Today marks two years at my job. Which was orignally a 6-month internship.
I can't decide if I'm happy about this or not. When I moved to Singapore, the plan was to do this job to keep a roof over my head until I found something I really wanted to do. As I recall, I ended up looking for about two months and - after not getting a single interview - deciding I might as well stick with the one place that had given me a chance. Then a few months after that, the Wall Street meltdown happened, and I decided I not only would never get a job at a bank, I also didn't want one.
In other words, having sworn I wouldn't just fall into something after finishing my last degree, well, that's exactly what I did.
On the other hand, I've stayed employed over the past two years and that's something to be grateful for. I've also gotten to travel for work quite a bit, I have experience on my resume that I didn't have before, and there have been times when this job really has been a lot of fun. But as you may have guessed, the past few weeks have not been among those times. Things are slow. That could change any time, or it may not. Such is life with a startup company: 0-60 and back again in no time.
But I guess if things were really going to fall apart, it'd have happened by now!
Friday, April 23, 2010
Thursday, April 15, 2010
An ordinary couple is all we'll ever be...
If you know me, you won't be surprised to hear that I have always doubted I'd ever get married. And if I did, I would never, ever get down on one knee and all that jazz. No offense to those of you who like that particular ritual - that's your choice, and more power to you. But I find it mildly insulting to both sexes. If I have to make any pretense of begging, then is it even really love anyway? I've always said if the woman in question had a problem with that, then she probably wasn't right for me anyhow.
One out of two ain't bad, in this case anyway.
We haven't set a date and probably won't for a while. Too much is up in the air for both of us these days. But it is at least as official as can be without a date. It happened over coffee at Starbucks a couple of weekends ago. There were no fireworks. (Just what happens with big elaborate proposals in a public place when the answer is "no", anyway? I don't think we want to know!) And, as noted, no getting down on one knee.
Now, what I love about Gyle - and why we got this far in the first place - is that she's fine with that. She wasn't expecting me to beg her for anything, she knew I wouldn't, and she's okay with that.* She's okay with having a fiance whose most romantic gesture is reciting the second verse of Bruce's I Wanna Marry You as one might recite a Shakespeare sonnet**, over a dinner of spaghetti and meatballs (yes, I'd had a couple of beers, courtesy of her flatmate). How could I fail to love that?
I don't really feel any different than I did before that day at Starbucks. And I'm pretty sure that's just the way it's supposed to feel.
*One of her predecessors once got rather upset at me because I'd collected the wrong number of Sweet & Lows for her coffee, even as she failed to notice that I didn't take it in my coffee.
**Another of her predecessors once asked me "Is that Jimmy Buffett, honey?" when I was realy quoting Sylvia Plath. And yeah, I know I'm probably the only person alive who could quote both of them from memory.
One out of two ain't bad, in this case anyway.
We haven't set a date and probably won't for a while. Too much is up in the air for both of us these days. But it is at least as official as can be without a date. It happened over coffee at Starbucks a couple of weekends ago. There were no fireworks. (Just what happens with big elaborate proposals in a public place when the answer is "no", anyway? I don't think we want to know!) And, as noted, no getting down on one knee.
Now, what I love about Gyle - and why we got this far in the first place - is that she's fine with that. She wasn't expecting me to beg her for anything, she knew I wouldn't, and she's okay with that.* She's okay with having a fiance whose most romantic gesture is reciting the second verse of Bruce's I Wanna Marry You as one might recite a Shakespeare sonnet**, over a dinner of spaghetti and meatballs (yes, I'd had a couple of beers, courtesy of her flatmate). How could I fail to love that?
I don't really feel any different than I did before that day at Starbucks. And I'm pretty sure that's just the way it's supposed to feel.
*One of her predecessors once got rather upset at me because I'd collected the wrong number of Sweet & Lows for her coffee, even as she failed to notice that I didn't take it in my coffee.
**Another of her predecessors once asked me "Is that Jimmy Buffett, honey?" when I was realy quoting Sylvia Plath. And yeah, I know I'm probably the only person alive who could quote both of them from memory.
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