This is a very big, exciting week. On Monday night, as in tonight if you’re reading this the day it posts, Alan will host his first pop-up dinner in Atlanta called, DeeJay’s (named for my grandmother, Dorothy Jean).
Alan and our wonder-woman of a best friend, Betsy, have worked for the past two months to bring it to life, developing branding, an Instagram, shooting commercials and…oh yeah…the menu. It’s been a true testament to community with so many friends offering their services to support a fellow creative.
Alan’s tattoo artist, Austin Archer, designed the alligator in his logo and Austin’s wife, Jessie of Paint Cloud Design, has done the rest of the design work and branding. Ben Martin, our dear, talented buddy and his business partner John, of Juice Factory, their production company, loaded an entire camera crew into our tiny apartment and we shot three different commercials to use over the course of the next year. It’s been a month full of excitement, to-do lists and heart-expanding collaboration. The event sold out in under 8 hours without even a mention of the food being served. I cannot wait to report back next week (CHRISTMAS DAY) on how it went.
For the past six months, I’ve circled the drain of frustration with my job. I’ve been a server for going on 15 years. That’s a sentence I’ve typed so many times I could barf. Having already written a piece about waiting tables this year, I’ll spare you and myself the eye-rolling minute of reading about how ready I am to pull out my hair over it. Long story short, I am bored.
On Friday, having just gotten out of the shower and dripping onto my bathroom floor, I opened a DM from Betsy. A post from Cherry Bombe, the magazine and media company focused on women in the food and beverage industry, announced they’re hiring a copywriter/editor. Put plainly, I could not believe it. I looked at myself in the mirror with new, sudden clarity. Somewhere in the world, a career lives weaving writing and cooking and restaurants and women into a chic role I would love to fill.
Without waxing too naive about the existence of food writers, I’ll just tell you, it hadn’t even occurred to me that I could maybe be one. Of course I am applying. Of course I am old enough to have measured expectations of getting the job. Of course I have been reveling in the fantasy of writing about food with a team of women. At the end of the day, the sheer existence of a position like this, that provides a good salary and benefits, really blew my mind and I’m beyond grateful for that expansion.
Several times this week, I’ve discussed with friends, how things show up when you’re ready. Truly ready. The lead up to achieving a dream, the excitement, nervousness and desperation, all seem to fall away when that happens. Certainty and a calm knowing replace anxiety.
I anguished over my desire for love for so many years of my life. In the six or so months before I met Alan, I just kind of, got over that. I knew I was going to meet someone. I just knew it. And then I did. And now we are together. While I feel thankful everyday to share my life with someone as amazing as Alan, meeting him didn’t turn my world upside down the way I expected it to when I was fantasizing about falling in love. It was more like, “oh, you’re here, great, let’s keep it moving.”
I absolutely abhor the cliché that when ‘you stop looking it finds you’ but unfortunately I think it’s true. The desperation of the dreaming phase brings with it so much lack and self pity. In between the butterflies of what could and will be, lives the fear, ‘what if it doesn't.’ For me, it’s like a dog with zoomies, racing in a circle of fear until I’ve burned off the majority of that energy, leaving hope and positivity to dominate in peace. When you’re ready, the thing you want doesn’t matter as much anymore…because you’re ready. Essentially, you already have it.
This week, my zero to sixty at the restaurant mellowed. I didn’t get angry with the girl who challenged me on how long our wine list has been natural. Or the dude who picked a Sunchoke off his plate midair as I handed it to him asking “what is this?” and promptly shoving it into his mouth before I could answer. Tis the season to get shit-faced. Not even the gaggle of girls I politely asked to keep it down who then literally screamed “AHHHHHH” in my face could break me. Who knows exactly why the calm sense of humor about my job I’ve been seeking has suddenly appeared. At the end of the day, I’m thankful for some direction. A glimmer that dream jobs do exist. And the wisdom of years to know that maybe now I’m ready for one.
Here’s the list!
READING
To Do Lists.
WATCHING
YouTube Fireplace…
LISTENING
Instrumental Christmas Playlists. The Nutcracker is the shit y’all.
*This is the worst content list of all time. Embarrassing. *
Christmas is in ONE WEEK. What? In the world? After tomorrow, when we are reveling in the joy that is having seen so many friends and family at DeeJay’s, I am excited to relax and dive into my annual Christmas crafts.
Homemade gifts started as a financial necessity for me but have stuck around because I genuinely love the act of making presents for my people. I’m looking forward to binging something (maybe The Crown?) while baking and crafting. Should be a cozy week.
I hope yours is equally as cozy and satisfying. Merry Christmas if you celebrate. Peace and love to each and every one of you.
xoxo.
Okay I LOVE everything about this and wish I could be there tonight SO BADLY AHHHH!!!!!! I can’t wait to keep reading anything and everything you have to say about ANYTHING!
a BIG YAY for the entirety of this post, Boo! See y'all at DeeJay's...