Your Unemployed Daughter

photo credit: 416style

Here’s one that YUD will probably never apply for, largely because she has a hard time seeing herself ever leaving the gloriously claustrophobic confines of Manhattan—even if only to Brooklyn—much less moving halfway across the country. (She is, in many ways, a creature of habit, and Colorado is a strange and foreign land.)

Still, if and when that day ever arises, I hope the people at Aspen Magazine are hiring. Here’s why: Read the rest of this entry »

photo credit: RBerteig

In celebration of all this turkey biz-nizz, our most disturbing Alaskan frenemy—yes, I’m speaking of she-who-must-not-be-named—ran herself a race.

No, sillies! Not that kind of race. Please, never again that kind of race.

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After all that turkey talk, guess what we ate last night? That’s right, a chicken.

However, and despite the fact that it doesn’t photograph well, it was a highly delicious chicken. And there was stuffing, and roasted Brussels sprouts, potatoes, butternut squash, shallots, and even a parsnip or two.

B did a very good job with the cooking; as well as the aforementioned goodies he whipped up a pumpkin pie according to Mom’s old recipe, which we ate with homemade vanilla ice cream that had an intriguing bologna aftertaste. Not to say that wasn’t delicious, too. I just ate another slice (sans ice cream) for breakfast, and it was even better. That’s the thing about pie.

And now it’s Black Friday, and we’re deciding whether to go to Where the Wild Things Are or the Pixies concert. Both great contributors to my youth, and so, it all comes full circle.

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photo credit: VancityAllie

Today’s post will be short because, let’s face it, you’re probably not reading, so ensconced are you in your multitudinous preparations for a magnificent feast. And I’ve got a train to catch: I’m off to the first New England Thanksgiving (minus M&D) in my family’s capricious and roving history, I do believe.

As always, the freelance life and the holiday life create a strange “vacation vector” in which work has still to be done, and yet, you don’t want to do it because all of the fully employed people have days off. Or, the converse: You have and haven’t had work in ages, so a holiday is just another day to you.

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photo credit: Nick Bastian Tempe, AZ

The word “thankful” tends to stick in my craw a little bit, maybe because I grew up in the South and people used to bandy it about as often as “God bless,” “Bless her heart,” and “Isn’t that sweet!” in tones that meant, frequently, the very opposite of what Mr. Webster originally intended.

It’s the word more than the sentiment, though, that bugs me. Because I really am thankful for stuff. I am! I just don’t post it on Facebook a lot, or tell anyone except my stuffed animals.

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photo credit: Eweinhoffer

I know that you’re probably focused on your own life and how you’re going to pay your rent and cook your Thanksgiving turkey and all, but zoos are having a hard time these days.

Animals are hungry, you know. Feeding them is not cheap. Plus, there’s cage and terrarium maintenance, and landscaping, and making sure the wild, vicious beasts don’t get out and eat people, cause they’re hungry, you know…

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photo credit: Andrew Scott

I have to go into the office. I have had this hanging over me since last night, and I still have yet to do it. It’s probably a 10-minute cab ride, 30 by bus, but it’s grey outside and I’m just so productive with my ass in my lovely blue CB2 chair I’m loathe to leave it. And having to do something as mundane as venture to 45th Street to move a few files from server 1 to server 2, well, it doesn’t inspire definitive action. As you can see.

Instead, I am reminded of the nice things about working from home. Such as:

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photo credit: bernardoh

The party was good. Conversation flowed like the fine wine we quaffed, and I didn’t even need to mention yoga. I woke up with a matted tangle of hair on the back of my head rivaling the teasing in Olivia Newton-John’s mane after she went all bad-Sandy: “Tell me about it, stud.”

And my head still hurts, and it’s almost 5 pm. Which means, like I said, party was good.

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photo credit: vissago

Tonight I am going to a smart people’s party. There will be successful folks there from every successful walk of life: energetic activists, generous patrons of the arts, brilliant journalists, fantastic editors, good breeders, medical professionals who have saved lives. I am a little nervous.

After all, I work part-time trying to convince diabetics to eat more processed foods. I piggyback off of Dan Brown’s ill-written novels with companion magazines the sole purpose of which is to make fans of the books feel smart. I have spoken with Paula Abdul’s manager on more than one occasion. I have an unemployment blog.

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photo credit: babyruthinmd

Today has been one of those difficult-to-focus types of days. I have a million little things to do and follow up on, and so I flit from item to item on my list and don’t accomplish much of anything, except thinking about everything a little, and that’s a kind of progress, no?

While washing a portion of my dishes, I noted that this is, in fact, one of the strange benefits of being unemployed/working from home.

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