And the beat goes on

Went to a staffing agency today for the better part of the morning. I found out I can type 64 words per minute. Suck on that typing tutor I never had! I need a job because I need to move out. Clearly. The ladies at the place were super nice and fun to chat with. I really only had two problems:

1.   They said that what I want salary-wise was really out of the question. And I was like, well I guess you like watching people suffer and have to live at HOME FOREVER.

2.   They asked me my dream job and I said writer or editor that works directly with authors. Blank stare followed by silence. Then “well unless the whole one-in-a-million-shot of becoming a writer works out, you’re going to need a more reasonable job.” Great.

On the bright side I got Allie Larkin’s new book Why can’t I be you? I am SO PUMPED to read it. She’s fricken awesome. I hope her book tour lands her in Chicago because I really want to meet her. Other than that, I guess I should go work on my extremely low probability novel I’ve been writing. Guys, it’s a long shot but where would I be if I didn’t even try for the impossible [sarcasm at its highest].
  

Questions

A wise Canadian man once told me that the questions we ask ourselves are more important than the answers to the questions. He might have been paraphrasing from some philosopher but it sounds pretty good.

Questions are essential to getting what you want in life. Questions propel you in a direction to the journeying answer. [Wow, journeying is an actual word. Mind. Blown.]

I got to thinking about my questions. You know, the questions that keep you up at night. The questions that make you try a little hard the next day. The questions that keep you hidden until you feel safe. These questions are the stepping stone to our next great adventure.

I realize that I’m not asking the right questions. I’m always asking why can’t I get a job I love? Why is this person bothering me? Why is my life this way or that way? Instead I need to be asking questions like What will propel my career further, a class at the community college or improv classes? Or When is my personal due date for finishing my first draft? Or What books do I need to read to help change my views on the world? Or How can I help in changing the world?

I am a selfish twenty-four year old. The world at my feet and I choose the paralyzing fear of success. I choose crippling anxiety over adventure.  I choose complaint over gratitude. I choose all these things in my life because the question for me, and for most people is, why me? I’m changing my question.

How can I benefit the world most?

What’s your question?

Oh, sad and OMINOUS…

I Redboxed The Perks of Being a Wallflower and proceeded to cry my eyes out the entire length of the movie. Not only is it one of the most saddest and reality-driven stories, it happens to be up there on my favorite books list [said list is not actually in hard copy. Just a running grocery list of titles in my head]. My only big problem with the movie was how Emma Watson kept kind of slipping back into her native British tongue. I forgive her though. I mean, it’s Hermione. And she is adorable.

The story takes place during high school. In high school, when it sucks, you at least have college to look forward to. Your freedom and a new start are waiting for you on the other side of the graduation ceremony. In college, you get your awaited freedom and find out people like you enjoy doing those weird hobbies you do. Yay. Even when finals and being broke gets you down, hey you’re in college baby. You’re living the dream. And you know that soon you’ll be making the big bucks at some corporate job that promotes you every 6-8 months [or so certain articles say on Forbes.com].

Then you graduate college.

If you’re like me, you didn’t have a job lined up because well, you weren’t entirely sure what you wanted to do. Six months down the line you’re waking up at noon, barely able to recognize the fun-loving college student you were. Your mom demands you get a job. So you do. At the mall. Dear god.

A simple this is just a seasonal job I’ll be making the big bucks by New Year’s comes and goes and 6 months later you’re still there. At the mall. Auntie Anne’s pretzels don’t taste like anything but bitter resentment. Who told you college would land you a sweet job? A high school guidance counselor? Better hope she doesn’t come into the store when you’re at cash register. She’s not getting the discount. Then finally FINALLY you get an office job. No more retail. You can sit most of the work day. This is the start to your pay-off. 8 months of working your ass off. 2 months of a waiting period for them to decide to move you to the Marketing Department. Over a year of essentially being ignored and put down. A position elimination and today you receive your first round of unemployment money.

A big question arises. What is the adult equivalent of waiting for college? When things start to suck as an adult, there really is no waiting for college. It’s more so just waiting for your luck to turn around. Waiting for what you hoped those hours of studying would pay-off into. I’m not saying I want anything handed to me. Oh no. I realize that nothing can be yours unless you go get it.

What if I don’t want anything I’m supposed to want? 

Family news

My younger cousin who got married this past July is pregnant! I just found out the other day and could not be more excited and happy for her. Come September of this year I’ll be a second-cousin to her little one? I think that’s how it works.

Anyway.

About 2 years ago our Papa Ron had double bypass surgery. He’s been doing pretty good, back out on the golf links kicking ass, and still being his awesome self. On his first Thanksgiving after the surgery, he gave a speech before dinner. He talked about how blessed he is for his wonderful family and wife, and how much he loves us. Yes we were crying. Yes I’m kind of tearing up now as I type this. After dessert and big bellies, he came up to all the grandkids. He asked when we were all getting married and when were the great-grandchildren coming. Needless to say, my mom and all my aunts were in outrage and demanded he didn't promote teen pregnancies. We all laughed. We laughed because…

…I’m the oldest of the cousins on that side. Barely 23 at the time, all my cousins are younger than me in increments of 2, sometimes 3. The second oldest, barely 21 at the time just looked at me and said “get on it!”. I laughed again. I wasn't anywhere near ready for kids nor in the vicinity of getting hitched.

New Year’s Eve rolled around that same year and my cousin texted me saying she was engaged. 6 months later she was married. 7 months later she announces she’s due in September. My Papa's Thanksgiving wish is finally coming to fruition. I am ecstatic that my cousin is going to be a mom. I knew she had what it takes back when we were little. She would take care of her dolls and mine while I colored instead. She’s going to be great.

In perfect Alexa fashion, my mind started thinking...a dangerous pastime…I know. [bonus points if you name the movie.]

I was in the shower the other day, feeling overwhelmed by the enormity of the situation. My cousin's 23, married and pregnant. Meanwhile here I am, just shy of 25; unemployed, living at home, nowhere near vows or diapers. I felt like a first grandchild failure. Shouldn't I be the one paving the way for the others to follow when they’re ready and old enough? I know it’s okay for me to not be ready for that life or to have it right now. But I got sad thinking that when I am ready for all that, will my grandparents be around to celebrate with me? I want to make them happy in the way my cousin is and has. All I end up doing is being the comic relief at family gathering. As weird as it sounds, I don't think anyone in my extended family figured I would be the first for domestic bliss. Why? 

Why can’t I get my shit together?

Hansen cousins in Michigan in 2009. Note how much weight I've lost and kept off in 4 years. Ohthankgod. I know we all look alike but I'm the girl second on the left with no cleavage to brag about. 

Idol

Ah hello week three of unemployment

As we enter in to the third week of my laid-off-ness, one thing is apparent: this sucks. Sure sure, it’s nice to be able to wake up when I want [usually around 8 then a quick nap from 8-noon]. And yeah, it’s nice to make my own agenda or hang out with John during the day. Yes it’s nice to get a work out in around 10am instead of 6pm [if only I could convince myself to leave the house to work out]. But overall, it sucks.

Being unwanted by the corporate world is just as much of a bummer as being employed by the corporate world and being unwanted. Not sure which is worse at this point. Oh yeah, the one where I don’t get paid.

I just finished another Steve Martin book, Object of Beauty. Great read, well listen, because I audiobooked it. I’ve been to the library twice this week already. Today I found myself driving around aimlessly just for something to do. I feel like Liz Lemon when she says she showers just to occupy her time. [I’ve started to do that as well.]

I should probably eat something today. All I’ve had is a hot chocolate from 7-11 and there is a Code Red Mountain Dew desperately chilling for me in the fridge. I’m not really hungry though. Nothing actually sounds good. The thought of eating, quite honestly, makes me want to puke shards of my broken soul out into the abyss. Have I gone too emo?

Goofy pup

I feel like my dog Jackson is sympathizing with my emotions. He just sits next to me and gives me those big eyes. Maybe he just wants a treat. Dirty scoundrel. Oh now he’s licking his own pee area. Nice. Maybe I’m giving him too much credit for being my therapist every day and listening. All he probably hears through the sobs is wah wah wah wah yourenotgettingatreat wah wah wah. Dogs are like trophy wives, they know what the good life is: find someone who will feed you, give you a bit of exercise and let you lounge around all day while making sure you never have to pay for a single thing. [As I’m typing this, I thought Jackson was asleep next to me. I sniffled and feel his little nose poke into my leg and then he rests his whole head on my thigh. He’s never really done that before. Stupid dog making me cry. Now he’s growling at his own ass. Such is life.]

  

Maybe I should be productive and get some pages written. Motivation is hard to come by, especially in the winter. More so when your purpose in life is undefined. Might as well go on the elliptical and read one of the many books I got today from the library. 

Yeah I know Lent started already

It’s no real surprise or shock that I’m not super religious. One of my favorite jokes I’ve written is that the Bible has more plot holes than the movie The Lake House [starring the ever wonderful Sandra Bullock and my boy Keanu Reeves]. I’m not saying you can’t be religious or I hate people who are. I do believe that you have to have faith in something to keep you going through rough times. I believe more in karma and the chaotic universe than anything else.

But I do like the idea of Lent and giving up something for 40 days.

It's like the fashion world's version of Tales from the Crypt

I wanted to give up pop, mainly Cherry Coke, but sometimes it’s the only bright spot of my day. I was going to give up caring about anything, but then I realize I have a boyfriend, and not caring about anything includes hygiene. I would like to keep said boyfriend for a long time, so no go on that. Then I thought I would give up staying up late. Didn’t work either. Give up worrying? Yeah, I’ve been trying that one for eons.

So what do I love more than John? Okay okay, equal to or less than John? Food. So maybe in my quest to look like Kate Upton [I know, I’m laughing too], I’ll just eat once a day. Or split my days into sleeping and writing. No food in between. It’s a win for everyone except McDonald’s and Taco Bell. But on the bright side, my cheekbones are going to be able to cut granite. And those ribs? Oh yeah baby, just slather on some BBQ sauce and have at it.

Clearly I’m joking. But then again, maybe I’m not. 

Restless mind

We read to know we are not alone. ¾ C.S. Lewis.

It’s funny sometimes how all I do is read, and when I finally look up from the pages, the loneliness seeps in anyhow. 

Today is my half birthday. Celebrate now.

I’m somewhat sad that there were no notifications on Facebook screaming to me people “I know” got engaged over Valentine’s Day. Then I realized oh dear god there’s no one left to get engaged. I immediately had a piece of cheesecake to stop the ever impending quarter-life crisis from hitting full force.

I’m turning 25 in 6 months to this day. Who would let me be 25? You have to take a test to drive a car when you turn 16. When you turn 50, you get an AARP card and the discounts don’t stop there.  Yet they let you turn 25 with no checkpoint to see how you’re doing?  Odd and more proof of why I will never truly understand anything.

With John and I both on the hunt for permanent jobs, we’ve been spending a great deal of time hanging out together. We’ve been eating a ton and watching endless episodes of Cheers. It’s been great, but I knew the good times would only last so long. The other night he said “…because I’m not going to get a job hanging out with you every day.” After the initial wave of stinging subsided, I realized he’s right. Maybe I have been taking this gap in unemployment a little too lightly. I’ve enjoyed this little break. And I'd like to say I've been a tad productive with it; I’m using it to regroup and get my mind steady and straight. But that time has ended and it’s time to get my serious adult panties on and sack up.

They're letting this turn 25. Why?

Time to be an adult again. Time to earn my keep. Time to get this damn book finished and send it to publishers. Time to get my life where I want it.

And gosh dangit, I’m gonna have it all. 

Damn you HGTV

I’ve been super sucked in to HGTV lately. Something about finding a house and remodeling is speaking to me. There are two shows that I usually end up watching late into the night: House Hunters and Love it or List it. Now there’s a new one John and I watched last night Hawaii Life. Basically it’s people who are like hey let’s just move to Hawaii and figure out the rest when we get there! And that’s what they do. So the whole show is them looking at houses and then deciding among the three they were shown, which one they want to live in.

The show is ridiculous mainly because the whole time all I keep thinking is why do I not live in Hawaii? Why is there snow in my life? Why is it 3am and I’m on my third piece of cheesecake when I need to lose 10 pounds? I miss California. I might be romanticizing it a bit because whenever I went there it was vacation. But I miss the palm trees. I miss the warm breezes. I miss feeling infinite next to the ocean. Maybe it’s the pull of lack of responsibility. Maybe it’s the gorgeous sunsets. Maybe it’s all wishful thinking. I just want to run on the beach. I need new running shoes. Must remember to write that down. 

The standard Valentine’s Day post

It’s that time of year again. Where single people get really bitter and couples grumble about how much money they’re spending for a Hallmark holiday. Ah the sweet smell of discount cupcakes and tinfoil halfhearted well-wishes.

Valentine’s Day has never really been a great holiday for me. I've gotten broken up with twice right before this eventful day. Never had anyone send me flowers at work [kind of a non-issue right now with the fact that I am unemployed. Not that I’m totally complaining. I took a four hour nap and now I am watching Casino Night from Season 2 of The Office in my pajamas while my dog sleeps next to me.]

But this year, I am content with Valentine’s Day. I think I did pretty well gift-wise, I made cupcakes for tonight and John and I are going to make dinner¾heart shaped ravioli with a vodka sauce, Caesar salad and my favorite wine¾ and watch the sappiest rom-com we own. Pretty excited to keep the night low key and fun.

On a side note, I now am back to 100% health wise so I am going on a run in a little bit. Cannot wait to start training with John for the Chicago Half Marathon in July. Whoot Whoot. Happy Valentine’s Day all. Make good choices.   

When it rains it pours

It’s been a shitty start to the year. Yeah I’ll say it. It has been. And it seems to be getting shittier. But what’s that saying? Something like it’ll get worse before it gets better. Or some new age mumbo-jumbo like that. Maybe that saying is true but maybe it’s just that we focus on the negative.

I know I’ve been doing that a lot lately. Almost like a running grocery list of aliments and shortcomings. But what I don’t whip out as much as I should is all the good things going on with me. Like that I am healthy. I have a (parental) roof over my head. A car that gets me from point A to point B. An absolutely incredible boyfriend who I can’t imagine my life without. A family that loves me more than anything. A goofy, lazy dog that loves to play tag with me. And a whole mess of ideas in this head that are revving up to spill out.

I told John this a few hours ago, I said that I feel lost again. Being the creative and witty genius he is he said “You take a medium in jackets right? Welcome to the club.” Although it was hilarious, it makes me sad too. Are we all just walking around lost? If you are lost, does that mean you once weren't?  How do we get back to knowing what the hell we’re doing? How do we find the courage and strength to hold on until things are right side up again? 

…or even your year

Well 2013, we are off to a wonderful start are we not? Sick and on antibiotics for a solid month and now, oh yeah, I’m unemployed. Thank you position elimination. Well, the progress I made with finding and harnessing who I am seems to be on the road to being tested. I can’t decide whether I’m on the verge of something amazing or on the edge of being lost again. 

Patrick, Pete, Andy & Joe. aka Life Complete

Still trying not to cry from the greatest news ever. FALL OUT BOY IS RELEASING A NEW ALBUM IN MAY AND THEY HAVE A NEW SINGLE OUT RIGHT NOW. I’m seriously tearing up I am so effing happy right now. I have absolute chills right now listening to their new song My songs know what you did in the dark (light em up). Love that their song titles are still impossible long and detailed. Happy Happy Happy Happy Happy Happy Happy Happy Happy Happy Happy Happy Happy Happy Happy Happy Happy Happy Happy Happy Happy Happy Happy Happy Happy Happy. 

Fall Out Boy's new single

"I'm just dreaming of tearing you apart."

Imma bout to have me some fun

The less I try to do, the busier I feel. I am so glad it is Friday and at least I have two days of no work to just detox and do my own thing. Tonight John and I are skipping my holiday office party in lieu of going to a concert and spending the night in the city. Can I just say how excited I am? I. AM. EXCITED. I’m more so happy to get some alone time with John. Seriously, with both of us living at home still, it’s hard to get any real alone time. Is this what it’s like when you have kids? If so, that just pushed back me wanting kids by another three years. At this point, I won’t have any munchkins until I’m close to 70 [John will point out that he will be 68 and therefore still young enough to run around with the wee ones.]

Regardless, I plan on sleeping as much as I can this weekend. Hello naps, thank you for being my saving grace. Hello pillow, meet my fa-zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Because I am so tired and kind of dragging, I might [totally going to] get a Mountain Dew. DO THE DEW.