Because I miss you.

I didn’t mean to stop blogging.  But for me, “stopping blogging” is a lot like “starting eating” – if I don’t pay attention, it just happens.  And then it’s been days, and then weeks, and I’m a wreck, moaning about how my life has no meaning or purpose and I’LL NEVER BE SKINNY AGAIN.

This cannot happen.  I WILL NOT ABIDE BY IT.  I must blog.

So, let’s play catch up.  It will be fun, and you will love it.

The numero uno, top tier piece of information from my life that I have to tell you is that I adore my new job.  I adore it.  It’s busy and dynamic and fun, and incorporates a lot of things that I love (writing, social media, ideas, relationships, to-do lists, generosity, details, travel).  It’s good for me to be out of the house, no longer working from home.  I am consistently wearing outfits – honest-to-goodness outfits – for the first time in over a year.  I am showering on a schedule.  I am talking to other humans in real life.  I am using my brain in fun ways, and getting to know the natural foods industry, and Tebowing on a regular basis out of sheer gratitude for the opportunity.

Speaking of Tebow, oh my gracious.  Did anyone else watch the Broncos on Sunday?  I did.  At the next door neighbor’s house – who I don’t even know.  But what can I say?  My decision to become a Broncos fan is bringing me into a new sphere, one with dual flatscreen TVs and crockpots of chili and really nice people and flags on the plays (which I pretend to understand and then get indignant about).  Living three blocks from the stadium, our Sunday evening was loud and giddy.  If you ever want to feel a part of a city, just start rooting for their sports teams.  Take it from me: insta-community-builder.

It’s a snowy, snowy day in Denver today.  But Subaruthless got me up the hill that all of the other cars were stuck on.  And because I don’t own a single pair of leggings, I am wearing my running tights under a long sweater and my black boots.

I’m ready for anything.

My sweetie friend Miles – the one who played guitar for my original Larabar song, the one who gave me my most favorite nickname of all time (“Persnicket”), the one who makes work so much more fun – made me this.

That?  Is awesome.  And hilarious.

Thanks for the wonderful years, Emma.  Thanks for introducing me to some of the greatest people in my life.  Thanks for the chance to make Nashville home.  Thanks for acting as training wheels for my transition to Denver, and now launching me out on my own.  Thanks for teaching me how to talk to all sorts of people, and giving me the confidence to confront conflict, and guiding me toward grace under pressure.  Thank you for being exactly the right place during exactly the right time.

I kind of feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

Except for… um, her?

Really, internet?  Really?

Well, so, okay.  Second place, I guess.

As the carry-on inched toward the x-ray machine, the TSA agent observed the swollen vessel, and made a comment that he didn’t know that it would make it through the machine.

“I know!” I laughed.  “It’s about to explode!”

And right then and there, all of the air was sucked out of Denver International Airport.

The silence coddled the word like an overindulgent mother.

Explode.

EXPLODE.

I literally clapped my hand over my mouth, realizing what I had done – and then I sprung into action.

“Haha, I mean explode with my stuff.  My STUFF – nothing dangerous, nothing sharp.  I mean, except for high heels!  Haha!”

No one else was laughing.

“Ma’am, we’re going to need to take a look in your bag.”

I was led to a sterile table where a blue-gloved person (man? woman? man?) asked, “If I open this bag, will anything harm me?”

“No!  No, not at all,” I rushed.  “All that’s in there is shoes.  Oh, and a bunch of computer things.  And I guess some snacks.”

Snacks is right.

The agent slowly, hesitantly, cautiously unzipped the suitcase, and beheld the contents.  “Ma’am, why do you have so many Lärabars?”

Full disclosure: there were hundreds.

“Well, those are for my co-workers in Nashville.”

“Okay…?”

And then, without further prompting, it all came tumbling out.  “I resigned with the company – just last week, actually.  I’ve been working for an email marketing company that’s based in Nashville – but I’m switching jobs.  To Lärabar, actually.  They’re based in Denver – I live in Denver.  I just wanted to bring my Nashville friends some Lärabars – as a little farewell, I guess.”

There it was.  And there it is.

The suddenly indifferent agent waved me through security and all the way to Nashville, where I’ve given the Lärabars to my friends at Emma – an understated thank you for the three years of support, camaraderie, and friendship they have given me.

Come January, I’ll join the marketing team for Lärabar, a brand that I have been evangelizing on my own for years.  I am leaving an incredible company for another incredible company, which is not lost on me: this basically makes me the luckiest girl in the world.  This is one of those moments where I can look back and see how the complicated, jagged-edged pieces have fit together perfectly, creating a gigantic flashing arrow, pointing me toward this next step.

So my suitcase may be emptier – but as much as my heart is tempted to feel the same (after all, I am giving up what has been a very good thing), it’s actually full to overflowing.  I will spend the next week with some of my favorite people in Nashville, and then gently close the door on what has been a beautiful season in my life.

The goodbye is bittersweet, but the future feels warm and bright.  In fact, my heart is exploding with sprinkles.

Just don’t tell TSA.

Actually, here’s how it really goes.  Someone tells me that they don’t think I can do it, and I believe them.  I get sad and discouraged.  I probably cry a little bit.  I walk around with a dazed focus, like I’m trying to solve a Magic Eye picture but to no avail.  I feel helpless and defeated.

Then, I get angry.

Then, I get defensive.

Then, I get motivated.

Then, I get so staggeringly stubborn, there’s no way on earth I won’t achieve whatever it is that someone has said that I won’t do.

So.

Will someone please tell me that they don’t think I can roll over my 403b into my 401k?  It’s been on the to-do list for 3 years now.  I mean, come on.

And while you’re at it, can you tell me that you don’t think I’ll EVER get renter’s insurance?  Or perhaps that I will live without knobs on the top two drawers of my dresser for the rest of my life?  Or that I’ll eat cookies forever, and without ceasing?

Thanks.

I have no patience for creepy shenanigans like that, so I had her give me the phone number.  A quick bit of internet/phone sleuthing later, and I discovered the anonymous texter’s identity – a pre-adolescent boy in the Bay Area, most likely pranking random numbers to freak people out.

So I suggested what any gracious human being would: that she write back, “No, Patrick: I know where YOU live.”

So.  Awesome.

And So. Creepy.

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Now feels like the right time to publicly declare how much I love and appreciate my co-workers.  I am the only person from my team out in Denver, so I spend the entire day corresponding with my teammates through technological means (IM, video chats, conference calls).  And every day, without fail, I find myself silently giggling at my computer screen.

These people are wonderful.  They make me laugh so hard.  And one of them was in “Ernest Scared Stupid” – I’M NOT EVEN JOKING.

I feel so, so lucky to be a part of a team of people who care so well for each other, who approach each day with a positive attitude, and who keep me thoroughly entertained every single day.

Well, then I went to Nashville, where being outside in the summer is the equivalent of being in utero without an umbilical cord.  Is that gross of me to say?  I don’t know – do YOU remember your time in the womb?

Anyway, due to sheer self-preservation and the fact that I value my life, my walking fell behind.  And back in Denver, as of today, June 24, I am only at 119 miles.

Granted, 13 of those miles were yesterday.  THIRTEEN!  I will make up for lost time yet.  Because, as New Math puts it:

- – - – - – - -

I spent yesterday at an online marketing convention, manning a booth for work.  People were asking for my business card.  I’ve never had anyone ask for my business card before!  I was like, “Hello, I am An Expert.  Nice to meet you.”

My friend Scotty recently told me that she likes getting my emails so much that I should somehow find a way to get paid to correspond with people.  That was so nice of her – because after all, I do love to write emails.

But then I thought, hello.  That IS my job.

Hooray!

- – - – - – - -

A lot of you have asked how my mom is doing.  She had her final radiation treatment, and is completely finished with all scheduled cancer treatment.  She is currently in Washington state visiting family and friends, and will be active and walking and hiking the whole time – because she is Susan Freaking Parsons and she defies the odds.

I was on the phone with her the other night, and about to hang up.

“Wait!” she cried.  “I’ve been meaning to ask you something for weeks.”

I prepared myself for talk of money, or maybe why I’m single.

“Do you leave your curtains open?  Because I’ve been worried about sun damage to your couch.”

What would I do without this woman?

January 2010:

My ponytail is making a spectacular comeback.  It’s almost a full-blown mane of glory.

Also, please take a moment to note the difference in my work environments.  Thank you, Emma, for saving me from Sir Allen Stanford.

After 19 months of instability, I start at Emma this morning.

I have no idea what to expect – except that it’s going to be good.  Whatever it is, it’s going to be really good.  No more Temptress… you can now address me as the Permanentress.

When I moved to Nashville over a year ago (remember this day?), I was a little bit crazy in the head.  I HAD to be – because in order to do something as bold as moving across the country alone with no plan, one must be a small fraction insane.  I was treating the move as an open-ended “study abroad” of sorts, and knew that I was free to leave at any time, should I decide that Nashville wasn’t for me.  Finding work through a temp agency only supported my non-committal relationship with this city.

But now?  Now I have a real job.  A legitimate job.  An awesome job.  A job that tells me, “Hey, Annie, you should probably stick around and see where this road takes you.”  I’m really staying here for awhile.

Life is never quite what we expect, is it?

In this case, I’m glad.

Did Nadia Suleman call it quits after 6 kids?

Did having brothers named Track and Trig prevent Bristol Palin from naming her son Tripp?

No.

And in the same way, bucking common sense and what might seem like an obvious result… did the demise of my temp-job in this current economy conclude in me being unemployed for all of eternity?

No.

After exactly six weeks of unemployment – I GOT A JOB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And not just any job. A good job. A great job. A job that makes me so giddy, I want to go throw confetti off the 440 overpass. With people so delightful, I want to bake them each their own personalized cupcake. At a company so awesome, I see it as the pot of gummy bears at the end of a rainbow – the rainbow that runs a mere mile and a half from my house to the offices.

This feels like the one I’ve been waiting for. I am so happy.

See you on Monday, Emma!

I don’t know what days are upon us.  But the fact of the matter is that my life is different.  I don’t know where it’s heading, but I can feel change a brewin’ – and I don’t think that the posting will happen as predictably (i.e. every weekday morning by 11am).  But don’t panic, and don’t cry – I do enough of that for the lot of us – I could never quit blogging.  I’m just saying that sometimes, I might post a lot.  And sometimes, I might have a couple of quiet days.  And sometimes, I might post late at night.  And sometimes, I might post on a lunch break.

That is, if I get a job someday, and thus have something called a “lunch break.”

Speaking of, I do have a little job lined up for this week.  I’m helping a former co-worker get his new financial company up and running, which translates to “preparing paperwork,” which translates to “data entry.”  I am grateful for a little bit of income, especially while I am crossing my fingers for some other things to work out.

By the way, many of you have checked in with me lately and asked about how I’m doing financially during this time of unemployment.  Let me say this: it’s very wise to have an emergency fund.  Very, very wise.  Start saving.

But also, if that fund isn’t very big, it’s really cool to see the ways that God provides for your needs.  Some of you have been a part of that – you know who you are, even if I don’t.  And so it seems strange to say this on this blog, rather than privately, but this is the only way I know how to communicate to you: thank you.  From the bottom of my heart.  I am humbled, and so incredibly grateful.

Now, it’s off to my new temp job.  The Temptress lives again.

But also, before I sign off, guess what: yesterday, I did two things for the first time.  I ran 11.2 miles.  And then I went to Waffle House.