On Tuesday evening I got the email: “We are prepared to make you the following offer.”

On Friday I had a job. Not only a job, but one that was a promotion from the one I’d originally applied for. The CEO was impressed, they said. (Please note: I now work for a very, very tiny company, one even smaller than The-Job-That-Wasn’t 2.0. But hey, it’s still a cool thing to impress a CEO enough to get you out of the assistant trap and get you into a job title that won’t make you self-conscious to hand out business cards.)

So Friday night I couldn’t stop smiling, and I made the first level of the pies for my impending dinner party, and when The Roommate got home, we just hung around, occasionally exchanging bits of commentary, and yeah, I know there’s been pseudo-drama with us that’s mostly my jack-asinine behavior that’s at fault, but it is nice that we can just “be” when we’re around each other. And then we made an amusing trip to Target Saturday morning.

Michael came over around noon on Saturday, and I had not seen him in months so it became a very fun session of cooking, reminising, catching up, babbling, and yes, lets talk about how Rachel loses her gaydar completely when a Libertarian is involved. Michael is one of the most gregarious people I know and he will engage anyone in just conversation or whatever. So while we were cooking and talking, The Roommate was putting together chairs (wins more Roommate points for engaging my dinner party that logistically was going to be a mess although a few expected people didn’t show, so it would have worked out) and I think Michael actually forced Roommate into having a good time. Which I did not know was possible. The Roommate does not have fun.

And then – successful party, I think. The food wasn’t as good as it could have been, I forgot to put out cheese with the chili, and the salad just never got made. But we all just hung around the table, and people laughed a lot, so is that a good sign of a successful gathering? I think so. Plus, it was also an impromptu celebration of my new job.

And then, I had a date, of sorts, on Sunday. This is a change from my usual mode of boy drama. This boy has told me straight out that he likes me, told me he thinks I am “beautiful and intelligent”, and held my hand in public. He made me feel adored, which made me realize – the recent boy I like-liked never made me feel like that. He was very good to me in many ways, from the pajama pants to the pancakes, (and one time, in the midst of the worst panic attack I have ever had he made sure I was safe and protected). And to him, I owe the roof over my head. I will always be incredibly grateful to whatever bizarre arrangement the roommate and I have. But I get his point now. It has been so long since I dated and I am so used to emotionally unavailable men, for whom you have to fight for an ounce of their attention. I forgot that sometimes you can just be yourself, and a boy will like you and pay attention to you.

This isn’t going anywhere yet. It hasn’t even started. But he held my hand in public, and he walked me to my doorstep and kissed me tonight, and he asked me if he could see me again soon.

And of course I said yes.

“Go,” Brent says. “If it sucks, you can leave.”

I found out of the Alexandria Film Fest from meetup (where else?) and someone had organized a “hey, lets hang out and see these movies,” thing. And I had to get out of the house. So, I went. This was an odd choice given that: a) I’m too fidgety to sit through movies. I haven’t seen in a movie in the theater in years and b) I’m not at all a “films” person.

But I went, and climbed the hill of steps at the George Washington Masonic Temple, and admired the pretty view.

I found the theater just fine, and I found the people who I was supposed to be meeting up with.

And I proceeded to see some very good stuff, including 3 ‘shorts’, all of which were excellent. (Latzuf, an Israeli film, Leap Before You Look, an American documentary, and Down in Number 5, an American movie based on a true story, which was incredibly depressing. The filmmaker was there and confirmed a lot of the details) I also saw a documentary on venture capitalism, and a Costa Rican movie, which is probably the best teen pregnancy plot lines I’ve seen other than Saved!

So I feel all cultured and stuff, and I got out and did something different. I went to Whole Foods for a quick dinner with a couple people afterwards and listened to some Taylor Swift on the Metro. And now I’m home, drinking tea, and feeling like for once, it was a successful day. Maybe even a good day.

From my description you can see that trivia is Very Important and that this victory made me (well, us) way happier than it rightly should have. In the car ride home we were still discussing it, and future team strategy, and I was like “Guys, you do realize that we’re the only ones there to tonight who are STILL DISCUSSING THIS.”

But I wouldn’t have it any other way. It feels good to be a team again (Joe and Brent were on academic decathlon with me in high school) and to make ridiculous references throughout the game that no one else would get but us.

I didn’t fall asleep until around 2am, for the second night in a row. I am definitely feeling that this morning and the coffee is doing little to dull it. I have ice cream stashed in the freezer here, and I’m tempted to break it out. Work continues to be filled with crankiness all around.

But I am in a better mood than I’ve been in all week – maybe even all month. Getting rejected from the Libertarian Fellowship certainly left me in a funk and I’ve also hit the wall in terms of available things to apply for in DC. It’s frustrating, because I know I’d be perfect for several of the think tank positions I’ve applied for – there are just other people who would be even more perfect, and they’re probably already in the DC area. I’m that at the point yet where I could realistically (or would even want to) just quit my job, move to DC, and hope for the best with the job search and the powerlessness has left me irritable.

But being around two of my favorite people on the planet, who understand me better than anyone in the world, has done wonders for my spirits. At least for today. And allegedly, that’s the only one that should matter.

And yay, Friday! I may actually be social this weekend (an acquintences birthday tomorrow evening) and then, what the hell it is already February. If I start talking about how time is flying, and how I’m going to be, omg, 27 in May, I’ll just ruin my good mood, so I’m going to stop, and go do something productive.

This post is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Password:

I signed up for NaNoWriMo, even though I don’t enjoy writing fiction. But I figured I would give the story I’ve been trying to write for four years now another go. Plus there is the social aspect. My social life is woefully lacking. Four years ago, my last semester in college, the four walls were closing in on me, and NaNo was what got me out of my room. I’m not expecting miracles, but I did organize a kick-off dinner for 10 strangers on Saturday, which is way more socializing than I usually do on my weekend.

I have a lot of my mind, but nothing definite enough to put down on paper.

Lex asked me this morning if I’d had fun and I replied honestly, “not really.” She repeated to me what I already know; that it will get easier. That I don’t have to love these people, but it’s better to go, because maybe I’ll get something small out of it. Yeah, yeah. I’ve always said that I either click with people, or I don’t. If I don’t click with someone, I can certainly be friendly with them, but I never wind up bonding with them. I have always gotten very strong first impressions of people. I realize that saying my first impressions of people are almost always right is perhaps a self-fulfilling prophecy, but I have too many examples where I doubted my first instincts, and it only led to bad things.

So no, it didn’t “click” with any of these girls, and that’s fine. I was feeling kind of lousy about it while I was driving home, but I just have to keep reminding myself that this is me. This is nothing new. And for whatever uncomfortableness I felt sitting at that table, I’m still not as bad as I used to be. I don’t think I’ll go out with them every week, because by Thursday, I’m pretty exhausted from my semi-crazy schedule. But at least I know I have a place to go if I’m ever craving diner food.

Tonight I am thinking of going to a lecture (and I have a choice between two lectures!) but nagging thoughts like how much I need to clean my apartment are holding me back. Which is silly, because cleaning the apartment never takes that long. It’s just thinking about it that makes me slightly nuts.

 When I got home last night, I read something so scary-relevant to one of my situations that it almost made my brain explode. I could write about it, but it’s too soon to tell this story. It’s not a story yet. It’s just an anecdote. Maybe that anecdote will be Chapter One. Maybe it will remain a “potential.” Either way, it makes me think about words on the tip of my tongue and in the back of my throat. 

 Now I must go be productive. I am behind on a project, sort of. I am tired, but somewhat clearheaded. I need to get some caffeine in my system and get some work done.   

This post is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Password:

Last night was the MAPSS dinner. They sat us by precept group. I got to talk to my precepter a lot. Last quarter I was very anti-him, but I have, as I mentioned, done a total 180, and he is awesome, and I am so lucky to be in this group.

We made toasts. We bonded. We did a little bit of sharing TMI. (I told the “how I got into political theory because of a boy” story.)

Sarah, who is apparently right about everything, joined our table later on in the evening. She has predicted that I’m going to get a PhD, wind up in academia, etc based on the way I talk about things. (She also predicted the conclusions of this weekend. Cough) That would solve the problem about what the hell I’m going to do with my life, but we’ll see. No Plan. Did you know political theorists are being phased out? And only about 6% of jobs in political science go to theorists, and most of those are for nonsense like “Logic” and “Game Theory.”

We went to the pub afterwards and I had good-good conversations with people I hadn’t talked to much before. I talked to one girl about NYC and how we both want to move back there, etc. I talked to a girl in my building about how we stop working at 10 PM (we live in the stupid central time zone, shut up) to watch the Daily Show.

Life is bizarre and good, and awesome. I will still say in a heartbeat that I miss New York, and I miss Astoria, and I miss the life I had there. And I still want to be done with this program and have some certainty about what the hell I’m doing next year. But, since I’ve been told I need to learn how to live in the present and not worry so much about the future, I’m going to really try to just enjoy this, for this.

This post is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Password:

What-ever. My love for Billy Joel knows no bounds, and merrily there was lots of Billy Joel music played in the piano bar we went to last night. It was a very good thing to get out of Hyde Park, hang out with a couple of my favorite MAPSS people, and not think about my thesis. The scotch on the rocks was very, very strong which hit me rather hard, which was unanticipated. I compensated with water and cutting myself off, which was a rare show of responsible drinking by me. I hope to make that more of a habit. I’m convinced that one of the reasons I am such a moron about drinking is because I did not go through the drinking/partying lifestyle as an undergrad. Instead, I spent my year in the real world acting like a college freshman (and having freshman-year-of-college-esque hookup experiences, which I also missed out on. Conclusion: I didn’t miss much) and am now beginning to understand what it means to be moderate with these habits. Which means I still exhibit a good degree of moronicness but I’m learning. Oh, and I smoked a cigar last night which I had not done in ages and ages.

Even though disputes about the bill and having to pay for a cab were kind of a buzz kill, I had an overall very fun time at the piano bar we went to last night. Any outing in which I have the opportunity to dance is awesome in my mind. I adore dancing, even when my inner klutz shines through, it is way too much fun to care, except when I have to apologize for awkwardly maiming my dance partner.

I wound up walking home alone at 2:30 in the morning, but I really didn’t feel unsafe. I know Hyde Park is statistically more dangerous than Astoria and that knowledge makes me feel marginally less secure, but also, it’s late and I just want to go home and I don’t want to wait to call Campus Police and have them trail me.
I’m convinced the fact that I naturally come across as aloof and pissed off have prevented many a hasslings here and in the city.

Anyway. I have to revise my thesis proposal. But I’m listening to Miami 2017: Seen the Lights Go out on Broadway while I do. New York State of Mind, which was played last night is better known and maybe more appropriate, but Miami 2017 has the line about Queens and is musically superior anyway.

Cary called me around 8:30 “Are you done packing?” she asked.
“Um…somewhat…,” I replied
“Well are you too busy to have coffee with us?”
“Absolutely not, what time?”

So Cary, Dayna, and I met up at Freeze Peach and then migrated to Igloo for food. We chatted about the board, of course, because you can’t get together with Astorians without discussing “the Board.” (The whole “I feel like I’m dating 35 people” thing is definitely true. It’s like so many of us hang out, on an increasingly regular frequence, but it’s always in a group, so there are a lot of mildly awkward one on one interactions. It’s a bizarre development of community) and AG, and men, of course.

I’ve never really had groups of girlfriends before, and that’s what was really developing for me among the Astoria girls…I’m going to miss them; we’ve had a lot of fun together.

So we hugged Cary good-bye and Dayna and I headed home (we live three blocks from each other) and we ran into Josh. I am really, really going to miss living somewhere where I am constantly running into people I know. I love the walks up 21st Avenue with Dayna — we are always “getting home safe” companions, and she remarked that she loves the walks home because it’s so peaceful, and I said I would miss the independence of being able to come home alone and not worry. Southside Chicago may not allow that.

I’m going to miss Astoria, and Astorians, and Astoria girls. This is the most amazing community ever.

Off the top of my head, without eloquence

My Astorians party on Friday was relatively low-key. We took over Hell Gate’s Social again, brought in lots of food and ordered pizza (I will miss New York pizza.) A lot of people showed up; I felt very popular. Sooz made me an awesome card, the front of which is laminated google-map directions from Hyde Park to Astoria. I got an Astoria Hell Gates shirt — I love that bridge. We took lots of pictures. There was much girl talk among the usual Astoria ladies. I am going to miss this community more than I can put into words. It’s been an amazing experience. Ok Rousseau I GET IT.

Last night was PLI people and random people and O-town people and people I hadn’t seen in a really long time, and at one point Jill-IAN was like “Jesus Neumsy, who ARE all these people?” because I had been fretting about people not showing up and looking like a loser. Everyone was buying me drinks, and I got to talk to everyone and didn’t take enough pictures, and I think I managed to not be too emotional, although I think I hugged everyone about 19 times. I will write about it later.

I have lots of boxes. My head is swimming.

I never, in my whole life, thought I would be the type of person who warranted throwing two separate going away parties. At one point last night I pulled Jill-IAN and Drew aside, and was just like “You guys have been one of the best things about New York and I love you a lot.” 

I cannot put this into words. This is so freaking cliched, but I seriously don’t know how to say all this. I am basically overcome with emotion.

This post is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Password:

It is totally Monday, but it will be over in an hour and life is still good.