Context and Cocktails

Resumes out, calls, phone interviews, getting jerked around by HR departments. On the one hand, I am relieved that I am getting a response to my resume. One of the reasons I went to business school was that I was living the cliche of the post-bubble bay area. I had a fabulous upward career path, made more money than I ever had before, and then faster then you can say "bust" it was gone. I could barely find places to send my resume, and when I did, it was like a large sucking vacuum into a void. So actually having people RESPOND made me feel optimistic. On the other hand, I was really running out of money, fast. It was nice to get a response, but I did not have a lot time to come up with cash and even the temp jobs were requiring interviews and all kinds of other crap beyond the basic temp agency screening. But of course while living on the edge of poverty, I am staying in my haven of modern zen serenity, with a housekeeper once a week who does my laundry. The amazing thing about the laundry is not only does it get done, but it gets folded, into the flattest, neatest piles. I continued to be mystified how she achieves this. Clearly, it is the work of a professional. But I digress.

The reality of my economic situation pops up when I interact with the outside world. I am aware of every dollar I spend because it seems like as soon as I step out the door money evaporates, and I am having a serious drought. I hate this state of mind. A wise woman once told me that you never want to have your hand so tightly closed around your money that your hand has no room to receive money. I believe these are words to live by. But in August 2005, I am finding it challenging to fully embrace that.

Veronica, aka Roni Sue, aka Fab Black Woman, and one of my favorite people, is coming to town for the weekend. She lives on the east coast. I cannot make the dinner party on Saturday night and I simply must see her. We are going to meet for drinks some where in the mission. I do not really have money for drinks, but if one of your favorite people fly from the east coast for 48hrs and you have leave town with within 12 of those hours, you absolutely must have drinks with them.

It was my job to pick the bar. I have not really been out in the city since the bust and I know a lot of places have closed, so I got to citysearch.com to see what is still around and what might be intriguing. I settle on the Latin American club. I have not been there but some of my girlz from Mills liked drinking there and its the mission, it can't be too expensive.

That night I head off to the city in the Audi. I am relieved to discover that the car has fastrak and my toll gets paid. I hate myself for caring about $3. The self-hatred passes and I find my way to the bar. I like it immediately. Its a bar's bar. A little crowded but I still manage to score a couple of bar stools together.

The Latin American Club turns out to be a good call. I order a margarita and it arrives on the rocks in a pint class usually reserved for beer or lattes. Veronica shows up and the pint of margarita that only costs $6 lasts the entire evening. I feel far less irresponsible now.

After too quick of an evening I drop her off where she is staying and location of the bash I would be missing because I am going rafting*. It was at that bash where she and our friend Chan bestowed me with the honor of being "unemployed with the most style."

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* I am a volunteer guide with Healing Waters, an awesome organization to give your time and/or money to, so check 'em out.