Command + Q

I hope you are all WELL. It has been so long!

I will go back and do a post about the wedding, I promise. To summarize, it was MAGICAL. We are now 9 months into being married, and honestly we couldn't be happier. Here's a photo to tide you over. And K totally wore a pink gingham pocket square.

We like donuts. (Laura Harris Photography-call her, she's seriously awesome.)

But let's talk about how I quit my job on Thursday.

And how I was laid off from my OTHER job 5 months ago.

And how I accepted two job offers in between.

I'm exhausted just thinking about it.

OK. In February, we had a suspicion that our office would be closing. We were the smallest satellite office, and... business. We received a mysterious invite to a meeting with "HR", and we pretty much knew it was happening. The night before the meeting, I asked my sister what you wear when you know you're getting fired. We went for black.

I joke, but it was truly devastating. It was my favorite job of all the jobs, I'd been there for 4 years, (remember THIS post, when I finally decided to make the leap to Job #2?) Anyways, I was crushed. And terrified. And I've never lost a job before.

K has been SUPER super supportive. And we basically decided if we had to eat ramen for a year while I looked, we would.

After many rejection letters (one actually came in the MAIL.) I was lucky enough to land another job about a block from Job #2. I was incredibly thankful, but the truth was, I had had my eye on a different job--my DREAM job for five years. Since before Job #2.

This place is the stuff dreams are made of. Designy, comprised of amazing people, and has a kegerator. Also there are jerseys hanging on the wall in memory of fonts that shall no longer be used, such as Comic Sans. Which I'm sure this blog will be published in. They do design for BREWERIES and RESORTS and they have the most wonderful reputation in the design industry. I cold called them five years ago to inquire whether they had a position, and then again when the layoff happened. No dice.

But the coincidences were too much to ignore. 1) My sister-in-law worked with them at a previous job. 2) The beer poster we have above our fireplace was designed by them. 3) I can walk to my sister's house from the office. 4) I ran into them at a cocktails with creatives event a few months ago, and fangirled because we all connected so well. We followed each other on social media, and just tried to keep in touch. It was basically like being married and having an affair with your true love.

I started Job #3, and pined from afar, but resolved to let it go and move forward.

But about three weeks in, my dream job serendipitously reached out to me with an open position. It was less pay than Job #3, but K and I did some quick math and decided my happiness was intangible. I had to do something I'm super uncomfortable doing and quit a job I just started, but in my heart, I KNEW it was the right thing for me.

So I start in AUGUST.

I am honestly still in shock that I was able to land safely after being laid off. It was incredibly challenging and humbling, and I wouldn't recommend it to my worst enemy. But looking back now, I could not be happier. I just landed my dream job, I get to design things for BREWERIES and RESORTS and basically, if a job were a pile of kittens that I could roll around in, this would be it. Things happen for a reason, people.

I can't keep up with you kids and your technology.

You GUYS. Last week, I finally bit the bullet, joined the world of fancy high tech gadgets, and bought myself an iPhone. (To go with my fancy new job, of course. I can't let those young art directors show me up.)

I waited patiently for a whole week, checking the mailbox each day like he was bringing my Red Ryder secret decoder.

Finally, a Santa dressed all in brown with very manly shorts dropped off a package on my doorstep. I hid behind the door and waited until the truck pulled away, eyes gleaming.

When I opened the box, angels sang.

K was my first call; he knew I'd been patiently awaiting my new bundle of joy for days.

"Hey honey! How is your new phone?"

"It's GREAT! I LOVE IT! BUT I THINK IT'S BROKEN!"
"Why?? What's wrong?"
"I DON'T KNOW! YOU SOUND REALLY FAR AWAY!"

"Honey... did you take the plastic covering off of the speaker?" 

"WHAT?"
"The PLASTIC COVERING! YOU HAVE TO TAKE IT OFF OF THE FRONT!"
(silence)
"I'LL CALL YOU RIGHT BACK."

I don't know if I'm ready for all of this, you guys. Should people who sleep with giant carebears be allowed to have iPhones?

Inertia

It seems like EVERY person in my life is going through a major transitional period. They are either engaged, pregnant, just had a baby, just got married, are buying a house, or are switching jobs--starting exciting new careers.

I... am doing none of the above.

And I feel a little like I'm standing in the ocean, my feet cemented into a layer of wet sand, watching the world change around me while I stand still.

It's not that I want to trade lives with any of them, and I'm genuinely happy for each one for the blessings they have. It's just that it makes me realize that nothing in this world is ever going to stop changing, even for a second. Even when I think it will always be exactly like it is. Even when I HOPE it will.

It won't be. It can't.

And I suppose that's a good thing, because we can't just stay the same forever. We need to change, and grow... to evolve.

Some periods in your life are full of change, and others are a bit more stationary. I guess when you're in your late twenties, it's natural to look around, check out what everybody else is doing, and take inventory of your own life.

But I feel a bit overwhelmed by everything changing at once. Like I need to run and catch up with everybody else. (For what? To DO what? Is life a race?) I guess it's left me wondering what path I'm on, in life, in my career.

And how is it all going to turn out?

WTF is wrong with my scarf?

I'm trying REALLY, really hard to be a grown up. I turn 28 in less than a month. It's bad enough that I sleep with a pink gingham pillow every night like a toddler and have an extensive carebear collection. I figure when you approach the age where you could BE somebody's mother, you should probably act like a adult yourself. Right? So to increase my maturity level, I have to make up for the food fight I had with myself at the last wedding.

My Christmas gift from my BFF K-dub!

So I took up knitting. My BFF K-dub sent me a beginner's knitting kit for Christmas because she knew I wanted to learn, and it totally worked!

Because obviously, knitting = grownup. You see the logic there?

Soo I've been knitting my face off since I got it, and yesterday I finished my first scarf.

But there is a problem. Why the fuck is it shaped like the state of Florida?

Whomp, whomp.

I ALSO completed this lovely coaster that is comparable to the macaroni crafts that 5-year-olds bring home from daycare:

A coaster.

Obviously, this whole becoming an adult thing is going swimmingly. At least my new addiction to Pinterest has me learning to cook and sew. I'll be a grownup yet, just you wait and see... *shakes fist with menacing frown*

Empty Nest

Well, it has finally happened, guys. My little birdies have flown the nest. After 3 months of staying with us, my sister and her boyfriend found a place of their own. Now that they are both grown ups with awesome jobs, they have moved about an hour away to be closer to work. And I am SO incredibly happy for them to have their own place, but I miss them. A lot.

For one, my sister is a master chef and cooked us dinner all the time. I'll admit it, I got a little spoiled. Now, (when K isn't here--because he cooks amazing meals for me when he is) I'll have to go back to macaroni and cheese and Hot Pockets for dinner.

And as much as I enjoy my solitude, I will CERTAINLY miss having people here when K is traveling for work to enjoy my trashy reality TV with. Yelling at Amber Portwood on Teen Mom is just not the same when nobody is around to hear your screams. And who will get up from the couch to retrieve my slippers when I throw them at the TV?

But, I must say--after almost 5 years of living in different states, I am SO thankful to have them so close to me. They are both family, and having them here makes my life in NY even more awesome. Plus, when K got home last night, he got me some gorgeous flowers because he knew I was down. And the kitties have been extra snuggly too. I am such a lucky girl :)

HSM (Holy Shit Moment)

Occasionally, I have an HSM (Holy Shit Moment) when I realize that I'm almost 30. It's like I've been in a coma since high school and suddenly I have grey hair and wear mom jeans. This happened yesterday, when I saw that almost all of the "People You May Know" on facebook have small children in their photos, or bridal gowns on. It also happened when my car insurance went down at age 25, and again on Thursday when I realized I will have to change the name of this blog soon from "TwentySomething" to "Countdown to Hades".

When did we get to that age where everyone we know is married or has children? I don't know about you, but I still feel like I'm that 18-year-old college girl, planning which frat party we're going to hit on Thursday night. Only Thursday is a school night. I don't go out on school nights anymore. And now I'm smart enough to know that jungle juice is really just Koolaid powder and vodka.

The other day I looked in our freezer--it has been filled with almost full bottles of liquor since our summer BBQ. I thought about how when we were 18, we would drink absolutely anything we could get our hands on (such as half gallons of Popov and Crystal Palace, Busch's and Natural Light), and how my freezer would have never made it to be this full of unconsumed liquor back then. Both an empowering and depressing realization.

I also realized that (as corny as this sounds), I am responsible for three other tiny, furry lives now. I am a mommy. Mouths to feed and all that. I have to pay rent, pay taxes, pay my bar tab. Life isn't as carefree as it used to be, but it also isn't as acne-prone and awkward, and I wouldn't go back for anything.

So even when I have an HSM every now and again, realize I'm almost 30, start to slow panic and breathe into a paper bag, I remind myself that I would not want to be that 18-year-old again, with all of the growing pains and awkwardness that come along with it.