Years May Go By
Two years later. Time to take inventory.
So what have I been up to for the last two years?
My last journal entry left off in March of 2009. I found it extremely interesting that the last topic I wrote about was anticipation. I didn’t know what I was waiting for or excited about, but I knew I was anticipating it’s arrival. I am going to pick up where I left off - and hope you are going to join me for the ride.
March 2009 - July 28, 2009
My last journal entry left off describing how I felt unsatisfied by work and how I wanted to start focusing on and taking better care of myself. Funny how such little can change in such a long period of time.
It also talked about my potential trip to Italy.
One aspect of my personality that I’ll never deny is my amazing work ethic. When a job is put in front of me I’ll attack with full devotion and do the best that I can do. That was the situation when working at the Beneficial branch at 12th and Chestnut. I went to work everyday and did the best job that I knew I could do. Despite not feeling like it was where I belonged any longer I had a sweet setup and I trudged along giving it my all.
In addition, the job at the branch suddenly became essential. At the end of March 2009 I made a decision to move out with Kimmy and Katie effective May 15. The three of us toured a beautiful house at the corner of 2nd and Jackson Streets. The house was absolutely stunning; everything -- bathroom, appliances, etc. - were brand new and the house had just been gutted and done over. However, we also toured another house off of 5th and Oregon that I loved, loved, loved so much more than the 2nd and Jackson house. This house, too, had recently been completely remodeled and was beautiful. I let the K’s sway my decision to select the 2nd and Jackson house because Katie felt the 5th and Oregon house was too small. I felt it was perfect, but the house on 2nd did offer more than the other so I made the decision to live there.
I had started to feel like I “needed” to get out of my Mom’s house. I let myself talk myself into believing I was a loser for still living at home and I “needed” to be more independent. It was a moment in time that I felt I had to try to make it out in the world again. Plus, 2nd and Jackson was not far from home, it wasn’t urban living like when I lived at 13th and Spruce, I could still visit home and see the dog, plus I was living in a full two story house, not a studio apartment, with two of my best friends. I could pull it off this time.
For the remainder of March, all of April and half of May I saved my money and prepared to move the middle of May.
The move went smoothly for me because I had such little belongings to take with me. Moving in was a festive time and I was excited about the future. On the other hand, I still had a nagging feeling that this was not a good decision to make. I ignored my instincts and tried to enjoy this new adventure that lay in front of me.
My instincts were almost immediately proven right. Before we moved in and thereafter, I was warned by various people that the teenagers in the area were wild, like animals, and that they hung out on our steps. I had no idea what “hung out on the step” meant and, at the worst, I figured we would shoo children off our steps here and there. No big deal.
Wrong.
What began as a few teenagers on our front step, soon turned in to HOARDS of them as the summer progressed. When we would go out and ask them to leave they would curse us out and then eventually it turned into throwing items, such as basketballs and bricks, at our front door and windows. Oddly, they would only gather between the hours of 10pm and midnight. The police were absolutely useless and did nothing, despite us calling every single night of the week. It eventually turned into a situation where we all hated being home and I would try to find any excuse imaginable to not be there.
I could list countless examples of situations we encountered while we lived at that house, but it just infuriates me when I think about it so I’ll save myself the regression. Suffice to say, I hated every minute of living in that house.
During the time when I realized what a huge mistake I made moving into that house, the Italy dream was morphing into a reality. Karen, owner and director of International Opera Theater, and I formed a bond during the spring of 2009 and I committed to traveling to Italy with the opera company. I couldn’t believe that it was going to become a reality until it finally did on July 28, 2009.
Before Italy, though, Katie, Kimmy and I traveled to Austin, Texas. As fate would have it, of course, Tori was touring the east coast during the months I was going to be in Italy. But I *had* to see her!! I could not miss a Tori tour!! My only option was to travel to Austin, Texas and see her in concert. I feared I would have to go alone, which, believe me, I totally would have done, but Katie and Kimmy were both able to come along for the trip!
I won’t write too much about the trip because the pictures that I have from that adventure pretty much capture it all, but it was one of the most amazing experiences I’ve ever had. I fell in love with Austin and I often think about moving there. Seriously, if someone called me up out of the blue tomorrow and said, “I have a job for you in Austin,” my reply would be, “See you in a few days.” I would have no hesitation to pick up and live there. That weekend in Austin was such a phenomenal trip. I enjoyed every single minute there.
Ciao Bella!: July 28, 2009 - September 1, 2009
The day to leave for Italy had arrived. I was terrified.
The night before I left to go abroad I hosted a dinner to say goodbye to me at the Olive Garden at Broad and Chestnut. I will never forget this night as long as I live. What I thought was going to be a few people turned out to be over 30+ individuals all gathered to wish me good luck. I have never felt so loved in my whole life. I really, truly felt special and cared for that night. The amount of love and warmth that I received that night was unlike anything I’d ever experienced in my life and is something I hope everyone gets to experience at least once in their lives. I often think about that dinner and wonder if it was real or not.
My favorite moment of that whole night came after the dinner was over. I had walked over to Lauren’s grandmom’s house and sat on her front step and we just talked. I have no idea what we talked about: probably what I thought Italy was going to be like and how different it would be to not see each other for so long. I distinctly remember thinking: “I won’t see her or anyone in Philly for a month and a half. I don’t know what is going to happen.” I remember leaving her that night and thinking, “Okay, here I go...” and I did.
As I traveled the nightmarish journey from Philly to Rome (four layovers - altogether a day and half journey, which saw me get yelled at by angry German border patrol agents and falling asleep in Austrian airports) I wrote this, trying to recap, at that time, my year to date:
_________________________________
Half way through 2009.
Half way over the Atlantic Ocean on my way to Europe (central Italy to be exact).
Let’s take it one step at a time.
The first half of this year was merely a mish mash of days coming and going. The New Year, as it always does, started out with the annual, and typical, New Year’s Eve celebration at my Mom’s house and the New Year’s Day parade. Although, this year, because of budgeting (what else?) the parade was in jeopardy of not occurring. It eventually did but with limits, less time for the parade and a shortened route.
What was particular about this New Year’s was that Joei, for her own personal reasons, flew home from Florida to Philadelphia after Thanksgiving of 2008 and stayed on until Valentine’s Day 2009. Having her in Philly again was…nostalgic. Joei doesn’t change much and her most recent visit was evidence of that (I‘ll never forget walking into Colburn‘s and seeing somebody we knew from grade school, who didn‘t look all that hot. Joei walked out of the deli, saying: “Ew! She looked horrible! What is wrong with her? I can‘t believe you talked to it! When we get home I‘ll inspect you for lice.” Joei was completely and utterly serious.)
New Year’s, for me, has always been a time of seeing distant friends and celebrating with them, making new memories with old, comfortable companions. Joei was around for some weekends, attended a bar outing or two. The first night she came to visit for the New Year holiday we both slept in my bedroom and it was like being 16 again. Same people, same environment, same silly problems and vapid gossip. It felt warm and welcome.
When she eventually went back to Florida it was of absolutely no surprise and it didn’t hurt because I already knew she would never stay here.
When she went to college and then broke up with Dante, and eventually lost touch with me altogether, with the exception of the occasional phone call or random MySpace message, I felt really angry at her and uncomfortable with our friendship. This most recent trip of hers, being able to spend time with her and listening to her side of so many different topics and life events, was the end of that anger and awkwardness for me. She’ll always be there, somewhere, in my head and my heart. She’ll always be Joei. Her visit was re-visiting situations that had happened years ago and events I was not able to let go of. Because of her trip to Philly and being able to ask questions and dive for answers, I was not only able to let go of my emotional wounds -- whether this is because I’ve grown as a person myself or because there was some sort of mental reconciliation that happened while she was in Philly -- but also able to accept her for who she is and understanding, at least a piece, of her core.
Artful Writing was the one and only class I took during the spring semester at Rosemont and I was also working on my thesis as well, supposed to be completed in May. Artful Writing was a terrific class and I felt like I learned a lot in it (although, I still have yet to check my grade for it). It was also the end of my course work at Rosemont, which means I have nothing left to complete other than this internship in Italy and my thesis. Artful Writing was probably the best way to end Rosemont because it was truly the most structured, but independent, class that I enrolled in and it also allowed me to be creative within borders - and I very much like limits and borders. As I mentioned, I still haven’t checked my grade for it, which I am sure is an A, but I think there might be a deeper meaning behind me hesitating to check my final result. I’ll explore that at some other point in time.
Artful Writing ended the last week in April. And what was supposed to be my thesis deadline was the last week in May.
This did not occur.
My Master’s thesis project was quite the mess. Originally, it started out all the way back in November 2008 during a lunch between Sharon and myself. We were discussing thesis options when she volunteered that she was working on a new self-hypnosis CD and she wanted assistance in marketing her product. This was absolutely perfect for me, as I am getting a Master’s Degree in Publishing with a concentration in marketing. She had a publishable project and wanted to market it. What a fantastic thesis project!
I should’ve known better before entering in a quasi-business arrangement with Sharon. When I worked with her at Sisters Painting she bailed on me and left me with Crazy Ann. Integrating Bodyworks had serious potential until she left me bankrupt and without a plan B and bailed on me yet again. There was definitely a pattern of getting bailed on by her, but this was my Master’s thesis. Surely, she wouldn’t bail on me for such an important project - would she?
Yes, she would.
After two months of drawing up an amazing, wonderful marketing plan for her dumpy little project, we had a meeting in which I went over the entire marketing plan in full and she met each one of my over-the-top fantastic and innovative ideas with a shrug and a “maybe”. Half way through the meeting I stopped her and told her I didn’t feel like she was taking this project very seriously. Up to this point it had taken two months just for me to sit down and meet with her and now, here it was: April -- and my project needed to be completed in a month an a half. Hello, Sharon! What’s the prob?!
The prob, apparently, was that I wasn’t marketing the product she wanted me too. During one of our early meetings in December 2008 she mentioned she was starting a weight loss hypnosis system. The original plan was for me to market her self-hypnosis stress reducing CD. The stress relief CD had already been produced at this point and there was an actual product to market, whereas, God knew how long it would take her to record and materialize her Kraft Fat Free system or whatever.
Sharon had, according to her, “not been understanding” why I was going forward with the stress relief marketing plan because she wanted to focus on and market her You’re Fat - But Not! CD. She never told me this and I wish she had because I would have dropped out of working with her on my thesis.
Half way through 2009.
Half way over the Atlantic Ocean on my way to Europe (central Italy to be exact).
Let’s take it one step at a time.
The first half of this year was merely a mish mash of days coming and going. The New Year, as it always does, started out with the annual, and typical, New Year’s Eve celebration at my Mom’s house and the New Year’s Day parade. Although, this year, because of budgeting (what else?) the parade was in jeopardy of not occurring. It eventually did but with limits, less time for the parade and a shortened route.
What was particular about this New Year’s was that Joei, for her own personal reasons, flew home from Florida to Philadelphia after Thanksgiving of 2008 and stayed on until Valentine’s Day 2009. Having her in Philly again was…nostalgic. Joei doesn’t change much and her most recent visit was evidence of that (I‘ll never forget walking into Colburn‘s and seeing somebody we knew from grade school, who didn‘t look all that hot. Joei walked out of the deli, saying: “Ew! She looked horrible! What is wrong with her? I can‘t believe you talked to it! When we get home I‘ll inspect you for lice.” Joei was completely and utterly serious.)
New Year’s, for me, has always been a time of seeing distant friends and celebrating with them, making new memories with old, comfortable companions. Joei was around for some weekends, attended a bar outing or two. The first night she came to visit for the New Year holiday we both slept in my bedroom and it was like being 16 again. Same people, same environment, same silly problems and vapid gossip. It felt warm and welcome.
When she eventually went back to Florida it was of absolutely no surprise and it didn’t hurt because I already knew she would never stay here.
When she went to college and then broke up with Dante, and eventually lost touch with me altogether, with the exception of the occasional phone call or random MySpace message, I felt really angry at her and uncomfortable with our friendship. This most recent trip of hers, being able to spend time with her and listening to her side of so many different topics and life events, was the end of that anger and awkwardness for me. She’ll always be there, somewhere, in my head and my heart. She’ll always be Joei. Her visit was re-visiting situations that had happened years ago and events I was not able to let go of. Because of her trip to Philly and being able to ask questions and dive for answers, I was not only able to let go of my emotional wounds -- whether this is because I’ve grown as a person myself or because there was some sort of mental reconciliation that happened while she was in Philly -- but also able to accept her for who she is and understanding, at least a piece, of her core.
Artful Writing was the one and only class I took during the spring semester at Rosemont and I was also working on my thesis as well, supposed to be completed in May. Artful Writing was a terrific class and I felt like I learned a lot in it (although, I still have yet to check my grade for it). It was also the end of my course work at Rosemont, which means I have nothing left to complete other than this internship in Italy and my thesis. Artful Writing was probably the best way to end Rosemont because it was truly the most structured, but independent, class that I enrolled in and it also allowed me to be creative within borders - and I very much like limits and borders. As I mentioned, I still haven’t checked my grade for it, which I am sure is an A, but I think there might be a deeper meaning behind me hesitating to check my final result. I’ll explore that at some other point in time.
Artful Writing ended the last week in April. And what was supposed to be my thesis deadline was the last week in May.
This did not occur.
My Master’s thesis project was quite the mess. Originally, it started out all the way back in November 2008 during a lunch between Sharon and myself. We were discussing thesis options when she volunteered that she was working on a new self-hypnosis CD and she wanted assistance in marketing her product. This was absolutely perfect for me, as I am getting a Master’s Degree in Publishing with a concentration in marketing. She had a publishable project and wanted to market it. What a fantastic thesis project!
I should’ve known better before entering in a quasi-business arrangement with Sharon. When I worked with her at Sisters Painting she bailed on me and left me with Crazy Ann. Integrating Bodyworks had serious potential until she left me bankrupt and without a plan B and bailed on me yet again. There was definitely a pattern of getting bailed on by her, but this was my Master’s thesis. Surely, she wouldn’t bail on me for such an important project - would she?
Yes, she would.
After two months of drawing up an amazing, wonderful marketing plan for her dumpy little project, we had a meeting in which I went over the entire marketing plan in full and she met each one of my over-the-top fantastic and innovative ideas with a shrug and a “maybe”. Half way through the meeting I stopped her and told her I didn’t feel like she was taking this project very seriously. Up to this point it had taken two months just for me to sit down and meet with her and now, here it was: April -- and my project needed to be completed in a month an a half. Hello, Sharon! What’s the prob?!
The prob, apparently, was that I wasn’t marketing the product she wanted me too. During one of our early meetings in December 2008 she mentioned she was starting a weight loss hypnosis system. The original plan was for me to market her self-hypnosis stress reducing CD. The stress relief CD had already been produced at this point and there was an actual product to market, whereas, God knew how long it would take her to record and materialize her Kraft Fat Free system or whatever.
Sharon had, according to her, “not been understanding” why I was going forward with the stress relief marketing plan because she wanted to focus on and market her You’re Fat - But Not! CD. She never told me this and I wish she had because I would have dropped out of working with her on my thesis.
_________________________________
I also wrote about two pages explaining the whole living in the Jackson Street house situation, but I figured that would be best left out.
I don’t know how to sum up the Italy experience. The more business/academic related topics have been addressed in my 50+ page thesis project, which I went to Italy as a Plan B after Sharon bailed on me.
I tell people all the time that it changed my life and it most absolutely, definitely did. Traveling to another country, all by my lonesome, made me aware I am more courageous than I give myself credit for. Also, my ability to form personal and close bonds while away also surprised me. I’m not that shy, quiet person I often brand myself as. There was a situation in Italy when I was telling one of my famous stories and I described myself as meek and the entire group started hysterically laughing because they just did not believe I could ever be meek. Realizing that’s how I came off just blew my mind because, in my head, I am shy and quiet, but that is just not how I show myself to the world.
So much happened in Italy, so many experiences, most of which I’ll probably never write about or elaborate on, but when all mooshed together it created an unbelievable experience that I’ll always give credit to for making me feel like anything is possible. Aside graduating from Drexel and Rosemont, it’s probably the life experience I am the most proud of.
When the Italy experience had ended I was very much ready to return home. I actually changed flights from a later date to much earlier to fly home. Rather than fly straight to Philly I flew to D.C. to see my Grandmom for a few days and then, in a bizarre twist, drove back to Philly with Kristina, where I returned to my terrific (sarcasm) house on Jackson Street.
Going through customs in Detroit was quite the experience. I almost missed my connecting plane to D.C., but made it by a half an hour. That whole trek -- landing in Detroit, sweating in customs that I wouldn’t make my plan, running for my flight -- meant something to me. It was the end of this crazy foreign experience I never thought would ever take place.
Welcome (Back) to Philly: September 1 - December 31, 2009
I told myself when I left for Italy that, upon returning, if the teenage situation did not calm down I was going to leave the house, despite Kimmy and Katie. I did not listen to myself.
My first night back in the Jackson St. house I was there all by myself. Katie and Kimmy decided to take a whirlwind vacation to Vegas and wouldn’t be returning until well after I had come back home. That first night the teenagers gathering outside on our front step as they did ritually. I hid in my room upstairs just hoping for them to go away, completely miserable and alone. I wanted to leave so badly, but I felt too much guilt over sticking the K’s with all the bills.
When the K’s did return from Vegas, of course I didn’t mention any of this. I really was thrilled to see them and we caught each other up on the past month and a half of our lives.
Not long after returning home, I decided to leave the branch and start looking for back office positions. It was mid-October when I decided I wanted to explore other positions in the bank. My Rosemont course work was now over, meaning I was no longer juggling attending classes and working and I didn’t have to worry about being somewhere after work at a certain time, which 12th Street was great for since the branch was down the street from the train station.
In late October/early November I was offered the position of payroll specialist in the human resources department. I accepted the position. This is more of a 2010 story so I’ll wait until the recap of this year to really get into that. Still, I honestly don’t know if I regret accepting this job or not. I’ve learned a ton, but also suffered quite a bit. Again, I’ll cover this all in the 2010 recap.
As far as the thesis project, the Italian internship gave me all the ammo I needed to attack the project full force and with my OCD riddled and kooky thesis advisor I was able to go full steam ahead. I have to give my thesis advisor full credit. She really pushed me and forced me to do the best job I was capable of doing. There were so many instances when I just didn’t care and she threw it in my face and forced me to really go the extra mile to make the project great. Granted, the project was not complete until January 2010 most of October, November and December saw me working on my thesis project and making it the best that I could. My thesis is not what I imagined it would be when I began writing it, and there was a slump in the process of completing it when I absolutely hated it, but it turned into something I am very proud of and legitimately can say I want my name attached to.
The year ended with the culmination of the Jackson Street house situation. About a week before Christmas, Philadelphia was slammed with the first of three wonderful blizzards that destroyed our city with mounds and mounds of snow! Normally, this would be something I would rejoice over, but instead, the teenagers in our neighborhood made the snow grenades and pelted our house nightly with ice and snow bullets.
One night Kimmy, Katie and I were sitting around our house, and after each one of us had an extended altercation with one of the children that evening, one of them decided to throw an ice block at our front door that was about the size of a small microwave. This ice block shattered our wooden front door down the middle.
That was the moment I decided to move out. My decision was echoed by Kimmy’s agreement that we should leave and Katie, though I don’t think she really wanted to, was going to look for another place.
Please keep in mind this one incident was fueled by months of similar incidents, though to a minor degree. I couldn’t take anymore. I was miserable and hated living there and the thought of moving out of there was a blessing I couldn’t wait to see materialize.
As 2009 came to a close I was beginning a new job and getting ready to move back home.
Two steps forward; two steps backwards.
I also wrote about two pages explaining the whole living in the Jackson Street house situation, but I figured that would be best left out.
I don’t know how to sum up the Italy experience. The more business/academic related topics have been addressed in my 50+ page thesis project, which I went to Italy as a Plan B after Sharon bailed on me.
I tell people all the time that it changed my life and it most absolutely, definitely did. Traveling to another country, all by my lonesome, made me aware I am more courageous than I give myself credit for. Also, my ability to form personal and close bonds while away also surprised me. I’m not that shy, quiet person I often brand myself as. There was a situation in Italy when I was telling one of my famous stories and I described myself as meek and the entire group started hysterically laughing because they just did not believe I could ever be meek. Realizing that’s how I came off just blew my mind because, in my head, I am shy and quiet, but that is just not how I show myself to the world.
So much happened in Italy, so many experiences, most of which I’ll probably never write about or elaborate on, but when all mooshed together it created an unbelievable experience that I’ll always give credit to for making me feel like anything is possible. Aside graduating from Drexel and Rosemont, it’s probably the life experience I am the most proud of.
When the Italy experience had ended I was very much ready to return home. I actually changed flights from a later date to much earlier to fly home. Rather than fly straight to Philly I flew to D.C. to see my Grandmom for a few days and then, in a bizarre twist, drove back to Philly with Kristina, where I returned to my terrific (sarcasm) house on Jackson Street.
Going through customs in Detroit was quite the experience. I almost missed my connecting plane to D.C., but made it by a half an hour. That whole trek -- landing in Detroit, sweating in customs that I wouldn’t make my plan, running for my flight -- meant something to me. It was the end of this crazy foreign experience I never thought would ever take place.
Welcome (Back) to Philly: September 1 - December 31, 2009
I told myself when I left for Italy that, upon returning, if the teenage situation did not calm down I was going to leave the house, despite Kimmy and Katie. I did not listen to myself.
My first night back in the Jackson St. house I was there all by myself. Katie and Kimmy decided to take a whirlwind vacation to Vegas and wouldn’t be returning until well after I had come back home. That first night the teenagers gathering outside on our front step as they did ritually. I hid in my room upstairs just hoping for them to go away, completely miserable and alone. I wanted to leave so badly, but I felt too much guilt over sticking the K’s with all the bills.
When the K’s did return from Vegas, of course I didn’t mention any of this. I really was thrilled to see them and we caught each other up on the past month and a half of our lives.
Not long after returning home, I decided to leave the branch and start looking for back office positions. It was mid-October when I decided I wanted to explore other positions in the bank. My Rosemont course work was now over, meaning I was no longer juggling attending classes and working and I didn’t have to worry about being somewhere after work at a certain time, which 12th Street was great for since the branch was down the street from the train station.
In late October/early November I was offered the position of payroll specialist in the human resources department. I accepted the position. This is more of a 2010 story so I’ll wait until the recap of this year to really get into that. Still, I honestly don’t know if I regret accepting this job or not. I’ve learned a ton, but also suffered quite a bit. Again, I’ll cover this all in the 2010 recap.
As far as the thesis project, the Italian internship gave me all the ammo I needed to attack the project full force and with my OCD riddled and kooky thesis advisor I was able to go full steam ahead. I have to give my thesis advisor full credit. She really pushed me and forced me to do the best job I was capable of doing. There were so many instances when I just didn’t care and she threw it in my face and forced me to really go the extra mile to make the project great. Granted, the project was not complete until January 2010 most of October, November and December saw me working on my thesis project and making it the best that I could. My thesis is not what I imagined it would be when I began writing it, and there was a slump in the process of completing it when I absolutely hated it, but it turned into something I am very proud of and legitimately can say I want my name attached to.
The year ended with the culmination of the Jackson Street house situation. About a week before Christmas, Philadelphia was slammed with the first of three wonderful blizzards that destroyed our city with mounds and mounds of snow! Normally, this would be something I would rejoice over, but instead, the teenagers in our neighborhood made the snow grenades and pelted our house nightly with ice and snow bullets.
One night Kimmy, Katie and I were sitting around our house, and after each one of us had an extended altercation with one of the children that evening, one of them decided to throw an ice block at our front door that was about the size of a small microwave. This ice block shattered our wooden front door down the middle.
That was the moment I decided to move out. My decision was echoed by Kimmy’s agreement that we should leave and Katie, though I don’t think she really wanted to, was going to look for another place.
Please keep in mind this one incident was fueled by months of similar incidents, though to a minor degree. I couldn’t take anymore. I was miserable and hated living there and the thought of moving out of there was a blessing I couldn’t wait to see materialize.
As 2009 came to a close I was beginning a new job and getting ready to move back home.
Two steps forward; two steps backwards.
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