Archived entries for Jennifer Crakow
Halfway Home
As frustrating as it was to be seeing Jennifer off again, it wasn’t as difficult as I had feared. While we’d only been together for a week, her return trip to Milan meant that mine was only three weeks away. We’d be together soon enough. No matter how difficult it was to contemplate another lengthy separation, as I told Jennifer, it felt like this summer’s upheaval was beginning to draw to a close.
For the last five weeks, Jennifer has spent all but one week traveling. Culminating her journey with a ten-day trip to China, she returned to San Francisco for a brief respite, before heading back to Italy to head up another project. This is, after relocating to San Francisco in mid-June, following nearly three months in Milan. Add in seven months in London prior, and voila. We’ve moved a lot in the past year.
The photo above was taken just before we returned to the US. Shot a couple of blocks away from our home, we were en route to our neighborhood park early on a Sunday morning, before Milan’s legendary summer heat would become too much for our dogs to handle. Think 95 Fahrenheit, with 80% humidity, for four straight months. Even a short walk to the grocery story leaves one drenched.
“It makes Tel Aviv feel like Iceland,” I joked to my father. While I still feel that way, (and Jennifer reports it feels even hotter), I’m really looking forward to putting the heat out of my mind, and returning home. As much as I love San Francisco, and have gotten an enormous amount out of being here, the only thing I can think about is returning to Milan, and getting a chance to hang out with my wife.
She Wears the Pants
We left the US seven months ago. Transferred to her firm’s new office in London, my wife had been tasked with helping build her San Francisco-based employer’s European presence. Having taken the job with the expectation of eventually being placed abroad, we were immensely gratified. We were leaving San Francisco, finally, as we’d hoped. Not just to Europe, but to London, with guaranteed employment.
Unfortunately, we never got to enjoy the UK. Departing during the second week of the credit crunch, (amidst a parallel meltdown within my wife’s company, no less), Jennifer’s firm completely destabilized. Unable to buy simple things like staplers and stationery, and provide monitors for the staff to work on, it appeared as though we’d made a terrible choice. We’d moved six thousand miles only to get laid off, or so it seemed.
That never did happen, though Jennifer and her colleagues came exceedingly close to being sent home. The fear of being shut down, however, never quite went away, and we spent six months with our bags unpacked, without any of our belongings, looking for a way out. Jennifer’s former boss did little to dissuade us otherwise, advising us to not ship our container into London upon its arrival in Southampton last November.
When Jennifer finally landed a new gig, in Italy, it was the first time we felt like we’d really arrived. Not in the metaphorical sense, but a literal one. Unlike many similar companies, the firm that hired Jennifer had the stability she was looking for, and had maintained an active European presence for over three decades. There was no new ground to break, or learning curve to master. Despite the horrible economic climate, this company still had its hands full. We could move to Milan in good conscience.
We’ve spent the last two weeks looking back on our past half-year, and marveled at how we managed to survive. Everything that could have gone wrong did. Everything that could be extrapolated about the collapse of the Anglo-American economy seemed to manifest itself in our lives. Though we bear no ill-will towards Jennifer’s former firm, we feel immensely relieved to be outside its troubled grip, and finally on dry land.
My wife’s determination to perservere, and to continue to enjoy a career she’s spent nearly two decades cultivating never ceases to amaze me. I know very few people who’ve stayed such a course, for so long. Jennifer’s strength and focus definitely saw us through. Even more amazing was her desire to remain abroad, and not return to the US, despite how bad everything is, everywhere. Sometimes, you know you’re right, irrespective of the circumstances. Jennifer’s conviction has always been its own reward. The rest is gravy.
Culture(s) of Domesticity
Behind the propaganda, four Thanksgiving pies cool down in our fridge. Notice the childhood picture of Jennifer on the left, followed by Skylar Nicolini Bertsch, Angus Young, and George Washington.
Sandwiched in between a commemorative 1977 peace process-themed Bezeq phone card (anchored by Jimmy Carter), Moshe Dayan, Elvis Presley, and an unidentified Bedouin all play supporting roles below.
Dig on the Jamaican currency hovering above the US dollar. That’s fifty Jamaican dollars, mind you. An identical bank note bought us one of the best dinners ever, on our honeymoon, in June ’06.
Numerology
This week, we celebrated our fourth anniversary. Not pictured: Jennifer stomping on the glass first.
Revolutionary Posturing
Every time we pass by the Alexander Rodchenko reproduction in our hallway (to Jennifer‘s left), it makes us want to dye our hair bright red and hold our heads up high.
Meet the Schalits
Every time we go to LA, we always end up at a party. Last weekend was no exception. Barely over my jetlag, we drove down last Friday to celebrate father’s day with Jennifer’s family.
Though I wish I’d been awake enough to snap a shot, the picture above, taken at a family event last year, is a reasonable substitute. The newlyweds, at Jennifer’s brother’s house in Atwater Village.