At the risk of losing my mind, I have left the house. I know, I don't have any money (it's a side effect of unemployment) so what am I doing whipping out the credit card for a $3 cappuccino? It's simple: it's either small, moderate, only slightly unnecessary spending or therapy, which as we all know is way more expensive than over-priced coffee. So there. I'm justified.
When am I going to find a new job?????!!!!! I am SO not okay with uselessness. But I know I am much more lucky than some. I was listening to NPR yesterday and heard some crazy statistic that last month 516,000 people filed for unemployment for the first time in the US. All I could think was that I was one of those people. Yikes. But I still get to work the occasional shift at the shoe store so it's not like I'm without options. And the other thing is that I am not alone. I have a fabulous boyfriend, amazing parents and great friends to help me through. Not to metion that Lucy the Little Pup and Fatty Cat are great, though often-times demanding companions. So while I may be a statistic on NPR, I'm okay.
Back to it.
NC
Friday, November 14, 2008
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Okay, so maybe I'm toeing over the line here. Maybe I'm venturing into the land of the crazy pet owner by posting not only pictures but videos of my dog. Next thing you know I'll be wearing a tee-shirt that spells out "I *heart* my Chineranian" and carrying her around in a pink rhinestone studded purse. But considering that she is only three-pounds and still has a soft spot on her head, I am both proud and astonished that my itty-bitty little dog has learned to fetch!
Jason took this video last night just about the time she was catching on to the whole 'mama throws the ball and I bring it back' scenario. And yes, that is a normal tennis ball that she is carrying.
We're so proud.
Cheers,
Nicole, Jason and Little Lucy
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Undedermined
Still no job. Not yet, at least. I have been really, really lucky in that the shoe store has given me a few relief shifts here and there. It's odd how much I actually like selling shoes but I'm glad for that as well. I'll be heading in for a shift in a little bit. I'm taking a minute to get some coffee and breakfast before starting.
I left work last night and found I had a flat tire (thank you Ma and Dad for AAA Gold Card!!!!). Considering that I drive a Subaru this really sucks because if the tire can't be fixed then all four will have to be replaced. It's an all-wheel drive car so if one tire is worn differently than the rest then it will throw the differential off. It's like wearing one new and one old shoe. The guy that fixed my tire last night was a character: tall, cowboy boots, handlebar mustache and a Stetson hat. He was clearly timing himself and probably had the whole thing done in less than five minutes. Now my car and I are limping around town on a doughnut until I can get it fixed. I'm not sure how much that will cost and frankly I don't think I want to know yet.
Cheers,
NC
I left work last night and found I had a flat tire (thank you Ma and Dad for AAA Gold Card!!!!). Considering that I drive a Subaru this really sucks because if the tire can't be fixed then all four will have to be replaced. It's an all-wheel drive car so if one tire is worn differently than the rest then it will throw the differential off. It's like wearing one new and one old shoe. The guy that fixed my tire last night was a character: tall, cowboy boots, handlebar mustache and a Stetson hat. He was clearly timing himself and probably had the whole thing done in less than five minutes. Now my car and I are limping around town on a doughnut until I can get it fixed. I'm not sure how much that will cost and frankly I don't think I want to know yet.
Cheers,
NC
Thursday, November 6, 2008
An Old Nemesis...
I went for a second job interview on Tuesday. I put on a great suit, did my hair, applied a little lip gloss and *gasp* donned a pair of nylons. Such are the lengths I will go to earn a paycheck.... Anyway, I also prepared in my head a list of questions that I might be asked and then I answered them, just to practice. I recited to myself the answer to my least favorite question: "what would you say your greatest weakness is?". I came up with a list of questions I had about the company: how would I be evaluated? What is their turn over? Is the complimentary coffee in the break room from Farmers Brothers or Starbucks?
But when I got there I was led to a small room and presented with a three-page math test. Yeah. I was not prepared for this. I had gone there thinking I was going to be interviewed. Silly me.
Didn't this company believe in calculators? Didn't they see on my resume that I did in fact graduate from high school and college? Isn't that proof enough that I can do basic math? Why, I wanted to know, was I being faced with three black and white pages of potential humiliation? Screw up just one simple question that an elementary school kid could do and boom--you're done. I made some half-hearted joke that I have an English Lit degree. I smiled and pretended not to panic. I believe I even chimed "No problem!" as the woman interviewing me left the room. She left. I panicked.
I hate math! I have always hated math! Well, not always...I used to like it until I got to 4th grade. That was where I had a teacher who resembled a troll and had one hell of a case of halitosis (she could stink up a room with a single word--I kid you not). When we would grade our tests we had to call out in front of the whole class how many we got wrong. God help the kids who did poorly. With each bad mark the kids would send up a chorus of "Oooooooooo!" just so you knew that you sucked and your existence on this planet was being called into question. Ms. Troll would allow and therefore encourage the chastising. My grades suffered so my parents sent me to a nun at a freaking convent for tutoring, but she was even worse. She didn't carry a ruler, she just ate your soul.
And now here I was: grown up, wearing a suit and flipping through a math test. I had done just fine in life without this sort of thing. I grumbled, sighed, and even got a little flushed in my face. Somewhere in the back of my head I could hear Ms. Troll screaming with sick delight, "you'll never make in life if you can't master math!" That bitch even cackled.
So I completed the test and, with the exception of two questions, did just fine. But I was shaky, rattled and now off my usually confident game. If there was a math test, what else? Would they be calling in character witnesses? Asking to see my high school senior thesis? A cavity search? I mean, really! If they had already digressed me back to my self-conscious 11-year-old self, what was next? Maybe this was all part of their evil plan, I thought. They wanted to see how you did under pressure and then, THEN they would bring out the big questions. You know, the topics that actually pertain to who you are and what you bring to the job you are being considered for. Maybe they wanted to see me squirm...
I gathered myself and straightened my skirt. I would not be intimidated. I've done harder things than this, I thought. I've given presentations to boards, I've landed huge deals. Hell, my first sale on Saturday at the shoe store was over $600.00 and that was before I'd finished my morning coffee. I know I can do sales. I know I can do customer service. I am creative, I am quick, I am driven and I can play well with others, damnit. So no, Ms. Troll, you don't have to "master math" to make it in life. I got my chutzpah back and had the uncanny desire to track down the troll and tell her off.
I'm not sure if I'll be getting that job. This is odd for me because I've never interviewed for a position and not been hired. But not everybody fits in everywhere, as my dad so aptly pointed out. If we did the world would be a very boring, gray place.
So it's back to the drawing board for me. I've been combing through websites and writing cover letters with the best of them. I'm sure something will come along soon and as when I know where the next playground will be, I'll let you know.
Cheers,
NC
Song of the day: Breakable by Ingrid Michaelson
But when I got there I was led to a small room and presented with a three-page math test. Yeah. I was not prepared for this. I had gone there thinking I was going to be interviewed. Silly me.
Didn't this company believe in calculators? Didn't they see on my resume that I did in fact graduate from high school and college? Isn't that proof enough that I can do basic math? Why, I wanted to know, was I being faced with three black and white pages of potential humiliation? Screw up just one simple question that an elementary school kid could do and boom--you're done. I made some half-hearted joke that I have an English Lit degree. I smiled and pretended not to panic. I believe I even chimed "No problem!" as the woman interviewing me left the room. She left. I panicked.
I hate math! I have always hated math! Well, not always...I used to like it until I got to 4th grade. That was where I had a teacher who resembled a troll and had one hell of a case of halitosis (she could stink up a room with a single word--I kid you not). When we would grade our tests we had to call out in front of the whole class how many we got wrong. God help the kids who did poorly. With each bad mark the kids would send up a chorus of "Oooooooooo!" just so you knew that you sucked and your existence on this planet was being called into question. Ms. Troll would allow and therefore encourage the chastising. My grades suffered so my parents sent me to a nun at a freaking convent for tutoring, but she was even worse. She didn't carry a ruler, she just ate your soul.
And now here I was: grown up, wearing a suit and flipping through a math test. I had done just fine in life without this sort of thing. I grumbled, sighed, and even got a little flushed in my face. Somewhere in the back of my head I could hear Ms. Troll screaming with sick delight, "you'll never make in life if you can't master math!" That bitch even cackled.
So I completed the test and, with the exception of two questions, did just fine. But I was shaky, rattled and now off my usually confident game. If there was a math test, what else? Would they be calling in character witnesses? Asking to see my high school senior thesis? A cavity search? I mean, really! If they had already digressed me back to my self-conscious 11-year-old self, what was next? Maybe this was all part of their evil plan, I thought. They wanted to see how you did under pressure and then, THEN they would bring out the big questions. You know, the topics that actually pertain to who you are and what you bring to the job you are being considered for. Maybe they wanted to see me squirm...
I gathered myself and straightened my skirt. I would not be intimidated. I've done harder things than this, I thought. I've given presentations to boards, I've landed huge deals. Hell, my first sale on Saturday at the shoe store was over $600.00 and that was before I'd finished my morning coffee. I know I can do sales. I know I can do customer service. I am creative, I am quick, I am driven and I can play well with others, damnit. So no, Ms. Troll, you don't have to "master math" to make it in life. I got my chutzpah back and had the uncanny desire to track down the troll and tell her off.
I'm not sure if I'll be getting that job. This is odd for me because I've never interviewed for a position and not been hired. But not everybody fits in everywhere, as my dad so aptly pointed out. If we did the world would be a very boring, gray place.
So it's back to the drawing board for me. I've been combing through websites and writing cover letters with the best of them. I'm sure something will come along soon and as when I know where the next playground will be, I'll let you know.
Cheers,
NC
Song of the day: Breakable by Ingrid Michaelson
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Fate
On Monday I was officially laid off. This news came about ten minutes after hearing that my fallback job (shoes) was also not going to pan out because they too were going through a round of layoffs. Scary? Um...a little. I'd never been laid off before.
I was told that my last day would be Friday, October 31st.
So I went home, grabbed one of our homemade oatmeal stouts and headed for the garage. Because I knew my end at the magazine was just around the corner, I had already scheduled an appointment with a headhunter. Our first interview was for the next day, so even though I had only been laid off for about an hour, I was already in job search mode. I needed to clean up my resume, write a couple cover letters and find my interview suits to get ready. Of course, when I had left my old job in June of 2007 I had absolutely no intention to ever wear my old, heavy, constricting suits again. The only reason I had kept them was because they cost so much and I didn't want to be without. True to my nature, I had only kept them based on the patented Ma Chilton "just in case" philosophy. Begrudgingly, I pulled out my old clothes from my days in Eugene. I unfolded sweater sets, evaluated my conservative heels and wondered whether my old skirts would fit. Essentially, I was not happy to be elbow-deep in boring wool suits that had the distinct odor of moth balls. I slammed a few boxes on the ground. I stomped my foot. After a few angry minutes of digging, drinking and kicking, I scooped up my haul and, with some degree of consternation, deposited them on the laundry room floor.
Returning to the garage I dove into a box of books in search of my very professional looking black leather folder. More than anything, it's a prop for interviews. Sure it keeps my files and resumes in order, but basically it just looks good. As I was extracting the folder I came across my college text books. I was thumbing through them, remembering the days when I actually believed my guidance counselors when they said brightly/ignorantly, "you can do anything you want with an English lit degree!" Bullshit, I thought, as my eyes ran over a section of Milton's Paradise Lost. You most certainly cannot do anything. You can do a lot of things but "anything" is not one of them.
As I was just about to storm off into the house for another beer, Jason pulled up. Smiling and calm, he walked up to me with a dozen long stem red roses in one hand and a Costco-sized box of Dove chocolates in the other. He hugged me, told me it would all be okay and that we would get through this. I started to cry. He then walked me inside, sat me down and we spent the night eating pizza, drinking beer, playing dominoes and just taking it easy. I am a lucky, lucky girl.
I've sent my resume out to a few businesses in town and have managed to snag an interview for tomorrow. The job would be perfect for me and I'm really hoping I'll get it. But that is all I'm going to say because I don't want to jinx it. And as I've been bragging about my chocolate and rose toting boyfriend to anyone who will listen, he said he's happy to brag that even though his girl got laid off on a Monday she had a job interview lined up before the end of the week.
Take that, world--we're going to be just fine.
Cheers,
NC
Song of the day: Move Along by the All-American Rejects
I was told that my last day would be Friday, October 31st.
So I went home, grabbed one of our homemade oatmeal stouts and headed for the garage. Because I knew my end at the magazine was just around the corner, I had already scheduled an appointment with a headhunter. Our first interview was for the next day, so even though I had only been laid off for about an hour, I was already in job search mode. I needed to clean up my resume, write a couple cover letters and find my interview suits to get ready. Of course, when I had left my old job in June of 2007 I had absolutely no intention to ever wear my old, heavy, constricting suits again. The only reason I had kept them was because they cost so much and I didn't want to be without. True to my nature, I had only kept them based on the patented Ma Chilton "just in case" philosophy. Begrudgingly, I pulled out my old clothes from my days in Eugene. I unfolded sweater sets, evaluated my conservative heels and wondered whether my old skirts would fit. Essentially, I was not happy to be elbow-deep in boring wool suits that had the distinct odor of moth balls. I slammed a few boxes on the ground. I stomped my foot. After a few angry minutes of digging, drinking and kicking, I scooped up my haul and, with some degree of consternation, deposited them on the laundry room floor.
Returning to the garage I dove into a box of books in search of my very professional looking black leather folder. More than anything, it's a prop for interviews. Sure it keeps my files and resumes in order, but basically it just looks good. As I was extracting the folder I came across my college text books. I was thumbing through them, remembering the days when I actually believed my guidance counselors when they said brightly/ignorantly, "you can do anything you want with an English lit degree!" Bullshit, I thought, as my eyes ran over a section of Milton's Paradise Lost. You most certainly cannot do anything. You can do a lot of things but "anything" is not one of them.
As I was just about to storm off into the house for another beer, Jason pulled up. Smiling and calm, he walked up to me with a dozen long stem red roses in one hand and a Costco-sized box of Dove chocolates in the other. He hugged me, told me it would all be okay and that we would get through this. I started to cry. He then walked me inside, sat me down and we spent the night eating pizza, drinking beer, playing dominoes and just taking it easy. I am a lucky, lucky girl.
I've sent my resume out to a few businesses in town and have managed to snag an interview for tomorrow. The job would be perfect for me and I'm really hoping I'll get it. But that is all I'm going to say because I don't want to jinx it. And as I've been bragging about my chocolate and rose toting boyfriend to anyone who will listen, he said he's happy to brag that even though his girl got laid off on a Monday she had a job interview lined up before the end of the week.
Take that, world--we're going to be just fine.
Cheers,
NC
Song of the day: Move Along by the All-American Rejects
Sunday, October 26, 2008
A Brief Moment
Well, the magazine I work for has been discontinued. That's right. Done. The rest of the company is still around, and will continue to grow and expand, but the magazine that I sold advertising for has been discontinued. Nothing official has happened with my job yet (and I probably shouldn't speculate about my fate on a public blog) but, just so you all know, this is what is happening in my life right now.
This all came to a head last week at the same time that my parents were here visiting. We'd had a great weekend with them. Jason took dad hunting on the ranch (the ranch is a cattle ranch near Red Lodge that is owned by the company Jason works for. They have a hydo project on the land so he is out there fairly often). Ma and I shopped, reviewed all relevant gossip and basically got a chance to just be. The four of us talked, laughed and ordered more than a few rounds. It's great to be able to hang out with your parents while getting drunk and talking shit over a game of dominos... And I mean that.
Anyway, family traditions aside, we made sure that Ma and Pa saw all the highlights: Virgina City, the town of Red Lodge, the Wild Bill Museum, Yellowstone (complete with a grizzly eating an elk while being circled by wolves), four-point bucks jumping over wooden fences at sunset in the snow, two of the hydro projects that Jason works on and downtown Bozeman. It was a great trip and I was so glad they came out.
I guess that's it for now. As soon as I know what my fate will be I'll let everyone else know.
Cheers,
NC
This all came to a head last week at the same time that my parents were here visiting. We'd had a great weekend with them. Jason took dad hunting on the ranch (the ranch is a cattle ranch near Red Lodge that is owned by the company Jason works for. They have a hydo project on the land so he is out there fairly often). Ma and I shopped, reviewed all relevant gossip and basically got a chance to just be. The four of us talked, laughed and ordered more than a few rounds. It's great to be able to hang out with your parents while getting drunk and talking shit over a game of dominos... And I mean that.
Anyway, family traditions aside, we made sure that Ma and Pa saw all the highlights: Virgina City, the town of Red Lodge, the Wild Bill Museum, Yellowstone (complete with a grizzly eating an elk while being circled by wolves), four-point bucks jumping over wooden fences at sunset in the snow, two of the hydro projects that Jason works on and downtown Bozeman. It was a great trip and I was so glad they came out.
I guess that's it for now. As soon as I know what my fate will be I'll let everyone else know.
Cheers,
NC
Friday, September 19, 2008
A Summer Recap
Tonight I've found a rare quiet moment to get caught up on this blog and myself for that matter. It has been such a busy summer. Jason and I were trying to add up the thousands of miles we've driven this summer and I think we got lost somewhere after 5,000 (hey--he produces green energy for a living so don't even try to wag your finger at our carbon footprint). So what's the tally? Where have we been? Between the two of us, we've been to Oregon twice, White Fish, Salt Lake City, Great Falls three times and then drove to Seattle and flew from there to Hawaii. We've been home fewer weekends than we've been away. And we've also had a house guest or two, making the summer all that more enjoyable. And it has been so much fun, almost so that I'm a bit sad to see the summer end. But now, with the distinctive chill in the air and pumpkin motifs popping up in the grocery stores, I can honestly say that I'm looking forward to a cozy and maybe even quiet fall.
Tonight Jason is in Great Falls for his niece's birthday. I was at the synagogue for services tonight so I'll follow him there tomorrow for the rest of the weekend. We recently said goodbye to one of our roommates (the same roommate that accused my cat of pooping in his room) and the other two roommates are either on a trip or gone for the night. So strangely, I'm here alone for the first time in at least two months. It's been a challenge living with four other boys, a cat and occasionally a dog (long story about the dog--don't ask). The one roommate, a.k.a. The Perfect Roommate and/or Best Roommate Ever is so quiet and discreet that it's like he doesn't live here at all. He also pays on time, never causes a fuss, and when we do see him he's a pretty cool guy to talk to. The other roommate is a friend of Jason and I. He works for the Montana Conservation Corps so he's gone three weeks out of four. But when he is here, we have a great time cooking and hanging out together. It's sort of akin to being back in the dorms where ones home was also the center of their social life. And when Jason and I are both here, we're usually cooking, gardening, cleaning, watching a moving, talking, chasing the cat--basically keeping very busy. Needless to say, these quiet moments are very rare for all of us.
What's funny for me is that nights light these, where it's just me, good music, a glass of wine and the laptop used to be my standard evenings. It was easy to keep up on my writing and reading then. The routine was come home, eat, kick up my feet and start typing or grab a book. These days I actually have a social life and home isn't as quiet as it used to be. Not that I'm complaining--it's just startling to make the comparrison between then and now. I'm a lucky girl.
So besides lots of travel, parties, plans and activity, what did we do? Well, we went tubing on the Madison, ate lots of salads from our garden, swam with sea turtles in Hawaii, bbq'd our hearts out, made new friends, visited with my parents in Oregon, hung out with Chris in Maupin for an afternoon, wandered through Pike Place Market, perfected Thom Kha soup, saw the Bison with Jeff in Yellowstone, soaked in some great hot springs and watched plenty of suns set to the sound of bellowing donkeys. To sum it up, we had a great time.
Ma and Pa will be flying out next month to spend a week with Jason and I. Dad is looking forward to bird hunting with him at the ranch (Jason's company owns a ranch where they have a hydro project) and Ma is looking forward to some quality girl time. It will be great to be able to show them around Bozeman and to hang out with them some more.
Lately I've been attached to an album by Ethan Hipple & Podunk Road (http://www.ethanhipple.com/) circa 2005. It's called Prairie and from when I can tell, it's the only cd the group produced. That, and their myspace page hasn't been visited since 2007...BUT it's a fabulous collection of music. They do a gorgeous version of Wagon Wheel (Old Crow Medicine Show) that just splits me.
They also have this verse on one of their tracks: "I got the blues so bad one time I put my face in a permanent frown, but I'm feeling so much better I can cake walk into town." Well isn't that just the truth for me.
Cheers,
Nicole
Tonight Jason is in Great Falls for his niece's birthday. I was at the synagogue for services tonight so I'll follow him there tomorrow for the rest of the weekend. We recently said goodbye to one of our roommates (the same roommate that accused my cat of pooping in his room) and the other two roommates are either on a trip or gone for the night. So strangely, I'm here alone for the first time in at least two months. It's been a challenge living with four other boys, a cat and occasionally a dog (long story about the dog--don't ask). The one roommate, a.k.a. The Perfect Roommate and/or Best Roommate Ever is so quiet and discreet that it's like he doesn't live here at all. He also pays on time, never causes a fuss, and when we do see him he's a pretty cool guy to talk to. The other roommate is a friend of Jason and I. He works for the Montana Conservation Corps so he's gone three weeks out of four. But when he is here, we have a great time cooking and hanging out together. It's sort of akin to being back in the dorms where ones home was also the center of their social life. And when Jason and I are both here, we're usually cooking, gardening, cleaning, watching a moving, talking, chasing the cat--basically keeping very busy. Needless to say, these quiet moments are very rare for all of us.
What's funny for me is that nights light these, where it's just me, good music, a glass of wine and the laptop used to be my standard evenings. It was easy to keep up on my writing and reading then. The routine was come home, eat, kick up my feet and start typing or grab a book. These days I actually have a social life and home isn't as quiet as it used to be. Not that I'm complaining--it's just startling to make the comparrison between then and now. I'm a lucky girl.
So besides lots of travel, parties, plans and activity, what did we do? Well, we went tubing on the Madison, ate lots of salads from our garden, swam with sea turtles in Hawaii, bbq'd our hearts out, made new friends, visited with my parents in Oregon, hung out with Chris in Maupin for an afternoon, wandered through Pike Place Market, perfected Thom Kha soup, saw the Bison with Jeff in Yellowstone, soaked in some great hot springs and watched plenty of suns set to the sound of bellowing donkeys. To sum it up, we had a great time.
Ma and Pa will be flying out next month to spend a week with Jason and I. Dad is looking forward to bird hunting with him at the ranch (Jason's company owns a ranch where they have a hydro project) and Ma is looking forward to some quality girl time. It will be great to be able to show them around Bozeman and to hang out with them some more.
Lately I've been attached to an album by Ethan Hipple & Podunk Road (http://www.ethanhipple.com/) circa 2005. It's called Prairie and from when I can tell, it's the only cd the group produced. That, and their myspace page hasn't been visited since 2007...BUT it's a fabulous collection of music. They do a gorgeous version of Wagon Wheel (Old Crow Medicine Show) that just splits me.
They also have this verse on one of their tracks: "I got the blues so bad one time I put my face in a permanent frown, but I'm feeling so much better I can cake walk into town." Well isn't that just the truth for me.
Cheers,
Nicole
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Sunsets, Donkies and Strategic Pooping
When I was in high school I used to sit on my parents front step and watch the sunsets. I'd usually go out at night after dinner, just before the mosquitoes started to get really bad. It was quiet and peaceful out there and I could hear myself think. I sat in a nice rocking chair we had given my dad one father's day and I could watch the sky turn pink and and pale peach through the haze of Ohio humidity. It was wonderful.
It's been a really long time since I've done that, but tonight after my walk I found myself sitting on our front stoop watching the sky turn colors again. At the end of our subdivision there is a little farm that hasn't sold out yet. Just about every night, without fail, the donkey who watches over the sheep and chickens will scream out his distinctive call. The first time he did it I nearly jumped off the ground from fright, but now it just seems soothing in a weird way. Within a few minutes of sitting down he shouted out his messy declaration that the day was done. His formality was a comfort.
So I sat there watching the sunset and just thought for a while. I could hear myself think and breath and I was relieved to have the space to do it in. There are five people, one dog and one cat living in this house these days. It's crowded to say the least. I like my space and my solitude. It's not that I'm anti-social, it's just that down time is important in my little world and there hasn't been much of it lately. Not that this is a bad thing. Jason and I have been enjoying the summer with lots of trips, bbq's and parties. It's been good. But if I'm not with him, then I'm at work. It doesn't leave a whole lot of time for curling up with a book and Fatty Cat, which is how I used to unwind in my single days.
And speaking of Roscoe, a.k.a, Fatty, Roo, Rooster and, most recently, Roscoski, he has settled into life in Montana just fine. He just occasionally takes issue with the dog. Oh yes--the dog. Leila is a small, three-pound, Pomeranian Jason adopted. She's sweet with tiny little marble eyes and a delicate, somewhat petite personality. Roscoe, on the other hand, is 20 pounds of opinionated, bossy, hungry fur. The two create quite a contrast. However, he has been a good cat since getting here regardless of the ill-founded accusation from one of my roommates that he pooped in his room. I maintain that it was Leila (the cat and dog poop looks similar--not that I'm looking that close...). But I will say that if that particular roommate ticked Roscoe off enough for him to poop on the carpet, (something that he has never done once in his five years of life) then whatever he did was probably bad enough to deserve that and more. In his day Roscoe has chewed on shoes, knocked breakables off the counters, unpotted/mauled/eaten house plants, attacked various pieces of furniture and drank out of the toilet bowl, but he has never once pooped out of spite. He has drug his butt across an ex-boyfriends pillow, but that is as close as he has come to using poop as a weapon. So again, I sincerely doubt that Roscoe was the culprit. If he could, I'm sure he'd sue for libel...
So there I was, on the step, thinking about cat vs. dog poop and the motives behind it. I watched the birds, listened to the Canadian geese and contemplated how nice it would be to befriend the pleasant lesbian couple across the street (they have two Subarus, a Smart Car, a cat that they walk on a leash and beautifully maintained flower beds--why not?). I also thought about the garden which was pummeled to a bloody green pulp by that awful hail storm the other night (the lettuce and corn was all that survived) and the pock marks on my car from said hail storm and the nauseating fact that it will cost a few hundred bucks to fix. I contemplated all that work that is waiting for me tomorrow at my desk and did my best to try to calculate how much I could get done before the week was out. I thought about taking a second job again to have a little bit more money in my bank account. And on the topic of money my brain wondered down the path of assessing my not so strong assets and wondering if I will ever really get ahead. And then my eye caught a glimpse of the lovely rock I took with me from Sinks Canyon, Wyoming as a souvenir of my time in the mountains. I picked it up and turned it over and over in my palm until my mind started spinning around the man who disappeared last fall. I helped with that search and it a was major effort, but they couldn't find him before winter hit. They found him last month at the base of cliff. And then, of course, I started thinking about people I miss and also some people I don't. And then I started going through that list in my head of all the people I need to meet at the trade show next month. I was ticking through the appointment list and making mental notes of what I need to do to prepare until I inevitably switched to the "what to wear" category of worry that comes with being a woman and before I knew it I was mentally packing my suitcase.
Me? Oh just fine. Really. Fine and freaking dandy.
So I sat there, stared at that gorgeous, gentle sunset and did my best to breath. And then I thought, "I am an adult, this is life, and every single person in these lovely craftsman style homes has worries similar or even worse than mine. Nicki, put on your big girl panties and get over it."
And then a blue heron flew across the sky. For whatever reason, these creatures have always seemed like guardians to me. Tall, handsome and so full of grace without a hint of smugness they are a mark of calm elegance. He was alive, high above it all, gliding through all that ethereal pink.
Down the street the donkey cried out again. He's a persistent bastard, I'll give him that, but he's right: The day is over and it's time to give it up and go to bed.
Cheers,
NC
Song of the day: Apologies by Grace Potter and the Nocturnals
It's been a really long time since I've done that, but tonight after my walk I found myself sitting on our front stoop watching the sky turn colors again. At the end of our subdivision there is a little farm that hasn't sold out yet. Just about every night, without fail, the donkey who watches over the sheep and chickens will scream out his distinctive call. The first time he did it I nearly jumped off the ground from fright, but now it just seems soothing in a weird way. Within a few minutes of sitting down he shouted out his messy declaration that the day was done. His formality was a comfort.
So I sat there watching the sunset and just thought for a while. I could hear myself think and breath and I was relieved to have the space to do it in. There are five people, one dog and one cat living in this house these days. It's crowded to say the least. I like my space and my solitude. It's not that I'm anti-social, it's just that down time is important in my little world and there hasn't been much of it lately. Not that this is a bad thing. Jason and I have been enjoying the summer with lots of trips, bbq's and parties. It's been good. But if I'm not with him, then I'm at work. It doesn't leave a whole lot of time for curling up with a book and Fatty Cat, which is how I used to unwind in my single days.
And speaking of Roscoe, a.k.a, Fatty, Roo, Rooster and, most recently, Roscoski, he has settled into life in Montana just fine. He just occasionally takes issue with the dog. Oh yes--the dog. Leila is a small, three-pound, Pomeranian Jason adopted. She's sweet with tiny little marble eyes and a delicate, somewhat petite personality. Roscoe, on the other hand, is 20 pounds of opinionated, bossy, hungry fur. The two create quite a contrast. However, he has been a good cat since getting here regardless of the ill-founded accusation from one of my roommates that he pooped in his room. I maintain that it was Leila (the cat and dog poop looks similar--not that I'm looking that close...). But I will say that if that particular roommate ticked Roscoe off enough for him to poop on the carpet, (something that he has never done once in his five years of life) then whatever he did was probably bad enough to deserve that and more. In his day Roscoe has chewed on shoes, knocked breakables off the counters, unpotted/mauled/eaten house plants, attacked various pieces of furniture and drank out of the toilet bowl, but he has never once pooped out of spite. He has drug his butt across an ex-boyfriends pillow, but that is as close as he has come to using poop as a weapon. So again, I sincerely doubt that Roscoe was the culprit. If he could, I'm sure he'd sue for libel...
So there I was, on the step, thinking about cat vs. dog poop and the motives behind it. I watched the birds, listened to the Canadian geese and contemplated how nice it would be to befriend the pleasant lesbian couple across the street (they have two Subarus, a Smart Car, a cat that they walk on a leash and beautifully maintained flower beds--why not?). I also thought about the garden which was pummeled to a bloody green pulp by that awful hail storm the other night (the lettuce and corn was all that survived) and the pock marks on my car from said hail storm and the nauseating fact that it will cost a few hundred bucks to fix. I contemplated all that work that is waiting for me tomorrow at my desk and did my best to try to calculate how much I could get done before the week was out. I thought about taking a second job again to have a little bit more money in my bank account. And on the topic of money my brain wondered down the path of assessing my not so strong assets and wondering if I will ever really get ahead. And then my eye caught a glimpse of the lovely rock I took with me from Sinks Canyon, Wyoming as a souvenir of my time in the mountains. I picked it up and turned it over and over in my palm until my mind started spinning around the man who disappeared last fall. I helped with that search and it a was major effort, but they couldn't find him before winter hit. They found him last month at the base of cliff. And then, of course, I started thinking about people I miss and also some people I don't. And then I started going through that list in my head of all the people I need to meet at the trade show next month. I was ticking through the appointment list and making mental notes of what I need to do to prepare until I inevitably switched to the "what to wear" category of worry that comes with being a woman and before I knew it I was mentally packing my suitcase.
Me? Oh just fine. Really. Fine and freaking dandy.
So I sat there, stared at that gorgeous, gentle sunset and did my best to breath. And then I thought, "I am an adult, this is life, and every single person in these lovely craftsman style homes has worries similar or even worse than mine. Nicki, put on your big girl panties and get over it."
And then a blue heron flew across the sky. For whatever reason, these creatures have always seemed like guardians to me. Tall, handsome and so full of grace without a hint of smugness they are a mark of calm elegance. He was alive, high above it all, gliding through all that ethereal pink.
Down the street the donkey cried out again. He's a persistent bastard, I'll give him that, but he's right: The day is over and it's time to give it up and go to bed.
Cheers,
NC
Song of the day: Apologies by Grace Potter and the Nocturnals
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Maybe Montana
Hello All,
I have a bit of announcement to make. It's been a long time coming, but being a fairly un-trusting individual (a couple years in corporate sales will do that to a person) I wasn't willing to post about it right away. But now, after oh, a whole freaking month, I feel it's high time I made it official: I, Nicole HAVE A REAL JOB. Yes, it's true--a legitimate, paying, health insurance included gig. No longer am I trapped in intern-hood at the age of 26. I am now employed. I know, I was shocked, too. But here I am: Employed, coupled, and living in Montana. And, if you can believe it, the craziest thing of all is that I AM HAPPY.
I believe the phrase you're searching for is "holy shit".
So here it is: the end of a year. I started on June 17, 2007 driving like a mad woman out of Oregon headed toward Wyoming to start a new life. I wanted freedom, anonymity, a fresh start and a new career. I wanted a better, healthier and happier life and frankly, I didn't care what I was giving up in the fabled, mythical land called Eugene, Oregon. Quite suddenly I went from being an employed pre-adult working in corporate sales to being a publications intern/cocktail waitress/dog and house sitter in Wyoming. Odd...to say the least.
Then I headed north, against better judgement (that judgement being to go back to Oregon for grad school instead of yet another internship) and found myself in the painfully frozen town of Bozeman, MT. And if there was a theme to go with my first six months in Montana, it would have been "rough starts". My internship, finding a second job, getting health and car insurance, finding a social life (never did quite get that one off the ground), my living situations and even my relationship with Jason, were all bumpy and painful or unpleasant to begin with. By February 15th I decided to throw in the towel and planned to leave on March 15th. But life happened and I ended up in Ohio helping to take care of my Mom and Dad and I completely forgot about plans to leave. I came back to Bozeman on the 14th exhausted, but somehow rejuvenated by gratitude. On the 15th, the day that I was supposed to be leaving Bozeman in a trail of frozen dust and neurotic cynicism, I started dating Jason. It's funny how life stepped in front of me the way it did. Sort of like a train hitting a brick wall... Anyway, after coming back from Ohio I wasn't going anywhere. And then in June the magazine I was interning with offered me a job and suddenly, I was living and working Bozeman, MT.
The day after meeting with my bosses over coffee and cheesecake I woke up with the strange sensation that I had been given a second chance. I was happy. HAPPY. Me, the girl who has been hopping from one fit of melancholy to the next since infancy, was content. Sure, I still had my daily freak outs and ranting fits (just ask Robin), but all and all, I was good. When I had left Oregon I had gone with the desire to land a job at an outdoor magazine. I wanted to be in a town that wasn't too big or too small; that had art, culture, entertainment and the outdoors spilling out its seems. I wanted to be in a place filled with natural beauty and surrounded by trails. I wanted to find a guy and fall in love. And much to my surprise, I found it.
That's not to say that I've reached some sort of pinnacle in life and that I'm done building and changing who I am. There are new goals that I'm working toward now. It will be interesting to see where I end up, but if I can come this far in a year I'm fairly hopeful for where I will be another twelve months.
So here I am. I live in Bozeman and work as the advertising/publications sales manager for an outdoor magazine. I also do some writing and editing for them so I'm not completely out of the literary industry. I have a desk in front of a window and co-workers that I not only like, but enjoy working with. I like going to work in the morning, but I also like coming home at night. It's great to finally have that balance.
So now what? I used to post to this blog every day (it's easy to do when you don't have a social life and it's disgustingly cold outside) but life got busy and then it got weird. I needed some time off to reevaluate who I am, where I am and just what this blog is about. And now that I've done that I think I have a better grasp on it and on me. I'm not the same person I used to be, but I'm not that different either. Life is just altered and new.
Lucky me.
NC
I have a bit of announcement to make. It's been a long time coming, but being a fairly un-trusting individual (a couple years in corporate sales will do that to a person) I wasn't willing to post about it right away. But now, after oh, a whole freaking month, I feel it's high time I made it official: I, Nicole HAVE A REAL JOB. Yes, it's true--a legitimate, paying, health insurance included gig. No longer am I trapped in intern-hood at the age of 26. I am now employed. I know, I was shocked, too. But here I am: Employed, coupled, and living in Montana. And, if you can believe it, the craziest thing of all is that I AM HAPPY.
I believe the phrase you're searching for is "holy shit".
So here it is: the end of a year. I started on June 17, 2007 driving like a mad woman out of Oregon headed toward Wyoming to start a new life. I wanted freedom, anonymity, a fresh start and a new career. I wanted a better, healthier and happier life and frankly, I didn't care what I was giving up in the fabled, mythical land called Eugene, Oregon. Quite suddenly I went from being an employed pre-adult working in corporate sales to being a publications intern/cocktail waitress/dog and house sitter in Wyoming. Odd...to say the least.
Then I headed north, against better judgement (that judgement being to go back to Oregon for grad school instead of yet another internship) and found myself in the painfully frozen town of Bozeman, MT. And if there was a theme to go with my first six months in Montana, it would have been "rough starts". My internship, finding a second job, getting health and car insurance, finding a social life (never did quite get that one off the ground), my living situations and even my relationship with Jason, were all bumpy and painful or unpleasant to begin with. By February 15th I decided to throw in the towel and planned to leave on March 15th. But life happened and I ended up in Ohio helping to take care of my Mom and Dad and I completely forgot about plans to leave. I came back to Bozeman on the 14th exhausted, but somehow rejuvenated by gratitude. On the 15th, the day that I was supposed to be leaving Bozeman in a trail of frozen dust and neurotic cynicism, I started dating Jason. It's funny how life stepped in front of me the way it did. Sort of like a train hitting a brick wall... Anyway, after coming back from Ohio I wasn't going anywhere. And then in June the magazine I was interning with offered me a job and suddenly, I was living and working Bozeman, MT.
The day after meeting with my bosses over coffee and cheesecake I woke up with the strange sensation that I had been given a second chance. I was happy. HAPPY. Me, the girl who has been hopping from one fit of melancholy to the next since infancy, was content. Sure, I still had my daily freak outs and ranting fits (just ask Robin), but all and all, I was good. When I had left Oregon I had gone with the desire to land a job at an outdoor magazine. I wanted to be in a town that wasn't too big or too small; that had art, culture, entertainment and the outdoors spilling out its seems. I wanted to be in a place filled with natural beauty and surrounded by trails. I wanted to find a guy and fall in love. And much to my surprise, I found it.
That's not to say that I've reached some sort of pinnacle in life and that I'm done building and changing who I am. There are new goals that I'm working toward now. It will be interesting to see where I end up, but if I can come this far in a year I'm fairly hopeful for where I will be another twelve months.
So here I am. I live in Bozeman and work as the advertising/publications sales manager for an outdoor magazine. I also do some writing and editing for them so I'm not completely out of the literary industry. I have a desk in front of a window and co-workers that I not only like, but enjoy working with. I like going to work in the morning, but I also like coming home at night. It's great to finally have that balance.
So now what? I used to post to this blog every day (it's easy to do when you don't have a social life and it's disgustingly cold outside) but life got busy and then it got weird. I needed some time off to reevaluate who I am, where I am and just what this blog is about. And now that I've done that I think I have a better grasp on it and on me. I'm not the same person I used to be, but I'm not that different either. Life is just altered and new.
Lucky me.
NC
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Shacked Up Domestic Bliss
Last week a friend asked me what my days were like. "So what are you doing tomorrow? Tell me everything. What do your days look like now?" he asked me. And as I rattled off the details of my day, from the getting up around 7Am to fiddling with my little red french press at work, to stumbling on home, I realized just how different my life is from anything it has ever been. How strange. So what does my life look like now that I've settled in Montana?
This morning I'm sitting in the relative quiet of the house, sipping coffee with the windows and doors open. It SNOWED last week, so the mild and warm 54 degrees is a welcomed and pleasant change. After all, it is June so you would think we would be lapping up the heat by now, but not in Montana and not this spring. My roommates and Jason are all still sleeping upstairs so it's quiet except for the click of the clock and the birds outside. Jason put up a bird feeder yesterday while I was at work at the shoe store, so now little multi-colored birds are singing his praises from the edge of the yard. For my birthday, a friend of mine had given me a hanging plant for the porch, but a family of birds took up residence and laid five eggs (originally there were five blue eggs, but somehow that switched to two blue and one larger white one with brown spots. hmmmm.....), which then hatched into three baby birds. Jason now says that his bird feeder is feeding the parents, and he checks on the nest every day. The plant, of course, has since gone toes-up, but the baby birds are doing well.
Our veggie garden is sprouting up, almost so fast that I can see it grow. We planted it a couple weeks back with everything from beans to lettuce to watermelon along with the standard assortment of tomatoes, spinach and the requisite zucchini and squash. It's 13 x 50 feet so before I know it I'll be sorting, cleaning and storing vegetables at a pace I may or may not be able to keep up with. Last night we had our friends Max and Ariel over for dinner. Max (short of Massimiliano--he immigrated to the US from Italy when he met Ariel) stood there admiring the garden with me and remarked that when the basil and tomatoes comes it we'll have to call him over so that he can show us how to make 'some real Italian food'. Max and Ariel just found out this week that she's pregnant with a boy, so this fall there will be a little guy arriving that we'll all get to meet this fall.
Jason has woken up since I started writing this post. He's going through his bird book trying to figure out who is making the sing-song "heee-heee" noise in our yard. Apparently it's a Starling and it has friends. The bird family on our porch is of the House Finch variety, and earlier this morning he saw a Red-Wing Blackbird. Apparently we'll be going back to the Home Depot today (they're beginning to know us there) to buy a birdbath. In addition to that project, we'll be painting, spackleing, doing laundry, cooking out, cleaning, weeding, hiking, baking and vacuuming just to name a few things.
So today, that is my day. Simple, calm and lovely. Life is good.
Cheers,
NC
Song of the day: You Have Stolen My Heart by Dashboard Confessional
This morning I'm sitting in the relative quiet of the house, sipping coffee with the windows and doors open. It SNOWED last week, so the mild and warm 54 degrees is a welcomed and pleasant change. After all, it is June so you would think we would be lapping up the heat by now, but not in Montana and not this spring. My roommates and Jason are all still sleeping upstairs so it's quiet except for the click of the clock and the birds outside. Jason put up a bird feeder yesterday while I was at work at the shoe store, so now little multi-colored birds are singing his praises from the edge of the yard. For my birthday, a friend of mine had given me a hanging plant for the porch, but a family of birds took up residence and laid five eggs (originally there were five blue eggs, but somehow that switched to two blue and one larger white one with brown spots. hmmmm.....), which then hatched into three baby birds. Jason now says that his bird feeder is feeding the parents, and he checks on the nest every day. The plant, of course, has since gone toes-up, but the baby birds are doing well.
Our veggie garden is sprouting up, almost so fast that I can see it grow. We planted it a couple weeks back with everything from beans to lettuce to watermelon along with the standard assortment of tomatoes, spinach and the requisite zucchini and squash. It's 13 x 50 feet so before I know it I'll be sorting, cleaning and storing vegetables at a pace I may or may not be able to keep up with. Last night we had our friends Max and Ariel over for dinner. Max (short of Massimiliano--he immigrated to the US from Italy when he met Ariel) stood there admiring the garden with me and remarked that when the basil and tomatoes comes it we'll have to call him over so that he can show us how to make 'some real Italian food'. Max and Ariel just found out this week that she's pregnant with a boy, so this fall there will be a little guy arriving that we'll all get to meet this fall.
Jason has woken up since I started writing this post. He's going through his bird book trying to figure out who is making the sing-song "heee-heee" noise in our yard. Apparently it's a Starling and it has friends. The bird family on our porch is of the House Finch variety, and earlier this morning he saw a Red-Wing Blackbird. Apparently we'll be going back to the Home Depot today (they're beginning to know us there) to buy a birdbath. In addition to that project, we'll be painting, spackleing, doing laundry, cooking out, cleaning, weeding, hiking, baking and vacuuming just to name a few things.
So today, that is my day. Simple, calm and lovely. Life is good.
Cheers,
NC
Song of the day: You Have Stolen My Heart by Dashboard Confessional
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