tomfromhr.com a blog on tech, politics, life and zombies

19Mar/142

A Late Winter Update

It’s been a crazy 2014 so far for me. Good crazy, but crazy.

It’s mostly been difficult, really. Work has been stressful. I’ve been doing a lot of traveling, without really realizing what that does to a person. I still get fascinated by planes, and I still have a bit of a love of airports. But I think the travel does take its toll. My Mom flew with me last weekend to Chicago and she said at the end “I don’t know how you do this!”. It was a bit of a reminder that, as much as it may not feel like much sometimes, it can be tiring. Getting in late. Rushing around at airports. Sitting in less than comfortable plane seats.

Worth it, though, to see Klutzy. Absolutely worth it, and I’d do it every weekend if I could. But I will be glad in May when it’s over. 

Work has been stressful, and I feel like we’re over a bit of a hump, but I worry that may be a false sense of security. A lot of it has been fine-tuning my own work habits, but I feel like I’ve done well at that, like I have a good handle on things. It’s been very educational and a good experience overall, but I know I am ready for the next opportunity. It’s just finding the right one. A recruiter I spoke to recently described the job market like this: Previously, employers would also for a squirrel. The end candidate might be a purple squirrel. Now, they’re asking for a purple squirrel and getting a purple squirrel with polkadots (in this analogy, flashy and garish is better). Basically, it’s a tough market out there, and you really have to find the opportunity where you are the purple squirrel with polkadots. So I’m keeping my eyes open.

A lot of it comes down to willpower for me on job searching. I never want to. I get home and the last thing I want to do is pore over my resume and cover letter. Course, when I do it, it’s not that bad, but it feels like it will be THE WORST THING EVER OMG TOM. I get home and I want to do nothing more than cuddle my cats, relax, game, and sleep. 

However, I’m excited about the next few weeks. Klutzy’s parents are visiting, which means the house has to be perfect (or as close as I can make it) which means a lot of work. Lots of little things really. Move some things around. Unpack other things. Assemble some things. But in the end it means the house will be a lot more put together. I love the touches she’s brought to it, really making it ours, not just mine. And this is a good motivator and, in the end, like most things, this won’t be as bad as my brain makes it out to be.

Plus, it’s my house, so you know I’m going to have Netflix and/or some fun music going throughout.

The wedding is coming together nicely. We’ve already had a few RSVPs and I’m crazy excited for it. We’ve got so many great people coming (not everyone I’d like, of course, cause that would be a fuckton of people) but a lot, which is great. We did the tasting this weekend and picked out some great food. I’m working on my speech and have been sending Klutzy first dance song suggestions pretty well constantly. It changes from day to day. We don’t really have a song that’s “ours” so we’ll have to figure it out.

Honeymoon at DisneyWorld has also been booked. I’m regularly getting all caps gchats from Klutzy about some new thing she’s discovered, a new place she’s reserved, or what have you. We’re there for a week, staying at the Animal Kingdom Lodge, overlooking the Savannah. Well, the fake Savannah, but still! 

I’m a little worried about the let down after the wedding. As much as we’ll be finally together and having fun, the time after any big event like this is always a little sad. But then we work on building our life together here, and, as much as I try to be realistic, I can’t imagine that being exciting and awesome. Challenging, yes, but still.

Well, that’s me, for the most part. What’ve you been up to?

6Mar/142

Brunch is Happiness

Later on, I would think I'd never really had brunch before. Not like this. 

I had been worried about being over-dressed, but the family in shorts and t-shirts assuages the worry regarding my jeans a polo. They lead us to a booth at the back, away from the crowds, though the place is quiet. A waiter in a tuxedo greets us. We smile at him. She orders a cocktail. I differ from the usual and order something different. I regret it later, and order what she had initially as a second round. I'm not driving today.

The brunch menu is sparse, but the steak and eggs needs my attention. I was initially disappointed at the lack of bacon, but that will fade. She orders something with seafood in it that sounded almost good enough for my attention, but not quite. I order a filet mignon and eggs, feeling odd combining the two. 

"I've never actually had steak and eggs before," I mention to her. She's surprised. My hand slips into hers across the table, somewhat awkwardly due to the angle, but necessarily. There are limits to how awkward I can be around her. 

We eat the bread, each piece slightly different. Not enough to fill us, and when our meals come out I am ravenous. The steak fills my nostrils. The hash browns draw my eyes. The Bernaise sauce confuses me. I slice up the steak and dip it into the egg yolks, unsure if I am being uncouth. She reassures me she has no idea, and doesn't care regardless. The lack of waiters rushing to me and slapping my hand reassures me further.

Everything melts in my mouth, in a way that tells me I've never used the phrase properly before. The saltiness of the hash browns offsets the soft, warm, savour of the steak and eggs. I eat every single bite. She steals a piece of crisp toast and dips it into Bernaise sauce. Again, no one comes and slaps her hand, so I think we're in the clean, couthiness-wise.

The waiter takes the empty plates away. My heart and mouth cry out for more, my stomach cries no more. My hand slips into hers again as I sit back. The waiter remarks on how I've never been to this place before, and hands me a plate of key-lime pie, insisting I try it. My stomach reassures me it has room for this. My mouth takes in the pie and I run out of words. I sit there making noises that make her laugh. We order another piece to go. One of us pays, I don't remember who. It doesn't matter. The meal would be worth it at ten times the price.

I sit back quietly as we begin to pack up. I have no words left. My hand slips into hers as we step away from the booth, I feel her ring finger and think to myself there's an emptiness there I absolutely need to fill. If only for introducing me to good, fancy brunch.