Day 19

¡Dios Mio! I'm going to play English teacher on Thursday!

Had an interview this morning and fooled them into thinking I'm one of those people that knows the difference between 'effect' and 'affect'. So much so that at the end of the interview, she asked me if I wanted to substitute teach on Thursday. SI! It's an english as a second language class which means I get hang out with my favorite kind of people. Foreigners! And talk about my least favorite thing. Grammar!

Portugese class paid off.

After the interview, spent the day making pictures of Boston for my photog project till my fingers got too cold. 50 degrees my a$$ Al Roker.

Day 18

I haven't had a full-time job in almost three weeks and it still just feels like a nice long weekend. A busy one. Even without a full-time job I still feel like there aren't enough hours in a day.

Speaking of, I did tons of annoying things today. Like fill out forms and mail things. Call people and wait on hold. Make a little program ad for the wine place in slow motion because I forgot how to use photoshop. Still, all of these things put together were not nearly as annoying as sitting in meetings, listening to people argue about things that don't matter while my boss chews her gum with her mouth open. Like a horse. Like if you gave a horse a giant peanut butter sandwich and just sat there and watched him while he went to town. I don't miss that.

And now, I have to write some resumes for some of my other friends who spend 40+ hours a week in their own openmouthgumchewinghorseyface hell.

Day 17

Two words: bartending class.

Day 16

I'm cross-eyed from staring at my computer for the last 12 hours. Spent the day redoing my portfolio so I can try to get some freelance work in the very industry I'm trying to avoid. Because my new (and future) hobbies aren't going to pay for themselves. And because it's almost summer. And I want some new fun dresses. And I want to go places. And in general, I just like money.

{Catena Alta Cabernet Sauvignon 2005 from Mendoza Argentina. Mama mia!}

Day 15

Good news. Found the umbrella I thought my neighbor stole because he hates me.

Today I had an interview at a super cool restaurant next to the Opera House. A restaurant/gourmet market. I was sold when I saw the 3 foot long noodles and exotic chocolate bars. Don't know if the actual job is the best fit but I almost want to take it just to know the people that work there. And definitely to know the people that live above the restaurant/cafe in the Ritz Carlton Residences.

Worked at the wine shop tonight. One of the regulars teaches Italian classes at the bar next door and is trying to convince me to take his class. Maybe it's time to pick Italian back up in the fall. Any excuse to say allora...

Day 14

If I had a dollar for every f bomb I dropped during the 4 hours I spent on hold with unemployment today, I wouldn't need that government cheese. Hold. Transfer. Hold. Transfer. Hold. Phone dies. Your estimated wait time is 42 minutes. FUCK. Transfer. If I don't come across some permanent employment, I'm gong to need to invest in a speaker phone so I'm not walking around my apartment like a crazy person waiting for a sign of life.

When I wasn't #487 in line on the unemployment hotline, I was being social. Met up with friends from jobs past and jobs way way past. Had my fair share of dirties and trips down memory lane. Happy I've worked at all the places I've worked and met the people I've met. Even more happy to cross paths now and then.

Have an interview tomorrow AM at a new Italian restaurant/artisanal shop. Don't really know what I'm interviewing for. Don't really have anything to lose.

Day 13

I'm learning things! Today we had a special tasting at the wine shop—wines from Umbria. Tuscany's often overlooked neighbor. Paolo Bea—cult favorite—was the star of the night. He produces wine made from the Sangrantino grape. Thick-skinned and rich in tannins, the Sangrantino has evolved to withstand the scorching Umbria temps. For this reason, it's considered a rebel grape in the cellar.

The Bea family has occupied the Montefalco region since the 16th century. Paolo Bea, 72, still believes in doing things the old fashioned way. No modern technology. No pesticides. No herbicides. Bea learned the craft from his father and he passed it on to his own two sons. Giuseppe farms the vineyards. Giampiero assists in the vinification.

"With each passing year, I better understand our land, respecting and caring for it...and at the end of each year extract from it a wine which is totally unique, continually developing, improving, and sustaining our health. Each season is a new discovery, a chance to apply and evaluate knowledge we have gained in previous years." ~Paolo Bea

I just want to love a job as much as Paolo Bea loves his. In the mean time, I'll settle for a glass of Montefalco Rosso.

Day 12

I'm anxious today. Trying to do ten things at once and can't concentrate on any of them. I also feel like going shopping but since I get paid an hourly wage now instead of a salary, I've started to think of everything I buy in terms of how many hours of work it will cost. Which means I need more jobs. I know I have a few months to figure things out but today I woke up feeling like I have to figure everything out right now.

Day 11

I got to meet some winemakers today. Hot ones. Hot French and Spanish winemakers with nice shoes. I went to a giant portfolio tasting at the Seaport Hotel and spit my wine into the same bucket as Boston's finest sommeliers. I circled things in my book. I agreed that you could really taste the oak in the 2005 vintage, that the Ossian was brilliant, and the Montenovo was a bit sentimental. I guess wine has feelings now.

I proposed a campaign idea for the shop. Now we have to figure out the execution part. That was one nice thing about working for an agency. Getting to pass things off.

Got an interview next week to teach ESL at the Boston Center for Adult Education.

Got chocolate chip cookies in the oven.

Day 10

Listening to Beirut. Playing with Photoshop. Making up wine ideas. Making up photography ideas. Not going to bed early. Not dreading Monday. Promising myself I'll never 9-5 again. Ever.

Day 9

Reading. Researching. More reading. More researching. Listening to some new music. Watching some old movies. Being a sponge.

Fooled some customers at the wine tasting last night into thinking I've been spitting out my wine for years. Did NOT fool most. Tried lambrusco for the first time. Where have these glorious red bubbles been all my life?

Day 8

It's Friday and my Fridays now consist of drinking and pouring wine. And long afternoon work outs. Just got back from the gym. Turns out a lot of people don't work between 9 and 5. Who knew?

Reading Rainbow

I've never really read Kafka. I bought the Castle, looked at all the words, spent an embarrassing amount of time on each page, but I could not absorb their meaning. Which was fine with me. In fact I was glad Kafka never finished the novel because the thought of pretending to read another page was too painful to consider.

Then I read Broyard's memoir and I start to feel cheated. How come this Kafka guy didn't change my life! Influence my thought. I blame him of course and not my sub-par intellect.

Aside from making me greedy, Anatole Broyard's memoir made me hungry for Greenwich Village circa 1940's. Circa anytime actually. I liked his sentences. I understood all the words. I'll probably even remember some of them for a long time.

I knew I liked Greenwich Village but I didn't know why until now. The neighborhood has met a lot of dreamers. Heard a lot of crazy ideas. Witnessed a lot of stories unfold, like Broyards. You feel it when you're there but it's always nice to know the juicy details.

Day 7 (part deux)

I swallowed. How was I supposed to know you're supposed to spit? I thought they only did that in the movies. A few wine salesmen later, the owner recommended I start spitting. I told her it's too soon, I can't just spit in front of strangers. By the time the last salesman came by, I had jello arms, so I did it. I spit. It was weird. I swirled it around in the glass. I shoved my nose inside. Inhaled deeply. Swished it around in my mouth. Spit. Tried to taste the oak, fruit and bacon my coworkers spoke of. And tried not to laugh.

I worked with Matteo today. His swish is powerful and loud. He spoke perfect English but I didn't understand a word he said. I feel like I need a travel dictionary to understand what everyone is saying. And I like it.

Day 7

I'm the proud owner of a new part-time job. Probably the first of many, but I can't imagine anything topping this one. Let the games begin.

Reading Rainbow

I went to a book signing right smack in the middle of the day. Never heard of the book. Or the author. But since dream job #847 is to write and photograph a coffee table book, I figured I should go. For research.

When my friend told me the signing was for a woman who wrote a cookbook about decadent cooking for one, I envisioned a dumpy friendless blue hair. But Suzanne Pirret is a svelte diva of sorts with a Harvard education, London digs, and a subtle yet noticeable chip on her shoulder.

I bought her book. Not because I plan on whipping up Grilled Spatchcocked Spiced Quail for dinner tonight. Or ever. But because homegirl had a point-of-view and did a semi-decent job at illustrating it. Yeah she's kind of a poser. Yeah she's trying too hard. But maybe there's something in this book I can learn from. Even if it's what not to do.

Like, don't use some cheesy ass typeface on the cover of your book. DO wear a super hot dress.

Day 6

The only thing I know about wine is I like to drink it. And it gives me jello arms.

48 hours after sending out that wishful batch of resumes, I may have found AND landed The Perfect Job. I mean it. You're going to be jealous.

I used to walk past a tiny wine shop every morning on my way to work and every evening on my way home. Twice a day, I was gently reminded that for some, work and play were not mutually exclusive.

It seemed like each time I walked by, rosy-cheeked people were crowding the window, laughing even! I secretly wished I worked there. Okay-not so secretly. I would whine to my co-workers daily about how I wanted to be the one with a buzz on a Tuesday afternoon slinging grape juice in that cramped enchanting hole-in-the-wall.

I met with the owner today. A Yale biology grad who fell into wine almost as serendipitously as I may be. She's looking for someone to help her with the creative aspect of the business. Getting new people in the store. Coming up with cool events. Telling the stories behind each bottle in interesting ways. Making the tiny shop something bigger.

I am too excited for words.

Getting laid off is like the get-out-of-jail free card I've been waiting for.

Tonight, I have a conference call with my two best friends to figure out how to make another dream into a reality.

Day 5

I sent resumes to 8 establishments between last night and this AM. Based soley on their cuteness. And fun-ness. I suppose my next batch will go to places that are actually hiring.

I'm also on my 4th glass of water. Only 4 more to go. Now that I don't have to write sales aids for knee cartilage implantation or novel cardiac biomarkers, I can focus on more important things. Like hydration.

And take one of those middle-of-the-day pilates classes like those fancy soccer moms.

Unemployment is healthy. It's like detox.

Even this guy says so.

Day 4

I have a date with the unemployment office this Thursday. What should I wear??

In other news, I made some new lists:

Places that I've always wanted to work. Places I don't really want to work but will pursue, in case all else fails. Things I need to do to make sure Project All Else does not fail.

Before I tackle my portfolio, I must tackle the non-advertising resume. Just in case Cafe Vanille wants to hire me. Or my corner bar. Or that little gourmet market in Harvard Square.

And before I tackle my resume, I'm signing up for French classes. In case someone in Paris wants to swap apartments. It could happen.

Day 3

Ok. I'm going to start the photography business I meant to start 4 or 5 times already. But for real this time. I mean it. My livelihood officially depends on it.

All I need is a name. A couple vendors. A tax ID. CS3. A website. And people who want to buy what I'm selling.

Day 2

Stay or go. Stay or go. Stay here? Or go somewhere new?

Day 1

Nope. It wasn't all a dream. I'm officially untrapped, unfrustrated, unbooked, unbored and unemployed. I'm a stay-at-home mother of none. And I have a lot to do: Open a bottle of wine. List my apartment for an international house swap. Do some research about teaching English in another country. Fill up my glass. Make a list of jobs I've always wanted to try. Rethink my Netflix queue. E-mail some people, tell them I'm back on the market. Organize my bookshelf, start reading the books I've been meaning to read. Make some more lists. Drink some more wine. Try beets.

"I'm very sorry, but I have to lay all of you off."

Today might be the best day ever. But it's too early to tell.