Unemployed, Ashamed, and Disheartened

Even if you are one of the happiest people full of hope and generally optimistic about life, searching for a job can be painful, depressing and down right soul sucking. Especially when it takes longer than you expect to find that new job. 

I have found that one of the most difficult things to handle is the uncertainty of everything. I don't know when this search is ever going to end! Granted I am extremely fortunate to be living at home with my husband (who is employed full time thankfully) and his parents so I'm not constantly stressing about how to pay rent/mortgage, etc.  But what kills me is I don't know how hiring managers are reacting to my cv, do they just plain hate it? Am I really not good enough? Is it because I'm American? What is it!!! 

Rejections are so disheartening:

So I recall reading that the average job posting gets 300+ applications.  So essentially I'm competing against 299 other people for the same position. We've all been to school, done the training and are now all desperately vying for the same jobs. I know that rejection is all part of the process and eventually I am going to get an email that isn't a rejection but its is difficult to not feel bad about myself when I get rejection after rejection.

There is also this constant feeling of being unwanted.  Job = acceptance, acceptance = wanted, wanted = valuable.  If your offered a job, it means that there are people out there that say "hey, your talented and we want you to be part of this company because we think that you are great".  If no one is offering you a job what does that mean? 

I've also found that I feel ashamed for being unemployed. Family and friends ask me how work is going and I instantly put my head down and murmur that I' still looking. They give the usual response of "something will come along", "have you thought about just taking any old job", "keep trying", "have you applied to very many".  Its embarrassing!  There are times when I don't want to visit family or friends because I don't want to have to explain that I'm still an unemployed loser.  

Looking for a job is a full time job, I spend on average 9 hours a day (five sometimes six days a week) combing job sites, writing out cover letters and customising my cv to match the job description.  So to work 40+ hours a week and see nothing positive come from it for months on end (i.e.a job) its is disheartening and wearing me down.  I have gone from a confident museum professional with years of experience ready to tackle the next project to someone that is wondering if she's even good enough to work at McDonalds. 

Happy Halloween!?!?

I suppose as an American I just grew up thinking of Halloween just like any other holiday, one that is celebrated with family and traditions. Pumpkin carving, cookie making, and time spent together.

Where I grew up people started getting excited about Halloween by no later than October 1.  Decorations were put up, and candy started to get stockpiled in anticipation for the hordes of trick or treaters that were guaranteed to knock on your door.  I always anxiously awaited for the day my mum said it was ok to carve the pumpkin.  Scooping out its guts and saving the seeds to be roasted with salt later that evening.  I would carve eyes, a nose and mouth in my pumpkin. Sometimes making it a silly face and other times giving it a vampire like grin.

As a child of the late 80s/early 90's there was nothing more exciting than the prospect of a bag full of candy and no amount of scaring was going to keep us away.  Growing up in a small town I knew all the best houses to score the most coveted treats.  The enormous brick house at the end of the road that gave out king size candy bars to the first 25 trick or treaters (but you couldn't go before 6pm), the house that created a scary maze in the back yard that had full size candy bars for those brave enough to venture thru the terrifying tunnels of straw with monsters waiting to jump out.  The two houses that gave out homemade popcorn balls, and the house that invited you in for hot chocolate and chili to warm you up before you continued on your way.  No one worried about being kidnapped, or slipped a razor blade in their treats.  It was a night of glowing pumpkins and magic.

Every year my brother and I would start the day off at my aunts house where we decorated Halloween cookies, after it was back to my grandmothers house where we had dinner and then changed into our costumes.  When we were very young my aunt or uncle took us out trick or treating but as we got older we went on our own.  I remember my grandmother, mum and aunts always dressing up and taking turns answering the the door as child after child knocked on the door.  My gram bought bags upon bags of candy and had bowls ready and lined up for the hundreds of children that would knock on the door.  It was a night of magic and memories.

As  I got older and no longer young enough to trick or treat, the responsibility of taking my cousins out to all those houses became my responsibility and joy.  Taking them to the houses I had gone to a child and seeing the joy on their faces when they got the king sized candy bar, the popcorn ball, and all the other halloween treats.  It didn't come without its perks, as the homes we went to were the same I had visited as a child as they always insisted a take a piece for myself as well. 

Living here in the UK for the first time in 2008 I realise that Halloween isn't celebrated like it is in the US.  In fact at the time there was hardly a mention of Halloween.  Something I found incredibly strange as Halloween got its start here over 2,000 years ago with the Celts and the celebration of Samhain.  As a uni student we celebrated halloween the way all students do, with a party.  My second year living here I went back to my roots, carving a pumpkin to place in the window and buying a few bags of candy in hopes of trick or treaters knocking on the door. I turned on the porch light and waited for the first knock.  No one came and I realised that my love of Halloween was not transcontinental.

Here I am living in the UK again 7 years later and I do see a change.  Halloween costumes at Asda, adverts on the t.v. about getting ready for your Halloween gathering, and pumpkins available for carving. There are even events in London to celebrate the holiday.  But living with a family of Brits its just not something they celebrate and so I didn't either this year.  No cookies in the shape of pumpkins, bats and ghosts, no carved pumpkin, no decorations on the door or in the windows, no candy for the trick or treaters that might knock.  Its just a day like any other.

I've told myself all weekend long that Halloween didn't matter, its just a silly holiday and my little traditions won't be missed by me or anyone else. But sitting on the sofa this afternoon watching an old Halloween episode of the Goldberg's I realised that it mattered to me.  I'd grown up with Halloween being a time of family and friends.  Bobbing for apples, cake walks, gold fish ponds, candy, I love all of it, and I miss it.

So Happy Halloween where ever you are! 🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Happy Diwali!

My first Diwali as the newest member of my family was one that I shall remember for all of my days.  For days the house had been filled with the aroma of simmering dal, pertha, chole, and various other dishes (mum had been cooking for 3 days straight!). The evening of our celebration (Diwali was on Thursday, but because of my husbands work schedule we celebrated on Friday) we turned on all the lights, lit candles in the windows, and gathered together for puja.  After which we gathered at the table and began our feast, as you can see from the photo there was a lot of food and all of it was amazing. We talked and laughed and ate until we were stuffed.  What an amazing experience it was and I look forward to celebrating Diwali every year to come.

Nostrovia!!!

Nostrovia!!! For those of you who don't speak Polish, that means Cheers!!! I used this word many a time over while in Krosno Poland this past weekend in the celebration of my dear friends Eshan and Sylwia's wedding.  Vodka, food and dancing were in mass amounts and if you left hungry or full of energy clearly you didn't celebrate properly.  The Polish people love their vodka, but I think they love their food even more. From the moment we sat down as Dwa Cerca until we left there was an endless supply of food.  Soups, potatoes dishes, meat dishes, more potatoes, more meat, it just went on and on. And all of it lovely. Well I say that but there were two dishes I found questionable, the first being a jellied meat and veg dish, and the second a fish fillet (herring I think or mackerel) wrapped around some sort of shredded cabbage or apple and covered in a bright orange sauce.  Neither dish appealed to me, but I did try pretty much everything else.  In between dishes of food and shots of vodka we danced, oh did we dance! Then of course we returned to our chairs out of breath and with tired feet to start the round again.  Food, drink, dance, repeat, food, drink, dance, repeat! Nostrovia!!!

Mendi, Mathai and Marriage, Oh My!!!

As a newly married woman there are many things I am still learning. Yesterday I learned about and  experienced my first Karva Chauth which is celebrated by married women in Northern India.  Women fast from sunrise to moonrise for the safety and longevity of their husbands.  The day varies from year to year as the festival falls on the fourth day after the full moon in the month of Kartik in the Hindu calendar.  What a wonderful day it was and it was made all the more special by my mother in law, aunties and cousins all there.  I have to admit waking up at 3:20 in the morning to get ready to leave the house for 4 in the morning was not easy.  Breakfast (called sargi on this day) has to be finished before sunrise and no more food or drink can be had until after the evening ceremony.  It consisted of flat breads (which starts with a P but I can't spell it, pronti is how it sounds), gobi aloo and chutney, and then finished with 7 different fruits and 7 different mithai.  After breakfast we sat around the table chatting, and then one of my cousins got out the henna cones and we did mendhi on our hands.

 After, mum and I headed to Wembley for a bit of shopping.  We also stopped to see her sister (my Massi) before getting dressed up for the evening ceremony.

We got back to Hounslow and everyone else who was fasting started as arriving as well.  Once everyone was there we did a few photos and then prepared for the next ceremony.

We all sat on the floor and listened to the story of Karva Chauth (←click to hear the story) with our puja thalis in front of us ready to begin the ceremony.

We then listened to the Karva Chauth song and passed our thalis around 7 times as the song indicated.

For the final ceremony we looked through a sieve at the moon and offered it water (from our thalis) and a bit of mithai, we then ourselves drank the water and had mithai breaking our fast.  After that it was time to eat. The men were very kind and let us ladies eat first.  The food was simple and so delicious. 

 

My mother in law, aunties, and cousins made the day so very special and I felt so lucky to take part in this tradition.  Next week is Diwali which I am also looking forward to celebrating for the first time. I have married into an amazing family with wonderful traditions that I am learning and incorporating into my own life.  Next month I get to introduce them to the American tradition of Thanksgiving, but I might be nice and not make them watch American football, but they have to eat the pumpkin pie! Lol! 

Oh Give Me A Home.....

Idaho: mountains, trees, cowboy boots, and big breakfasts.  This was everything I wanted my UK family to experience while there, and for the most part they did.  Sudheer and I had a wonderful time at our reception, we were able to see loads of family and friends and our two families finally got to meet! On the Sunday my family hosted a bbq in my childhood park and we at elk, moose and deer until we were about to burst, then we topped off with apple crumble, peach cobbler, and black forest cake (s'mores were also available). All in all it was a great experience but time passed to quickly and the goodbyes were teary.  We didn't actually say goodbye to anyone, instead we left everyone with a see you later and an invitation to visit us in London.  It is my hope that they do visit.  

The Final Count Down....

In less than a week my husband (still seems strange using that word) and I will be packing our bags and flying together for the first time since a family holiday to Italy in 2015.  This trip takes us back to Idaho for three main things:
1. get my stuff shipped over here
2. Have a second reception so we can celebrate our wedding with the rest of the family that didn't come to the wedding (only 3 family members were able to make it, my mum and two cousins) and
3. Show my new family what Idaho is all about.
Its going to be a busy 7 days!!! Friends to catch up with, people to introduce my husband to, finalise everything for the move and the reception.  I have my suspicions I'm going to come back and need a holiday from my holiday! I should also mention that this weekend we are also going away to Bath for a pre-birthday get away. My birthday is at the end of the month.  
So long story short I'm taking a bunch of Londoners to little Pocatello Idaho and hoping for the best. Fresh air, wide open spaces, mountains, trees, and driving on the right side of the road oh the things that make Idaho great!  And while I am looking forward to heading back to my old stomping grounds I am slightly leery of what my two families will think of each other.  Its like Cal-Ranch meets Harrods.  Its going to be interesting, both sides will probably find the other side strange but with any luck they will blend into one happy family. If not at least its only for a weekend of reception and bbq's and with food involved I think I can manage to keep both sides happy.

Self Reliance, Family, and Missing Pieces

If your like me you've been self reliant for a loooooong time!  I've also always been the one who makes sure everyone else is ok. Growing up I took care of my great grandmother (Nana) what started out as me spending the weekend with Nana when I was 7 turned to spending the week with her and weekends with my Mum until by the time I was 10 I was living with Nana full time and my Mum would visit us once a month or so.  I became the one my Nana relied on to buy groceries, run errands, and help with the upkeep of the house. I suppose you  could say I grew up quickly. By the time I was 11 weekends changed from sleepovers with friends to staying close to home in case she needed me. I didn't mind though. Truth be told I relied on her as much as she relied on me.  Nana always knew how to mend the physical and emotional hurt, she was the one I turned to the day my best friend committed suicide.

Spending time with my great grandmother was amazing. My love of Japanese culture came from her.  She had a curio cabinet (which I inherited) full of little Japanese treasures. I remember as a child her allowing me to open the cabinet and play with those wonderful treasures.  I was always so careful to make sure I didn't drop, break, or otherwise inflict harm to those trinkets which she held so dear. My play mostly comprised of having the Japanese figurines walk over the ceramic bridge.

It was also from my Nana that I gained a love of England.  I remember on a family holiday to Washington we went to the ocean and my Nana telling me that if I looked really hard I could see the shores of England.  I didn't have the heart to tell her we were standing on the wrong coast and even if we were on the correct coast it was too far away. But I stood with her and looked out over the water imagining I could see the British coast and the land of our ancestors.  Nana was named Esperance after the ship that brought her parents over from the motherland.  She always wanted to go the England, but never had the chance. With her passing (I was 14) I made it my goal to one day visit England for her.  I made my first trip here in 2007 in her honour.  I still remember stepping off the plane at Heathrow Airport and whispering "I did it Nana, I'm in England", tears rolling down my cheeks I made my way to immigration.

Living here in London I have to wonder what Nana would think of England. The hustle and bustle of the city, crowds of people rushing to and from work, even bigger crowds of tourists taking in the sights.  I imagine if she were alive today she would want to see Buckingham Palace and Tower Bridge.  She wouldn't want to the take Underground, she'd prefer a black cab. We would have tea with scones and clotted cream and she would tell me the stories her parents told her of England. We'd window shop at Selfridges and try on hats in a fancy hat shop. We'd travel outside of London and see Windsor Castle, Stonehenge, and go to the seaside where we would site and have proper fish and chips.

Life isn't the same without her around and even though she has been gone for 25 years I still miss her everyday, but I hope she looks in on me from time to time and is proud of the person I have become.

I See the Sea!

The sea is a magical place.  The salt in the air, seagulls flying overhead, the sound of the crashing waves.  If I close my eyes I can almost smell that salty sea air and feel the mist on my face. 

Earlier in the week my husband surprised me with an afternoon trip to Brighton. We got the train and in less than an hour we were there.  We had lunch at Wahaca a lovely Mexican restaurant and then made our way down towards the pier. Walking down the hill, I couldn't help but suddenly turn to my husband and say "I see the sea!!!" excitedly. He laughed and told me that as a child it was always a game to see who saw the sea first when they all traveled together to the coast.  

I was so excited to finally be at the seaside again, my last venture to a British beach had been in 2010 to the sandy shores of Margate.  

Brighton is a different kind of beach, its rocky and the day we were there extremely windy.  I had worn a dress, something I had thought would be fine as I was told to dress summery.  After the first 3 near Marilyn Monroe moments I quickly rummaged around in my handbag and pulled out a 10p coin and an elastic; quickly MacGyvering my dress into a onesie. It wasn't pretty but it did the trick and I was no longer constantly worrying about showing the world the colour of my knickers.  

Clothing crisis adverted I was free to enjoy the beauty of the sea. We walked along the pier taking in the sites and then decided to have a walk down to the rocky beach.

I will always believe that the ocean has healing properties, it speaks to me.  I genuinely feel that I need periodic trips to the seaside so that I can put my feet in that cold salt water and let the ebb and flow of the water draw out all the negativity, fears, and doubts that are clouding my mind.  Standing in the tide I let the water pour over my toes rising up to my knees and absorb its strength while letting its calming caress soothe my soul.

After I sat on the rocky beach letting my legs dry and watching the waves crash onto the shore.  Side by side my husband and I sat in silence taking in the beauty of the ocean, a bright blue sky overhead, wind whipping the sea into a frenzy of waves.  It was a perfect afternoon. We sat there until it was time to catch the train home. Stopping at the pier we got a bag of churros to share and sat on a step to eat and talk.  It could not have been a more perfect day.  I hope we visit the seaside again soon.  Next time I'll wear something more beach appropriate and we've already agreed we'll have chips on the beach.

Deja Vu?!?

In three days I will have been married five months! Wow where did the time go? Still riding high on the coat tails of wedding bliss, in a month and one day we will be leaving our home in Addiscombe (suburb of Croydon - borough of London) for the mountains, trees and wide open spaces of Idaho for our wedding reception vol.2.
Hold up! Wait just a minute! Wedding Reception?!?
You might staring at your screen thinking to yourself "but you were married five months ago didn't you have a reception then? Or are you just greedy and want to be the centre attention all over again?!?" For those of you who know my husband and I you know that neither of us enjoy being the centre of attention. I am the epitome of a wallflower. I find a corner and blend into it like a ninja, its my skill.  Obviously on our wedding day we were all smiles and so busy with ceremonies, pictures, etc I didn't even have a chance to find a corner to blend into. Though truth be told wearing a big white dress makes it difficult to blend haha!  So back to the wedding reception part 2.  On our blessed day I had five people from Idaho with me my mum, cousins Kaitie and Talon, best friend Annette, and Poky mum Lynn. The rest of my family (there are a lot of them) didn't have passports or funding to attend.  So we are packing up and having a celebration with all the family and friends I left back home in Idaho.
And while it seems like all fun and games, with a second celebration comes all the wedding stresses I left behind five months ago. Budgets, organising food, accommodation for people not local and the idea that I'm bringing a family from London (used to the London lifestyle (Grandparent, In-laws, Aunts, Uncles, and Cousins) to the rural life of Idaho where big shopping means a trip to the local Wal-mart.  I know everyone is excited that the prospect of seeing mountains, a trip to Yellowstone and of course the celebration of Sudheer and I tying the knot, but I have to wonder is everyone going to be bored with the Idaho way of life?  Anyone who has been to the UK especially London knows that life here is just different, its fast paced and you pretty much have the world at your finger tips.  I still haven't fully adjusted and I've lived here for six months.
To top it off I am also finally organising the shipping of all my belongings from Idaho to the UK. EIN numbers, insurance, packing lists, oh the endless fun.
All I can is, I hope the reception will go well and everyone will get along. Hopefully my dress will fit and I can figure out how to do my makeup by myself. The food won't be what the UK family is used to (we had a full meal including drinks and hors d'oeuvres, but those from Idaho will know what to expect (cake, punch, and nibbles) but hopefully everyone just enjoys being together.

The Humble Potato

I'm from Idaho so I know a thing or two about potatoes. My grandfather was a foreman of a farm for decades, where they grew potatoes.  I joke with my new family here in the UK that potatoes run through my veins and I need at least a weekly intake so I don't die! (A bit melodramatic I know.)
Growing up, potatoes were served at least once a day in our household.  Mostly because my mother and aunt who worked at a potato warehouse received a free 10 lbs bag of potatoes each payday.  So we had 20 lbs of potatoes to use every 2 weeks.  Thanks to my mothers ingenuity and the constant supply of potatoes even in the tough times we didn't go hungry.  Maybe got a bit bored with the diet of potatoes and bologna but there was always at least one meal on the table each day.  Bless my mother and her amazing ability to turn the potato into a million different things. Sure we had the usual: baked, fried, and mashed.  But when the pantry allowed she unleashed her creativity and we had things like colcannon, potato soup (Nana's secret recipe), potato au gratin, scalloped potatoes, potato bread, gnocchi, potato hash, potato pancakes made from leftover baked potatoes, and more. My mother's potato repertoire was endless.  She kept us alive on potatoes, and even though I've probably eaten my weight in potatoes at least 100 times over I still love them.
It wasn't just my household that revolved around potatoes, my grandparents were very much meat and potatoes people.  Of course being a foreman of a potato farm leads

to a lot of free potatoes so my grandmother put all those potatoes to good use. I remember many a meal at my gram's house consisting of meat, fried potatoes, and a side of veg and I loved it every time.  When I stayed with my great grandmother to keep her company and look after her the potato diet continued, my favourite of hers being hash browns and potato soup.  She made the most wonderful hash browns. Golden and crispy on the outside and soft and fluffy inside. Never clumpy or greasy, just potato perfection.  My Nana's potato soup will forever be my absolute favourite of all time and nothing compares to it. It is also a guarded secret family recipe.  I remember when Nana and I would do our monthly shopping trip to the local Kmart we would almost always stop into the cafe for lunch and I would always have the same thing, mashed potatoes and gravy.  So you can see that my love of the potato is deeply rooted.
Lucky for me I moved to another country where the potato also plays a big role.  Enter the British potato, lovely baked ((known as a jacket potato here) with filling such as baked beans and cheese, coronation chicken,  tikka masala, and on it goes), roasted potatoes so crispy on the outside and deliciously soft and fluffy inside served with Sunday roast, the occasional mashed, but on the top of the list is the chip.  Oh the chip shop chip! The fact that there is something even called a chip shop (aka chippy) should tell you something. British chips are; well; they are amazing!!! If your American, take everything you think you know about the chip (known there as a french fry) and toss it out the window.  I'm not talking about McDonald's, Wendy's, or any of those fast food versions that sell over processed, mashed potatoes formed to look like a stick, I'm talking about real potatoes cut fresh and fried.  Back home there are only two places that I know of that have a fighting chance against the British chip; Five Guys and Tastee Treat. Both delicious, but there is just something about the British chip.  Not overly greasy, perfectly crispy on the outside, fluffy inside, scooped onto a piece of paper sprinkled with salt and wrapped tightly.  You can also get them in a paper cone of chips with a wooden fork and eat them then and there.  One of my favourite treats is fish and chips from our local chippy. Due to allergies I get my fish grilled rather than deep fried but come on lets face it, the meal is mostly about the chips.
I've been craving chips for nearly a week now and I'm fairly certain I'm going to cave soon (especially after writing this post). Luckily I had potatoes last night in the form of gobi aloo so I have some potatoes coursing though my veins and I'm not at risk from potato withdrawals for the next 48 to 72 hours.