Home sweet home

As Jim spends the night snoring, I lay awake wondering how many times I have heard the local political ads for Meg Witman and Jerry Brown. It is amazing to me that these two do not have enough sense to stop and think ‘would I like to listen to the same individual, say the same things over and over during every commercial break?’ Then, I stop and laugh at myself.. oh, most people do not watch the mindless reruns of ‘Judge Judy’ and ‘The new adventures of old Christine’ more nights then not.

The job hunt seems endless and helpless. The entire, ‘sit around and wait’ mentality rarely sits well with me. Well, in fact, patience isn’t exactly my strong point. I suppose I get that from my mother. Although I am not sure who would be satisfied just to ‘sit around and wait’, seems to me like you may as well be incarcerated. As I see it, you’re stripping your own freedoms; freedoms to take charge, but I suppose that is the Oprah mentality in me. Maybe I just have this ‘save the day’ attitude, and believe that every one of us can make a difference. Ya know, save the world, one person at a time sort of thing.

I recently interviewed with a local agency here in San Francisco. They do things a little differently, starting with a group interview. My group interview was filled with individuals with amazing and diverse backgrounds. The room seated 10 individuals, myself include. 10 individuals that I assume have the same ‘everyday hero’ sort of attitude.  While speaking to these individuals prior to the HR representative entering, I realized ‘wow, no one in the bay area is from the bay area’. Everyone has a ‘back home’. Everyone had a different story of where they came from, how they got here and a vague idea of where they were going to go from here. This is quite different from my ‘back home’ and quite the confidence booster when you realize you may not be the only individual walking in blind.

The group interview went about as well as expected, and a few days later I received a return phone call asking to schedule me for a second and third interview within the agency. These interviews involved a normal structured interview with the program director, followed by a three hour ‘job shadow’ to ensure the candidate would still be interested in working within the facility.

Thursday I set out on the ‘BART’ in hopes of finding the youth mental health hospital, as to where I was to conduct my interview. Exiting the train at the ‘24th and Mission’ location, I took out my google map instructions and began the real adventure. While digging through my purse, a pigeon landed beside me.  I took one swift look around and realized that I was in a different world. Street vendors covered every square inch of each corner, and the amounts of people screaming at what appeared to be themselves over took any thoughts that were streaming through my mind. I took a deep breath and could not help but smile; home sweet home.

I walked two blocks up, eager to steer clear of ‘Mission Street’, I took a left turn and began walking on 22nd street. The fragrance and spectacular views over took my senses with each passing block. The men who drove around with a burrito truck reminded me of the ‘ ice cream ding ding’ man at home, the scream of people singing and dancing to music as I passed a bar reminded me of the streets of downtown Lincoln after a Husker victory, the smell of the fresh flowers reminded me of the flowers on the bush that Jim’s mom hates so much, and as I stopped to admire the incredible tight squeezed homes, the curve of the windows and the carefully planned coloring of the housing impressed me. And for a brief moment, I imagined myself coming home to one similar some day. Smiling, I continued walking.

I survived what seemed to be an endless 4 hour interview, took the ‘BART’ and once again safely arrived at our small spot in California. Once again, home sweet home.

The most recent 48 hours, I have spent questioning my move; wondering if California is the right place for me. Wondering what I would be doing ‘back home’, the shenanigans I would be getting into, or the memories I am missing out on. I suppose some would categorize me and state that I am going through a stage, something that will pass with time.

But it is funny that people mention ‘time’. Such an easy answer to such difficult questions, as it’s generally the answer that is given when an individual questions a difficult decision. After a bad break up, you are told, ‘oh hunny you just need time’. After a death, ‘only time will heal your pain’. Waiting to hear results from a doctor ‘well it is going to take some time to gather the results’. However, with all this ‘time’ being thrown around, you would think it is something that is guaranteed. Coincidentally, ‘time’ is not guaranteed. Taking time in my opinion, is just a pathetic answer when you cannot think of any other convincing bull shit, or don't have the nerve to speak up regarding what could really make a difference.

Now before you go calling me a hypocrite, I will just admit it. I too will tell people to take some ‘time’; it truly is just the easier answer. However, what I should be saying when you call me about that jerk that broke your heart is ‘well, obviously your relationship didn’t pan out. You are going to cry, you are going to be mad, and you are going to question your decision. You are going to have to put yourself in uncomfortable situations, and talk to people that you don’t know. You are going to need to stop focusing on old memories and start making new ones. There are going to be days that are going to suck, there are going to be days that are great. But while going through all of these emotions, you will build a new life. How long all of that takes is up to you. ‘Time’ will never heal you, time is what you take while working through these emotions, time is what you take while you continue to live your life, or time is what you waste as you remain a sheltered hermit and play the ‘sit around and wait game’.

Now,as previously stated, ‘the sit around and wait ‘mentality is not my style. And to be really honest, if I sit around much longer I am liable to lose any sanity I have left.

So, funny enough, the same thing I would say to a broken hearted friend, is the same thing I said to myself not too many hours ago. So as I continue to explore the streets of San Francisco, I will continue to allow myself to accept that this as well, will not take time. San Francisco is my home, my new home. This transition will take perseverance, strength, the ability to break boundaries, and a strong belief in myself. Time will not give me these things.

So, once again, cheers San Francisco, thanks for welcoming me, home sweet home. :) 

Cheers

I sit with a blinking cursor and the divine melodies of Zac Brown Band; simply wondering if I have the structure or dedication to complete what may seem like a simple blog message. Laughing at myself, I am curious as to see where this, like San Francisco may take me. If anything else it fills up empty time and may in the future be something to look back on and reflect.

So, with inspiration from Ms. Mackenzie Berg; here it goes. A week ago I boarded a plane, headed to Boston nonetheless and began this whir wind of a journey. I sat at the Lincoln airport, having just said a ‘see you later’ to two of the most recent important people in my life. That sentence in and of its self makes me laugh, but also always seems to put a tear in my eye.

Good-bye-  appears to be such a simple word. However the greater context of its message is much more complicated. The days leading up to my departure were what seemed like endless minutes of agony, confusion, anger and yet, somehow, happiness.

I ran out of my parents house, giving my brother a simple ‘I’m leaving Sean’ not giving him enough time to come out of his bedroom to give me a ‘proper goodbye’. The simple thought of ‘walking out’ on this man, who I have watched grow, was simply, too much. So, I ran out of the door, got in the car and drove away from the house, leaving 52^nd street as nothing but a memory.

I attempted to picture my last week in Nebraska. I imagined the places I would go; and all of the people I needed to see. However, like life; nothing seemed to go ‘as planned’.  Errands ran long, good-byes ran short, and of course, the unexpected occurred. Emotions that I simply did not anticipate came rushing through me and for that, I was not prepared for. So, I bottle what is necessary, boarded the plane and officially began my journey.

I landed in Boston, after two layovers, one change in airlines, two hours of sleep with my trusty bottle of water. I sat and waited for Jim to pick me up from the airport. Finally, I hear this ‘heeey’, followed by a heart wrenching hug. Jim and I were back together at last. Attempting to put my emotions aside, I welcomed his kiss and picked up my luggage.

The next 72 hours were indescribable. Exploring Boston I simply put aside my emotions; I stopped processing that I was moving to San Francisco. Monday came and I once again found myself boarding a plane. Destination: San Francisco, California.

Many laugh when I tell them I was tempted to buy a parachute and jump out once we were flying over ‘the good life’. However, it is amazing what your mind will propose when your whole life is about to change and you can hardly control your emotions.

All resistance aside, I boarded that plane. The second I snapped that seat belt, it was official. I was moving to California. Moving to do what? I suppose an outsider may say ‘the possibilities are endless’, ‘you’ll love it’, ‘there is so much to do there’; outside of those being popular with Hallmark, I was hardly impressed.

As harsh as it may seem, I was moving to fulfill Jim’s dreams. I was moving to keep my relationship with Jim; a relationship that is significant and has sincerely changed my life. With all that said, it did not make moving to California without my own purpose any easier.

I was physically removed from the streets I have watched being built, the people I have watched grow, the life that I have made and the place I was proud to call home. I was thrown on Alemany Blvd, San Francisco; an address that means nothing, to a city that has absolutely no significance to me. Nothing except for this relationship that I have deemed ‘worthy’ of such sacrifice.

So, now what? Well, here begins the journey. I have wondered onto the ‘BART’ station, walked the hills of the neighborhood, landed in what my mother would call ‘the hood’, unpacked boxes, experienced organic flaxseed chips and spent a lot of time thinking; a lot of collecting and gathering within myself, which was not originally anticipated.

I have streamed the internet for potential employment opportunities, interest groups, photography, classes, unpacked boxes, listened to endless amounts of ZBB, cried on the couch with Putzi, all while trying to be the ‘supportive girlfriend’.

Now, while all of the above paragraphs may seems as though it is all ‘poor Renee’ or ‘you stupid broad, you didn’t have to leave Nebraska, why don’t you stop complaining’. I think it is important for you to realize that I, myself have also thought all of these things. I suppose, if nothing else it is important for me to reflect on such feelings. Corny right? However, Oprah is on to something- feel your emotions, and express yourself in ways that are comfortable.

I miss ‘home’, I miss the smell of Nebraska air, I miss the quite of 59^th street, I miss the crisis of my clients phone calls, I miss the comfort of ‘cube 82’, I miss the petty arguments with my brother, I miss the atmosphere of Husker Saturday’s, I miss the neon, and I miss the smile of my close friends and family.

However, I am here. 3981 Alemany Blvd, San Francisco California; welcome home Renee. Of course not each moment has been difficult, I am optimistic that this journey will in fact bring Hallmark’s ‘new adventures’ to my life. I can honestly say that I am excited. And of course, I am thankful. Thankful for the support I have received and for the wonderful individual that I get to experience San Francisco with.

So, here’s to you San Francisco, ‘Cheers’.