Everything happens for a reason.

That is such a cliche, but I totally believe it.

Back when I was weighing two job offers--one full-time with benefits, but in New Jersey; the other a long-term freelance contract in New York--I opted for the gig with health insurance and a 401(k), even though I was more excited by the New York gig. How bo-ring of me, right?

Now it seems that, for once, my practicality has paid off, as the New Jersey gig has since moved back to New York and the Web site of the freelance gig just shuttered.

But I guess hindsight is always 20/20, huh? (Hey, they're cliches for a reason.)

Decisions, Decisions

Earlier today, I was lamenting to my neighbor about how life always seems to present two opportunities at the same time and of course the pros and cons of those opportunities always negate one another, therefore not making the decision process any easier.

I know you're waiting for some insight here, but it's not coming.

So seriously, what is up with that? And FYI, the response "because life is not fair" has already been taken by my father.

Conflicts of Interest

Two articles on the Times web site today particularly interested me and it wasn't until I was flipping between one and the next that I realized how starkly different, yet interconnected, they are:

The first, "Five Basics for Building a Solid Financial Future," caught my eye because I’ve been thinking that, oh, I don’t know, maybe I should start accumulating grown up things like health insurance and a retirement plan once I’m back. The columnist writes:

Few employers want us around for 40 years, so our income is likely to have ups and downs and disappear altogether for brief periods between jobs. Saving for retirement is now mostly our responsibility, too. Health insurance, for those of us who have it and manage to keep it, requires increasingly large amounts of money out of our pockets. The list goes on and on ... Given the stakes, it is hard to avoid the persistent low-grade fear that we have made wrong choices or cannot find the right ones, even though they are out there somewhere.

The second, "Chasing Utopia, Family Imagines No Possessions," profiles a successful young family from Austin, TX, who are donating everything they own to live a simpler life off the land in Vermont, a current fantasy of mine. (They are, of course, not going so simplistic that they can’t blog about the experience.) The Times dubs this part of "the voluntary simplicity movement" that started so, so, long ago, in the 1980s:

"The idea in the movement was 'everything you own owns you,' said Dr. Grigsby, who sees roots of the philosophy in the lives of the Puritans. "You have to care for it, store it. It becomes an appendage, I think. If it enhances your life and helps you do the things you want to do, great. If you are burdened by these things and they become the center of what you have to do to live, is that really positive?"

Methinks not.

There's a great appeal in this idea, chiefly because it's such a great excuse for the sorry state of uninsured and quasi-unemployment I'm in right now. So, in the course of reading these two articles, which essentially totaled the time it took to drink one cup of tea, I’ve decided to eff it all and become a socialist, as money is the root of evil. Must be the current Spanish administration rubbing off on me.

Hi!

We haven't forgotten about you, dear readers, it's just that we're in the midst of 20 straight days of visitors, with whom we've been traveling around Spain; plus our bosses still expect us to work during the week--if you can believe that audacity--so please forgive the sparsity of posts as of late. The good news is, all of this has produced a wealth of material--that is, once we have the time to actually write for fun. In the meantime, here's the lazy blogger's antidote to too much going on, with too little time: a listicle of recent happenings.

• If you're traveling at all in the next few months, you might want to make sure you arrive at the right terminal or even that your chosen airline still exists.

• I've got a new blogging gig, turning celebrity hijinks into valuable parenting lessons. Check it out and comment--just don't mention that I don't have children.

• You can get a little insight into my Andalusian travels by reading some of my recent posts on HotelChatter. Come next week, not all hotels will have fared so well in their reviews.

• Speaking of HotelChatter, the site was just acquired by CondéNet, the online arm of CondéNast. I wonder: Does this now make me a Nastie, once removed?

All work and little pay makes Jenn an angry girl.

Ed. note: This is my last whiny media-related post, I swear. Well, at least for a while anyway.

It ain’t easy freelancing. Those of you who are successful at it, I salute you, because honestly, I do not know how anyone can earnestly earn a living at it anymore, given the inconceivably crappy pay days I’ve come across as of late.* To wit, a recent smattering of compensation rates I’ve been unfortunate enough to actually click through to: $15 for 300 word articles, $20 for 300-500 word articles, $25 for 500+ words. Granted these are small articles, but it only gets more pathetic as the word counts get higher. I want to tell these people, are you effing kidding me?! And I rarely use exclamation points, so when I do you know I mean business.

And you know whom I blame for this rapidly descending pay rate? Bloggers. (Oh, the irony.) Those scores of wannabe writers who link to their blog posts as writing samples and will take any rate at the sake of having been published somewhere other than their self-fashioned web site. And you know what I want to say to these people? This “hobby” that you’ve taken up as a way to obtain some fulfillment that lacks in your career as a human resources manager—which likely pays you $80,000+ annually—is detracting from the fulfillment I’m striving for, namely, being able to, oh—I dunno—buy an apple every now and then.

The fact that I went to school for four years laboriously learning how to construct a lede, the time I spent debating the use of series versus Oxford commas, means nothing. Basically, I spent thousands of dollars learning a craft that you’ve managed to destroy with the advent of Blogger/Wordpress/Typepad et al.

God help me if Tumblr really takes off.

OK. Rant. Over.

*Chris, Gina, Ysolt, this post is in no way directed at any of you. Your regular use of my skillz helps me pay the billz, yo.

Who am I? Where am I going?

After reading Sam Kashner’s article in Vanity Fair, “Here’s to You, Mr. Nichols: The Making of The Graduate,” I’m totally crushing on Mike Nichols.

The quotes provided by the 76-year-old director made me laugh and contemplate things in a way that only a rich man who’s had the time and the means to reflect on life can. My favorite (and the article’s penultimate) quote is: “There’s nothing better than discovering, to your own astonishment, what you’re meant to do. It’s like falling in love.”

Sweet, non? It also reminds me of part of the reason to I came to Spain: to find what I guess would be my second calling, as my passion for writing slowly fades. (Yes, at 28, I’m burnt out. I’m over the competitiveness of the publishing world, the countless unrecognized résumés and seeing so many hacks get ahead, especially now that anyone with a blog can call themselves a writer—linkage company at right excluded.)

You see, the last time I spent a long period of time abroad, in England, I went thinking I would return home and become a kindergarten teacher. I always loved writing, but teaching was more practical (hey, that word again!) and just as underpaid, heh. Instead, walking the same streets and learning in the same classrooms as of some of my most favorite writers uncontrollably reignited my passion for pen and paper, and so, here I am.

And now, I’m almost right back where I started eight years ago, wandering the streets of some foreign city and waiting for inspiration, for that realization to strike, however corny and clichéd the whole idea may be.

At the time Nichols controversially cast Dustin Hoffman in the lead, he was reading Henry James’ “The Beast in the Jungle,” about “a young man who lets life and love pass him by while he waits for a cataclysmic event to transform him.” I plan to pick this book up on our next trip to the English-language bookstore; it certainly sounds apropos.

Image: Patricia Lin

Bizzaro World

"The first year and especially those first few months can be really isolating. Sometimes just getting out for a cup of coffee can be the most entertaining thing of the day."

That's a source I recently spoke with for an article. She was talking about having a baby, but I think it also speaks well of going freelance. Does this mean I'm ready to be a mom now?