Traipsing around the East Coast

It's been a few days. Sorry 'bout that. I'd give the same, lame excuse (things have been nutty), but I'll spare you that.

I've been in the city a month. Still freelancing, still unemployed, but now I'm in this odd rut of trying to pitch stories and get more jobs--in other words, I'm doing a TON of work for no money. So, I'm resorting to getting some sort of baby-sitting job or something to make ends meet. I'm reverting back to a high school existence. Can you tell I'm thrilled about it?

That said, I did make it down to DC this weekend for a good friend's and old co-worker's wedding. And, praise be, I'm off the wedding hook until 2009!

Thank you, Megabus, for your grand $38 transportation.

And thank you Hotel Monticello for transporting us back to the 1700s and waking us up with these nice mules:

Georgetown's M Street is fantastic. I'd never been down to DC before, so I was thrilled both of the friends I was with were up to making it into a mini-vacation. We shopped (window shopping, of course) and ate. A lot. Crabcakes, shrimp, beer, yum!

Saturday morning, we got up (not early; I was sleeping on a real bed and was reveling) and then decided to traipse around the National Mall to see the monuments. A quick nervous moment when the parking garage attendent lost our keys but we found them and were on our way.

Again, I'd never been to DC, so my inner nerd revealed itself quickly. Lincoln, Jefferson, Roosevelt, oh my! I geeked out. Next time: museums. Watch out.

That's me in front of Mr. Obama's new house for the next four years.

Sandy and me Washington Monument-ing.

Where Jenny saw Forrest again!

After our whirlwind National Mall tour, we scooted back to Georgetown, gorged on sweet potato fries at the Tackle Box (seriously, go there), and drove to the Holiday Inn in Leesburg, Virginia. Well to be more accurate, we drove there, passed the hotel, then after a "uh, I'm getting concerned we're going the wrong way," drove back again (when there are iPhones in the car playing Jon Stewart videos, we miss exits).

Quickest wedding preparations ever at the hotel, then we sped off to the b-ea-u-tiful Breaux Vineyards in Purceville, Virginia.

I'm a big fan of weddings at wineries.

The best Country Home staff there ever was.

A quick trip back on Megabus, and I was back in the city. A great trip.

This weekend: My 25th birthday. Yes, kids, it's true. I've been around for a good quarter century. But to be honest, I'm not feeling to keen on the whole party I planned for tomorrow. I'd rather just let it pass quietly--after all, it's hard to celebrate when you, uh, don't have a job, apartment, or otherwise real meaning for existence. However, drama aside, it should be fun.

I Bit It

Yup, it's true. I bit it in the subway. Running to catch the F train at Rockefeller Center, my hot new patent, pointy-toe pumps got caught in my hot new wide-leg trousers. Down I went, and there's a little rub in my hot new trousers to prove it.

I wasn't even a bit embarrassed; just pissed that I'd probably missed the train. So I picked myself up and realized it was the V train I was running for -- the F train came a minute later and whisked me home.

See? These are the ups and downs of New York. One minute you're cursing the train and its many detours (then you get out and aimlessly travel five avenue blocks the wrong direction while talking on the phone); the next minute you're having chocolate and peanut butter fro yo with a great old friend, then on the way home, the train arrives immediately.

You love it here, you hate it here. That's the way it goes.

Today is really just my second full day in the city. I've been a traveling queen thus far. This weekend, I Amtrak-ed it to Hudson for a good friend's carnival-like wedding.

There was a juggler,



and a tight-rope walker,



And these clowns, too:



But mostly, it was the grandest party and the most genuine wedding I've been to. Best of all, I was reunited with the people that made me who I am (seriously). I wouldn't be pursuing a dream of working in New York if it weren't for the three kids with me in the bottom photo, plus many, many other people from Drake who I worked on DMAG with. Anywho, more spectacular shots here, please.

On the way home, we stopped at the Storm King Art Center for a bit of culture and nature, all in one!

Look how strong she is!

Look how tall he isn't!

Then, finally, I was home for Labor Day and enjoyed a lovely backyard Brooklyn BBQ, but didn't make it into Manhattan at all. Yesterday, I was up in Chappaqua (can we all guess what interview I had there?) and drove by Bill and Hillary's pad. Today, I finally went into the city for an HR meeting, but now have lots of work to be done from home. Tomorrow, another interview, and Friday another HR meeting (and two edit tests due somewhere in between).

Whew. There's a reason it's the city that never sleeps.

Kansas City, Here I Come

Or, more accurately, Kansas City, Here I've Been.

It's been two weeks since I've left Portland. And since then, I've been to nine states: Oregon, Washington, Georgia, Missouri, Kansas, Illinois, Minnesota, Wisconsin, and Iowa. It's been a busy few weeks. It's keeping my mind away from being currently unemployed (which really, I'm not, considering I've kept up my income and then some freelancing ... thank goodness).

My days are filled with applying for jobs, working on freelancing, sending out packets of cover letter, resume, clips, cover letter, resume, clips.

And somewhere in between, I went to a good friend's wedding, saw my friends from college, came home, (cover letter, resume, clips, yet again) then went up to Des Moines for a few days. I mostly went to get a bit more freelance work, but ended up squeezing all I love about Des Moines into 48 hours: went to the fair (you do know it's on of the 1,000 Places to See Before You Die, right?), had salad and pizza at Centro, enjoyed wine and cheese on a good friend's porch, had a bean burrito at El Rodeo, sat outside at Snookies, and woke up early to spend all morning at the world's best farmers market (sorry, Portland, I love you, but Des Moines kicks your butt when it comes to farmers markets).




I realized one thing: I'm lucky. I'm a lucky lucky lucky girl. Not only do I have friends all across the country, I have good friends who honestly care about me and my happiness and success. And who will eat bad Mexican food with me, go for a swirl cone at Snookies right afterward, then sit around and watch the Olympics on a Friday night.



For a while upon coming back to KC and leaving Portland, I was afraid I couldn't really ever come home again; that things change too quickly and they won't ever quite be the same when you return. To be honest, I did feel a bit like an outsider in Des Moines, not living there anymore. And I think what I'm really afraid of is that some day, I'll go back to Portland and it will be so different than when I was there this year -- that Portland will have forgotten me.

But, I never felt such a warm homecoming as when I did going back to Des Moines. I was booked solid with breakfasts, lunches, coffees, and dinners. I can only hope New York welcomes me back with such open arms; and that Portland will, too, when I find my way back there even for just a visit.