Meeting new people

There are so many ways to start over, so many areas in which Leonard and I will be starting from scratch. I realize, for example, that I may have to tone down my dark sense of humor until people get to know me. Until they realize that I'm a ball of rainbows and unicorns. It's only hilarious if people know how kind I truly am.

But another issue has occurred to me as of late. Namely my name. Leonard's been dealing with this for a while. Over half the people in his life, including close friends & family, refer to him by his middle name: Joe (Joseph). Every time he starts over, starts at a new job or a new theatre, he has to decide what to go by.

But with my unique name, I find myself in a quandary. In the past I had it down. Pronounce the Mai like Mai Tai. Spelled like Email, but with the e at the end. Rhymes with Smiley, yes, it does fit, doesn't it, ha ha. Now though, I have a simple yet sincere question.

In this post Miley Cyrus world, what is the easiest way for me to introduce myself?

The blog that was two days in the making

Let's start with the simple piece of information, then cover how this changes so many of our plans.

WE GOT AN APARTMENT!!!

On Wednesday Leonard made it his mission to find us a place to live. I sent him craigslist listing after craigslist listing, filtering through so he only had to deal with ones that were pet friendly and within our budget. All my work was in vain it seems, because a few panic attacks later, Leonard found an apartment through another method.

Student housing.

He'd looked into student housing when he was first accepted to San Francisco State, the pricing for a one bedroom was over our budget. Long story short, yesterday he learned that was the price for a delux one bedroom. The standard one bedroom falls well into our budget.

Amazing, right?

Here's the hiccup. It's available on January 13th.

But we already gave our notice for our current apartment. I asked to start at my new job on January 9th.

Here's where it gets interesting.

Current landlord says no problem. We can stay an extra two weeks. My transfer request hadn't been processed yet, so while my general manager was apologetic, I was thrilled. I requested to start at the end of January. This also frees me up to work with my old job at the Fancy Foods show.

It fell into place surprisingly well.

I'm really excited about student housing. I'm excited to live among people who are academically minded, and to have neighbors who will (hopefully) want to know us. It's on the sixth floor, with a view.



So the bad news is we're here two weeks longer. The good news is, we're here two weeks longer!

And we have a place to live. A kind of awesome place to live.

Did I mention it's a one bedroom? And within our budget?

The goodbyes are quicker now

I expected to feel more.

It’s my last day at my day job. I haven’t worked here long, maybe six months, but the staff warmed up to me easily. This I think has less to do with my sunny personality and more to do with the fact that it’s a new company. Sure everyone had seniority on me, but in some cases it was only three weeks. I was an important part of the system within weeks, and my voice was always welcome.

Maybe it’s because this isn’t goodbye, not yet. The holiday party is on Thursday. I’m facebook friends with the bulk of my peers, and I’ll be working with the company in a few short weeks at the Fancy Foods Show. Maybe it’s the result of last night’s stress caused insomnia.

Or maybe it’s because Claire and I are already saying goodbye the only way that we know how; publicly and through the written word.

Two weeks ago, we moved into this new office space. I said goodbye to my own office and moved into a temporary shared office. I said goodbye to the dirty warehouse, and moved into a warm, welcoming building.

I knew from the get-go that this was a temporary situation. Not just this office, but the job as a whole. I knew Leonard was applying up North, and I knew that I wanted to start a new life. I had no reason to start working here other than that little voice in my head saying give it a try,

What did this job bring me, aside from a lovely resume booster and day after day with my BFF? Simple: this job reminded me that I have a lot to offer. That there's more to me than meets the eye, and that my creativity is a gift.

How is it already over?

A Reply of Sorts

Today my best friend posted a heartbreaking blog about how she's going to miss me. And as I cry through this entry, I tell myself I have to be strong. I have to get through the next twelve days.

Twelve days.

But here's the thing Claire. Anyone who has heard you sing knows that you put me (and the rest of the world) to shame with your voice. But this sappy blogging thing? That's my job. You can be sad, and sappy, and bring tears to my eyes all you want. But at the end of the day, we both know the truth. You're pushing me to be better.

Because you believe in me. Even when I'm so scared, you believe in me.

What's even more petrifying is that you're not alone in this. So many of my dear friends and family are telling me that things are going to be wonderful for me. That Leonard and I will find a fabulous home, that we'll have so much fun, that we belong up there. That you'll miss me, but that you're so SO happy for me.

Because the truth, the gut wrenching truth is that I'm terrified.

I didn't have a lot of friends growing up. This isn't a secret to most. Until you met me Claire I didn't have a lot to offer. Then somehow I took the stage in a bit role, and formed relationships that would last a lifetime. I moved from theatre to theatre, and collected more people along the way. For every person I lost, two more took their place. And while I'm closer to some than others, there's no doubt that I've made some amazing connections.

Friends who want the best for me, even when it means saying goodbye. Friends who find a way to spend time with me, even when time and distance stand in our way. Friends who don't understand why I'm so scared. Friends who think so highly of me, that they truly believe I'll find my place in this new city. That the people of San Francisco will see the amazing woman that they believe I am.

I wish that I could believe in myself the way that some of you believe in me.

So thank you Claire, for curing this blogger block. For opening up the flood gates and reminding me that there's so much more going on in my soul. So much that I want to say to you, to others. So many words that I can't form, because once they're spoken that's it. I'm really leaving.

I want to leave. But like Linus, I'm reluctant to part with the security blanket of friendship. Petrified to move away from the women who know me better than I know myself at times.

A shocking realization

I'd meant to post something sappy and sentimental. A tribute to the holiday traditions that I've participated in. A love note to the friends and family who have made my final month memorable. Then I looked at the calender.

We leave in two weeks.

Oh crap.

Two weeks.

We don't have a place to live. I haven't received confirmation that my job is lined up. We're nowhere close to packed. We don't have nearly enough in savings.

Crap, crap, crap.

I'm sure things will work themselves out, I really believe that. Leonard is going up tomorrow, and he's going to find us a place to live while he's there. I'll be shocked if my transfer request doesn't go through. Packing won't take two full weeks.

But seriously, where did the time go?

Very Important Issues

Every couple has that subject where they just agree to disagree; the issue that can never be resolved. For some it’s politics. Others, religion. Others still might argue over their sports team loyalties, or whether they use a Mac or PC. Leonard and I don’t have those issues. Our political and religious views are similar enough, we use the electronics we can afford, and I’m the only sports fan in our household. No, our disagreement is a bit different than those.

Pizza.

Some of the issues we’ve managed to come to terms with. Sure he’d prefer meat pizza, and my all-time favorite is a simple extra cheese pizza, but we have a variety of toppings that we agree on. And if the price is right, we’re not above getting personalized pizzas and enjoying leftovers for a few days. But there’s one issue we cannot agree on, one area where neither of us will give in.

Who has the best pizza in Orange County?

Believe it or not, we manage to agree on quite a few aspects of this issue. We like the same style of pizza; served in a cardboard box, crust thicker than New York, but thinner than Chicago. We even agree on the city with the best pizza, down to the zip code. 92626. Some of you will know that zip code immediately, and will already be thinking of your favorite pizza in Costa Mesa. And some of you, particularly my family members, will agree with me.

Nick’s.

This was the pizza of my childhood. Back then it was a little hole in the wall, barely worth mentioning except for the fact that the pizza tasting a-freaking-mazing. I was a kid, I didn’t appreciate how good it was. Then I went back as an adult. Now it’s a “Restorante Italiano” with a full menu of Italian treats. I stick with the pizza.

On Friday night, Leonard and I split a mushroom and garlic pizza.

I don’t want to say goodbye to this pizza. I want it tonight. I want it this weekend. I want to kick myself for all the nights I deferred to Leonard, and allowed him to pick the pizzeria.

Like I said, we don’t disagree completely. I agree that his favorite pizza is delicious, and he quite enjoys Nick’s.

But seriously? Will San Francisco pizza compare?

It's sure going to be fun finding out!

(pictured below - our actual pizza from Friday night)