Curriculum vitae maestitia

I have the CV blues. I was asked to submit my CV yesterday for an upcoming speaking engagement in South Africa and I was paralyzed with the same fear that has kept me from applying for a more sensible (read: sane) job. What the heck does a normal 28 year old put in a CV? After squeaking out a nonchalant "sure thing", my client pinned me down and pointed out that I promised the same thing a month ago and still have not delivered. So she proceeded to make me swear up and down that it would be in her inbox by the time she woke up in the morning. Which basically gave me about 5 hours. Of course, I put it off for 4 hours and 58 minutes before dashing home extra early (which means around 7 pm), and then proceeded to agonize in front of a blank word document for about 3 minutes.

Ended up watching Lieberman dig himself an early grave at the Republican Convention, then dragged my hubby out to Ann Taylor Loft while I tried on half the store, then to Barnes and Noble... anything was better than writing this blasted document. Then came back home, resigned myself to sitting in front of my accursed laptop- and surfed the internet for a good 2-3 hours before finally gritting my teeth and... yes... pulling up my sad little resume from college. What the heck? All these years have gone by and I'm no better than I was in college?

Looking at my college resume, I looked pretty decent back in the day. Phi Beta Kappa, Cum Laude, memberships in 3 other honor societies including our campus honors program, 5 scholarships including one closely related to the Fulbright... I was doing okay for myself back in the college days. What have I accomplished since then? A few sad bullet points highlighting my promotion path at my current company, a brief profile comprised of the lamest words in the english language ever strung together in a phrase, and my CV was completed. I had nothing. I've done nothing.

I sent it off to my client with no introduction, no subject line, nothing but an attachment in a blank email. That's how I felt about it. Ashamed. Nothing to say. I skulked into bed last night with my tail between my legs.

Today, I feel resolved to change that. This is the year that I need to begin achieving something. No more working away at nothing significant. I need to learn how to delegate more and to empower employees within my organization. I need to get out there more. I have had 3 public speaking engagements already this year, with 5 more events booked through the end of the year. Plus, I just got another invitation today from a local college (that one sort of dropped out of the sky and right into my lap) to speak to their students. By the end of this year, I will have spoken in South Africa, Mexico and Taiwan and one global business conference. By the end of next year, I would like to speak in at least five more countries and to be appointed to a federally appointed advisory council. I just need to plug into my community and to get out more. Plus I need to begin honing my public speaking skills- I'm too matter of fact and I don't think I connect closely with the audience.

Did anybody see Sarah Palin speak tonight? Hubby was drooling all over her and crowing that she had cojones. I ought to be disturbed that my husband adores a woman with testicles, but that's beside the point. I'm looking for female speakers that I can emulate. What did you think about her public speaking prowess? I thought she was decent, but as far as a female speaker to model myself after, I'm not so sure. For one thing, I don't have cojones...

Time for My Annual Entry!

Wow, it's been a long time since I've been on this thing. I actually have a lot of content to post, I just have one of those pesky workplaces that block this quality site. But I have unlocked this rusty site for the week and will attempt to catch up on things (both in reading your blog as well as updating mine).

Today, as we were mooing in the Costco line, Hubby remarked to me, "isn't today our anniversary?" After an initial state of panic, I suddenly realize that (for once), he was wrong! Well, actually, technically he is correct. Today is July 20th, which would effectively make it his anniversary all right, but not to me. It was his anniversary to his FIRST wife!

Fortunately for him, I am the coolest second wife in the world, and forgave him on the spot for it. In fact, it's downright hilarious. He was close enough. July 23rd is our legal anniversary (the March one was our more parent-friendly wedding), which was coincidently only 3 days after his anniversary to his first wife. Same weekend, same place, different wife.

Hubby and I eloped in Vegas at the Passion Chapel of Oriental Massagee three years ago. We didn't really tell anybody at the time because it was just something I've always threatened to do. My parents still don't know. Anyway, our site of matrimony was immortalized in a former massage parlor converted into wedding chapel. It was actually right up our alley. I forfeited my $250 deposit and opted not to walk down the faded astroturf aisle at "Cupid's Wedding Chapel", which incidently looked just like a funeral parlor. So much for booking it online ahead of time. You're not supposed to plan your elopement! So driving around town, we decided to seal the deal at the most appropriate place to signify our love- a neon purple, leopard print pewed, snazzy little love parlor.

Wrap it up with the minister who marries men to their television sets/motorcycles and women to themselves, two cute gay witnesses and one dog-collared sobbing best friend, and we had ourselves a bonafide wedding! Never mind that the minister was calling his second wife "a world class bitch" and cursing the institution of marriage, at least his internet ordination fees were up to date.

We have never once remembered our July anniversary date in the three years we have been married. Therefore Hubby's really not THAT much to blame for the date screw up. But what's important is that he still remembers that he's married, be it to Bitch #1 or to the SEQUEL: Bigger Bitch #2.

Does it not feel like the holidays to anybody else? I haven't really felt one ounce of Christmas cheer so far into December. Instead, I feel like I'm steadily exhibiting the symptoms of a workaholic... I've been out of touch with my friends since our summer bbqs, and I have no idea how the heck we've arrived at the end of the year without knowing what happened in August, September, October and November. In fact, all I can think about when you mention those months to me is how our numbers have been (fortunately, we blew our projections out of the water, thank you very much).

I've become such a workaholic that we're even spending our holiday weekend with my client from Sweden!! And I happily volunteered to work Christmas Eve while giving the time off to my department. Screw the Christmas spirit, it's all about contracts, budgets, projections and sales growth. But if things keep going the way they are going, I have a pretty good shot at hitting executive level within the next 10 years- hopefully before I trade my stilettos for nurse shoes and my fitted slacks for mom jeans.  Not that that means anything in the grand scheme of things.

Honestly, if I devoted even 10% of my passion and drive for my work towards altruistic causes, I'd probably feel much more fulfilled. Yet somehow I feel something sort of empty inside of me... like I'm wasting my time on things that don't matter in the long run.

We were at a lovely wedding yesterday at the Ritz Carlton for an old family friend, and he said something so poignant during his speech. He said, in reality, a wedding was a chance for the couple to celebrate us, the people that they loved. Isn't that so true? Can you imagine anything more wonderful- the best day of your life, surrounded by all the people that have loved you through your entire life's journey- through the good, the bad and the ugly.

It's inspired me for my New Year's resolution- to surround myself with my friends and loved ones as much as possible. Translation: Party at my house.

Housing Update

I'm sorry that I haven't updated this thing in a while. But I need to close the loop on this housing thing, since my last few entries were devoted to this stubbornly persistent theme in our lives. So this summer we ended up signing our names to the aforementioned financial nightmare. But don't you like my new room with a master retreat and large roman soaking tub?

Okay, this is the model (I have much better taste in decorating, obviously), but it was a good deal at the time, and we couldn't resist the delicious thought of being homeowners. So the builders are almost finished building our new house- they just need to lay in the uber-rare Scandanavian granite slabs that Hubby painstakingly picked out and the 8 inch thick fluffy cloud-like carpet that I impulsively chose. Plus, this house doesn't face any other houses, so we have tons of privacy for that nudist colony we've always dreamed of hosting at our house. 

So while we have the house of our dreams, ahead lies the financial mess of our worst nightmares. Or maybe it's just mine. Hubby has this irritating trait that I've dubbed "Delusional Self-Confidence" that has always gotten him through the worst of life somehow without a scratch. On the other hand, since my early twenties, I've lived a relatively fortunate life (probably God's way of making it up to me after my first 20 years), but I still find some reason to freak out every once in a while. But Countrywide seemed to think we were just fine, and somehow arm-wrestled us into signing a few reams of paper recently.

So we've been doing the whole moving thing- boxes, making arrangements and begging our muscular hunky friends to help us out. So as our lovely house on a hill is nearing its final stages of completion, look what the wind blew in this weekend:

I'm not kidding you- this would be our view from our front porch, had we moved in already. Yup, it's the famed Irvine fire in Portola Springs, feeding off our new backyard. It all started off as a large smoke plume that we noticed late afternoon as we were barbequing.  

By dark, the thick ashes were choking us as we jetted up to our house to find out whether it was still standing. The police had barricaded the road to the house, so we drove around for about half an hour, chasing the flames around the hills. I didn't realize how much of the fumes I was inhaling until I feel a debilitating sharp pain in my head.. then I started getting extremely dizzy and felt like I was being smothered. I thought I was going to pass out, but instead my stomach lurched and I ended up vomiting a few times. I had a hard time breathing the rest of the night, and today it feels like there's something burning in my chest. I just feel really bad for the firefighters that had to be in the thick of the action. I heard there's at least four of them in critical condition, so remember to offer up your prayers for them.

This morning we went up there again (this time I wore a respiratory mask) and the hills by our home were still on fire. I heard that this is going to be another long night for our firefighters.. I just hope these Santa Anas will die down and give them some rest.

Interestingly enough, NASA was able to capture some images of the smoke from these fires:

At this point, I just hope and pray that everybody will be okay and that these fires will die off soon. But before they do, I'm thinking it wouldn't be the end of the world if the fires go for a little more fuel in Portola and delay the close of escrow a little longer for us. Confidential to our nudist friends: Keep your clothes on and your fingers crossed.

Irvine Homeless Ranch

After careful consideration, it appears that our shiny new John Laing Home in Portoloa Springs is starting to show a few cracks in the foundation.

The price is right, the location is a luxurious retreat from the squalor of OC, the home fixtures are all that is lovely in the world... but the taxes are right on par to bending over and exposing yourself to your cellmate Bubba. How would you like to pay a 1.9% rate, plus $472 in HOA dues a month? Maybe it doesn't sound that bad off the bat, but let's break that down a bit.

Let's say you purchase an average home in the OC. We'll round it down to a nice even $700,000, if you don't want to live in a cardboard shack built in the 60's.

1.9% of that is $13,300 a year, in property taxes and mello roos. The property tax itself is about 1.03%, which leaves your mello roos at 0.87%. Yeah, yeah, it's less than a percentage point, it's astronomical when you realize that you're paying $6,090 for pavement, bushes and street lamps. Yes, they'll make you pay for those too!! Indefinitely!!!

Throw in that HOA at $5664 (this means that they are DOUBLE-taxing you for pavement, bushes and street lamps), and you come to a grand total of $18,964 a year. This breaks down to $1580 a month.  

Well, that doesn't sound so bad.. I can afford $18,964 a year, you say.  We haven't even STARTED your mortage payment yet! Throw in your montly mortgage at $4900, your monthly pavement payment of $1580, and you're looking at a base payment of $6480 a month. Add in utils and some bells and whistles and you're looking at a square $7,000 payment a month. This is just for a functioning roof over your head. Good luck to you if you were planning on eating anytime this month. Or driving a car.

Even if you still find that payment manageable, you're still being tooken. If you had an extra $1580 a month to throw away on pavement and bushes, why don't you spring for that million dollar home? Why on earth would you want to live in a stucco condo with a sad little patio if you sprang a little more for a detached home with a real backyard (pool party, anyone)? 

We are now realigning our house-hunting ideals to the following. Our ultimate goal now is to buy a backyard, and set up the ultimate cabana, barbeque, and hot tub experience. We want to throw pool parties out there and invite the top 50 friends that we'd like to see naked. That's right.. our new family philosophy... "Clothing Optional".

Kudos if you can name that movie quote. I've wasted too much time this morning, I've got to go to work so that I can pay for the pavement this month. At least I won't have to pay for clothes, given the above...