the darnedest girl

So, it's about that time!

Tomorrow's moving day--the car's mostly packed (voila, 12 of 12), the iPod's loaded up with new podcasts for the drive, and all I can say is that my twenty-five-year-old self would definitely not have believed this. I'm thrilled and terrified--afraid to leave but ready to go--which, is there a word for this? There must be. Surely I am not the only one who gets this way, going to bed in an empty bedroom.

The hard part is leaving my friends again, when I feel like I just got here--but at the same time, I think the time I've had with them this year has been extra-sweet, and they've been nothing but supportive (possibly due to the threat of beatings at the hands of captainoz, who is endearingly determined in her encouragement). I'm also leaving Sherlock with my parents, due to a severely allergic roommate and much to my sorrow--but it's only for three months, including time at home for Thanksgiving and Christmas and possibly the sing-along Sound of Music that I really want to go to, after which my roommates are breaking up anyway and I'll find someplace cat-friendly. Sigh. Now who will try to lick live spiders off the wall?

The best part, though--well, how would I know? However: I have an awesome internship (actually, maybe two: I have an interview on Monday) and three fun roommates...and momentum. (Also a house with a pool. Swimming pools! Movie stars!) And that, I can get behind.

In any case, that's the beauty of L.A.: only two Fresh Airs, two This American Lifes, and a Radio Lab (also accepted: Car Talk), and you're there, or back! Piece of cake.

See you on the flip side.

Or, welcome to the first day of the rest of your--my--life.

Today was my first day of whatever it is I'm doing--freelancing? The writer's life? Unemployment? It was strange and slightly guilt-inducing--like playing hooky and not ever going back--but also awesome and affirming to realize the opportunity I've got here, the opportunity to change my life and do what I love. My biggest fear is that I'll waste the chance--but I'm so excited and so afraid of my own laziness that I don't think I will. I feel ready to work.

Ironically, my day was decidedly unproductive, writing-wise: I took my brother to the airport, watched The Daily Show over lunch, started moving into my new room (formerly the guest room/Ben's room), and went for a run. I hunted a bit for freelance work on Craigslist (another affirming moment: the full-time writing/editing jobs available around here are, with the exception of one bilunabirotunda sent me, utterly soul-crushing) and I'm working on a review of A Single Man for P.S. BTW. Tomorrow: write write write, and also, I suspect, more moving/organizing action.

Headlines from Christmas vacation:

- My parents bought a cabin in the mountains! It's meant to be a retirement project/hangout (they're both retiring within the next six months), and it's currently pink and also not quite ready for habitation unless you are a giant scary spider, but it is also delightful and full of potential. It's two hours east of here, south of Tahoe and north of Yosemite, just above the snow line, and off a not-crowded highway (so as to not trap us all in hours and hours of traffic). It's a one-bedroom plus loft, and has a huge semi-covered deck that is simply begging for me to decorate it with twinkle lights and paper lanterns and have a party. WHICH I AM GOING TO DO. So you should all come.

- In the mean time, we have moved my stuff out of storage and into the cabin. This way, I don't pay for storage, and they have stuff to use in the cabin for awhile. Win for all!

- Had a very chill New Year's Eve at captainoz's place; basically, Bridget Jones's Diary (which, you know, is so appropriate because it all began on New Year's Day; deep!) + a short and dismaying foray into New Year's Rockin' Eve (aging J.Lo out-discomforts non-aging, post-stroke Dick Clark) + bed. Happy 2010, friends! When did that even happen?

- I cannot wait for winter TV--our DVD player is broken and there's no DVR set up yet, and so I'm faced nightly with the option of watching college football by the fire with my family, or huddling in bed with only my laptop and things I actually want to watch to keep me warm.

- Have finished S1 of The Wire; it was very good, but I gather that the true genius comes out in the later seasons. I hope. My brother took his boxed set back to DC with him, so tomorrow will be rooting around in my stuff for the Netflixes I haven't returned (apparently I didn't really want to watch Sin City or Sydney White). On to the Port of Baltimore!

- I must really live here now--I have a library card! I finally finished Margaret Atwood's The Robber Bride (v. good and absorbing, despite slightly tedious characters) and have just started John Connolly's The Book of Lost Things, and am putting in hold requests for The Thin Man, Lady Susan, The Book Thief, and anything else I want. Libraries are such wealth, aren't they?

Bed.

Good night.

You guys, I am living Notting Hill this morning, and not the part where I hang out on a park bench in London and listen to Hugh Grant read Henry James (...yet).

I'm skipping out on work this morning to attend the press junket for Night at the Museum 2--it's at the Smithsonian Castle--and am strangely surprised to find that this is, like, a real thing? I guess I sort of knew that--the cast is all here, etc.--but...this is DC. How many entertainment journalists can we possibly have?

Except that I am SO OUTCLASSED. These people have tape recorders! And cameras that don't fit in their pockets! And some of them are clearly not from around here (I just heard another press person say, "I don't know what's going on, but I bet if you asked one of the super-skinny blonde girls around here, they could tell you." Heh. I love hanging with writers.) I mean, yay, right? This is fun. I am absolutely not complaining, just a little...wide-eyed, and possibly unprepared (OMG...questions?). Also, Amy Adams and I can finally be BFFs, as is clearly our destiny! I knew this would happen! Hee.

Anyway, I am totally from Horse and Hound. Will report back later.

Soooooo, remember what I said this morning about "down to the wire"?

What would you say if I told you that I got the job?

BECAUSE I GOT THE JOB.

I got the job!

The staffing person e-mailed around 9:00 tonight to say she's been instructed to make me an offer, and she'd like to talk details tomorrow morning at 9:00. As in, half an hour before I was supposed to show up for my first day of Job #1. I asked if we could do it earlier, and as soon as I have a firm offer, I'm going to call Job #1 and cancel on them (eep!).

And then, you know, I'm going to move 3,000 miles away. To Washington DC. And I'm terrified and thrilled all at once, which I suspect will be a common feeling for awhile.

Thanks so much for all of your support and well-wishing through two years of slogging and then this past week of crazy. You've been great, and I'm so glad I know each and every one of you! Now come visit me in DC, please (except for sarita_m, who is now my guru/RL friend).

Sometimes, I don't understand my life at all, and I just have to accept that somewhere, there is a grand universal laugh track.

Who has two thumbs and a phone interview for a government writing job tomorrow? THIS GIRL!

After lunch today, I had a voice mail from my contact at the State Department--they're reposting the editing job I didn't get this summer, but she'd also thought I'd be a good candidate for a writing job in the same area. It pays the same as the editing job--double my current salary--and it's a much faster hiring process. As in...now. I emailed her and said I was interested (but voiced my concern over not having the "required" advanced degree in TEFL); she said, "How about a phone interview tomorrow?"

HA HA. FUNNY, UNIVERSE!

(Seriously, though, how crazy would it be if they hired me?)

I just sent the first draft of the first half of my short film off to my co-writer. He's a good guy, and he wouldn't have asked if he'd felt confident enough in his own writing to come up with a script alone, but it's still nerve-wracking, this first pass-off. I've said before that leaving a piece of writing with another person is like leaving a child with a babysitter for the first time, but this time it's like leaving a child with a babysitter who might end the evening by saying, "This child sucks and it's all your fault. Maybe you should have another one, but make it totally different. Or better yet, stop breeding."

I don't actually think he'll say that, or anything like that. But my imagination has an impressive capacity.

Anyway, at least I sent it off. And now it's past my bedtime.