Twenty Ten, So Far

It’s a new year. We are less than two weeks in, and since it’s been a good long while since I blogged, I thought now was a good time to catch up. December was a crazy and stressful month for me, so I didn’t get around to blogging any of my thoughts then.

But my schedule’s pretty wide open at the moment, so here I go.

So far in 2010, I have:
• Moved to a new state
• Read five books
• Watched season 2 of Chuck (and almost all of season 2 of Psych)
• Been homesick for Pittsburgh
• Slept on a couch all but two nights
• Lost the job I was supposed to have when I got out here

Yeah, that last one sucks. It’s a long story, and apparently there’s no one to point a finger at, but the transfer I thought I was getting didn’t happen. So now I’m here in Branson, MO, living on my bff’s couch and trying to figure out Plan B. What a way to start a new year: homeless and unemployed.

People keep telling me that I’m here for a reason…and either I believe what I say I do, or I’m faithless. I’m having a hard time with this whole thing, because I miss my friends, family, apartment, and the job I used to have—the one with awesome coworkers and medical benefits.

Anyway, so in between working on not being bitter and pissed off, and trying to figure out what the hell I’m doing with my life, I have actually been having fun. It would almost be like vacation, except my cat is here, and all my stuff is in storage. As previously mentioned, Brianne (my bff) and I have been watching lots of TV. Specifically Chuck. (We seriously love us some Chuck.)

So then, we got all excited, because season three just premiered. And like, last year, we were all freaking out because it looked like it might not even get a third season, and we were buying subway sandwiches and writing letters and talking our friends into watching season one on DVD. But now it’s back, and it’s AMAZING.

This is the part where I pretend I’m the kind of blogger who writes reviews that people actually read. I just feel compelled to gush about Chuck for a moment. During the first three hours of this season, we have laughed hysterically. And swooned. And gasped at unforeseen deaths. The music is top-notch as always; Buy More shenanigans fill out the spy drama and angsty romance. And the hair. Oh, the hair. After watching all of season 2 this week, I have a newfound appreciation for what they are doing to Zachary Levi’s hair this season. It finally suits him. I don’t know why it took so long, but thank God. Oh—also, Chuck now has super powers (via the 2.0 intersect) that enable him to do pretty much anything. Sometimes.

Partway through the two hour premiere, I realized that Chuck has the same problem that Peter Parker does in Spider-Man 2. (I know, I’m a huge geek. I’ve come to terms with it.) SM2 is not just one of my favorite superhero movies, it’s in my top 10 list of favorite movies of all time. (It also served as an impetus for me to write down the angsty superhero love story that I’d been thinking about for years, also known as “The Jagged Edge of Lightning.”)

In SM2, Peter Parker finds himself in quite a predicament: he can’t hold down a job, he can’t have the girl, and he can’t always catch the bad guy. Because his powers begin to fail. Inexplicably. In Chuck s3, Chuck finds himself out of two jobs, without his girl, and unable to catch the bad guy, because his intersect powers aren’t working. General Beckman tells him it’s because he’s too emotional (allow me to indulge in an eye roll, because I’m not a fan of Beckman. She’s too emotion-less!). Well, Pete had a similar problem: his powers begin to misfire in part because he’s so in love with MJ, and yet he can’t tell her, because she’s engaged, and he’s afraid to let her know about his whole alter-spider-ego. But when he stops trying to suppress all those pent-up emotions—voila! He gets back to his old Spidey self.

Something tells me that Chuck’s going through a similar transition. Everyone keeps telling him not to let his emotions get in the way, but that’s one of the things that makes him Chuck, and not your average superspy. (That and his geeky humor, aversion to violence, and ubiquitous Chuck hi-tops.) He’s just got to find the right balance, and in the meantime, it will be fun to watch the mishaps.

But those days he spent in his bathrobe, eating cheese balls, watching TV, and growing a beard? A similar fate may await me (minus the beard) if I don’t find a job soon. Chuck had an existential crisis, and I am too—for the third time in two years. This is about having more than a job, a five year plan, or some shiny new resolutions.

I am waiting for my path to be illuminated, but right now the road’s pretty dark. If I am here for a reason—not just here in Missouri, but jobless and homeless—I’d like to know what that reason is. I’m not a big believer in coincidence or accidents. Maybe I made a mistake. Or maybe, like Chuck and Spidey and pretty much all my favorite heroes, I just can’t see the whole story yet.
What I wouldn’t give for a glance at my next few chapters.…

The Great Hunt

Well, it's that season of my life again: Job Hunting.

I hate it. But, it is a necessary evil.

Seriously, though, I am baffled. Why do companies care what high school I went to? I graduated from it more than a decade ago, and it's about 3,000 miles away. So what does it matter? Ugh. I feel like filling out applications kills a little bit of my soul every time.

Okay, so I'm being melodramatic. I'm just frustrated that I haven't found anything yet. Even the jobs that I've interviewed for aren't making a decision as quickly as I'd like them to. Not to mention, none of the jobs are exactly things I see myself doing for very long.

At this point, well-meaning, good-hearted people always say to me: "What do you want to do?"

And my answer is always a half-hearted, wistful mention of my writing. But I had a revelation lately. Writing isn't a carer for me, either. Not because I haven't been officially published; I'm learning not to look at publication as a "stamp of approval" from the world certifying me as a "real" author anymore. It's just that writing isn't as much a calling as it is a part of me. I write. I can't help myself. Even when I don't have paper or a computer in front of me, I am telling stories. Sometimes they are only in my head--that steady stream of narration that frames who I am and what I'm doing throughout the day.

Still...it would be nice to get published. I read this great book a little while ago called "Bird by Bird" by Anne Lamott, and she talks about how her writing students always come to class wanting to know how they can get their writing into print. And she instead tells them that most likely, their expectations of publication will not come true. It doesn't often bring fame, fortune, and a sense of purpose. But, she says, write anyway. Writing should be its own reward and joy.

It was good for me to be reminded of that. I am trying to use this time of unemployment to work on queries and outlines and revisions (as well as my other stories). But it's because I want to share my stories with the world, not because I need a sense of self. Part of what I love about writing is connecting with other people. Lately, I've been exchanging books and notes with my friends who are also writers. It's not only fun, it's helpful!!

Another thing that has encouraged me is a favorite author of mine. I've been reading a lot of Madeleine L'Engle lately. And I am struck by how she beautifully intertwines the ordinary and the extraordinary, the mundane and the cosmic. I want to be able to write like that, to create and develop characters that really grow and speak and do amazing things.

So, it's not so much that I just want to be a published author; I want to be a really great writer. I want to write things that speak to people and move them to tears and laughter. I am a writer; what I desire is to be really great at it. And that desire is so strong that most other things pale in comparison.

In the end, is that what I've been hunting all along? Maybe.

The Examiner Experiment

So, a while back, as I was doing searches on MonsterJobs.com, I found an ad for writers wanted. Trying to remain calm, I looked closer. Turns out there's this website called Examiner.com, which is like an online news community for major cities all over the U.S. And, they were looking for writers in Pittsburgh! About Christianity, no less!!

I was like, pick me!

I applied and waited a couple months while they sorted through a bunch of applications from all over the country. About a week ago, I heard back--I was accepted! This, considering my current career crisis, is good news. Not good financially, since it doesn't pay anything unless I get tons of views (was that a shameless plug? Where did that come from?? *GO CHECK IT OUT.*)

I'm really excited about the idea of this, since as you probably already know, I LOVE writing, thinking and talking about my faith and how it fits into daily living. Yes, I actually like talking about God and Church. I don't know why, but I do. And considering I majored in it, I figure maybe it's time I got a little more mileage out of my degree (and beef up my writing resume, while I'm at it!).

So, in conjunction with my friend Bekah, who is working on her thesis (on different denominations) and E, who I think is just interested in visiting lots of churches, I'm going to begin an experiment. And though I feel a tiny bit bad I won't be chronicling it here...I'm going to post links so you can still follow along, if you're interested. Keep checking back!!

Here's the link to my first article, a "review" of New Community Church in Wexford.

Take a look and tell me what you think!!! You KNOW I always do better with feedback!!!!

Thanks! :)

JOBS

What is it about jobs that are so stressful? Seriously. Even the people I know who actually somewhat enjoy their jobs still come home at the end of the day exhausted and glad to be away from work. There are all kind of theories out there about this.

My dad describes it as the traffic light principle, and I don’t know who he got that from. You know, some jobs have a lot of red lights, things you just hate to do and aren’t that good at, some have a lot of yellows, things you can do but don’t enjoy, and a few greens, which are things you love to do and are good at.

The Christian theory is usually that because we are living in the world after the Fall, we all share in the curse that was given to Adam: that his work would be full of labor and futility. But not all Christians agree on what our “job” or our “purpose” here on earth really is. I’m reading a book right now called “Heaven is Not My Home” by Paul Marshall. The jury’s out, but it is an interesting look at the idea that our job is the same as it was in genesis, to rule and take care of the earth.

My current job is nowhere near that fulfilling. It’s what my dad would call a “red-light” job, full of things I don’t really enjoy. It’s not that they’re hard; it’s just boring. I’ve literally been falling asleep at my desk. And if my boss happens to read this while he’s in recovery from surgery, well, I’m sorry. But you know, Doc, you can’t really blame me since neither you nor the Mrs. exactly enjoy your jobs, either.

I’ve actually noticed that environment makes a huge difference to me in whether or not I enjoy my job. If I get along with my boss and co-workers and/or customers, I can handle a lot of tasks I wouldn’t normally care to try. (Also, I’ll do just about any chore if I can have my music playing.) But if I feel dumped on or boxed in it really stresses me out. I took one of those IFES type tests and the work situation it described as being not a good fit for me was basically my first job out of college.

My résumé reads like a hall of shame; part-time jobs I had for a little while until I couldn’t take it anymore or I was lucky enough to be moving on. I worked in the Cafeteria in college, and the dish room at six am was pretty torturous. When I took a year off between high school and college, I actually worked in a factory. It was horrible. I’ve never felt so much like a robot. The summer after college I worked at a theme park—which sounds fun in theory. But I worked the concessions stands. Outside. I had to wear the long-sleeved dresses, bloomers, and stockings of the 1800’s settlers in the highly humid Missouri summer. All day I got asked, “Aren’t you hot?” by people walking around in bathing suits, tank tops, and shorts. After college I worked at a couple preschools—the Montessori kind. I worked with some great kids and some neat ladies, but I just couldn’t handle all the structure they imposed on the kids. Plus, my job was usually more about keeping the room clean rather than interacting with and teaching the kids. Even now, my job is mostly about cleaning. I don’t have anything against cleanliness; it’s just not what I want to do for a living.

So far in my short life I have only had one job I truly loved, and that was in College. I worked in the Community Service department for three out of four years. It was great. I went into elementary schools, latchkey programs, boys and girls clubs, nursing homes, and a food pantry. I’m not sure if I loved it because it was highly relational, because I had a good balance of routine and variety, because I felt like I was doing something worthwhile, or a combination of all three.

I just applied for a job in a coffee shop this week. I’ve been looking around for another job for month, in part because my boss keeps talking about retiring. Just because he can’t make up his mind doesn’t mean I should be left without a job. I’ve applied at a library, a bookstore, and with a couple of ministries. Nothing happened. I keep asking God what it is he intends to do with me and the gifts he’s given me. Now I’m going to be going in for training at the coffee shop, Café Latte, next week. Did I mention I don’t even drink coffee? I guess that’s not a big deal. I’m not thrilled about the prospects of early mornings and impatient consumers, but it might not be so bad. (I always think that at the beginning of a job. Always.)

What I really want to be when I grow up is a writer. There are a lot of other things I’d like to do: teach, play in a band, record a song, study in another country, make a movie….but I really love to write. I’ve written two books so far. I hope to eventually get a website up about them, but I still might blog about them sometime. I’m also hoping to self-publish one of them in the near future.

I just wish that my sense of self and feelings of accomplishment weren’t so wrapped up in what I’m doing for a living. I mean, I have to pay the bills; that’s a given. But I can have dreams, can’t I? We all graduate from college bright eyed and hoping to land our dream job right away—or at least a job in our field. Some of us do. But I have very few friends who are really fulfilled in their jobs. I’m not just writing this to say work sucks or complain about the economy. I’m just wondering, like I’m sure others are, what went wrong? Is this as good as it gets?

I know deep down it’s not, and I’m grateful that I decided to reread John Eldredge’s “The Journey of Desire.” I love his books so much I will save it for a separate blog. He writes of how we were meant for so much more…but that it’s just possible we won’t get to fulfill it in this life. I’ve heard the saying “Life is not a Dress Rehearsal,” but Eldredge says it actually is. When Heaven and Earth are renewed and we are restored, maybe we will get to do all the things we always wanted to and were meant to—but without the frustration a failure. If you’ve ever been uninspired by the idea of what awaits us in heaven, go read the book right now. Literally. Stop reading this and go find a copy.

What I really want to do is write like that: to capture people’s hearts and minds; to show the truth through a story; to awaken people to the longing inside them; to pull back the curtain on the cosmic drama we are all meant to be a part of. Is it a core part of my being? Is it what I am meant to do? Is it my job? I guess we’ll see.