Personal Mission Statement

I have an interview in, oh um, 34 minutes. Just a screen interview – but at Amazon.com, so that’s pretty exciting. Right now I’m researching the group I’d be working for and going through my list of “Top 100 Interview Questions” that I used when I was trying to interview before I found my last job. I filled all of the interview questions in – and it’s super interesting to read through what I expected or how I’d answer some of them. I’m definitely a bit more firm in my needs and wants in a job… last time I was just kinda throwing stuff against the wall in hopes that it’d stick.

I just came to question # 56, “What is your personal mission statement?” And this is what I’d wrote as my 24 or 25-year old self:

I want to live a life of no regrets. I want to love to my fullest, travel all the time, learn everything I can and excel in my career. I want to be happy. I want to get up everyday with a smile.

I really like that. I want to get up everyday with a smile. I need to hold fast to that personal mission and never lose site of it again.

Currently Feeling: Nervous. Duh! Even though it’s just a phone screen, I haven’t interviewed in a really long time.
Currently Anticipating: Bike riding this afternoon, even though the weather kind of stinks right now! Thankfully it’s supposed to get back up in the 80s this weekend.
Currently Reading: My Mother’s Lovers by Christopher Hope. (A Seattle Times Best Book of the Year!)

And so it goes

Reeling. Reeling plus moments of elation. Ever felt that?

I imagine there are a few BIG moments or changes in life when this happens. Moving to a new city for a job – elation because you scored a great position at a great company, reeling from the unknown. Marriage – elation because you’re marrying the person you love with every atom of your being, reeling because it’s TILL DEATH DO YOU PART, or a mucky divorce. Childbirth – elation because you have a little human in your hands that is 50% you and 50% the person you love, reeling because you have no.idea what it means to be a parent; what if you poke them with diaper pins, or cut their fingernails wrong?

Reeling. Reeling plus moments of elation. This is me right now.

I came into work yesterday with a 10 a.m. “touch base” calendar invite from my boss. A calendar invite with no details, the day after you just “touch based” on all your projects, is never good. I was sweating a little bit, knowing that I was probably getting a lecture of some sort for something I’d done wrong.

You never think it’s going to be you.

“This is really tough, budgetary cuts, it’s not performance based, blah, blah BLAH.”

Ladies and gents, step right up, welcome to unemployment. Yes, yes, I am part of the recent, ever growing statistic. It’s funny, one of the first things that went through my mind was, “Well this is a bad luck dress.” I’ll never put it on again without thinking, “This is what I was wearing the day I got LAID.OFF.”

Needless to say, my mind has been reeling.

Reeling from the financial instability. It’s scary to have your expendable income taken away. I spent yesterday canceling the frivolous – no more executive club gym membership (thankfully, the summer sun allows for jogging, bike riding and rollerblading outside), no more tanning membership (probably better for avoiding da cancer anyway). I looked in the mirror, and thought about how bad I need a color and cut, but just can’t justify it. Nor can I justify the pedicures. I’ve thought about all that I can sell and am planning to have that garage sale I was planning a month ago. I’m kicking myself over the last three pairs of shoes I bought, the bike, the books, the clothes, the jewelry. You always wish you had some sort of warning; maybe I’d been a little bit more frugal. I went to the grocery store yesterday, and it gave me a headache to analyze every purchase and put back items I wanted but didn’t really need. I have spent so long not thinking twice about money; it’s an adjustment, to say the least. I gave myself a stomach ache, calculating my severance and my 401K, minus my living expenses. I’ve already started pinching pennies – who knows how long this will last.

And then occasionally, I’ll go “OMG.I.DON’T.HAVE.A.JOB.” Will I have to move out of the fancy apartment I love and back home with my parents? Will I have to sell my car? How long will it last? I have to interview and apply for jobs again…right away… Right.Away. I have to update the resume…have to practice interviewing again…need to search job Web sites daily…

Reeling.

But then I get bouts of elation.

I DON’T HAVE TO GET UP AND GO TO WORK! NO MORE TGIFs. NO MORE BLAH MONDAYS.

That, to say the least, is just a little bit exciting. I never liked my job. I was doing some of what I wanted, but the position turned out to be completely different than what I thought it was going to be. I didn’t like my company, or what we stood for. (I can say all this now that I don’t have to worry about losing my job). I went from a global nonprofit, where my job was to run a program for villages in Africa, to a company that is driven by the bottom dollar, rich old white men, and working long days so our client – the broker – can make 15 million a year instead of 5. I had zero drive to stand behind the company. And I’ve realized this is something I need in a job. Not necessarily working for a nonprofit, but at least a bit of pride in my company’s product.

I had a boss that made it hard to get up in the morning. I was treated pretty bad. I left work in tears on numerous occasions; I had anxiety problems for the first eight months; I was scared of her temperament on a daily basis; I was micromanaged to the point where I was nervous every day – nervous that I’d forgotten about item 21 of 40 things to do. Sunday nights were always depressing to me because I was counting down the hours until I had to go back in. I was held under her thumb; I was supposed to do her expenses, call restaurants to make dinner reservations, make her flight arrangements, reserve rooms for her meetings, and grab bottles of water for her and the meeting attendants. I was not hired to be her personal assistant. Let me repeat. I was not hired to be her personal assistant. I felt like my level of education, and skill set in the market, was way beyond what the position ended up being after she lied about what it entailed when I interviewed and took the job.

I was not happy.

And now, I feel elated. Now I get to reclaim a bit of myself. I have had a job, solid, since I was 15. It was McDonald’s (yes, that was my first job, isn’t that awesome?), to waitressing, to being a receptionist at a salon all through college. I worked three jobs during the summer to save up for a two-month backpacking trip in Europe – delivering pizzas, scheduling perms for little old ladies and taking orders at a teriyaki joint where the non-English-speaking owner liked to stick his hands in my back pocket and lift me up in tight, bear hugs (Um, red flag?!). I worked commission-based at a clothing boutique in Seattle where I was in tears nightly because I had an outrageous sales quota to meet, hated pressuring girls to buy, and would get reprimanded each evening for not meeting the quota. The owner liked to tell me to stop eating cause I was a size 8 and their largest size in the store. I worked as a barista straight out of college until I landed my first “real” job at the nonprofit I mentioned above. I worked there for three years, until I transitioned into my last position.

I want. A few days. To myself.

And I want a lot of days with my best friend, who works an opposite schedule from me, and a lot of days with my other friends, who are also unemployed right now. (It’s happening to a lot of us). I want to sunbathe at beaches this summer, hike, read the looong list of books I have in the queue right now (more on that later). I want to rollerblade and bike ride during the day. I want to wear sundresses and flip flops every day. I want to wake up and make an egg scramble and a latte, and write and read blogs. I want to go in paddle boats, float rivers, drink beers, sleep in, stay up late, roast marshmallows at bonfires on the beach. I want.to.enjoy.my.summer. It’s so exciting, I can hardly stand it. I finally have had responsibility lifted off my shoulder for a short time. And I don’t have to feel guilty because the decision was made for me.

Unemployment – elation because I get to reclaim my life for a bit, spend my days doing only what I want to do and find a job I love, reeling because I have a lifestyle I’d like to keep, and I have no idea how long this will last.

Currently Feeling: A little nervous to go back in and clean out my desk.
Currently Anticipating: Lake Chelan this weekend for my BFs work trip!
Currently Loving: Trader Joe’s new fat free frozen yogurt, with a few berries sprinkled on top.

A Happy Place – but I’m not talking Ronald or chicken nuggets

I need to find my Happy Place… I don’t have one. Am I the only one?

My boyfriend often talks about his Happy Place – the beach. When he was little, his parents went through a bad divorce when he was in elementary. Someone told him that he needed to figure out what his Happy Place was and go there when he couldn’t sleep or things were bothering him… In our relationship he’s mentioned his Happy Place a couple times – a place he goes when he shuts his eyes to let all the bad feelings and stress of the World escape.

The more I think about this concept, the more I realize I could really use a Happy Place. I feel that as each day, month and year goes by, life becomes increasingly more complicated. There’s a reason why adults always say, “Enjoy it while you can!” Or why my friends and I reminisce about the “carefree” days of college. Sure you had a whole three or four classes to attend and subsequent tests and assignments for each, but that’s nothing compared to rent, deadlines, empty savings accounts, bosses, bills, increasing fat rolls, wrinkles and grey hair…

For me, the majority of my stress lies in my little ole 9 to 5. Sometimes I get myself into such a whirlwind at work that I feel the only answer is leaving to curl up in a ball under a rock, otherwise known as my bed, never to come out. This is one of those days. Have you ever felt so stressed that your mind just kind of freezes, and although you have approximately 1 million things you should be doing, you can’t seem to wrap your head around any of them?

This is when I need to close my eyes and picture…

*Blank* ?!?

I try to think about what my Happy Place might be.

A place?
A person?
A time frame?

If it is, in fact, one of those three items, does that make me UNhappy because I’m not in that place, or with that person, or in that time frame anymore? If my Happy Place is a place, then why don’t I live there permanently? Will it still be my Happy Place if I live there day to day?

See – I try to think about a Happy Place and all the details of being happy or UNhappy stress me out.

Do you have a Happy Place?

Currently Feeling: So much healthier.
Currently Anticipating: SO excited to go home tonight and do the 30-Day Shred DVD!! NOT.
Currently Watching: Vicky Cristina Barcelona.

Goodbye Corporate America, Hello Office on the Beach!

SO, I’m applying to The Best Job in the World. Have you heard of it yet?

It’s real! It’s real! It’s not even one of those Internet scams…

Apparently, Australian tourism hatched a scheme to protect their 8 billion dollar industry – tourism – from THE.RECESSION. They are hiring one candidate for a six-month contract to fly to the Great Barrier Reef and discover “what the area has to offer.” You’re instructed to explore, snorkel, swim and then all ya gotta do is blog about it with some entertaining words, photos and vlogs. (Oh, and a little fish feeding, pool cleaning and mail collecting). The person who is hired will be paid $150,000 and a plain ticket from their home country to Queensland, Australia.

For reals?! Yep. I’ve checked it out, and even though the Web site is up and down due to the overload of traffic, the job announcement is all over the news sites, and those running the program are even following their applicants on Twitter. (Now that’s smart recruiting).

Kiss my grits!

So, I’ve started to brainstorm a bit about what my video application might be. (60 seconds or less) to tell them just how amazing, eloquent and charismatic I am. (Perhaps I should avoid the booby shaking from my recent video), BUT, I have become quite skilled as a back-up dancer lately, so that might be an option…

Any suggestions?

Wow. It’s like I’m young enough to apply to Real World all over again! (And they say life is over at 25). Pshaw!

Currently Feeling: Zippity doo dah.
Currently Anticipating: My Moroccan birthday dinner tonight with my parents, boyfriend and bestie. Sunday is the BIG celebration!
Currently Loving: The new wine glasses my coworker bought me with a little chalkboard on the front, so I can write my name, my mood or something fun on my glass!

Miami, in the heat

I believe I owe a few of you an update on Miami…

I was in Miami last week from Wednesday through Saturday night, which I’ve been catching-up from ever since. (Lame way to excuse myself for not blogging). Going to Miami was the first time I’d been on an all-expenses paid work trip. I think it’s something I could get used to. And, I might feel less restless in Seattle if I had a way to get out of town that didn’t rely on my general bad money management. (But that’s a whole ‘nother can of worms, my friends).

The hotel I stayed at was tip-top. It’s really odd, however, to stay in a hotel room by yourself. I kept thinking about all the friends who could be sipping cocktails with me on the patio, or you know, other people who might enjoy the king-sized bed. But, once the oddness wore off, I quite liked padding around my hotel room in the luxurious robe, spreading my makeup ALL OVER the counter and my clothes ALL OVER the floor, watching TLC, naked in the feather bed (it’s HOT in Miami), or ordering room service to eat naked in the feather bed while watching TLC and thinking about how glorious it is to not have to clean up my makeup or clothes. It was like a mini 20-Something break from the entire roar that is my constant day-to-day life. (Not that I’m complaining).

Even better—while I was in Miami for work, I barely had to actually do any work. Other than a few trips to pick-up last minute details (tequila shooters for the prize wheel), a few marketing dinners, and the three-hour tradeshow on Friday, I generally found myself with a bunch of free time to a) lie by the pool or b) watch cable in my feather bed, which are really the only two ways I spent my free time.

I have to embarrassingly admit that I skipped out on any and all sightseeing or bar hopping while there. I don’t know—it just didn’t seem right. Like I had my 20-Something Work Hat on, and I didn’t really feel like doing some of the shenanigans I get myself into in front of people I have professional relationships with. But, they all seemed fine with going out with each other and tried to drag me out every night. Even if I did have my 20-Something Party Hat on, I don’t think I could have pushed through the lethargy that enveloped me after the three-course+ dinners we had each night.

On that note, however, I would LOVE to go back with friends. I was very impressed with Miami. We stayed in South Beach, which was warm, beautiful and clean with shops, fancy restaurants and swanky bars within walking distance. It was like Mexico but without all the things I don’t love about Mexico. I would definitely like to go back some day.

Oh, and did I mention we won “Best Booth”? Icing on the cake.

Currently Feeling: A tiny bit sad.
Currently Anticipating: Oktoberfest in Leavenworth this weekend.
Currently Dreading: Taking the bus home tonight. Wish I could fly.

Gettin’ Jiggy with It

I’m heading to Miami today through Saturday as an accumulation to a two-month project I’ve been managing at work. I’m both very excited and a little nervous, one because I’ve never been to Miami, the weather is supposed to be a balmy 87-degrees, and I’m staying in a fancy schmancy hotel on Miami Beach. Two because Friday will be the event that I’ve spent countless hours planning for. Here’s hoping it all goes down without a hitch. *fingers crossed*

Each year, my work has a conference for all our branches, networks and affiliated businesses. My coworkers have described it as “an adult Halloween party” where every booth tries to make a better party than the next. Without any event-planning experience under my belt, my boss put me in charge of all the details–theme, decorations, food & drink, prizes, games, music, etc. But, that’s all the fun stuff. Then there’s all the crap–packing and shipping boxes, understanding drayage rates, handling and labor laws at tradeshows, the ins and outs of printing vinyl signs and assembling them, working with booth decorating companies, managing and staying within a budget, ordering drape, piping and electricity, etc. It’s been a learning process, to say the least. I’m nervous I’ve let something slip through the cracks. We shall see. At the very least, I know the definition of a good party. (Thank you college!)

That being said, our booth is Jimmy Buffett’s Margaritaville. It will be decorated with island store fronts, parrots, real palm trees and tropical plants, sand, etc. We’re serving margaritas and mini sliders (in honor of Buffett’s “Cheeseburger in Paradise” song). Our booth will be on the only booth with music playing over loudspeakers (a special Buffett and Luau mix I made from an old Hawaiian party in college), and we’ll have a prize wheel with tequila shooters and Caribbean hermit crab races. (I’m very interested to see what the hec those are all about.)

It’s been a lot of work, but it should be fun. Wish me luck!

Currently Feeling: A little nervous energy. Could be the coffee.
Currently Anticipating: Pool time!
Currently Dreading: Riding an airplane. I hate them!

Totally Backwards Perfectionism

Yesterday I totally rocked a presentation that I’d spent countless hours preparing for–in the office until 7 p.m. Monday, working from home till 10 p.m., then back in the office the next morning at 7 a.m. I felt that in some ways, I out-shined myself, and it feels really great. I’m finally making a name for myself on my team and breaking through those first, tough three months on the job. For me, it’s been kind of a bumpy ride.

Something I’ve come to know about myself is that I’m a ridiculous perfectionist, but in a totally backwards way. Such as–I can go a couple months with dark roots, my toenail polish is often chipped, my room looks like a hurricane went through it, my cars are always in a various stage of progressing disarray, and too often I let myself indulge in pizza and beer, which eventually turns into a totally-not-perfectionist type belly.

But, when it comes to my personal work and job–I’ll break my back to put out the best product I could possibly EVER do. I’ve been like this since 3rd grade when I created posters with glitter, made cupcakes and dressed up for my book reports when most kids sat in front of the room with half a scribbled page of notebook paper.

Sometimes this work ethic of mine is really great; sometimes it’s exhausting. I don’t know if it’s exactly healthy to worry yourself into a frenzy about screwing up or doing something wrong… but occasionally it all pays off.

In celebration, I’m going to spend a totally stress-free weekend to myself. My team has been given Friday off, so the three-day weekend has now turned into four (yippee), and for two of it, I’m heading to Orcas Island for a solo camp trip with my boyfriend. We’re staying at a little camp/cabin resort on the beach with crabbing, clamming, fishing, kayaking, canoing, whale watching, beach bonfires and a hot tub. I’m quite looking forward to it. (And I’ll pick up my party ways in a couple weeks for the End of Summer bash we have planned at Lake Chelan–seven campsites and approximately 30 friends. Stay tuned.)

Currently Feeling: Need. To. Get. Back. To. Gym.
Currently Anticipating: Getting this pro bono copywriting thing over with. Yuck.
Currently Reading: “More Thank You Know,” by Beth Gutcheon. Oh my gosh. So good, so good, so good! It’s a little love, a little mystery and a lot of ghost story. I can’t put it down!

Mmm Mmm, I Love Me Some Social Media

I freakin’ love any Presidential hopeful who is involved in social media to this degree:

Hi, [20-Something].

Barack Obama (BarackObama) is now following your updates on Twitter.

Check out Barack Obama’s profile here:

http://twitter.com/BarackObama

Best,
Twitter

I read a number of articles on how Obama has a Twitter page and regularly updates it, so I decided to follow good ole’ Obama and the above is the e-mail I received back. It’s slightly intoxicating to feel like you could be this close to having a President hear your voice, even if they are just “tweets,” and I’m one of 64K+ that he’s following.

Oh, and I freakin’ love any job that lets me get this close to Social Media, which I’ve become increasingly more and more obsessed with. I’ve been finding and researching this Social Media stuff (hence learning of Obama’s Twitter page) all week for a presentation I’m giving next Tuesday. Looks like I’ll be heading all Social Media Initiatives for [insert my company name here]‘s North American markets in 2009 – from the grassroots level up. If that’s not a good resume builder, I don’t know what is.

Onward and upward to that dream job!

Currently Feeling: Ready for the weekend!
Currently Anticipating: Getting caught up since I don’t have too many pressing plans for the weekend.
Currently Wishing: I could see results RIGHT. AWAY.

Joggin’ Along to Jerry Springer

Holy balls. My gym’s downtown location is amazing.

I finally remembered to bring my workout gear today for a little lunchtime work out session at the Executive Club location of my gym – three blocks from my work.

I recently searched for a gym with locations that I could easily access from home and from work. So, I was eager to jump at joining my new gym when they told me that since they cut back their fitness classes at my neighborhood location, I could pay their membership fees ($40 a month), but could also go to their Executive Club location downtown without paying the membership dues for it ($70 a month).

Hot diggity damn. Boy did I luck out. The Executive Club location downtown is fAAA-nCY. The locker rooms have a steam room, private showers, ironing board, steaming wand, etc. The third floor has cardio equipment, free weights, a rock climbing wall and “Winter Garden Room” with a patio for lunches. The workout rooms have big, etched glass doors with brand new equipment and personal TVs on the treadmills. And, there’s a full spa and intermittent lounge areas with leather couches and flat screen TVs throughout the gym and locker rooms. My favorite part though—there’s a huge, private “women’s only” workout room with cardio equipment placed on the perimeter, so you can people watch all the downtown crazies, and free weights, machines, etc., so you can pump iron without feeling shy in front of the boys.

Today on the treadmill I watched, “The Secrets of Hollywood’s Hottest Cougars,” on VH1 where I learned that “the ultimate hoo-hoo rehab” is “vaginoplasty.” And I even caught a couple minutes of Jerry Springer, which I haven’t watched since early college. Do you know that they now do, “Sesame Springer”? It’s Jerry Springer, but with muppets dressed up as the guests, and the muppets act out the guests’ stories.

So, not only did I get a fantastic workout during lunch today, but I also now have zero-faith in the human race.

Currently Feeling: Snacky.
Currently Anticipating: Sunshine after work today. Perhaps a jaunt around Greenlake?
Currently Loving: SmartFood popcorn with white cheddar popcorn seasoning.

Nerd Alert

Last week I had my portrait taken for my job. You know that dorky company photo that everyone is going to view in the employee directory, including Bob McFarlin in Saskatoon and every other random I work with all the time, but will probably never meet face to face with? (I always look up people when I work with them, just to see if my impression matches their photo. I know you do it too.) Well, in my first impression, I don’t want to have dark roots, be pale or chubby looking. After all, I’d hate for people to have the reaction that I have when I open some people’s directory photo. I could laugh for days at some of those… endless and cheap entertainment, I tell ya.

I haven’t had my portrait taken since like, well, 1999 to be exact—the spring before senior year of high school. But even those were full-body shots in street clothes. Not these dorky head and shoulder shots in business attire. I have to admit; I was more than a little portrait-taking out of practice. The photographer was super nice, but kept shouting, “I’ll make you look years younger! Now, massage the sides of your smile, it will make you look years younger! This lighting will make you look years younger!” I’m not exactly sure how old he thought I was, but yelling at me that his fantastic photography skills were going to make me “look years younger” didn’t exactly put a smile on my face.

Geez buddy, I’m only 26. What are you promising? Middle school regression?

And here I am:

Precious. Just precious, I tell you.

Currently Feeling: Blah all the time for no explainable reason.
Currently Anticipating: Mini golf and brewskies.
Currently Reading: “Everything is Illuminated” by Jonathan Safran Foer.