Product of My Environment

I moonlight as Lady Gaga's stylist, as you may have guessed ------->
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I was talking to an unemployed friend last night, and he said that he'd do anything to be working again. I would say that I remember that feeling, but I think if you know me you know that's not true.

In fact, I was recently waxing poetic about my days of leisure. Sure, there was stress about rent and bills, but I am working now and I still have that stress. Now I just have other things to stress about, like...

- When do I have time to drop off my dry cleaning?
- How can I move my car for alternate side before work when I am already late?
- When can I possibly catch up on episodes of Cake Boss when I am not getting home until 8:30pm?

I like my new gig- but I work hard. I am in at 9am, and I don't leave until about 6:45pm on average. I don't take lunch. Every minute of my day is filled with work- the days fly by, which is nice, but at the same time... holy shit. I get home, I eat dinner, I get ready for bed and then it's bedtime, and I am doing it all again. It reminds me of something...



Please, don't worry-- we all know I can't afford cocaine. Though it sure would make me skinny.

It's not that I am complaining. I just think that maybe we should completely overhaul the work culture in the United States. Maybe I was born in the wrong era-- maybe I should have been Don Draper's dowdy copywriting assistant, in at 9, out by 5, drinking bourbons and chain smoking Luckys in between. Why can't we go back to that?

Maybe it's my town. This week, the Daily News reported that New Yorkers are more stressed out than other Americans. I can sort of see why, between the shitty trains(that were rated an enthusiastic C as opposed to last year's C- by riders), ridiculous rents, and, of course, the scourge of the century, who wouldn't be stressed? What's so great about this stupid city anyway?

Or maybe it's just me. I tend to throw myself into my work-- I try to BECOME the thing I write about. If it's fashion or beauty, suddenly I am upping the ante on my shopping. If it's food, I am hungry. Very hungry.

When I was unemployed, I became your typical unemployed person. I hit the gym, I relaxed, I laughed off the idea of the "Sunday Night Blues." I went out on a Tuesday night because I could.

I guess the thing I am realizing is that I adapt to my environment, but not just that, I adapt to the WORST parts of my environment. I pick up all the vices everywhere I go-- never the good traits. Maybe I should work at Forbes, or some kind of budget magazine. If I worked at Oprah, maybe I'd end up saving the world. But more than likely, I'd just badmouth beef farmers, yo-yo diet and start saying Umm Hmmm a lot.

Things You Need When You're Funemployed

It's tough out there-- don't let the "falling unemployment claims" that our slick-haired politicians are touting fool you. What that means is that people are timing out of their unemployment benefits-- they've been unemployed so long that they're not able to claim any more. Look at me- I've been out of work 10.5 months already. Tempus fugit- or in my case, tempus fukkit--that's Latin for "time fucks you over." Americans everywhere are still losing their jobs-- but don't worry. When your boss drags to you HR kicking and screaming to hand you that delicate pink slip that's simultaneously the key to your personal freedom and your financial dependency, there's only one thing you can do. Ok- fine--AFTER you have a drink. Or ten. Whatever- I get it, do that first, and then get ready to do The Second Thing: consult my list of the must-have items that are essential for your pending unemployment.

Take it from me, someone who has been there and is, in fact, still there: it can be traumatic, and you kind of forget everything the HR people tell you on your way out the door, so it's best to have someone recap. And that's why I am here. And also, I know much more than they do about the real essentials of unemployment.

Not going to lose your job? Lucky you. But you can still help your unemployed friends out by getting them items on the list. And buy them a drink, you cheap, employed a-hole.

Things You Need When You're Funemployed

1. This website: https://ui.labor.state.ny.us/UBC/home.do

2. A notebook to write down jobs leads, phone numbers and important health insurance mumbo jumbo. Keep it solely dedicated to your job search, so you know where EVERYTHING is. I recommend stealing it from your former employer on the way out the door. They owe you. (*Addendum: If you can, SOME might recommend also hawking tape, a stapler, folders, scissors, a 3-hole punch and a lable-maker. But I can't say for sure that I am the one recommending that. Or that's what my lawyers told me.)

3. Cable TV, or access to the Maury Povich Show

4. Rich friends who offer free dinner

5. A bathing suit and SPF, if it's May-September

6. Wireless internet- job searching without it is a horrific nightmare from which you might never wake

7. Gift certificates for manicures and pedicures. No one should have to choose.

8. A gym membership. On days when we feel like sleeping in has lost its luster, it's good to go, work out and feel productive, and like we actually earned our afternoon nap.

9. Coupon cards for your local supermarket. Never signed up for your Pathmark card? Get it. And for those of you who go to Trader Joe's and Whole Foods... you better sign up for a Pathmark card, too. Couture grocery shopping is a luxury of the community of the gainfully employed- of which you are no longer a member.

10. An account on the networking site of your choice. No, not Facebook you tool-friend me, by the way, if you didn't already!- I am talking about LinkedIn or whatever you use in your specific industry.

11. A social plan: you'll be surprised at just how quickly you get isolated without a job to go to every day. Who will you discuss the latest episode of Gossip Girl with, if not your cube-neighbor? Ah, I miss you Annie an Derrica. Join a club, make a friend, volunteer- you need things to keep you actively speaking.

12. A Facebook profile. It fills the void of actual human interaction when the "social plan" falls apart.

13. Comfortable lounge clothes that can also double as outside clothes. I recommend yoga pants and have three pairs- my workout yoga pants, my lounge yoga pants and my dress-up yoga pants.

14. A sad voice. Use it to call your cable and phone company, explain that you've lost your job and that you need your bill reduced. I got Time Warner to reduce mine by $60 a month AND give me free Showtime, just because I tried. They're just waiting for your call. Oh, and for you to threaten to switch to Fios.

15. Friends. There are lots of ups and downs, emotionally and financially... you'll be fine one minute and the next you'll realize that you can't afford a cup of coffee.

At the end of the day, you just have to remember that this is temporary. And it's an opportunity. I am back in school and changing careers-- that never would have happened if I was still making bank. Now, I am painfully poor and happy. I slept til noon today! and now I am going to work out and do some homework for class, then go meet some friends. There is opportunity here. And if you can't fight it, you might as well enjoy it until it's over. Right?

Oh. You Again.

The thing about being unemployed is that you spend most of your time figuring out how to be un-unemployed, and then you’re so busy that suddenly you’re busier than a one-legged man in an ass kicking race, and everyone in your life starts saying things like:

“How are you so busy? You’re unemployed.”

And:

“What ever happened to that blog of yours?”

I think honestly that there are two reasons I haven’t written. The first is that I am, by nature, a self-saboteur. I found this blog to be an outlet, I received positive feedback and thus… I had to stop working on it. Why wait to fail when you can speed up the process?

Secondly, I have been engaged in said ass-kicking contest. The real thrill of being unemployed is not the freedom to watch paternity test after paternity test on Maury Povich, or to nap when it rains or loll about reading the classics on your stoop as spring makes it’s long-awaited debut. No—the real excitement is the adreneline rush that comes with the very real fear that the bottom is about to fall out.

Since I last blogged, I’ve been hustling. Not real pimp-and-ho hustling, and not pool shark hustling- but I’ve been moving. I’ve been, frankly, trying to make money and sock it away so that I don’t end up homeless. A silly fear, maybe- but not completely implausible. In the meantime I am working towards a future: I am back in school, studying to get certified to teach. High school English. Can you imagine? AND I took on a freelance position two days a week, and I get to feel employed for a little while. On the days I am not there, I am substitute teaching, where I live in fear that every day the kids will catch on that a.) I am clueless and b.) they outnumber me.

So now that I’ve gotten this “Where have you BEEN?” blog posting out of the way, let’s get back to the fun stuff, shall we?

The Choice is Yours.

When you lose your job, you're suddenly faced with a lot of choices. Some are bigger, more existential ones, such as "Why am I here?" "What should I do with my life?" "What's the greater lesson in all of this?"

Those are a few that I try not to ask myself too often- but in the dark, as I try to shuttle off to dreamland, there they are--hiding in my bed and farting under the covers. They were there before I lost my job, when I was working and feeling unfulfilled, struggling with tough bosses or stressful deadlines or writer's block or difficult clients-- or all of those things at once.

The questions that really get to me though, are the ones I never used to have to ask myself.

"If I save all of my money for the next two weeks, skip lunch every other day and clip coupons, should I use that money I can scrimp together to get myself a manicure OR a pedicure?"

"This Christmas, should I buy a Christmas tree, or should I save that money so that I can afford to buy gifts and put them where the tree would normally be?"

"Should I go to the doctor, or hope this sickness works itself out?"

"Can I afford a Metrocard this week, or should I just risk arrest and go under the turnstyle?"

Not exactly "Sophie's Choice," true. But the things I never had to wonder before, the choices I never had to make- that's what trips me up. I have to stop and think now about things that used to be automatic, no-brainer responses to simple, everyday conundrums. The more simple they were before, the more heartbreaking they are now.

Do I sound spoiled? That I get weepy over the fact that I can't afford a $17 (plus tip!) mani/pedi combo? Maybe. But as the holidays approach, the choices I have to make become more and more glaring. My family has agreed to not exchange gifts, but of course we'll buy for my niece and nephew. I scour the catalogs and find the perfect items for each of them-- for my musically gifted nephew James, I consider an instrument that I know he'll love. But I can't afford it. And so I just think about how much I want to give it to him, and I get a little sadder.

I've been through this before, of course. Not the last time I was unemployed, in 2001- when I was still waving around my various credit cards like they were the American flag. I went through it when I paid off my debt- when I made homemade gifts for my family, when I shopped sales and saved money and did everything I could to not let my financial dire straights and my $700 a month debt payment bring me down. There were lessons there, for sure. I got myself in that mess, I got myself out. But this time I did everything I was supposed to do. I worked hard. I stayed late. I did my best. And I lost my job anyway. My financial insecurity isn't because I overspent- it's because this is just the way the world is right now.

It's easy to feel resentful. Not towards you,the employed- because you can get a mani/pedi and hey, get your eyebrows waxed while you're at it. But at me: because I didn't save as much as I wanted when I was working, because I took my employment for granted, because I used to be able to not have to think about these things. And because I took that for granted.

As they say, resentment is like drinking poison and waiting for someone else to die. It gets me nowhere to be angry at myself. This isn't my fault, and I am doing the best I can. I once read that life is 10% what happens to us, and 90% how we react to it.

So now I have a new choice to make. Do I get down, do I allow self-pity to run riot through my apartment? Do I get under the blankets with the farty air and feel sad that there are no jobs, that rejection letters fly like confetti into my mailbox?

Or do I just tuck and roll? Muscle through this holiday season and know that this too shall pass, and that one day in the hopefully not-so-distant future, I'll get to look back on Christmas of 2009 and say, you know what, that was a tough one. Not as tough as 2007, not as easy as 2006. It was hard, but I got through it. Not because of what was happening, but because of how I reacted to it: with a positive attitude. With faith that things would turn around. With dignity, with grace, and with hope. That's the choice I want to make today. To live in the positive. To live in hope.

Happy holidays, everyone. I hope that they are merry and bright for you- no matter what you get-- or don't get.

Dress for Success.

On one of my favorite shows,TLC's What Not to Wear, stylist Stacy London often offers this advice to the pathetically dressed make-overees who come to New York to learn the basics of putting on clothes:

"Dress for the job you want, not the job you have."

It seems simple, but it's smart. During my days at Lucky magazine, I followed Stacy's advice and completely reworked my style of dress in the hopes that it would improve my professional standing. Gone were the khakis and cardigans of my early career days: now it was dresses, heels and pencil skirts.

And it worked! I swear that the confidence that dressing well gave me led me to succeed at work. In the two years that I was there, I went from being copy manager to copy director. And I looked cute doing it. Thank you, Stacy London!

Now, as you may have guessed by the name of my blog, I am unemployed. And I think it's safe to say that if I ran into Stacy on the street these days, she'd think I was an aspiring gym coach.

I made this realization about four weeks ago, as I headed off to a cardio class at my gym. That's what we unemployed people do: we wake up, sip coffee, read the paper, teeter around on the internet searching in vain for employment, then head off to the gym in order to maintain some feeling of productivity.

I digress. The weather had turned unseasonably cold, and I scratched my head at what I should wear. My favorite yoga pants had always been my thing before, but now, well-- they were out of the question. Why? Because they were the main- nay only- staple of my unemployed wardrobe. And I didn't want them to get dirty. Because then, what would I wear tomorrow? Lately, it's not about finding the energy to get dressed for success-- it's really just about finding the will to get dressed.

Every day that's dipped below 65 degrees since May 18, you've probably spotted me in my "unemployment ensemble." Black yoga pants, black tank, gray hooded sweatshirt. Flip flops when it's warm enough, sneakers when it's not. Every day, it's what I wear. I go back and forth between pajamas and comfy clothes. I am one polyester floral pattern away from surrendering to the house dress.

My dressing room is a sad retirement home for adorable things. Once I hit my goal weight and paid down my debt, I had set to work creating the style I always envisioned for myself.

It took years. And God- how I miss wearing it all. This afternoon, I was going through my closet looking for underworn things to give my little cousins at Thanksgiving (part of my new holiday tradition, which helps keep my clutter and shopping guilt to a minimum), I realized just how much I have and don't get to wear. The cute black and gray pinstripe dress I wore with my black boots. Oh, my black boots! How sad they look, like un-walked puppies making sad eyes on the closet floor. My wrap around cardigans, my black maryjane heels. Wide belts, sparkly accessories-- it's a cruel world that won't let you accessorize with sweats.

The last time I tried to wear heels, my feet hurt after two hours. They'd forgotten what it felt like to be dressed up, and it was as if they've given up. I can't say I blame them.

One of my best friends, Shanna, has an event company that does amazing work styling weddings, showers, all types of parties (SwoonEvents.com)... and they're hosting a charity "Wear It Again" party in the coming year. Brides will get to wear their wedding dresses one more time, sip cocktails and socialize, all for a good cause.

I'm thinking I should do the same. Invite all of my unemployed friends over and give them a reason to get dressed. Put on a tie and jacket, laid-off financiers; Put on some make-up, out-of-work marketers. Let's get together for some much-missed water-cooler talk about which Biggest Loser got sent home last night, and debate about where we should go to lunch.

Maybe it would make us feel normal again. Give us a reason to get up before noon. Make us feel less like we've got "reject" stamped on our heads. Remind us what a gift it was to feel needed everyday. To feel professionally dignified and respected.

Then again, maybe it wouldn't. Maybe we'd just get blisters on our feet.

Running to Stand Still

Like Billy said, put bread in my jar. Please.

It seems that I may have underestimated the significance of being unemployed.

In four days, I mark four months of unemployment. This time has flown by quickly. Alarmingly quickly. And last night, as I watched the episode of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia titled "Dennis and Dee Go on Welfare" that I realized something very important.(I told you I learn most of my most important lessons from TV here.) What I learned was that, simply put, I am screwed.

Like Dennis and Dee, I saw my lack of employment as a gift- I would collect unemployment and take time to figure out who I really was. I'd use that money to live while I went back to school for-- oh, who knows what! The world was my oyster. I could study to be a teacher, or a social worker, or a lion tamer or even a CSI! I always did love David Caruso, ever since Crime Story. Really, who gets such a great opportunity? To figure out their future and make a fresh start at 33?

The day I lost my job, I had called my family members and assured them, one by one, that I would be fine. I reminded them that the last time I had lost my job (in 2001) I had been in secret but serious credit card debt ($26 large- whut whut!) and that now, as an adult, I had saved as much as I could, had no debt (paid off in just three and a half brutal years all by myself!), and would work to make ends meet and collect unemployment and be FINE. JUST FINE. Then I hung up the phone, started to crap myself, and decided it would be better for everyone if I just didn't think about life for a few weeks.

Four months later, the reality of the situation is undeniable, and even I have to face it-- and I just don't face things. The fact is, you can not live on unemployment money. Those of you who are considering the life of leisure, let me just assure you of that. I can't even afford to buy bon bons to eat while I lay on my couch watching Oprah. After a horrifying budgeting session, I realized that I had more money going out in bills than I had coming in. If I had lost my job last summer, I would have had to pay $500 in health insurance bills a month, but thanks to President Obama I only have to pay $188 while New York magazine foots the bill for the rest. Haters can hate, but Barack did alright by me the day he did that.

It seems that unless starting fresh requires $0, I am in some deep doo-doo.

Recently, I have started taking on odd jobs- A Jackass of All Trades, if you will. Babysitting, gardening, errand running, whatever I can get to earn a dollar. And with those dollars I buy groceries. Store-brand, of course. Gone are the days when I strolled the aisles and picked up a jar of peanut butter without comparing prices-- JIF is for fat cats, and baby I'm just a scrawy, tawny street kitty.

And I am exhausted. I mean- I am just not cut out for hustling, unless it's hustling for the best seat on the couch, or this kind of hustle. I not only underestimated what it meant to be unemployed, it seems I've also underestimated what it means to be old.

Here's the saddest part! Oh, sad clown. Even with all of the hustling, I am still just treading water. I am, as Bono said, running to stand still.

I realize this blog is a bit more of a downer than you usually get from me (um, you did see my 9/11 post, right? This is far more cheery). The truth is though, I just wanted to give you a realistic portrayal of unemployment. It is not as awesome as I make it seem. I am not trying to fool you when I call it funemployment, I am trying to fool me.

So the next time you get annoyed on the N train and think about how the unemployed bums have the best lives ever, just remember that we don't. We sleep all day so that we don't get hungry, because we can't afford to eat! So go to your jobs, work hard, and spend some money so that we can get this economy moving again. And do it fast-- these unemployment checks are only coming for 48 more weeks.

http://www.imdb.com/video/screenplay/vi4159767321/

It's Only a Quarter-Life Crisis If I Live To Be 132.

So. I'm unemployed. You may have guessed.

It would be dumb to say that I didn't see it coming. We are in the worst recession and blah blah blah-- but still, when I got that call from HR and had to walk down that long hallway-- I was in disbelief. Picture that scene in Jerry Maguire, except with more melodramatic acting on my part.

For the last ten years I've been writing advertising copy for great magazines. Great magazines. I can still say that even though I've broken up with some (like Lucky, how I still sometimes regret leaving you when things were finally so good) and some have broken my heart (like Rolling Stone, who laid me off in 2001, and New York, who did the same this past May). And somehow I got really good at it. That may sound ridiculous, but I am fully confident in my abilities as a copywriter. Even as a copy director, which sounds much more fancy. Yet at the same time, I have been waiting patiently for the axe to drop. I've wanted a fresh start, but I never would have done it on my own.

So what now. I'd like to teach, preferably high school English. It's what I have wanted for years now.

But at the same time-- and here's the rub of unemployment-- I've gotten used to not working. That happened on Day 2. As soon as I saw Maury announce that "You are NOT the father," and the sun finally came out so I could go to the beach, I lost any memory of my Working Life. And it's been that way ever since.

I am trying to find ways to make ends meet, but whether I need the mental regrouping or am just freaking lazy I don't know. I cannot motivate to make a move.

Sure-- I have applied to jobs-- jobs that in fact I really want. (I'm talking to YOU, Xaverian and Berkeley Carroll!) But the fact is, I feel like for the first time I have to figure out what I want to do with my life. I realize my peers did this when they were, oh, I don't know, 20... but I think that slow and steady wins the race. If indeed we were racing, but we're clearly not, as you've all already won. Congrats.

People keep telling me they're jealous of my life of "leisure." Jealous? Seriously? Maybe I talk a good game but there's not really leisure associated with not knowing how you're going to pay your cable bill so they won't cut you off from the next episode of True Blood. Still, let me remove any delusions of glamor for you.

Here's what I do everyday. First, I turn my alarm clock off about 6 times. Then I struggle to the kitchen and turn on the coffee. After staring into space while it brews, I contemplate going to the gym, then generally decide against it. I try to think about what I can post on Facebook to make my life sound interesting to the general public. Chances are it's raining, so I am not going to the beach. I check my bank balance and try to right any overdrafts, then actively avoid emails and calls from concerned friends and family members, then have lunch. Turkey. Always turkey. Except when money is really bad-- then it's tuna. After that it's anyone's guess. Maybe I'll go outside, maybe I'll clean my apartment for the umpteenth time (and yes, though I can barely afford to feed myself I can't bring myself to fire the twice-a-month cleaning lady) or maybe I'll try to beat my pathetic high score on Brickbreaker. After that, I kill time until it's an acceptable hour to watch bad TV, an activity so shameful I reserve it for the hours after nightfall.

There's nothing glamorous about unemployment, yet I can't seem do to anything to get myself un-unemployed.

So far, my only recession contingency plan is playing MegaMillions. I have a dollar and a dream. But only one dollar.

If you've got ideas or suggestions on how I should live the rest 30 years of my life, leave them in the comments! Then you'll have officially done more in my job search than I have.