Tag Archives: unemployed

It’s Not Good-Bye. It’s See You in the Next Life.

Ladies and Gentlemen,

I found employment. In New York City.

To say that I have mixed feelings about leaving LA is an understatement. After I decided to take the offer, I cried at least 3 times a day and didn’t sleep for a week. And then I had to pick myself up the ground and downsize my walk-in closet wardrobe (perhaps the most tear-inducing part).

Believe me — I know that I am leaving one terrible dating scene for an arguably worse one. But I didn’t take this job to find Prince Charming in the dungeon kingdom that is New York City. I took this job because it was a great career opportunity and it seemed like the right time to take a chance and go on a new adventure.

This new adventure will end the chapter known as LAMatchbook. But hey – you never know – maybe I’ll find inspiration and create NYMatchbook. Lord knows there are plenty of douchebags in NYC; they are just dressed better.

Thank you all for your support. It has been such a fun journey to share my LA dating fiascos with all of you.

This is not Good-Bye. I’ll see you in the Next Life.




30 Before 30.

The sad reality is that I turn 30 in a few days.

I never really had a vision for myself at 30, much less at 40 or 50 or 90. I just wanted to be healthy, happy, and employed in a challenging job. Thus far, I have succeeded at 1 out of 3.

A good friend of mine turned 30 one month before I do and I was really impressed by a list she made in her late 20s, which catalogued 30 things to achieve before 30. Around age 28, I thought that I should write one for myself. But somehow I never got around to it, which is probably very indicative of my very nature.

Recently, upon the harsh realization that I could no longer deny that 30 is almost here, I catalogued what it was that I did get around to in my 20s. It turns out that I did okay. And you know what, okay is good enough for now. Here goes:

  1. Eat a meal alone. I actually now love walking to a bar in a restaurant, ordering a glass of wine, and enjoying a meal on my own. I have business travel and unemployment to thank for this. And guess what — you meet a lot of interesting people this way.
  2. Go to the movies alone. Again, unemployment really got me out of my shell for going to the movies alone. How else was I supposed to spend a hot Tuesday spring afternoon in LA?
  3. Fix a clogged toilet. I lived with my parents for 3 years in my mid-twenties (hey, it was the recession…) and the house’s plumbing was out of the 1930s. So I had to constantly call my dad for advice on how to plunge the toilet. At age 29, alone in said house on a getaway weekend, the toilet clogged. And for the first time ever, I fixed it by myself. It was the most triumphant Friday  night I had in years.
  4. Learn what you want to do in a job and what you don’t want to do in a job. Want to know why I’m still unemployed? Because I said no to 3 jobs I knew were going to make me miserable all over again. It’s fiscally stupid but morally responsible to all parties involved.
  5. Love.
  6. Learn to take criticism.
  7. Save money. The only reason I’m surviving on California’s unemployment payments is because I saved so much in my 20s. I have a family who welcomed me in to save on rent which I recognize is a unique situation but there are still little ways to save money. I religiously read resources like Learnvest and The Muse which have great tips.
  8. Try and fail. I tried and I failed at many, many things. And I’m stronger for it.
  9. Smiling despite all odds. Trying doing it during your darkest hours — it really helps.
  10. Travel the world.
  11. Learn how to cook basic meals. I have unemployment to thank for turning me into a banana bread-baking Martha Stewart. My waistline is not as thankful.
  12. Just say yes.
  13. I know the difference between a Phillips screwdriver and a slot screwdriver. Do you?
  14. Have hope.
  15. Find good people. Surround yourself with them. LA is full of phonies but even I found the few gems in the rough.
  16. Kill bugs in your house. I actually got over this phobia at age 8 going to camp in Wisconsin but it’s an important thing to learn to deal with, ladies.
  17. Recognize that you’re only 30. The sky is the limit.

I certainly didn’t make it to 30 accomplishments but I can’t help but thank Carrie Bradshaw with leaving some very wise words that speak to all generations: “The most exciting, challenging and significant relationship of all is the one you have with yourself.” I have a feeling that I’m only skimming the surface of that relationship.



That Time I Was Delayed in Silicon Valley.

Recently I flew up to the Silicon Valley area for an interview at a major internet company. LAX’s computer broke down that afternoon so I had no choice but to entertain myself in San Jose airport for 4 hours. Naturally, my first intention was to head to the bar. I learned:

  • I need a portable iPhone charging device. For the woman on the go like I am.
  • Your family wants to hear more often from you than the infrequent times you are delayed in an airport in California (which btw, I have forgotten in my spoiled SoCal life: airport delays are quite frequent in climates that aren’t constantly sunny & 78 degrees).
  • Fun fact: free wifi in the SJC airport! For Tindering engineers and such!
  • There are no cute young men business travelers in San Jose.
  • However, there are an abundant amount of businessmen from your dad’s generation who will have a beer with you and tell you that your generation is screwed in this economy. To which I gamely replied, “I’m aware, unemployed, have a 401k, and am up here for an interview subsequently. And, yes, I have zero hope for my generation. But I don’t think that’s Obama’s fault.” (Cue the crickets; we were near Palo Alto after all.)

The Bar Has Been Set THIS Low.

I called my mother the other day to say hello as it was 2 PM on a Tuesday and I was job-less and bored. She did not ask me about my day or job search and immediately launched into Future Grandson Watch — Day 263. For 15 minutes, I got to hear the disturbing ins and out of my sister’s Braxton Hicks cramps (no, I do not know how to spell that).

For a split second, the younger child in me got upset that no one was paying attention to me and my latest unemployment drama. Then, it hit me: the pressure is off. A.’s sad single and unemployed state is inconsequential in the bigger game of the future grandson’s arrival. For the next 1-5 years, my mother will not ask me about my latest, saddest dates, why I haven’t met anyone nice, and when she’ll become a grandmother. Instead, all my family cares about is:

1) Grandbaby.

2) If I get a job soon.

3) Which family member has to take me in which I inevitably can’t afford my LA lifestyle any longer.

The bar has been set THIS low. And damn — it feels good.

On to the next adventure in unemployed–