Julie & Julia (...and Rosalia)

The theme for my blog is slowly starting to reveal itself to me with each entry I write.

I'm the type of person who contemplates life probably more than the average American. At times it brings me angst (well maybe more often than I would like), and other times it makes me feel so alive. Socrates once said, "A life without thinking is not worth thinking" -- and I agree.

The reason I bring this up (Socrates on a Saturday morning? that's deep, even for me) is because I like sharing my thoughts and reactions to something that I recently read, watched, or spoke about with friends. Because let's face it, it's hard to come up with a revelation completely on one's own.

Last night was cold -- I mean frigid, tundra-like, inhumanly chilly -- so I decided to cozy up with my trusty electric blanket (aka my "surrogate boyfriend") and watch the film Julie & Julia starring Amy Adams and Meryl Streep. It was an appropriate movie for me to rent, considering I've been eating everything in sight since the Northeast starting featuring only 6 hours of daylight. That and because my aforementioned bf (the person, not the blanket) has lost so many battles of video rentals to me that I thought it would be a nice early Christmas present to spare him his manhood this one time. (Though I'm convinced he secretly LOVES my movie selections but pretends to abhor them so as to uphold his 'manly' persona...)

I'm no movie critic, but I thought that the movie was delightfully light-hearted -- just the type of entertainment I was in need of after a long week. I learned more than I expected to (e.g how to debone a duck), but what I walked away with was the inspired idea to blog about a personal challenge. In Julie's case it was to cook each one of Julia Childs' 542 recipes from her book Mastering the Art of French Cooking in 365 days, the purpose of which was to help Julie write about something she loved -- eating! -- thereby taking away some of her anxiety and insecurity towards writing (at the start of the film it was revealed she had indeed written a novel, albeit only half).

For those who know me, my top 3 interests are pretty obvious. They are, in no particular order: cooking, eating and writing. So needless to say this movie spoke to me, whereas for others it might have lulled them to sleep. She was so dedicated, so inspired, a welcome departure from the numb feeling she had toward her job and super-successful friends. I couldn't help think to myself: that's what I want!

So I decided that to attempt a similar journey. I have no intention of cooking French food, in part because I prefer Italian cuisine but also because I do not have the funds to do so (only film pet peeve: how could Julie possibly afford this project while working as a government secretary and living above a pizzeria is Long Island City??) My goal, instead, is to write about my trials and tribulations in finding a full-time job that I want/love/deserve during an extremely difficult economic period.

Both Julie's and my challenge are a bit of a stretch, but maybe it'll help revitalize me during this seemingly never-ending search. As so often I feel foolish at best, and hopeless at worst (worse?). I welcome any and all feedback (and personal anecdotes!!) during this period because I am by no means an expert in 1. optimism or 2. job search. But please, no negative comments -- I cover that portion of the debate plenty. And I'll be sure to share whatever resources or techniques that prove successful along the way!

I'll be saying bon appetit! to my dinner party guests in no time! But 'boneless duck' won't be on the menu ;) Stay tuned!

That which you manifest is before you...

This is a quote from a book I recently read called "The Art of Racing in the Rain" by Garth Stein. It's written in the perspective of a dog, and it completely charmed me. The dog, Enzo, longs to be human, and perceives the world (and people) around him with both a wistful longing and a bit of disdain. We humans can get it so wrong sometimes, he says. If he were human he would live better, stronger, faster (the theme is car racing), and with more vigor. Towards the end of the book he realizes that maybe life isn't as easy as he wants to believe. No kidding, Enz.

There were a few pearls of wisdom that I took from this book, including the quote above and another fave: "Your car goes where your eyes go." Meaning, keep focusing on what you want and eventually, somehow, you will get there. During a time when it's so easy to get sucked in by negativity and self-doubt, when the world seems so upside-down that you don't know where or how to put yourself right side-up, it helps to keep a little perspective. Sometimes it comes from a loved one -- human or animal -- other times it might just come from yourself.

I've been trying a combination of the two (or in this case, three), to get me through this bleak period of underemployment and job search ridiculosity. The kind words of encouragement (and occasional ass-kicking) by those who care about me has kept me moving along, whether at the pace of a lion or a slug, but moving nonetheless. When I've exhausted these resources (at least until they can be replenished with gratitude and baked goods), I turn to my other true love: reading.

My lifelong love affair with this unglamorous 'passatempo' began in the fourth grade. I won a school reading contest that left me beaming with such pride, my chest puffed with confidence and dare I say, arrogance -- I knew it would always be a part of me. And as a person whose eyes light up when revealing that she is a tried-and-true extrovert, reading has become a form of escapism and/or self-therapy in my adult life. It costs nothing (if I remember to return the library books on time), and it teaches me things about life, my deepest fears or desires, and even how to improve my relationship without making me feel like a moron. In short, it soothes and replenishes me.

My question for you, is, what have you read (or listened to) lately that has left you feeling triumphant, renewed, or simply -- alive? If you don't have an answer, perhaps you'll decide to try "The Art of Racing in the Rain?" See where your eyes take you.

One question too many?

What is my job on this planet with a Capital J?

I suppose that by just asking myself this question I am headed in the right direction, or at least towards an answer. But it can also appear that the more questions I ask myself, the more the answers seem to elude me. It’s so much easier to come up with questions than answers, until your mind is outnumbered, little white flags waving furiously in the hopes that the question marks will stop assaulting your purer, nicer thoughts. Or, at a party where there are so many girls and not enough boys, a social catastrophe that results in one or two awkward pairings moving around self-consciously on the dance floor, wondering why he chose me and he asking himself the same thing.

Needless to say, I just go around and around with this. There are so many jobs out there, how am I to know which one will best suit me, or my color? My aptitude? Fulfill the potential that almost everyone (Mom, teacher, Oprah) insists that I have? What if I don’t have all this supposed ‘potential’? And what did they do with their potential? Well, obviously Oprah turned out alright, but what if she really wanted to be a doctor all along?

Then what? Is she not doing her Job with a Capital J? Did she mistakenly answer someone else’s life Call?

See, more questions. Before you know it the page is filled with them, and the answers stand no chance of ever catching up.

This is the moment when a light bulb turns on and I tell myself—there doesn’t have to be an answer to every question. Even just understanding that there will always be more questions than answers is a revelation in and of itself! Yet, somehow, I’m not satisfied by this. Maybe I once learned that asking questions makes you look smart, or smarter, or the smartest. Raising your hand with the answer already brings you down a notch (or several notches, depending on how many times you raise your hand) on the social totem pole. Therefore, it’s cool not to have the answers, even more so if you keep asking questions that couldn’t possibly have an answer to begin with (how cool would you be if you asked an obvious question?).

Is there a job where I can ask questions all day??

Maybe a scientist. But I’m pretty sure their job is to actually get answers, and prove them over and over again. And I’d probably go crazy if I spent all this time discovering the answer to a pretty important question (scientists don’t come across as a frivolous bunch), then spent twice that amount of time making sure that I always got that answer, only to have some freak incident occur which would then force me to report a 99.9998% accuracy rate. That might make render me clinically insane, which is a lot less cool than mildly neurotic, as only true New Yorkers can pride themselves on being.

Back to the question(s?) at hand. What is my Job with a Capital J? Well, let me ask you, what is yours?

(The question at hand is taken from the book Wherever You Go, There You Are by Jon Kabat-Zinn. And no, Jess, I did not make up that title, but I wish that I had.)