December 2001"Up until now, the worry has been relatively non-existent."
by Valerie Carino
...
Up until now, the worry has been relatively non-existent. We secured the
church. We reserved the reception site. Damien's mother, Eileen, has taken
on the huge task of sorting out everything else.
But now we're up against a new challenge, and that is moving to a different
city.
I always - we both knew, actually - that we would eventually leave Florida.
It was an inherent part of the deal when I came back to Tampa to be with
him. Unfortunately, while our love moved to new heights, my career took a
downturn when I had difficulty finding full-time work in journalism. Let's
just say Tampa, for its lush landscape and enviable weather, isn't the place
to be a writer.
So we're leaving. In the beginning of January. To the Windy City.
A few months ago, odds appeared favorable that I was going to land a gig
with a high profile investment company in downtown Chicago as a mutual fund
analyst. I had two interviews, but they cut me loose in the end, saying that
while I wrote well, I lacked the experience necessary for the job.
While some people might have given up then, Damien and I were still both
psyched to go, and took the rejection as a sign to keep the plan alive.
Of all the times to leave, certainly this would be among the craziest to go.
The economy is as jittery as ever. I have a few job leads, freelance and
full-time, but nothing definite. Damien doesn't have work either. And to go
at the start of the bitter winter, we must be nuts.
But we figure our odds, especially mine, couldn't be any worse in a big city
than here, where news and culture take a back seat to going to the beach and
watching Bucs games. It amazes me the number of people I've met recently who
didn't even know we are in a recession.
Second, the pay for my field is better in the North. Sunshine may fill the
soul, but it certainly doesn't pay your bills.
I have the fortune of having lived in Chicago, and knew the city would be a
perfect fit for Damien. First, it's an Irish loving town. They dye the river
green on St. Patrick's Day, for Christ's sake. Not to mention when we visited
earlier this spring, he met at least 10 new Irish (as in Irish Irish, not
Irish American) the first night. Loads of Irish equals lots of opportunity
for Damien.
It's not pretentious, and not as large as New York, which was overwhelming
and too fast for him. In Chicago, people eat sausage, drink beer, dance, go
to museums, love sports, listen to jazz, sing the blues, say hello and keep
up with the rest of the world. And you can order a 22-ounce steak there and
no one thinks twice about it. How cool is that?
And perhaps most important, we both have friends there. Good, close friends
whom we can call for rides from the airport or in the middle of night if we
need anything. That always counts when you're nesting in a new city. I know
it certainly helped me when I came to Tampa at 22, anxious about how I'd
fare as a reporter.
As for the wedding, we obviously had to move the date forward - to Oct. 19,
2002. That's only three months from the original date, which gives us more
time to save and relax. I'm also planning an April trip to Ireland to see my
best friend, Niamh, in Dublin who'll be traveling down to Croom with me to
pick flowers and visit the reception site, church and tuxedo shop.
In the meantime, I'm sure I'll hear "Do you know how cold it is in Chicago?"
at least a million more times.
And to those folks, I'll just smile and say, "It's not like I have to work
on my tan."
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