Temporary homemaker

We've been in our new place for a week now. We're 90% unpacked and the apartment is 80% decorated. Thanks to my father's inherent handiness and, shall we stay, attention to detail, most of our  art and curtains are already up. Next on my To-Do list: write a mushy love letter to U-Haul. We used their shipping boxes and save for one bent-beyond-use Rubbermaid bin lid, we had no casualties. 

Still no job yet, but with Labor Day weekend upon us, I assumed my phone would remain quiet today. I got an email from the phone interview person and no dice. So now that Corey has started classes, I spend my days keeping house and reading. I figure I will enjoy a clean house for as long as possible, since I know that when I'm working again I will have no extracurricular motivation for housekeeping. We're also watching our pennies since we have a finite cash stash until I start earning a paycheck, so I'm cooking a lot more now. With college football season on the horizon, we are saving our "dining out" funds for game days at the local Michigan bar! (I haven't traded in my Maize and Blue for Burnt Orange just yet. I'll wait until the weather gets cooler.)

I'm looking forward to writing more with my free time. The only reason it took me this long is to post is because we don't have Internet at home yet. I'm typing this on my iPad from the Starbucks near our place. It's awesome because its within walking distance, but seems to be the hang-out spot of choice for the local middle school set. Boo.

Coming up, I'm planning some posts on interview style, my new-ish job of being Corey's business manager, and pictures of my mad decorating skills.

Building an Empire

After two days on the road with two very annoyed cats, we made it to Austin on Monday night. We are living in a little motel off of I-35 until we can get into our new place on Saturday. Corey is doing his placement testing and classes start next week. I spent yesterday in the room, so today I decided to venture out. I'm writing this post from the Fine Arts Library on the UT campus. I've applied for two more jobs this morning, to I figure I can take a break to write something for myself.

I had a phone interview last week that went OK. They said they would let me know in the next 10 business days if they want to meet me in person. The job may be a little out of my league, but I'm choosing to stay positive. What I lack in experience I make up for in enthusiasm and scrappiness.

I came across a quote or meme or whatever you want to call it on Facebook the other night that really spoke to me:

I don't know where it originally came from, and the random fan page my friend from high school shared it from had an offensive name, so I chose to save the image an re-post it. Thought he language is a little grandiose, I love the message. Corey and I really are struggling right now, but I'd rather struggle with him than be kept by anyone else.

The lack of responses from my job applications and our slowly diminishing bank account balance have gotten me down lately, but this quote inspires me to keep going, to keep working towards our empire.

Before I sign off, I want to be clear that I don't judge anyone else's choices. I really don't know that many women who haven't chosen love over an easier life, and I don't think I'm better than the ones that do. I just need to be reminded that one day, Corey and I will have careers and a solid financial foundation too, and we will have had love the whole time.

Thoughts on coffee

I am not a morning person; never have been, never will be. My mom will tell you about the shouting matches that occurred in the mornings during my elementary school days. In middle and high school it got a little better since I started to care about how I looked, but I'm still on Team Snooze.

My mom used to tell me that I'd become a morning person once I got my first job out of college. She also told me that I'd get used to rising early and start drinking coffee regularly. At that point, I was only drinking coffee on occasion and for pleasure, not out of necessity.

Fast forward to my second job out of college, my first "big girl" (i.e. full time) job. I was stationed at a reception desk with the company's payroll department behind me. The office coffee pot was situated on a little counter top to my left. The way the was the room was set up, everyone in the office had to pass by me (and the boss's office window) to grab a cup. The boss had strict rules about only making two pots per day, and people had to supply their own creamer. The first pot was always drained as soon as it was finished, and some scavengers would come for the their second cup before the second pot was finished brewing.

Now, I get it that in a company that offers few perks, you want to get your money's worth in free coffee, but crappy Folgers drowned in french vanilla? I didn't get the appeal. This desperate need for sup-par caffeine confused and worried me. After witnessing this Lord of the Flies for coffee, I decided that I never want to become chemically dependent on caffeine, no matter how perky it would make my mornings.

My Elle Woods Moment

If you're familiar with the "Legally Blonde" franchise, you know that the main character Elle Woods uses hair analogies in during litigation and while addressing Congress. It always starts out sounding like sorority house babble, but ends making an excellent point.

I had my Elle Woods moment today when I realized that my relationship with my hair is a metaphor for my relationship with myself. Stay with me on this one...

Growing up my hair was frizzy and awkward. All I wanted was straight, long, glossy hair that would, with little effort, look pretty down and adorable up. All throughout high school I tried whatever remedies my allowance could afford, but nothing worked. I would stay up late watching infomercials about miracle products that would heal my crispy waves.

When I got my first job and saved enough money, I ordered my first ceramic straightening iron online. This was 2005 when the technology was still relatively new. It cost $100.00.

The results were amazing to me. The 100% ceramic transformed my course waves into shiny straight locks. I felt like a whole new woman and went off to college with confidence. 

It didn't take long for me to become addicted to the straightener. I never left my dorm without spending 30 minutes taming my mane. I still feared humidity, and God help me if it rained. 

Later came sulfate-free shampoo and Argan oil, both discoveries were on equal footing with the ceramic wonder. I was winning the battle against my hair!

Recently I decided that since I'm moving to a warmer climate, I want to start embracing my hair's natural texture. (Full disclosure: I also want to embrace current trends. Super-straight hair is SO five years ago. I use that phrase only semi-ironically.) I'm getting used to the awkward waves, but since treating my hair to healthier products, the frizz has settled down. Still, I find myself twitching when a certain lock of hair falls in what I deem and weird way. 

Going with my hair's flow is about relaxing and letting go of my perfectionist tendencies, live and let live. Here's where I realize that accepting my hair for what it is becomes a metaphor for accepting myself for who I am. I was awkward in uncomfortable in high school. During college and my early twenties I learned some lessons, some tips and tricks if you will, on how to be the person I wanted to be. I took those lessons and followed my heart, and they lead me to where I am today. I am comfortable with my flaws, and I'm slowly learning to see them not as flaws, but as the accessories to the outfit of my personality.

Great, now I'm making fashion analogies.