Votey McVoterson

I'm trying to vote. Early. Well, it's an absentee ballot since I'm no longer living in my home state of Maine, or at least not for the time being. What a lousy process! There is actually one question that reads "Shall the municipality approve the charter revision recommended by the charter commission?" Um... WHAT?! How the hell am I supposed to know what that even means? This is not my first time voting, but I'm beginning to think that casting an educated vote requires more study time than passing my exams in college. Beyond that, there are so many candidates running for different offices, and the more local they are the more difficult it is to find any relevant information on their views on the issues. I've had an easier time finding out how many children they have than what their fiscal policy beliefs are! I'd be better off selecting a husband by this process than a candidate for any political office. Who cares if the candidate is married? I want to know if they're going to spend my tax dollars wisely or not. Is anyone with me on this? How important are personality and charm?

On a lighter note, my dear friend Andy came for a visit from Mexico City about 2 weeks ago. We were walking down my street one evening and came across this car which seemed to be a target for the local North End Pigeon Community. Not another car in sight had any birdie-poo on it, but this car was covered. I wonder what he did to piss off those birds? Piss off, piss on, it all comes back around! Also, I took a picture of Andy being a wonderful gentleman and carrying our sofa box down to the street to be picked up on trash day. I think the box was bigger than Andy and I almost pissed myself laughing as he tried to sqeeze it down the four flights of stairs and around our neighbors' shitpiles on each landing. Sorry, Andy. It was a giggly day. I still love you!

Access Denied

It was another long day at work... over 10 hours if you include my lunch break. I finally got in touch with the lady I interviewed with on Monday at the publishing house. I didn't get the job, which is no big surprise. The only surprise was that she actually called to tell me personally! Usually I get an email or worse yet, a letter via snail mail. She said she needs someone with more concrete writing experience. Shocker. That's why I'm blogging, but I don't want to put this on my resume. Officially I've only done a little web content, a lot of editing and proofreading and little support and consulting with PR writing. Not so impressive, but then again I've only been out of school for a year and a half. During the interview she asked if I wrote for my high school newspaper. That's right: high school. Are you serious? I was super-involved in high school (sports every season, student government, national honor society, yearbook staff and choir) but I had no clue what I wanted to do, aside from travel and learn French. Ironically that's still more or less the case today, over 6 years later. I do like writing, though. I'm just not sure how to get a career with it if I can't catch a break or have a place to start. Nonetheless, my head is held high! I didn't feel very comfortable in the office so I'm sure I wouldn't have liked working there anyway. In an effort to be more proactive, I shot off two more resumes today. Fingers crossed....

Managing Minor Crises

I had a job interview today with a small publishing company. They had me in mind for a position I didn't apply for, but which recently became available and actually sounds more interesting than what I had originally sent my resume in for. This is all very last minute of course, since I'm starting temp work tomorrow. I just got the email about this interview last night and wrote back to ask if I could come in today while I still have time. I felt like the interview went okay, but that my actual experience fell short of what they thought it was once I explained my resume. Beyond that, I had to take some skill tests at the beginning on which I performed miserably. I should have said something in my own defense but I didn't want to seem dishonest or as if I was making up excuses. Of course in retrospect, I could have said that given and opportunity to retake them, I think I would perform better. They were testing on speed and accuracy, and I was very slow but very accurate. I think it was partly the disclaimer that "no one ever finishes so don't worry when you don't" that threw me off and lead me to underestimate the importance of the speed aspect. It is true, though, that I would rather take my time to do something right than rush through it and have it turn out sub-par. I'm somewhat of a perfectionist. Anyway, it hardly matters now but the point was that I went home feeling rather defeated. It's really awful when I get in those moods. I start questioning my purpose in life. Isn't 24 a bit young for a mid-life crisis? I know I think too much and I've really been beating myself up lately about what to do with my life. I feel like I should have a career I'm really passionate about, but I can't seem to get into anything. I guess that's why I'm writing. When all else fails it is an excellent way to vent my thoughts, however dramatic or illogical they may be at any given moment. I like telling stories but I seem to let out all the negative and keep the positive thoughts for myself, as if I'm afraid I'll lose everything good I have if I take the chance of sharing it. Anyway, back to my life mission. The only things I know I'm passionate about are France (I love the country, the language, the food, the wine) and skiing, which I've been doing as long as I've been walking. I guess by those standards the only solution would be to move to the alps and get a job as a ski instructor! I actually thought at one point that it might be nice to move there, get married and be a stay at home mom and writer. If I could do all that in the Alps region (I'm thinking Lyon, although Grenoble is nice and I've heard lovely things about Annecy) I'd be set for life! But alas, reality is not so kind. I have a one year lease in Boston now, and about 30 years worth of student loan debt. Oh well. In the mean time, a girl can dream!

Emerging from Limbo

The big move to the city has been pretty hectic. I'm so relieved to finally be moved in and settled! The job search seems to be a lot more productive now. I'm starting a temp job on Tuesday with a non-profit organization. The staffing agency I'm working with is amazing! It is so nice to have someone else looking for jobs for me. It was the biggest headache trying to find a decent job and within an hour of being at this agency, they found the perfect job for me. Of course it's only temporary, but who knows what it will lead to? In the mean time it will be great experience. I can't wait to have a schedule again! I hate being all over the place with no routine. It really messes me up and I feel so unproductive. In other news, a good friend of mine from college is in town. She's living on the west coast so I haven't seen her in over a year. We went out last night for happy hour around 6pm and I wasn't in bed until around 3am! It was so fun to catch up and go out with her but I hate drinking! I had the worst hangover all day and all these new numbers in my phone that I could hardly remember who they belong to. In a sense I shouldn't complain because I didn't pay for a drink all night, but I think that was really the root of my downward spiral into overboard intoxication. When I buy my drinks, I pay attention to how much I'm spending and thus, how much I'm drinking. I only intended to have a glass of wine or two and I ended up on the dancefloor of a night club sucking down redbull and vodkas like a castaway in the dessert who just discovered an oasis! Rediculous. Nobody needs that kind of social lubrication. I don't think there was anyone in downtown Boston who wasn't aware by the end of the night that I had just returned from Europe and moved into a new apartment. I was teaching people how to say "cheers" in Finnish and recommending that all the girls who are sick of short men should visit Holland. I've been in such a strong internal reflection mode for so long I wasn't even aware that I was capable of being so social. Well, I'm going to have to take a rain check tonight. I'm going to keep nursing this headache and fix myself a nice cup of tea before bed.

Transitions

Maybe it's just my slightly uptight capricorn nature, but no matter how excited I am about a big change in my life I just can't stand the feeling of being in limbo. There is very little I dislike more than not having control over my own life or personal situation. Packing is fine. I've managed to gather everything I need for the big move through various means. I've done a little hardcore bargain shopping with my grandmother and a bit of sifting through the basements and garages of various family members to find the rest. It's amazing, really, how much silverwear one can acquire without buying any of it. Everytime someone in the family dies, all their silverwear seems to migrate to one place where it sits tarnishing in a bucket of mismatched peices for about a decade until one of the youth (myself, in this case) comes along and attempts to find a set. Naturally there is an odd amount. In my case, I managed to find 8 matching forks, 2 matching table spoons and a soup spoon all from the same original set. I wonder what happened to all those other spoons and knives. I mean, who could have possibly needed them but not needed the forks? I imagine they're lost in mismatch land with so many of those odd socks.

But back to this limbo thing: it's not really working for me. I've spent the last two months playing the chicken and egg game with my job and apartment hunt. My family lives in Maine so my transient lifestyle has involved couch and spare bed hopping around the state. During this time I've been applying for jobs, but of course my background in international business and marketing doesn't really lend itself to the small town, small business culture of Maine. Alas, I've decided to migrate south for the winter. Well, south of Maine, anyway. My job search has been focusing on Boston. Then came the big question: do I secure a job first, or an apartment? If I start interviewing for jobs, I'm going to have to take the train two and a half hours and find a friend's couch to crash on every time an opportunity arises. On the other hand, if I find the apartment first I have to find a job before my savings runs out and I can't pay the rent. After several long trips for interviews, I finally decided that the apartment is more important. So now I have a decent place in a great neighborhood with a roommate and the pressure is on. The economy is crashing and it is my duty to find a steady source of income. That starving artist thing doesn't go over so well when there are other people sharing the lease!

Despite my quiet, internal panic attack - I've been dreaming about Finland and other dreadful things - I can't trouble myself to write cover letters or make phone calls again until I get settled in. In fact, I haven't done much of anything productive for myself all week, aside from getting everything I need for the apartment. Did I mention my roommate is flying in from Italy and I am bringing furniture for her, too? Yeah, I'm packing for two. I've actually been doing all kinds of nice things for other people. I've been helping take care of my uncle's dogs while he's in Colorado. Don't get me wrong, I love dogs, but those poor guys are so old one of them should really be put down. Beyond that, it's a 30 minute drive into the Maine wilderness from where I'm staying and going out there is like stepping onto the set of Murder, She Wrote. I've also gone to the local jail with my mom to bail out my brother. His intentions are generally good, but he seems to enjoy stressing out the rest of us by doing something completely rediculous every now and then and reminding us that he hasn't quite grown up yet. I seriously wonder if he ever will. I mean, how many times can one spend a night in the drunk tank? From what I hear it's pretty unpleasant, to say the least. I've heard it described as something along the lines of a bare cell with a hole in the floor. I can't imagine it smells too hot after all the drunks that came before you, passing various genres of bodily waste in (and around, or quite possibly nowhere near) that little hole in the floor. I guess that explains why he's generally in a foul mood even after we've been so nice as to post his bail. Welcome home, sunshine!

All in all I can't complain too much. Sure, I'm going through reverse culture shock for the second time in my life, and I'm unemployed as hysteria sets in about the condition of the American economy, but at least I've got a nice place to live. I've got some appointments and interviews set up with staffing agencies, so hopefully that will prove fruitful. If not, I'm screwed. Wish me luck, folks!

Hello World!

Well, I guess it's about time I got onto this whole blogging thing. The occassional MySpace blogs were a bit pathetic. So here I am! I suppose the best place to start would be with an introduction: Hi! My name is Tarsha.

I've spent a little more than a year working and travelling throughout Europe. When I meet new people abroad who want to know what I do, my response is that I'm an international lady of mystery. I think I'll stick with that explanation because the reality isn't that far from it. Charlie's Angel? Bond girl? Yes, something along those lines. I could tell you why I quit, but then I'd have to kill you. No, really, I got tired living out of a suitcase. I've resolved to become a real high-roller, to have a home to come back to at the end of all my awesome journeys. So what am I doing now? Well, I guess now that I've stepped back from the international lady of mystery lifestyle, I'm stepping into more of a starving artist role. How can I be a high roller and a starving artist all at once? I'm awesome. Yessir, plain and simple awesomeness.

So here I am, back in the States. I've been sort of homeless and unemployed for the last month or two. No worries, now I'm just unemployed. This week, I'm moving into my new place in the most European neighborhood I could find here in America. I guess I have a bit of reverse culture shock. Nonetheless, I'm looking forward to getting settled for a change, and hoping to find work soon. In the mean time, I've decided to write a novel. (Hence the new blog...) What kind of novel? I don't know yet. I've had some ideas flying around in my head but I'm still in the research phase. I'm doing a lot of reading and trying to figure out where to start. Of course, I also have to write as much as I can, just to make sure I realize what I'm getting myself into and make sure that I actually like writting enough to sacrifice a bit of my social life. I guess I'll start writing about sexy adventures and stop living them! Can't hurt. I need a time out, anyway.