changing your name is hard

Everything about changing your name is hard.  It's emotionally hard, letting go of an old name and taking a new one, which means a little bit of letting go of an old identity and taking a new one.  It's physically hard, especially if you have to get discriminated against in the process.  But it's also just logistically hard -- sometimes even impossible. 

There's the social security card, then the passport, and the diver's license, and work, and the bank, etc.  But yesterday I encountered a particularly surprising difficulty when I tried to change the email address associated with the blog.  Not being Erin R. anymore, I tried to switch my log-in credentials over to my shiny new Erin H. email address.... only to discover that it was impossible.  You just can't do it.  So, through several backbends and contortions and a lot of signing out and back in, I finally managed to add my new email, even if the old one is still lingering, attached to the account.  Which hits on one of the weird things about changing your name.

In a lot of ways, you become a whole new person, with all your history wiped out.  I don't have my email history, I don't have any history on blogger (although you can see from my profile that I reserved my new email address shortly after getting engaged, way back in February).  In almost every way, it seems like Erin R. has to get erased for Erin H. to spring into existance.

And so.  If there is a bit of funkiness during the transition, where I appear to be two different people at the same time, rest assured it is not just you.  I actually am two different people at the same time. 

(Erin R.)

(Erin H.)

finding our feet - part I

Kathy and I went to Oregon early in this month to celebrate the domestic partnership of two dear friends.  It was a long weekend full of wine drinking, celebrating, and lying around drinking coffee re-hashing the events of the night before.  Basically, it was like college, only in college it was Jack Daniels Downhome Punch or Old Milwaukee instead of wine.  The weekend was fabulous.

What was slightly less fabulous was diving into the workweek on Tuesday with two suitcases full of dirty clothes, a dirty house, and no groceries.  How could I have forgotten this horrible fact of being a dual-income family?  Without your weekend, no chores get done!  You start the workweek about 10 hours behind, and then frantically paddle, trying to not only keep your head above water, but actually make forward progress so you can get back on track. 

Each morning was a mad rush, packed with convincing the kids that three-week old bread with American cheese on it was a delicious and nutritious lunch and that those jeans aren't that dirty; in fact, jeans are designed to be worn more than once without washing!  Each evening was a load of laundry, a cobbled-together dinner made of things purchased at Sam's Club and stuck in the freezer when I wasn't working, and sorting through stacks of mail and other papers, trying to make sure no utilities were shut off in the meantime.  And then I had a business day-trip on Friday, so I had to leave the house at 6 am.

first days

Last Thursday, I started at my new law firm.  The first day, as can be expected, consisted mostly of training and orientation activities.  Afterward, there was a cocktail party -- which apparently happens relatively regularly.  By the end of a four our technology training, I was dying to go home, but I felt like I should go to the cocktail party -- especially since it was my first day. 

Diary of an Expat: The Holidays Abroad

When I made the decision to live abroad, I knew that it would mean giving up some of the things I love. I also knew it would mean missing things that my friends and family got to experience together. But I'm not sure anything could have prepared me for my first Thanksgiving out of the US.

Thanksgiving has long been my favorite holiday. It is all the warmth of seeing family, a fantastic meal and a few days off from work without the added pressure of having to buy the perfect gift for every relative, friend and acquantaince while baking copious amounts of cookies and making sure your house looks perfect. Christmas dropped way down on my list of favorite holidays (to dead last) once my brother and sister left for college and there was no one to share the anticipation with. It's begun to climb back up, but really nothing will ever compare with Thanksgiving. Last year was my first Thanksgiving without any of my family around. I thought it would be hard, but I have a fantastic network of friends in New York who celebrated not only US Thanksgiving with me, but also Canadian Thanksgiving (who knew you can have the excuse to cook a turkey and GBC - green bean casserole, in case you didn't know - in October and November?!).

Canadian Thanksgiving Spread

resolved

As I mentioned last year, I'm big on New Year's Resolutions (with a capital R).  This year it was a bit tougher than last year to come up with concrete resolutions.  I suppose this is because I am not as intensely unhappy as I was last year.  So, before we get to this year's resolutions, let's take a look back at 2011 (last year's resolution post is here).

1.  Try to see changes as beginnings rather than endings.  This was kind of vague, I now realize in retrospect, which means it's a "bad" resolution.  Did I accomplish it?  I dunno.  I have, however, become more comfortable with change, and more comfortable in my own skin, as I move through changes.  So success?  I guess so.

2.  Start a new career (or a new job).  Um, can you half-succeed at a resolution?  I did, in fact, manage to leave the law firm last year.  That was hard, and liberating, and identity-changing.  But here I sit, in my kitchen in a sweatshirt, drinking coffee at 9:30 am.  So it seems that I haven't gotten the new job off the ground yet.   That said, I made significant progress on figuring out who I am if not a Biglaw associate, and learning what I want out of my career/job.

Tuesday I met with a head-hunter in the city, who assured me that finding a job would not be the difficult thing; finding a job that I want will be the difficult thing.  But there has been huge progress on this front, as far as I am concerned.

If all else fails, I can go with C's approach.  He said to me the other day, "Why are you trying to find a job?  You already HAVE a job."  He meant that he, himself, was my job.  Point taken.

Diary of an Expat: An Affair with London

I decided to give it up. I've spent the past few weeks whining to everyone I could about how much I miss New York. At one point, I even said to Joe [my husband] that I loved New York like a person (which, technically, is still true). But I decided when feeling especially bad for myself that it would be a pretty miserable couple of years if I just kept thinking about what I didn't have. I decided this while I was jogging, which is when I make a lot of crucial decisions (and have conversations with people in my head that will never take place, and dream about lives I'll never live, etc.). I continued my jog with a renewed sense of purpose - trying to absorb everything around me. I smelled the fall air, which is something I've somehow gone almost the entire fall without noticing. I organised my new apartment (which I just moved into this past week) and remembered how good it felt to have familiar things around, even if I was putting them away in brand new places. I went out shopping and there were Christmas carollers in the store - seriously, in eveningwear just singing out loud for everyone on the escalators to hear. Where else do you find something like that other than London? (I realize it can probably be found in many places, but that's not the point.)

Logo designed by Milton Glaser, who designed one of my other favorite logos for the Brooklyn Brewery

the weight is over

Yes, that was on purpose.  I do love a good pun.

Today, I leave for San Diego to visit my parents for my dad's 60th birthday.  My grandparents, who are approximately 9 million years old, will be there, and I don't get to see them very often.  Not to mention my parents, who I haven't seen since last Christmas.  And a surprise guest, which not even my mother knows about, because of how she ruins surprises on a regular basis.  I was wholly excited about this trip, until my mother said those three little words to me.  Bring. Your. Swimsuit.

blogiversary

A year ago, I started this blog.  I can't actually believe that I've been writing, somewhat regularly, for twelve months now.  When I started this blog, it was about the writing.  Now that I've been writing it for a year, I feel like the writing truly has been the most important part.  Some days, the words flow like water.  Some days, I sit and stare at a blank white box, then finally sigh and write something that bores even me.  But still, for a year, I write. 

Kathy was telling me recently about a study that she read about.  There has been some chirping in recent years about adolescent brain development.  It seems that the decision-making part of the brain is not fully formed in adolescence, and as a result, adolescents are more likely to take unreasonable risks, and more likely to fail to appreciate the long-term effects of their actions.  Ask any parent of a teenager, and this is called making crappy choices.  The study that Kathy read about, though, suggests that this is (no surprise here) an important evolutionary tool.  When being a teenager meant leaving home and the safety of your parents, striking out into the world, perhaps it would not be such a bad thing if you were incapable of fully appreciating all the long term consequences of your actions.

I guess it's too bad, then, that as adults, we can't at least selectively tap into this kicked-out-of-the-nest stage of brain development.  Change is inevitable, so wouldn't it be nice if we could face it with, if not always courage, at least a certain amount of irreverence, and just make the change.  Sometimes, the specific change you make is less important than just making a change, any change.

Diary of an Expat: What?

Hi everyone! As Erin introduced me, I am her sister, Joy. If Erin is taupe and lime, I am probably more like raw umber and magenta. We have many similarities, but for every similarity, there are hundreds of differences. So, maybe you will read something similar to what Erin writes and like me for that, or maybe you will read something different and appreciate that perspective. Or, maybe you will grumble to yourself every time you see one of my guest blogs and secretly wish I would be done living in London and guest blogging. Anyhow, for those of you who don't fit into the last group, I hope that I entertain you and make you think a little. Now for me to get to the point.

A picture I took of the lovely London Eye on one of my first weekends here

I moved to London almost four weeks ago. In this time, I have tried to explore every neighbourhood that I might want to live in (I'm in temporary housing for the time being), eat new and traditionally British things and befriend everyone I could at work. I've been having fun so far, peppered with longings for my tiny Lower East Side apartment, my amazing friends in New York and stores that are actually open at hours convenient for someone who has a job.

born again

If all change is a "little death," there is also a little birth.  It being Spring, and given my New Year's Resolution (number one) that seems appropriate.  A piece of us dies, but a new piece also comes into existence.  And that is why, today, on the day that I gave notice at work, I think I feel so light and so happy.

(via)

To be honest, I expected to have feelings more associated with the death.  I expected fear, and yes, some grief.  Instead, I felt feelings I associate more with birth (like joy, and relief -- although I suppose that feeling could accompany either transition).  There was a little fear as I walked into the office of the Director of Attorney HR, and again as I walked in to speak with one of the co-chairs of my department, a woman I have a lot of respect for.  I have spent weeks agonizing with Kathy over the right way to say what I wanted to say, the way to spin it that would burn the fewest bridges and maintain these relationships, in case I change my mind and want to come back.  In the end, what won out was the simple truth.  I simply told them the Plan.

marinade

This morning, I made a marinade for the pork loins we'll be having for dinner.  It consists of this:

3/4 white onion, chopped
1 tsp black pepper
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp Allspice
1/2 tsp ground thyme
1 tsp sugar
1 Tbsp Worcestershire sauce
1Tbsp water
2Tbsp vegetable oil
Dash hot red pepper flakes

I blended it all up with my immersion blender until it was a disgusting paste, and spread it over the meat, which I then covered and put back in the fridge for the day.  Kathy's going to brush it off with a pastry brush before grilling it tonight.  This is what it looks like now:

I'll let you know how it goes.

I've been home from work for a few days, sick.  I'm going to go into the office later this afternoon, then try to resume normal life.  The time off sick has given me time to consider what it is I'm going to do with my life, given this post from last week.  After thinking, and researching, and talking with Kathy, I think I've actually come up with a plan. 

A Room of One's Own

But, you may say, we asked you to speak about women and fiction -

what has that got to do with a room of one's own ?

Today, via The Happiness Project, I learned about a blog called Quiet: the power of introverts in a world that can't stop talking, written by a woman who wrote a book with the same title.  Given how much time I spend thinking about what it means to be an introvert (since, actually, I have only kind of recently realized I am one), I was drawn to it.  I think one of the great truths about change is that in order for a change to feel right, you have to make sure you are not struggling against your own nature.  Hence, the thinking about being an introvert. 

One post I found particularly interesting and relevant is entitled 5 Tips for Finding Work You Love.  The tips are (in a nutshell, and as applied to me specifically):

1.  Pay attention to what you envy.  I do not tend to envy other lawyers, unless I happen to come across a lawyer working part time.  I am envious of friends that I have from college who have jobs involving books.  Reading them, writing them, writing about them, editing them. 

happy new year

Well, I have been a bit remiss about posting.  I guess that technically, I have kept my promise to myself, because I mentally committed to posting to this blog every workday.  And with maybe one exception, I have.  So I didn't post last week because I didn't work last week.  But I have been missing it, and I'm back at work, so here I am.  With a really, really long post.

(I struggled to find a Baby New Year/Father Time picture that wasn't creepy,

to symbolize how I tend to view the new year.  This is where it would have

gone, had I been successful.  Instead, I chose this generic, but glittery, picture from here.)

It's a new year, which means it's New Year's resolution time.  Can we talk about that, please?  I am a resolution-maker.  I am constantly making resolutions.  I'm a big self-improver.  I think it stems from the fact that I am naturally an introspective/introverted person.  It makes sense, right?  If you spend a lot of time on your own, thinking about things, you become more aware of your Self (or at least, you spend a lot of time thinking about your self).  If you are more aware of your Self, you tend to dwell on the things that you wish were different, or the things that would make you happier.  Hence, the self-improvement urge.  Maybe it is not this way for everyone who is a loner by nature.  But it is the case for me.  So I have some New Year's resolutions.

the winter of my discontent

(via MSNBC's photo blog.)

A while ago, the NYT published this article about 20-somethings, and how none of us know what the hell we are doing with our lives, other than moving back in with our parents.  When I was studying for the bar and going through my divorce, I did just that.  I think this article resonated with me, because it so accurately described what me and many of my friends are going through. 

This article describes the 20s as a period of "identity exploration, instability, self-focus, feeling in-between and a rather poetic characteristic [reasearchers call] 'a sense of possibilities.'"  Perhaps.  But this "sense of possibilities" has a darker side too.  I, and my sister, and others I know, might call it "fear."  In the article, the researchers describe feelings of "dread, frustration, uncertainty, a sense of not quite understanding the rules of the game. More than positive or negative feelings, what [researchers] heard most often was ambivalence."  As we struggle with our identities, trying to figure out what to do with our lives, many of us are hopeful, but we are also afraid.  I know that I am.  Afraid of getting stuck in something I don't like, but also afraid of never finding something I do.  Or growing tired of something that once energized me.  I feel like every week I have a new career that I want to embark on.  I'm not lazy.  It's not that I don't want to do anything.  It's that I want to do everything.  Maybe this is the "sense of possibilities."

just like a picture print by Currier and Ives. really.

  (Picture by Currier and Ives.  Who apparently believe in child labor. 

Our kids would never go just cut Christmas trees down by themselves.)

Kathy and I went to visit her family in California for Thanksgiving.  On the way there, we were both so excited to see everyone, and go to her uncle's almond farm in the central valley for the turkey eating part.  We also had plans to hang out with our friends in Berkeley Saturday night, go into San Francisco on Sunday, before flying home Monday.  As an ex-East Bayer, I was super excited to be on my old stomping ground with my old friends (as in they were my friends when I lived in the Bay area, not that they are old).  The kids were excited to see grandma.  But then, the thing that always happens, happened.

cheers

:-)

Thank you, Meg, once again.  While strolling through your archives, I came across the observation that "you really don't want to write a negative blog, as you will get a negative readership, and that's a heck of a lot of energy to put into creating more negativity in the world."  What a nice reminder.  So.  Here's to trying to take all of the things I would ordinarily just complain about, and make them into a positive inspire-change type thought. 

By the way.  I know everyone is sick of emoticons.  But I love them!  Especially the smiling ones.  So there! :-) (see how that emoticon tranformed the "so there" from nasty to kind of teasing?)

* * *

Update, 11/3/10:  I found another smart lady talking about the same thing (toward the end of the post she talks about positivity and blogging specifically).  How great is that?

identity crisis

So, today I changed the name of the blog.  I actually wasn't sure what to call it when I first put it up, but I wanted to put it up and had to write something.  So for the last three days, I  have been pondering and rejecting various names, and kept coming back to this one.  But, I feel like taupe and lime needs a little explanation.  It all starts here:

(from the website for Anne Wheeler's movie)

Page one

This is the first page of the journal. Every time I make the well-intentioned gesture of buying myself a journal, I stare at the blank first page for a very long time. I often can't write on it. Usually what ends up happening is that I turn the page and start the journal on page 2. I don't think that this is uncommon. But on a blog, it turns out, there is no page 2 to start on, you have to start on page 1. I didn't really think of that when I decided to take the leap and start this blog. Especially since it is, for now, one of those no-topic-general-musing-on-life blogs, which I can't imagine anyone other than my own self, and maybe my girlfriend, reading.

But. I am tired of feeling as though I am stuck in a job I don't like (a lawyer for a New York City Biglaw firm), with no shot at having the job I want (a writer, who works from home). I'm tired of feeling like, for a myriad of reasons, my life is stuck. I'm tired of feeling like happiness is one step away, just out of reach. Then, yesterday, Meg over at A Practical Wedding wrote something quite lovely and jolting about the bravery of facing rejection that has been rattling around in my head since I read it. And so, I am going to attempt to focus on the nearness of dreams, rather than the distance. I will write, even if no one but my own self and, occasionally, my girlfriend reads it.