might* have been meat at some point, and the potatoes smelled and tasted like potatoes, but it felt like I was eating air. Plus it was so freaking hot, I totally burned the roof of my mouth, but then it got lukewarm really fast.

The good news? I was able to catch a Ghost Hunters International (shut up) that I hadn’t seen, the hotel was extremely quiet, and the bed was nice and firm. I slept like a baby for those five hours.

The next morning I was up early to take another cab out to my company site. The guy was one of those chatty, joking types, which I wasn’t in the mood for at 7:30 in the morning on little sleep and not enough coffee. He said, “You’re from New York, aren’t you?” When I affirmed as such, he said, “I knew it! It’s written there right across your forehead.” Then he said it again a few minutes later.

He mentioned apropos of nothing about having been in the army for 30 years. I said, “Oh my boyfriend was in the army for four years – ”

“Boyfriend?” the cabby said. “You’ve been cheating on me?”

Heheh. Okay creepy old guy.

He turned normal though when I just started babbling about all my travel and hotel troubles. Not that I’d ever want to hang out with him again.

The training was fine, neither exciting nor painful. The site in CT is much nicer than in New York – the view for one. They have these floor to ceiling windows, and the building is right on the water so I kept getting distracted looking out at the boats and dipping seagulls.

The trip back home was much less eventful. The weather yesterday was sunny and fairly dry, and the train much less freezing. And I had no annoying seatmate.

Next up: the ‘rents’ this weekend, and Boston and San Francisco next month. Hopefully the universe will be on my side.

rant and/or rave / work — 2 Comments
18
Jul 09

Bitch eat bitch world

I applied for my first job in San Francisco. It’s for a medical association and involves editing, website work, and event planning. Seems right up my alley though it pays much less than my current job (like less than half). But a) at this point I’ll take anything, b) it has good benefits plus 401K, and c) with the stress of a move and living in a new city, an easy job would be ideal.

I don’t know how open they’ll be to possibly interviewing me when I’m there next month, and if they believe I will actually move in early September. But it may take a couple of weeks for them to even get to my resume, and who knows how long the whole process would take, if they’re even interested that is.

I’m pretty much over the disappointment of not being able to work remotely. Now I’m in the bitter phase. I can’t help but think of the rejection of my application as, well, a rejection, and that if they truly valued me, they’d keep me on. Then a certain individual totally pissed me off. She has this habit of not addressing me directly in email; rather she asks the other person if I know something or need something instead of asking me directly. She refers to me in the third person to tell people they can contact me for something.

And yesterday, I sent her an email asking her for something specific, cc’ing my boss. She came back with a question, and no, she didn’t ask me. She asked my boss, and completely ignored me. Even if she thought I didn’t have the answer, she could have at least addressed me, or left me out of the email chain altogether.

And someone else who annoyed me was this pissant little intern we have here for the summer. I had at first pegged her as one of those overly ambitious types, setting up unnecessary meetings to “network,” and blowing her little projects out of proportion. We had lunch, and I temporarily changed my mind, thinking she was pretty nice. I showed her how to set up something in Sharepoint – well, I set it up for her, made from a template I had created long ago – and told her she could customize it.

From our conversation, I knew she didn’t know shit about Sharepoint or HTML, but the next day, she was showing the site to her boss, whose office incidentally is right next to mine, and her boss said, “Wow, you set this up! This looks great!” and the pissant little intern did not correct her but took the credit.

My immediate reaction was, “What the fuck?” Then I checked the site to see if she had changed it: a big fat no.

Wow, people, I guess you don’t want my help with things.

I have to say I’ve only experienced this with female co-workers: the back biting, the passive aggressive attitude, the stealing and competitiveness. In the decade I’ve worked at this company, it’s been women women women who have given me grief. And it’s so retarded because I’m not even ambitious. I just want credit for the work I’ve done.

I’m starting to not feel so bad about possibly leaving.

travel / work — 1 Comment
14
Jul 09

Yesterday I met with my boss about the possibility of working remotely

I made my case, and he said that while he has no doubt that I’d be able to do the work from California, his concern is about my career growth, which is something MB had mentioned, that working off-site might make my job very task-oriented – which to tell the truth, it kind of already is. My boss said he’s going to talk to a few people, and I should have an answer by the end of the week.

We also finally booked our hotel. I had gotten to a point that I was doing so much research that I was paralyzed. MB helped me last night, and ended up picking the one I had originally picked in the first place. But he’d have been happy with whatever I chose. “If I relinquish responsibility,” he said, “I have to be fine with whatever your decision is.”

This is just how a I feel – with freedom of responsibility comes acceptance of whatever the other person decides. But other people don’t feel this way. I’ve been burdened with the responsibility of handling something, then being criticized for my choice afterwards. I’d even go to this individual for feedback during the decision process, only to be met with annoyance.

Anyway, our hotel is in Japantown and is reasonable at $101 a night for a “renovated king” with free wireless. Other nicer hotels were $150 and above, and there were some B&Bs for $80-$120 but I am not sure I’m a B&B person. Also, there was one super cheap place – about $60 a night – that was highly rated on TripAdvisor. Why is it so cheap? Shared bathroom! I had to dig through the reviews to find that tidbit.

I read reviews that the rooms at our choice are small, but what do we care. As long as they’re clean. Plus I can use my Amex points there, which ends up paying for more than half. That means around $200 for four nights, or around $50 a night. Woohoo! My cheap Chinese blood is happy.

After we (hopefully) move, I want to go down to L.A. and see my grandmother. According to my brother and mother, she has really changed in the last few years. When before she was fat and vivacious, with perfectly coifed jet black (dyed) hair, make up, and jewelery, now she’s a bag of bones who doesn’t speak. She’s had a series of strokes over the years, which before just slurred her speech, but now she can’t talk at all. Plus she has let her hair go white. That for some reason makes me saddest of all.

moving / rant and/or rave — 4 Comments
13
Jul 09

What I won’t miss about New York

Rats. Lots and lots of rats. Like in what is supposed to be the secure garbage “cage” in front of the building next door, squealing and squeaking and jumping all over each other as I walk by.

No, I will not miss that about New York.

And do not tell me San Francisco has rats too.

library / moving / writing — 2 Comments
10
Jul 09

TCOB, San Francisco style

For some reason I’ve been having trouble getting into this blog at work. No problem at home. Either something is up with my work server, or my version of Internet Explorer is just too old, and I don’t have permission to install the new version. So now I find myself typing quickly before I lose connection again. Blah.

The possible move to SF has been dominating my thoughts. I made the mistake of telling my mother, “We’re going no matter what,” ie, even if MB and I don’t have jobs set up, and she basically freaked out. I did some quick backtracking and pretended I didn’t say I’d quit my job if they didn’t let me work remotely. Yeesh. You’d think I’d learn by now.

I mentioned the idea of working remotely to my boss last week, and yesterday told him our move was a go for sometime in September. His only experience with a direct report working off-site was a bad one. The person just sort of announced she was doing it and made arrangements, before getting any approval. I never assumed that, and had found the guidelines and application a couple of weeks ago. He seemed surprised there was even an application, which surprised me quitely fankly.

Anyway, I finished up the application yesterday, basically stating my case for why working remotely would be fine, and we have a formal meeting set up for Monday morning. TCOB!

We also bought our plane tickets for a visit in August. Hopefully MB will have some interviews set up for that time, and we’ll look at apartments. Hopefully we’ll have both a job for MB and an apartment by the end of our visit, but at least an apartment. And also hopefully by then I’ll know if working remotely is a go or no-go.

Last weekend I entered the final edits to my memoir. As I post sections I’ll probably edit a little more, but just honing – the structure should be all set. I’m staggering the posts a little more now because I want to get the whole book on Scribd and available for purchase about mid-way through my posts. So it’ll be, “You can keep reading once a week for free, or you can buy the whole thing now for $2.” I also changed the template again! It’s back to how it originally was. I found myself getting mixed up between this and the writing blog. I know the look should be the same, but I thought slightly different would be okay.

Crap! I still have my assignments to do for the London class, a journal and a paper on a specific topic. They’re due mid-August, but I want to get them done soon. I can pull a lot from this blog for the journal, as well as from my notes. As for the paper, I have to pick a topic – I have a few ideas – and do a literature assessment. I’m so not in the mood for it.

moving / writing — 3 Comments
05
Jun 09

Memoir plug, and Palo Alto

Next memoir installment is up.

On another note, MB got an interview for a job in Palo Alto. It seems promising since they say they’re willing to fly him out there.

I think I’ve written that we’d like to live somewhere other than New York. For a while the shortlist included Amsterdam, Prague, and Buenos Aires. I’m flexible. The only requirement is that MB have something secure set up beforehand since it costs money to move.

Of course I’d totally be down with the Bay Area too. It would be easier, but still different from New York. Plus MB would have more of a chance to get a job he actually likes.

As for me, I’d want to see if I could keep my current job and work remotely. In my department people are scattered all over the world. I only see my boss in person two or three times a week, and I do quite a bit of work for someone in the UK. Hell, people down the hall email me. So I have a feeling it would be okay, but who knows.

And I thought we could live in my grandmother’s empty house in Berkeley, if only temporarily. But I talked to my mother and it’s already been put on the market.

It’s still early yet. MB has yet to have the interviews, but it’s fun to think about.

Angela Tung Oversharing on the internet since 2005.