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ok, i wrote a post similar to this, not that long ago, but i’ve been doing a lot of digging into military culture, military brat culture, the way military childhood affected me and others in preparation for what I hope will one day be some sort of book. but that’s not what i want to talk about now.

in the course of poking around on the internet, i found a forum where brats were talking about what it meant to grow up military. one comment in particular totally nailed down how i’ve been feeling lately:

  “I think the experience of finally “settling down” sometimes feels like “settling”, a betrayal of that particular survival instinct that never accepts stasis as a reality … Time displacement lurks in the corners of our souls, and the present tense of our lives is really a rehersal for some mysterious future tense. We have to learn to relax and let our present be our present tense, if that is possible.”

The first line is especially profound for me - one of my greatest fears in life is to wake up one day, five or ten years down the road, and realize i’ve “settled” for a life i didn’t want for myself.  so to counteract this, i do crazy things like start planning another move after i’ve only been in a city for six months, or switch jobs every year or so, or try to travel one week out of every month, or go live in asia for 2 1/2 months.

I also have an impossible time letting the present be the present. for as long as i can remember, i’ve been planning the next stage of my life - which goes back to being afraid of “settling.”  When i was in high school, i planned for college (applied early and got accepted my junior year, actually), when i was in college i rushed through to get married (finished in 2 1/2 years), after i got married, i started racing through cities, jobs, endeavors, ideas. 

for example i’ve always enjoyed writing, but i’ve never felt like i’ve found a specific “passion” on which to hinge my propensity for words. At first it was TV reporting, then it was TV producing, then it was cable TV. Throw in a mix of newspaper writing, PR, even some social minded endeavours and you get a good snap shot of the past few years.

i’m not sure i know how exactly, but i’m pretty confident that my inability to settle has something to do with my propensity to always be searching - whether that be for my passion, a job, a new place to live.

one of the posts on this forum was written by a guy who’s compiling info for a book of his own on what he says is the “sad legacy” of brats. on this point, i have to disagree. It’s true that i can explain a lot of my flaws and shortcomings by looking to how i was raised. (but isn’t that true of any introspective 20-something?) But i also have my upbringing to thank for some of the things i’m most proud of about myself, for some of my greatest relationships - most importantly the one with my family, and some of the most amazing experiences a person could want.

I finally did it. I quit my job. I couldn’t be happier.  granted, i still have about three weeks left till i’m officially unemployed, but i’m so psyched, excited and optimistic about what this will mean for me.

i know, it might come as kind of a surprise after my previous fawning over my  job and declaring how i *did* want to be a corporate business woman. well, a lot has happened, and my attitude has changed a lot since those postings.  in part toward my company - although i still really do believe what in what it’s doing and think it will be a catalyst for change - but mainly toward my job, and the rest of my life.

i’ve been writing about this a lot, just not on my blog - lest somehow someone from my work accidentally stumble upon it before i had made my severance official. i’ll post those entries at some point in the future (probably after i’m actually gone), but the basic jist of it is that i am not a desk person.  this has been my first real desk job, and it has come to really grate on me in these past four months or so. i couldn’t imagine the rest of my life spent this way - even if i did climb the ladder, have more authority and more reign to do what i wanted. i couldn’t imagine that for the rest of my life, my “life” would be someone else’s property.   i realized that if a company as basically good as the one i’m at (although of *course* not with out its flaws - and i’ll post more on that later) couldn’t satisfy me, i would never be happy to work for someone else, and give them my time, my life. for what? in exchange for two weeks of PTO a year? i work weekends, nights, 12 hour days … blahblahblah … and i get TEN DAYS in exchange?!!  now i’m ranting - and it’s not a rant necesarily against my place of employment, but more against corporate America in general.  i may sound cliche - as i’m by no means the first to realize this - but it was stealing my soul.

i think that as more and more people in my generation come to the realization i have, the face of the corporate world will be forced to change to a certain extent. or at least i hope it does, for the sake of the people trapped inside.  we were brought up to know what we want and go for it, to demand nothing less than perfection from ourselves *and* our employers.

anyway, back to my original theme of it being a lot of work to be unemployed.  it’s probably obvious from my above tirade that i will not be proffering my soul to another company.  i’m going to be a freelance writer, and while i know that sounds ambitious (and also kind of cliche) i have high hopes for the future.  it’s been so much work to get to this point, because i wanted to be at a relatively good financial spot with freelance work, before i just jumped without a safety net. so i’ve been working my ass off, getting blogging jobs, article writing jobs, PR jobs, publicist jobs, researching jobs, and on and on.  i’ve been working on the weekends, at night, over my lunch break, and before i go to work in the morning to try and make this happen.  right now i’m not in love with all the jobs i’m doing, but for now they’ll pay the bills and i can refine as i go along, have more time, and become more experienced at the game.

back in the day, the reason i got into journalism was to write. and as the years have gone on, i’ve gotten further and further away from the writing aspects of my jobs until now i have absolutely no writing duties at my current job.  true, that gave me more ability to write in my spare time, but i’ve always wanted my passion to be my job, not my hobby. so that’s the road i’m going down.

i’ve enjoyed my day jobs for the most part - a few years ago i couldn’t imagine doing anything but producing news - but for now they’ve run their course.  i know myself well enough and am not naive enough to think this is it for me.  i won’t be surprised if in a year or two, i’m off to try something new, but at least i will have given this a try - which is what i’ve said about almost everything i’ve done.

ryan’s quit his job also and we have great plans for this next phase in our life.  we’re going to enjoy the sunny days instead of watching them go by from our desks.  we’re going to work from wherever the hell we want to, whenever the hell we want to - at 10 am or 3 am. we’re going to live in japan with my parents for a few months.  then maybe try house swapping (we still want to keep our home base) so we can live in some of our dream cities - new york, london.  who. frikkin. knows.  and if you know me, then you know that those three words make all these sense in the world to me.

so, like i mentioned, i’ve been doing some freelance work.  one place i moonlight is waaaaay out in the boonies of the city - it takes me like an hour to get there. i’ll go out there for a couple hours after i’ve already put in 8 hours at my day job - so needless to say when i’m coming home, it’s pretty late.  fortunately there are two busses (i thought) that run as close as door-to-door as i’m going to get at 9 or 10 pm.  last week i found out there is really only *one* bus that does said door-to-door running - and it’s not the one i initially got on.  i took one bus out to this place, and i went ahead and took the same bus back when i was finished.  only problem is … it stops going as far as i need it to, once it gets past, like 7pm.  after 7, it stops in Seedy McSketchy-ville.

when we got to this point, and the bus driver kicked us all off, i briefly thought of just staying on the bus, riding it back to a safer area, getting off there and catching another bus or a cab.  then i realized, most of the area that bus drives through are sketchy. i’d have to ride it halfway back to where i’d been freelancing before i felt safe getting off in a neighborhood i didn’t know at 10 pm.

i was at least familiar with the area where i had to get off. ironic thing is, it’s actually closer, blocks-wise, to my apartment than the stop i was going to get off at.  but walking home west to east is sketchier than walking home east to west.   that’s just how it is.  one block you’re in a ritzy shopping district, the next, you’re being ushered into a porno store by a homeless crack addict.  not kidding.

so there i was - in ghetto-town, 10 pm, on the corner of meth junkie and crack whore, tall, white, blonde and alone. i wasn’t ABOUT  to walk the (mere) 6 blocks back to my building through that mess. so it took me about .25 seconds to decide to take a cab. well, since meth junkies and crack addicts aren’t known for their common use of cabs, there’s not a WHOLE lot going thru those parts.  thank GOD there was a tiny little donut shop on the corner that’s open 24 hours. i went in there to be partially safe, and call a cab.  while i was on hold with the cab company, i saw a couple taxis go by, so i decided to walk out to the bus stop and try to hail a cab from there.

after a couple seconds i got one to pull over, but he wouldn’t let me in. he asked me where i was going, and when i told him, he refused to take me.  the problem was you can’t turn toward the direction of my apartment from the street he was on - he would have had to circle the block, instead of making a direct turn. he was like, ” go walk down to X street, and catch one there.” the whole POINT of getting a cab was to avoid certain death by walking ANYWHERE.  i told him i didn’t care, he could circle the block, and tried to open the door. then, i SHIT YOU NOT, he DROVE THE FUCK AWAY!  i’m SO not even kidding. i’m a BLONDE, well dressed girl in the middle of the ghetto!  i would’ve paid you double just to let me get in the fucking cab!! but aside from that, it should have been obvious i was in distress!

so anyway, a minute later i hailed another cab, who took me around the block and didn’t bitch at all.  i looked up the website of the first cab company so i could leave feedback, but no such luck.  guess i’ll have to call my complaint in - those bitches are gonna get an earful.

Since i work in TV, and - contrary to popular belief - therefore make a relative pittance, and because I have a spa/clothing/shoe/travel addiction, I’ve been doing some freelance work.  now, like any good 20-something in a big city, i manage to get most of my jobs off of craigslist. so, since things like craigslist exist, i’m sending my resume out online, and i haven’t used a typewriter since i was a kid, i’m forced to believe it’s sometime in the 21st centry. how then, can lines like this one still exist?:

Women and persons of color are encouraged to apply.  

Really?  i mean, the job sounded so complicated, i figured only a man could do it, but then i saw this empathetic note, and wow, now i really feel empowered!  i think i WILL apply!

seriously, what the hell? ok, i get the “equal opportunity employer” thing, and maybe this is just a stipulation that goes along with that.  but it sounds so frikkin condescending. we’re “encouraging” you to apply.  you might just need that little nudge.  thanks, but i’ll apply for whatever the hell jobs i feel like. i don’t need you to give me your blessing.

here’s some of the stuff i’ve been up to.

More writing on hubpages.  The first is a four part series about what “really” happens to your resume/reel when you apply for a job at a TV station - usually they find their way quickly into the trash.  BUT , you’ll find there is HOPE!!  drawing on my (vast =) experience in the broadcasting industry, i talk about some things you can do to better the odds.

and then … in case you work in TV (or want to, or just find it somewhat interesting, or for some reason read my blog), and don’t know if you’re more of a oklahoma girl or a NYC babe, i wrote a discerning two part series on the pros and cons of starting in big market TV, vs starting in small market TV.

enjoy my expertise!!

here’s my first group of entries on HubPages:

it’s about the importance of internships in the TV/Journalism industry.

i’ll write more later …

i’m going to be writing for this website called HubPages. it’s basically a place where people talk about their areas of “expertise,” and give tips and advice in that area. except for the “entertainment” section, where people apparently like to post hot pictures of some of their favorite celebs. i don’t know what that’s about, but i guess somebody’s gotta be an expert on hottness.

anyway, i’m going to be writing a lot about the journalism/TV industry - insider tips and dirt! i’ll be posting the links here when i do, and in the mean time, check out hubpages.com

(Jan. 30, 2007)

Do it now, clean up later.
That’s my new mantra. I know, it can sound a tad self-serving: yah, that guy you’re flirting with? Go ahead and just sleep with him. Deal with the fact that you’re married later.

That’s not what I mean.

Here’s the story. I recently started journaling again – something I haven’t done on a regular basis pretty much since I got married. Until then, it had been an almost religious thing for me, since my dad bought me my first journal when I was like, 8? Or was it 10? Either way, for a very, very long time.

My entries kind of morphed as I grew up. First they were the childish – here’s what happened today, down to the very conversation I had with my best friend. I could afford to be detailed as I wrote almost every single day. Then I wrote a lot (a lot, lot, lot) about boys – a litany of my crushes, my friends crushes, who said what to whom.

When I got into high school I got more philosophical. I started to examine my life more. I looked at my friendships and relationships and asked questions. I tried to figure out why I did what I did, why I interacted with people a certain way, why I was friends with the people I was friends with. Of course I documented occurrences, too. My three serious guy relationships – and a bunch that weren’t so serious … - are there in detail (sorry guys). Drama with my best friend is spelled out.

From these different ways of writing and interacting with myself, I learned a lot about, well, myself. So I made a pact with myself to start writing again on a regular basis. Hey, it’s cheaper than therapy. Although let’s face it, I still need therapy too. Well, my therapist will have something to read anyway.

So today, I was writing about writing. Yes, you read that right. Writing ABOUT writing. See, also back when I journaled more, I wrote in other types of medium, too. Wrote a lot of poetry, even made some decent headway into some “novels” (short stories?) I started working on. This kind of tapered off, and by college it completely stopped. I attribute that to a lot of things – busy-ness for one. Also, a lot of my writing was to work out those crazy feelings I had bottled up inside when I was a teenager and life was WAY more dramatic. Things got a little less (a LITTLE, I say) confusing as I got older, and maybe I didn’t need a way to work things out as much. (Although that’s not entirely true. Just ask my husband – or me – about the first two years of our marriage. Maybe I still NEEDED a way, I just didn’t take it).

So for whatever reason, I haven’t really written anything non-journal related in years and years. I haven’t really had a desire to. And today, as I was pouring this out to my journal, I came to the realization that I think fear is holding me back from being passionate. Maybe. Although I would automatically say the opposite: Psh – I’m way to mature to let my insecurities keep me from going after something I might love. How juvenile.

So the thought process started. As I was getting to know myself through writing this all out, it dawned on me that every time I think about getting back into non-journal writing, I automatically think of how much work it’ll be – all the research I’ll have to do (depending on the subject), the organizing (kind of like writing a REALLY long term paper – ick), the agonizing. And god forbid I try to find a publisher. Work, work, WORK!!! It’s like I’d somehow subconsciously associated something that was once my complete passion (I’d write a chapter of my “book” before I’d do my homework!) with doing a lot of work.

Then I thought about people I know who have complete passion – my friends who are documentary filmmakers, my husband who loves (and has tied up hundreds of thousands of dollars in) real estate, my dad who is in the air force and is consumed (in a good way) with space and secret spy-type stuff (how glam). All those passions require lots of work. So it shouldn’t be a deterrent that a passion would require work.

(of course I’m not saying you should force it – if it’s a lot of work and you don’t absolutely love it, it doesn’t matter. You won’t stick with it. I should know. I have a problem with this, but that’s really another subject.)

so maybe, I thought, it’s not the work requirement so much as I don’t really know how I’ll handle all the work, I don’t know that it’s worth all those things I’ve mentioned, which I associated with my passion (still with me?). maybe, I’m afraid of the work. Not in the way a lazy person is “afraid” of work, but in a way that I’ve translated the work to fear, then associated THAT with writing. Fear in some form is kind of a theme in my life, so it really makes perfect sense.

I enjoy writing, and I think I have a talent for it. I don’t want it to be something that just falls by the wayside in my life. I always thought your passion should just be something you did by default. But maybe sometimes it’s work. Maybe, when you know deep down you love something, but have fallen out of love with it for a season, maybe you have to make a conscious effort to resurrect that love into your life. And be committed to just see what happens.

So that’s my mantra. Do it now. I’m just going to start writing. Maybe little (and by little, I mean epic) blogs like this. maybe I’ll revisit a story I started in high school. And I’ll answer the questions about “how” as they come – I’ll re-learn how to put my words down on paper. I’ll do the research I need if it comes to that point. That’s the “clean up later” part.

Bottom line – I’m going to give it a try. Maybe it’ll end up a casualty of my short attention span, like PR, or social work. I think I’m ok with that though.