The thing about losing your job due to downsizing is that along with the financial instability, stress and abundance of time everyone continually chimes in about it being a blessing to have the chance to “Finally do what you want to.”

Yes, along with making poverty casseroles and buying single ply toilet paper I’ve now become inundated about how the world is my oyster and I can do and be anything I can be. The only problem, I have no fucking clue what I want to be when I grow up.

Now, I know a lot of people don’t necessarily have that urge to “be” something when you grow up, but you find yourself in a career where you jusity the hours spent by the finances gained, and you make the best of it. In fact, I’d go as far as to say that’s the story of most people. I don’t know too many people that when filling out the high school career aptitude wheel were delighted to find out they had a daunting future in retail or gas pumping. But it is what it is.

When I think about options, I know I have no future in health care as any bodily fluids makes me gag, and mathematics are out as well as fractions are still pretty fucking hard. Although my degree is in both Public Relations and writing, I’m not necessarily great at either. I have no career in the arts, as stick figures are my forte and it took two years of theatre school before I realized I really can’t act. Office jobs have always been my backup, but more and more office jobs are requiring both Excel and Accounting skills, neither which I possess. I am way too high strung to work in a restaurant field, and am far too honest for sales. I am too awkward to really hold a place in any sort of social setting, and don’t have the leadership skills for management. My driving skills are sub par at best, and I wear my heart on my sleeve so a career in any sort of social services would be vetoed for a long term plan.

When it all boils down to it I am over educated, under skilled and when I think about the things I’m good at tweeting, being a walking thesaurus, organizing stuff, and making a mean Caesar come to mind. None of these really equate sound career choices or fields.

Along with just a sarcastic, and pathetic rant of how much I suck there is honesty in this post about how at 31 I have no. fucking. clue of where to go next. Back to school to discover another disciple? To another office job to hopes of making it work?  I can only wish I was one of those people that just quit their job one day to open up a cupcake business, but instead find cupcakes overrated and have no inkling to bake for a living. All I know if how the fuck am I supposed to follow my dreams, if I have no idea what my niche is, much less what that dream is?

All I know is until that point comes along I’ll be making poverty casserole, over-thinking things, and possibly trading in my car for a convertible to complete my new midlife crisis look.

When unemployed, the most important call you will get is the one for an interview. I’ve been fortunate enough to have a been on the receiving end of a few of them lately (knock on wood) but unfortunately the timing is a little off.

For example, do I get the interview call when I’m sitting on my couch for roughly 186 hours of the day? No.

So far I have been on the receiving end of the elusive call while at a noisy pub mid afternoon.  Like before 2pm. While it was obvious pub background noise. Yarg. I have been on the receiving end when someone dared for call me before 9am, therefore answering the phone to the professional tone of “whfrhjgdrgh..zzzzz….whatta you want?”  Double yarg.

And then there’s today, when the call didn’t come between the hours of 8-11am when parked on said couch, it came promptly after hopping into the shower setting off a chain of events such as slipping on soap (who does that outside of slapstick comedy?) grabbing the shower curtain for balance, taking the shower curtain down with me, and then falling onto the floor as a wet, beached rolled up shower curtain burrito.

Fuck. This is why voicemail was invented. I’m done with answering my phone. Potential places of employment can text me the info.

I hate resolutions for New Years, yet after such a tumultuous and tempest year feel there needs to be some sort of definitive point for going into 2012.  Right now on paper, I am not necessarily the poster child for success. 31, single, unemployed, and uncertain are all crosses I currently bear.

That being said, I also right now am afforded the luxury of having a clean slate. I don’t have a job that pays me well enough to stay, but is swarming with politics and snide commentary. I don’t have to worry about whether a guy is “the one” or where it’s going. And I certainly don’t have to worry about where my next pay cheque is coming from, courtesy of the pizza cash the government is throwing at me weekly.

So rather than make one or two pointed resolutions for the year, I’ve decided to start a list of things that are NOT going to happen instead.

I’m NOT going to dwell on 2011. It was a rough year, and a hard year, but it is over.  It’s time to move forward.

I’m NOT going to find happiness in a magic number on a scale but though the confidence I have wearing skinny jeans.

I’m NOT going to accept a job based on pay, location, or how it looks on a resume. I’m going to accept a job based on the fit, and the overall sense of satisfaction.

I’m NOT going to contemplate a breast reduction. My boobs are fantastic, just the way they are.

I’m NOT going to stop having the occasional pint of beer, the cigarette to go with (when drinking) or the extra cheese on my poutine.

That being said I’m NOT going to look for excuses to not go to the gym and I’m NOT going to give up on Zumba despite being the worst one in the class every week.

I’m NOT going to stop spending all my money on iTunes, sushi, and Value Village finds. But I’m NOT going to put anything on my already maxed out credit card either.

I’m NOT going to feel guilty for starting to enjoy this brief stint into unemployment, but I’m NOT going to stop looking for work and poounding the pavement either.

I’m NOT going to rely on social media as such an outlet in 2012, and have decided that weekends are going to be unplugged. That’s probably the scariest thing to ponder to date, which is why it’s also probably one of the most neccesary.

I’m NOT going to stop taking my anxiety medication in 2012, as I know the good it does for me. And yet I’m NOT going to beat myself up for it if I do.

I’m NOT going to waste my time by not writing. Whether through freelance, or this blog, or one of the ten novel ideas floating around in my head.

And I’m NOT going to worry about who reads, comments, or follows this thing anymore .

If I had balls, 2011 could lick them.

Friend, passed away. Relationship, gone. Job, over.

2012 is going to kick ass. Other than that whole world ending thing.

Disclaimer: one of my best friends Shane had a sudden stroke yesterday at the age of 30. Right now he is in for the fight of his life, and this week is going to be touch and go based on brain swelling. If he passes, he will join his brother who suddenly passed on Wednesday. Right now all we can do is pray and keep him in our thoughts for a recovery. If you could pray for him and his family or keep them in your thoughts too, it would be deeply appreciated right now.

I managed to spend almost a week at the Olympics. I learned to snowboard. I got sunburnt. I discovered new food. I also discovered new allergies.I reconnected. I started to heal and grow old friendships gone awry. I cut the ties on those that weren’t healthy. I drank wine. I laughed. I cried. I fell down. I got back up again.

I went camping, and spent time at the lake. I finally acquired a grown up apartment. I still haven’t hung more pictures on my wall. I gained weight. I obsessed over it. I accepted it. I grew to be okay with it. I had acquantences turn into real friendships, and friendships strengthen to family. I took a break from blogging. I took a break from everything. I focused on the now, and the moment. I didn’t look in the past . I closed the door on my Mr. Big. I don’t regret it, even during the lonely times.

I had health problems that started slowly and snowballed. I read up about them, I studied then. I met with specialists. I heard scary words. I had appointments, which lead to biopsies, which lead to surgery. I healed. I am now better. I am lucky.

I fell in love. I did all the right things. I became part of a family. I realized for the first time I make a good partner. I accepted a little girl into my life. I fell deeply in love with her.I realized maybe life with children isn’t so scary. I realized what I had been denying all along. That my maternal instict isn’t dead, but very much alive. I tended to the house and found love in simple routines and cooking. I met family and friends. I had anniversary dinners. I made long term plans. I house shopped. I made love. I had inside jokes. I was part of a unit.

I listened to my gut instinct. I questioned. I walked away. I don’t regret it. I had dark moments, and raw moments and moments of blackness that swallow you whole.I felt empty. I had my sense of purpose shattered. I had friends and family pick me up. I had friends emotionally spoon feed me when the nerve endings were to raw to do so. I realized that I have more love in my life that I could ever be thankful for. I vented. I cried. I found strength in life again. I am still not on solid grounds. But I am getting there.

I am mapping out a new future. I bought myself a ring. I am breeching the possibility of dating again. I am scared to do so, but also somewhat excited. I am focusing on the now. But I am not scared of the future. I am working on making healthy choices in my life. I am not missing my twenties.

I am wondering what the next 365 days have to bring.

Taking a page from my lovely neighbour, friend and famed blogger Amber I have a few December confessions to share…

• I have no idea what wikileaks are, and I read the newspaper every day. I just skip over that section as it seems kinda boring. I suspect it has something to do with wikipedia. No joke.

• I keep meaning to take part in #reverb10 but that means rehashing and reflecting on the past of this year, and I’m not ready to do that on this blog yet. Right now blogging is a means for me to move forward from my relationship over the past year.

• I don’t know if I’m ever going to be on my feet financially, and I’ve all but given up trying.

• I hate shortbread cookies. There. I said it.

• I’m tired of being the funny girl. I want to be the pretty girl. Laziness and genetics get in the way, but I want to start to make an effort to change that. I know it’s shallow, and I should be better than that, but I’m not. Pretty girls get noticed. I do not.

• I keep pushing for a promotion at work, but honestly I’m not sure if I’d be good in a higher level position. I have the smarts and the interpersonal skills, but I suspect I’m not good management material. I avoid conflict and am passive aggressive in how I deal with it. I also have the math skills of a seven year old (no joke). But I still want the financial stability that goes with a higher position.

• Glee Christmas special made me cry. Actually a lot of Glee episodes make me cry.

• I’m obviously reverting back into a highschool mentality, because right now more than dating and more than sex I just want someone to make out with. That’s all. Just a good ol fashioned make out session til your lips feel chapped. Preferably in the falling snow. Or my new bed.

• If my mother gives me one more pair of skanky panties or lingerie for Christmas, I’m threatening to tie my tubes permanently.Grandchildren will happen in due time, with or without the help. It’s gone from cute to creepy.

• Some days I worry that I’ll never havea relationship with a guy that’s as good as the one I have with my cat.

• I hate autocorrect only for the fact that it can kill a good sexting conversation.

What are your confession so far this week?

So is the Christmas season punching anyone else in the face? Good. Cause tell me I’m not the only one that’s scrambling with coming up with present ideas and the such.

As the season has crept up, so has Christmas parties. Now I luuuurve me a good Christmas party, but this years crop is causing me a lot of panic and stress as I have No Idea What to Wear. I’ve never claimed to be the most fashionable woman, but I’m tired of wearing the exact same dress over and over to the same shindigs. So this year I managed to accumulate a few new dresses  and I have no idea which one to wear.

Being recently single, the ante is upped as I’d be lying if I said I’m not out there to troll for men meet new people.This is where you come in, as your opinion does matter to me. Try not to mind my pasty skin tone, or the lack of makeup in the pics.  I can clean up alright,but the question still remains, which dress shall I say yes to? 

It's velvet. It's warm. It could also be a maternity dress one day.

Baby Got Back (don't mind the pricetags still attached)

It's little. It's black. It's a dress.

It's a little waspy, but I do love me some chardonnay

This is where the dress gets very va va voom

Oh, and did I mention my first Christmas party is tonight? HALP!

I know, I have alot of nerve (and gusto!) to leave mah’ bloggy friends for almost a year and then come back asking stuff of you.

That’s just the kind of person I am.

But this is a gooder. Pinky swear. In a way of trying to gain back connections and be a productive member of society I’m wanting to know a few things…

1.) First off what’s all new with you? I’ve been reading blogs ever since  I left, but its always nice to catch up with people.

2.) Is there any blogs out there I absolutely must be reading. Over the time I’ve lost a few followers, and others have retired or gone the wayside as well. What blogs out there should I be reading?

And most importantly,

3.)If anyone is wanting a Christmas card from Tinkerbell and myself, feel free to send your mailing address to piratemeghan at hotmal dot com and I’ll make certain that it will arrive slightly before, if not most definately after the holidays.  Expect something along the lines of this…

Sigh. It’s good to be back.

I’ve been fighting it for awhile now. And questioning  it at every point. But truth be told….I miss blogging. A lot. I miss my blogging friends. I miss the catharsis of writing posts. And I miss the community.

A lot has happened in some ways, and very little has happened in other ways.  Either way, I’m kind of ready to come back.

So now I’m just throwing out a life preserver to see if anyone is out there? If so, thanks for sticking with me, and if not, well that’s okay too. This time, I want to do it for me. With more jazz hands, and less losing of the pants. Less, not entirely.