Thursday, January 19, 2006

Bienvenidos a Miami/The Dish Does Dade

I don't feel like sending out a mass e-mail at the moment, so let this serve as a substitute.

My mind has essentially been made up for me. Didn't get this job I've been interviewing for, though truth be told, I suppose I didn't truly want it all that much. It would've been a nonprofit gig, e.g. 70-hour weeks for a paltry salary. No thanks. I think it's fairly evident that I don't necessarily have the mindset to work hard for something if I don't reap a fair amount of rewards. Soo, the thought of putting in horribly long days, getting out of work when it's dark out and then not having time to hangout with friends or do the things I have fun doing, while not earning a decent wage, is just extremely unappealing. The irony is, or not really irony, but humor of the situation is that whilst interviewing for this job, I was basically forced to conceal who I was at core in order to create the impression of who I thought they wanted for this job. I had to dress down. I couldn't wear my normal jewelry. I couldn't carry my favorite handbags. Couldn't wear the typical stilettos. Couldn't wear makeup. Essentially, I had to conceal who I was in order to give off the impression that I wanted/needed this job. Just goes to show you that hiding who you really are, no matter how noble the reasoning behind it, always backfires.

Fuck that shit. I like dressing well. I like wearing nice jewelry. I like being fashionable. I like wearing makeup. I like speaking my mind. I like being honest with myself and with others. I don't like riding the bus. I don't like going above 86th Street. I don't like being subordinate to other people in such a way that forces me to compromise my personality. And I don't like waking up at the ass-crack of dawn when it's sub-zero outside. This job would've required a great deal of cowtowing and diplomacy, and while I can certainly handle lots of different personality types, I probably wouldn't have been able to bite my tongue on an hourly basis. Hell, you can't teach an old dog new tricks.

I actually had to borrow "conservative" clothes from my neighbor to wear to the interview. Knowing myself, if I really wanted to "make it work" up here, I'd find a way, and the fact that I am just not motivated to make it work up here, shows me that I am ready to leave. I'm sick of people asking me what I do and not having a succinct response. Not getting any younger, not in any sort of relationship, not magically getting some fab job that will alter the course of my existence, thus not seeing the point in merely biding my time here anymore. If the fam lived here, I suppose that would be another story. So I plan on pulling up ranks here very soon, hopefully within the next month or so, and heading back to the sunshine state, where life is easy, the weather is good and everyone knows everyone else. I heart NYC and all that, though, in the end, I guess I just don't love it enough to sacrifice standard of living, health, sanity, etc. etc. The truth is that I don't want to be 35, single, weathered, jaded and living in a studio apartment. If I'm going to be single and in my 30s, I'd much rather do it while having an oceanview, a nice car, a business and a family around me.

I think I'll have the opportunity to go into a family biz down in South Florida, and, even though it would mean totally changing careers, I'd much prefer to be a successful businesswoman than a struggling artist. I don't enjoy hardship or struggling. Life is way too short. I'm ready for a challenge that ultimately will be rewarding. At least that's what I'm hoping for. There is the small matter of moving, getting a car, an apartment, saying good-bye to my amazing friends, to Bergdorf's, to 47th Street, to Shun Lee Palace, to furs, to boots, to seasons, to the center of everything, to the media and to walking everywhere. But it's time. I'm ready to be a big fish in a small pond, and, finally understand the rationale of this philosophy. Ready to relax, ready to be an adult, ready to be around my old friends, ready for the beach. I am, not, however, ready to deal with drinking and driving. I wonder if car services are commonplace down there? Kidding. Save the nasty comments.