Unemployement -- enjoy it while you can...

I realize there is little reason why I should impress you with a blow by blow account of my daily routine. My life is quite obviously not that thrilling these days. The no-job/living-at-home thing doesn’t bode well for excitement, but I figure that if you’re reading this, you may be mildly entertained. Truth be told, would having a 9-to-5 job chained to my desk be that much more exciting? It seems like landing any kind of employment would justify everything, but really who wants to sit around all day snacking on M&M’s pretending to be busy so as to avoid an awkward confrontation with your passive aggressive boss who secretly monitors your every move from underneath his baseball cap (I used to work at an allegedly laid back place). Perhaps I’m overreacting slightly, but I certainly do not miss it. No full-time job means no routine schedule, which means FREEDOM! Then there’s the no-money thing, but you can’t have it all. But hey, I’m writing this on a plane to California for a few days. Word of advice to the unemployed, enjoy your freedom while you have it.

Enjoying while you can or profiter, as we say in French, is key during your “in between things stage.” I never really found the right translation for this word in English probably because Americans have no idea how to profite as the French do. How many families drink wine every night without fail in America? Unless they are French wannabies (which I totally understand) , not that many. My very French grandmother has recently told me that her daily wine – night and day—is her medicine and is what keeps her kicking. The French really do know how to live. Probably not the best place to jumpstart your career if you’re into that kind of thing, but what does that really matter? I would say profiter falls somewhere between “taking advantage of” and “luxuriating in.” Take advantage of it while it’s there, because it won’t be there forever, carpe diem!

And with that, I will attempt to describe a rather typical morning in the part-time-loser- unemployed-older-daughter’s life. Monday morning – ah, no alarm clock, no reason to wake up anytime soon, I can just sleep until I feel the urge to awaken, but that definitely won’t be for a while. Wrong. The all too familiar words of “sweet Caroline” somehow make it into my dream. I have found myself rocking away at a party to this song with some friends who I am seemingly very excited to be with, but am incapable of placing. “Bam bam bam” oh wait, that’s Olivier chiming away, is he at this party too? Ooooh, I get it, that’s right, it’s Monday morning and I’m in my bed at home.

This is how I wake up every morning. My brother has this thing with blasting corny music from his IPod speakers while he showers. Pretty soon someone will get electrocuted, but that doesn’t seem to stop him – he’s already fried his laptop this way (I wasn’t there to witness this, but I’m reminded of the scene in Groundhog Day when Bill Murray tries everything to kill himself, including submerging a plugged-in toaster in his bathtub to electrocute himself). When I express my fears, Olivier confidently retorts, “I’m still alive, aren’t I?” Oh yes, yes you most certainly are – not a day goes by where I am not reminded of it. Now you all know what really happened to me if this blog suddenly stops. No I definitely did not get a job. I was electrocuted by the IPod speakers. What an embarrassing way to go. Oh I shouldn’t have said that, now I’ve jinxed myself!

I manage to lull myself back into my dream, I was so happy there. Besides, it’s only 8:30 in the morning, way too early to be awake. Guess again Juliet. Olivier busts into my room (his chill-out lounge) fresh and ready for the day. As soon as he sees me luxuriating in bed, he exasperates, “Pffff, Juliet, how do you expect to get a job?” and proceeds to belly flop onto my bed. My eyes slit open, this guy is way too excited about life right now. “No one responds to emails at this hour,” I croak. Honestly, all I need to do is make the 2 second walk from my bed to the computer – it’s not like there’s a commute involved or anyone to impress. No need to waste time on trying to look pretty! Besides, my bed is way too comfortable to leave. I spent 7 months sleeping in discomfort on a rock-hard bed awakened at all hours of the night by Thai karaoke (it makes Western karaoke sound like a heavenly musical sound), roosters, dogs, cows, you name it. This is what I call catch-up-on-my-sleep time. Admittedly, “catch up time” has been slightly over-extended a few weeks, I mean months, but profite profite profite!

Alright fine. I should probably get up and get my life on track. Bla bla BLA. I emerge from my bed with my hair sticking up in all directions (I really should invest in some headbands). I roam downstairs to the kitchen on auto-pilot only to find that we are out of the only edible cereal. Awesome. In my daze, I don’t even notice my father sitting at the breakfast table reading the paper in his bathrobe. “What the hell are you doing here!?” I ask baffled. At 9:30 AM, I’m always the last to have breakfast. I certainly should not be spoken to at that hour either. “Nice! I just got back from Asia I’ll have you know. It’s called jetlag.” Ohhh right. I look disinterested. I’m secretly glad he’s here though. My papa and I deal with things radically differently (he thinks I’m crazy, I think he’s closed off), but inside, I believe we are very much alike.

I plop down in my chair and concoct a rather unappealing mixture of five different cereal leftovers dating god only knows old long. “So what are you up to today cherie?” Hmmm, what am I up to…? I guess I should be surfing career sites and writing cover letters. Would that be a productive way to spend my Monday? Absolutely not. News flash: there are no jobs. Sending a resume blindly through the internet rarely used to work, how could it possibly work now? No no, no job searching. I’m getting on a train and traveling far far away from Larchmont. To the city that is. And there I will have a long luncheon with my uncle’s wife (I’ve been forbidden to call her my aunt since she is a mere two years older than me) followed by a lecture on reiki at my grandmother’s apartment. Oh and I should probably get ready for my upcoming “vacation” to California. It is a tough life I lead, but we’ve already discussed my martyrdom so I will spare you. The bottom line is this: PROFITEZ DE VOTRE LIBERTE (enjoy your liberty!).

5 Best (and Worst!) Things About Moving Back in with Your Parents

I recently wrote this article for excelle.monster.com, which is a networking website for the "career-minded woman." Well, clearly living at home is not doing much for my career, but they seemed to think moving back home was worth hearing about. Please check out the article here. For the uncensored version (apparently my writing is offensive?) keep on reading!:

So you’ve just been laid off. Or maybe you’re a recent graduate who hasn’t found a job yet.

As if joblessness weren’t enough of a blow to your self-esteem, you find yourself with no other choice but to move back home – back to the place you thought you’d managed to escape from forever.

Let’s be honest, moving back home is nothing to brag about, especially if you’ve been independent for a while.

But you take the good with the bad. And there’s plenty of both.

#1 Best: The Price is Right

This one is a no brainer. It’s probably the reason you moved home in the first place (and if it’s not, what’s wrong with you?). Not only is living at home rent-free (at least we hope!), but the perks tend to be hard to turn down. Just bring out those puppy dog eyes, and Daddy usually cannot resist handing out a $20 (or two). I'll admit this one mostly for girls. But seriously, most of the time, parents can’t resist lending a hand.

So when it all gets to be a little too much, think about how much money you’re saving. Even if you’ve been asked to chip in a few hundred dollars a month, it’s a whole lot better than spiraling debt.

#2 Best: Roommates—Better the Devil You Know

We’ve all endured a horrible roommate experience at one point or another. Remember that uncomfortable feeling of not wanting to return to your dorm or apartment for fear of seeing your roommate who’s been hogging your food, trashing the place, or letting her terrifying drug-addict boyfriend all but move in? Not fun.

At least at home, you know what you’re getting yourself into. You’ve known these people your whole life. They may trash your bathroom and steal your clothes, but yelling at them is perfectly acceptable. And maybe this is the chance to reconnect with your baby sister who you last lived with when she was only eight? Moving home is also a chance to reconnect with your family members as an adult.

You may be spending a little too much time with them right now, but when you do move out, you’ll be happy you had this quality time to ground yourself.

#3 Best: Housekeeping? My Mom Does It All!

We’ve all gone through that messy college phase. And perhaps that phase is not quite over? For me, moving back home has brought it back, full force. Why? Because mommy dearest does all the cleaning and laundry, so why bother!? She roams the hallways armed with Windex and the laundry bag to make sure everything is spick and span.

Admittedly, she’s a little intense about the cleanliness. But I’d rather have that than a disgusting pile of dishes or a roach-infested kitchen college-style.

#4: Best: Mom’s Home Cooking

We’ve all craved for that home cooking when far away. Nothing feels more comforting than the aroma of a pot roast simmering in a garlic wine sauce. Well guess what – now I get that every day. And if you’re lucky (like I am), not only is it delicious and free, but it’s also healthy!

Coming home is a chance to start eating right and getting back in shape. No more binging on pizza every night while watching “So You Think You Can Dance” — instead, it’s a sit-down dinner with the fam. Sure, it might get a tad bit annoying as arguments erupt over everything from politics to cleaning the closets, but it sure beats lonely dinners on the couch.

#5 Best: A 24/7 Support System

Speaking of lonely… In college, you were surrounded by your dorm mates. But when you graduated and moved into a little studio in New York City or LA, it was a whole different story.

Move back home and you will never be lonely. ever. again. Your support system is always there, whether you want it or not (and trust me, sometimes I don’t!). Your mom’s nagging might be annoying at times, but enjoy it while you have it. These people love you and will support you no matter what. It's a chance to show them who you really are and test your boundaries on people who for better or worse are sticking around.

#1: Worst: Community Living = Zero Privacy

Ah—the romanticized notion of living en famille. It’s all fine and dandy when your family does things for you, but since when do you have to do things for them!? Come on now. You just got used to your independence, and suddenly you’re coerced into contributing to the family? Did my mom just ask me to do chores? I hardly even know what that means.

Pick up your sister here, buy milk there, drop this letter off on your way to wherever it is you’re going… the list is endless! What ever happened to me time? Even showers — which should guarantee at least a little alone time — don’t when your siblings are pounding on the door demanding urgent use of the bathroom.

#2 Worst: Regression

Moving back home can undo all those years of personal growth — at least temporarily. No matter how old you are, you’ll always be your parents’ baby. And if your parents are anything like mine, you’ll be expected to report to them on your whereabouts (this does not bode well if you are trying to impress a special someone: "Oh hi Daddy, I will be home at midnight). Suddenly you find yourself in the same vicious pattern of immaturity you haven’t been in since high school. Lashing out on your parents after you thought you’d finally reached a mature and civilized relationship with them? Yikes! Parts of your personality that you thought were deeply buried may now be resurfacing.

Soon enough you’ll be on your own again, and your grown-up self will come back. But in the meantime, get used to being 24 going on 14.

#3 Worst: Sibling Rivalry Resurfaces

You thought you were passed fighting with your siblings? That’s kid stuff, right? Wrong. Your annoying siblings are back and the nightmare continues – but worse. Now the little brother whom you used to bully is bigger, taller, and much stronger than you are. The little sister, who was the cutest little baby, is now a bitchy little teenager who only cares about shopping. You really are the only cool one in the household, why doesn't anyone else get that?

Pretty soon, you find yourself throwing cake in your brother’s face. You know you don’t actually care (it was a petty argument!), but you fight for the sake of fighting. Welcome home.

#4 Worst: You Lose Control over the Remote Control

Remember the good old days when you could come home after work and just veg out in front of TV watching your favorite show? Not anymore!

Your father probably refuses to miss his CNN nightly report, your mother insists on watching her Masterpiece theatre program, and your sister is obsessed with “Gossip Girl” (OMG). There goes your must-see TV. Here’s hoping it’s on Hulu!

#5: Worst: Dating Might Be on Hold Until You Move Out

You can probably kiss your dating life goodbye. Despite having to report your whereabouts to your parents while trying to seduce someone (embarrassing!), quite honestly living at home is just not sexy. If you’re really unlucky, you might even have meddling parents or siblings who grab your phone and respond to all incoming text messages. I don’t know about you, but my overprotective brother and father seem hell-bent on keeping my romantic interests away. Sometimes I feel like I’m back in the Middle Ages—how picturesque. And if you're a guy, well this may be even worse for you. You definitely cannot seduce a lady when coming home to "your place" means meeting the intrusive mother in her bathrobe on the very first night.


Turned off by moving back home? It’s not ideal but it won’t be the worst thing that ever happened to you. And you will move out at some point. Do not despair! This may be the chance to deal with that childhood fear you've been in denial of your whole life? Be what it may, coming home has its purpose. So take it for what it’s worth and enjoy the perks. Pretty soon, you’ll be out in the world on your own again, longing for the restful, rent-free days of yore.