I'm not quite sure how to begin this blog. I thought I'd tell you about my travels for job interviews, but they all happened so fast. Before I'd had a chance to start sharing stories of interviews, I'd already gotten an offer I couldn't refuse. And it had only been a few weeks since that heartfelt goodbye, when Nicolas had sent the cats and me off into the tail end of the bomb cyclone blasting New York.
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| The end of an era: saying goodbye to a decade of life in Europe (and also, temporarily, to my husband!) |
The cats, by the way, handled the trip magnificently. No accidents, even after the three hours we spent taxiing and another two before they were removed from the plane following a trans-Atlantic and all the security that had preceded it. So much maternal pride.
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| Despite not being overly fond of their travel conditions (see photos on left), they handled the trip magnificently well and enjoyed a very tight snuggle when finally reunited on the final car ride home from Newark Airport. |
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| The cats settled into life in America quickly, especially once they discovered squirrels. |
Well, if I couldn't take this blog through the journey of my job hunt (not complaining about how fast it went!), at least I'd open it with an amazing story about the project I dove into. You, dear reader, would never guess who I'm working for. But guess is what you'll have to do. I actually can't say more. No, seriously.
This much I can say: I'm now based in San Francisco— I can't believe my luck— and I have found myself somehow working for a guy who mentored me back when he was a postdoc and I was a freshman/sophomore at MIT.
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| Me. In San Francisco. Because I live here! |
And our boss, the head honcho, is about as big as they come in the world of cutting-edge tech. I have landed in the heart of neurotech. Oh, and every morning, I wake up to this view:
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| This view is too perfect, I'm dying. All it's missing is an Eiffel Tower. |
I still can't get over my new life. I pretty much spend every waking hour doing what might possibly be the coolest project I will ever be paid to do. My colleagues are brilliant and motivated, and I just hope that I can keep up.
But it's not all fun and games. I submitted my application to sponsor Nicolas's green card as soon as I accepted my job, in the first week of February. That set off the clock... the 9-12 month clock. For now, Nicolas and I are stuck nine time zones apart, living very separate lives. WhatsApp and Skype are our life lines.
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| The daily call and response: I miss you. I miss you too. |
Even the kitties are far away, crashing with my parents until August, by which time I should have more settled living arrangements.
I just survived the loneliest birthday I've ever known. I thought it would be an interesting challenge to get through the day without announcing myself to my colleagues (and also, how weird is it for the new girl to tell everyone she's special?), but in the end I was surprised to find the experience even lonelier than actually being alone.
There are weird downsides and stresses to my new job and the return to America. For one, I was very concerned to appear too effeminate in such a casual and male-dominated culture. It took me a week to brave a pair of heels, and a month to test out a dress at work. Luckily, I've recently found an ally in another new hire who's a big fan of dresses. And secondly, in a start-up, you need to ensure that you are constantly proving yourself to be invaluable. In between mastering my own project, I'm still trying to get to know other people's work, both to learn the ropes and to quietly map out areas where my skills may be needed. And then there's the relationship building. Squeezing the impromptu happy hours in between some wild work hours can make the job sometimes feel like acrobatics. (Speaking of which, I've just joined an acro studio!) Sometimes it's important to remember to smile, or just breathe. Luckily, both are progressively becoming more natural.
That said, I'd assumed it would be tougher to transition back to America. Not only does it feel surprisingly natural (though I've been told that's just the international climate of San Francisco), but I have an impressively rich set of friends from many stages of my life, despite never having previously lived in the city. I never have to spend a weekend alone if I don't want to, even outside of the hours I'm with my colleagues at work on weekends.
Having dove straight from Europe into the heart of Silicon Valley start-up culture, it's hard to find a new balance. And my body is only too happy to remind me that I'm not a 22-year-old grad student anymore should I test my limits in sleep deprivation. And on that note, given the hour, good night!
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| Good night, San Francisco |
