I have decided to reread this book. I read it the first time about 2007 or so, and remember being very inspired, but I did not actively put the book to practice as it so clearly recommends. Nonetheless I found my life improved by it. Maybe not drastically so, but improved.
Now I want to try again. As the book recommends, I am reading each chapter twice. I hope I have the perseverance to finish this way of reading it. I have a tendency to let things go, and not in a good way!
The first task I am working on is to not criticize people. This is a hard one for me. Although I am a kind and friendly person, I criticize people all the time. Not to their faces, of course (...cuz I am kind and friendly, remember? I just said that, geez, get it together!) but in my head. It's pretty constant, too. Depending on my environment, it's a cacophony of seething, relentless, spiteful and degrading commentary. "You're such a brand snob," "You're not really working, you are just on FB," "No one cares about that band," "You don't like that style of pants because you have no ass," "Wow, you really are not that intelligent."
Yeah. It's bad. I have my work cut out for me. See the things is, although Dale Carnegie talks about verbal criticism, (and I do this as well, but not nearly as often) it's clear to me that ANY type of criticism is toxic, and my ability to develop sincere appreciation for the people I come into contact with (which is the next chapter of the book) is severely hampered when I am constantly criticizing them in my head.
Why do I do this? Why does anyone? Do we really pay attention to our inner dialogue, do we ask ourselves where that inclination, that habit of judging really comes from? Do you look at people, strangers and friends, and judge them all the time, or do you compare yourself to them and find yourself lacking? I am working on finding the root of my own tendency to do this, and in the meantime, I am going to practice eradicating criticism from my heart, mind and from my dialogue. I will let you know how it goes.
Monday, September 29, 2014
Wednesday, September 03, 2014
Laterblog: Torture of Smell
To the right of me, a woman eats delicious smelling pastries filled with gluten. My mouth waters. I long for the feel of moist (yes I said it), flavorful muffins and toasted bagels with cream cheese.
To my left, a man who keeps stepping out for a smoke.
These are my smells for duration of this conference. Stale cigarette smoke on a man's hands and clothes, and fresh pastries. This is a new form of torture.
I used to eat pastries and smoke cigarettes with the abandon of a teenager. Heck, I was a teenager for some of the time.
Now, in my 30s, both are forbidden to me, and one is stinky and gross and the other smells like heaven.
Sigh.
When will this conference be over?
To my left, a man who keeps stepping out for a smoke.
These are my smells for duration of this conference. Stale cigarette smoke on a man's hands and clothes, and fresh pastries. This is a new form of torture.
I used to eat pastries and smoke cigarettes with the abandon of a teenager. Heck, I was a teenager for some of the time.
Now, in my 30s, both are forbidden to me, and one is stinky and gross and the other smells like heaven.
Sigh.
When will this conference be over?
Things I find interesting
I lived in Minnesota for 18 years. I have now lived in Chicagoland for 18 years. Interesting!
During my time here, several people I know have moved from Chicago to Minnesota. Interesting!
Many of these people have, at one time or another, been a decently good friend of mine, but at the time of their move, the friendship had drifted (amicably) apart. Interesting!
Every once in awhile, I go home to Minnesota to visit family. Not so interesting. When I do, these people come out of the woodwork. "Let's hang out for old time sake!! It will be soo fun!!"
I have to say no, because my very short calendar is already full with family events, and speedy catch-ups with childhood friends. I think in my mind, "Too bad, that would have been fun!" I even feel a little guilty. One of these friends in particular tries really hard to make me feel guilty and sad for saying no to her.
Then, inevitably, some period of time later, I see on Facebook that they have been visiting Chicago. Having all sorts of fun. Hanging out with friends, visiting family. I have not been asked by them to hang out. (Their calendar is full!) But why then, do they work so hard to make me feel guilty for doing the exact same thing when I come home?
Hmmmm. Human nature. The nature of lack of perspective. The nature of forgetting. The nature of self-centeredness. The nature of humans. Interesting.
During my time here, several people I know have moved from Chicago to Minnesota. Interesting!
Many of these people have, at one time or another, been a decently good friend of mine, but at the time of their move, the friendship had drifted (amicably) apart. Interesting!
Every once in awhile, I go home to Minnesota to visit family. Not so interesting. When I do, these people come out of the woodwork. "Let's hang out for old time sake!! It will be soo fun!!"
I have to say no, because my very short calendar is already full with family events, and speedy catch-ups with childhood friends. I think in my mind, "Too bad, that would have been fun!" I even feel a little guilty. One of these friends in particular tries really hard to make me feel guilty and sad for saying no to her.
Then, inevitably, some period of time later, I see on Facebook that they have been visiting Chicago. Having all sorts of fun. Hanging out with friends, visiting family. I have not been asked by them to hang out. (Their calendar is full!) But why then, do they work so hard to make me feel guilty for doing the exact same thing when I come home?
Hmmmm. Human nature. The nature of lack of perspective. The nature of forgetting. The nature of self-centeredness. The nature of humans. Interesting.
Friday, June 20, 2014
Already halfway?
It's been a busy year, dear interwebs.
I have a new job. I have a new pair of sunglasses. I have a new perspective. I also have coffee breath.
Which is funny because I don't drink coffee.
I have a new job. I have a new pair of sunglasses. I have a new perspective. I also have coffee breath.
Which is funny because I don't drink coffee.
Chomp Chomp!
I have a co-worker who chews with aplomb. Because I love my job, and I
like the people sitting in the general direction from which this noise erupts, instead of frustration or irritation, I merely find the loud chomp chomps mildly amusing. On a day like today, after a week with little sleep, a trying train commute that involved lengthy delays, and a canceled fun weekend hanging with a friend, I am on the verge of slaphappy belly laughter. Make me laugh...it will feel like the release this body needs. More than crying, I want to laugh.
Saturday, May 24, 2014
Sing like no one is listening
As I sit outside the practice room listening to the lesson going on inside, I wonder what others will think when it's my turn, when I am the nameless, faceless voice on the other side of the door.
She sounds like an angel as she aahhhhs and alleluhas her way to the heavens, a true operatic professional. When I first came here about 10 months ago, I was terribly dismayed by the lack of sound proofing in this place. You can hear everything! I thought. What if someone hears me and hates it? The realization that I wouldn't have to see their faces out here in this hallway as I belted and cracked inside was a little comfort at least. But then again why am I even here? Certainly not to become some amazing singer who'd one day undoubtedly have a top selling album. I am here to fight my demons. Moments from now, I will enter that room to battle fear of judgment, I will battle the fear of failure and I will battle myself, my own cruelest judge and worst enemy. I come here to get stronger. I come here to remind myself that life is too short to get bogged down by being worried or scared that someone will realize or assume I'm flawed, or not good enough. The truth is, I am flawed, and at many things, I am not good enough. But that is no reason not to try and certainly no reason not to be happy doing things that bring me joy, like singing.
She sounds like an angel as she aahhhhs and alleluhas her way to the heavens, a true operatic professional. When I first came here about 10 months ago, I was terribly dismayed by the lack of sound proofing in this place. You can hear everything! I thought. What if someone hears me and hates it? The realization that I wouldn't have to see their faces out here in this hallway as I belted and cracked inside was a little comfort at least. But then again why am I even here? Certainly not to become some amazing singer who'd one day undoubtedly have a top selling album. I am here to fight my demons. Moments from now, I will enter that room to battle fear of judgment, I will battle the fear of failure and I will battle myself, my own cruelest judge and worst enemy. I come here to get stronger. I come here to remind myself that life is too short to get bogged down by being worried or scared that someone will realize or assume I'm flawed, or not good enough. The truth is, I am flawed, and at many things, I am not good enough. But that is no reason not to try and certainly no reason not to be happy doing things that bring me joy, like singing.
Saturday, April 12, 2014
Ode to Monica, or, Why I am happy to be cycling again
It's interesting, isn't it, how the things you remember from childhood sear the insides of your brain well into adulthood, but when spoken aloud to a friend or stranger, those things never sound as dramatic as they felt at the time? As you try to convey your past trauma to a listening ear, you wonder why their faces don't reflect the horror of your story, so to elicit a stronger reaction you begin to use more and more drastic descriptors, until you realize that the story you are telling no longer in any way reflects reality, or truth, but you soldier on because what is important is that the person you are telling your story to realizes that YOU HAVE SUFFERED.
That is how it generally goes with my childhood stories of woe, especially the one about the time I failed to learn how to ride a bike until the ripe old age of 8, or was it 9? All drama aside, my brand new adopted family thought it was very strange that I did not know how to ride a bicycle. Though the details of how I actually learned to ride are hazy, I remember a couple of key points. One, I was significantly older than my twin was when he learned, and two, I learned that MOST children learn at the age of 6, so clearly I was well behind the curve. That said, my parents set out to teach me with determination.
Learn I did, and thankful I was, when that yellow and red banana bike carried me solidly down the block and back again without the aid of training wheels or Dad's arms pushing me along. I could now be just like everyone else. When, at some short time later, I was given the lovely yet used 3-speed bicycle as my very own, I was pleased and honored. I was shown how to adjust the speeds and sent on my merry way for an inaugural ride around the block.
Pedaling was hard, though. I pressed down with my legs and still did not move very fast or go very far. I lived on one of those blocks that no matter which direction around it you biked you would have to go uphill at least once, and that first trip around was really exhausting. Different, I remembered, from the banana bike I learned to ride on. I actually stopped to catch my breath several times when I was on the other side of the block, but not before glancing around in fear. If my brothers saw me I would not hear the end of it. When I came around the corner and insight of the family again, I pushed on, with every muscle in my legs straining, and I was determined to not let them see me struggle.
I suspected there was something wrong with my bike, and I said as much to my parents but I was dismissed immediately. "She's just unused to riding, is all," they said.
We went out on a family bike ride and the whole time I struggled and puffed and pushed and still could not keep up with them. I felt humiliated and ashamed and unfit. I think I may have suggested again that there was something wrong with my bike, but I was dismissed and ignored. It got so I did not want to ride any more. I was told that I was lazy and the general consensus seemed to be that there was something wrong with me since I did not like to go outside and play and ride like everyone else in the family.
Finally, a couple of years later, someone else tried riding my bike and realized that it was broken. Had been broken the whole time.
Then, for my 12th birthday, I got a brand new red 10-speed, I jumped on it with glee and instantly became the world's most avid cyclist. I went everywhere, fast, and I loved it. I became defined by my bicycle. We went on a 50-mile bike trip once, and I was so proud. She came with me to college and we spent many a lovely year together, that is, until some thieves decided to have their way with her. They were not successful in stealing her because they couldn't bust the lock, but they vandalized and tore her apart. I was devastated. For graduation later that year, my parents kindly donated my Mom's old bike. I never told them this, but I refused to ride her at first. I was too loyal to my red beauty, though she'd been months in the grave.
But soon pride turned into acceptance, and need pushed me back on the bike seat. I was again biking everywhere. Fast. It got so I was biking downtown CHICAGO to and from my job at the restaurant. Even on Saturday nights when the drunks were out. Now that I am typing this, I realize what happened next was bound to happen. I lost my fear. I became comfortable. Then I was hit by a car while biking. Luckily for me it was not serious. A big bunch of bruises and a bent bike frame is what happened. I think the young lady and mother who caused the accident probably ended up suffering PTSD given how traumatized they seemed after it happened. I guess I would be too if I were behind the wheel of something that essentially is also a murder weapon. But gosh, all this was in 2002 or 3. It's literally been that long since I have owned a working bike.
Certain things kept me from moving forward, from buying a bike. Sometimes it was money, sometimes seasons, timing....but mostly I think it was fear. Not the fear of dying or something like that, but fear that I would find something had changed, been lost. You see, for me, biking, being able to ride, is like my own personal victory from childhood. It was the shame I overcame in order to learn to ride at a "late" age, it was the validation and vindication I received when it was realized that I was not too weak or lazy to ride, that my bike was simply broken. It was my escape and it was the part of my identity that taught me I had more ability and capacity than I thought I had. And in adulthood, it still stood for freedom..being able to ride.
So I guess I was afraid of having lost myself, ironically, by not moving forward, buying a bike, I did lose myself. But now, I am found again.
Monica is my beautiful, used, Trek road bike. She goes with me places. She let's me fly again! I am so grateful to have her in my life. We came together late summer/early fall of 2013, when I began to write this post. I had to give her a winter hibernation, but today was our first 2014 trip together and it was lovely. Tomorrow I think I will bike to the forest. I am so happy.
That is how it generally goes with my childhood stories of woe, especially the one about the time I failed to learn how to ride a bike until the ripe old age of 8, or was it 9? All drama aside, my brand new adopted family thought it was very strange that I did not know how to ride a bicycle. Though the details of how I actually learned to ride are hazy, I remember a couple of key points. One, I was significantly older than my twin was when he learned, and two, I learned that MOST children learn at the age of 6, so clearly I was well behind the curve. That said, my parents set out to teach me with determination.
Learn I did, and thankful I was, when that yellow and red banana bike carried me solidly down the block and back again without the aid of training wheels or Dad's arms pushing me along. I could now be just like everyone else. When, at some short time later, I was given the lovely yet used 3-speed bicycle as my very own, I was pleased and honored. I was shown how to adjust the speeds and sent on my merry way for an inaugural ride around the block.
Pedaling was hard, though. I pressed down with my legs and still did not move very fast or go very far. I lived on one of those blocks that no matter which direction around it you biked you would have to go uphill at least once, and that first trip around was really exhausting. Different, I remembered, from the banana bike I learned to ride on. I actually stopped to catch my breath several times when I was on the other side of the block, but not before glancing around in fear. If my brothers saw me I would not hear the end of it. When I came around the corner and insight of the family again, I pushed on, with every muscle in my legs straining, and I was determined to not let them see me struggle.
I suspected there was something wrong with my bike, and I said as much to my parents but I was dismissed immediately. "She's just unused to riding, is all," they said.
We went out on a family bike ride and the whole time I struggled and puffed and pushed and still could not keep up with them. I felt humiliated and ashamed and unfit. I think I may have suggested again that there was something wrong with my bike, but I was dismissed and ignored. It got so I did not want to ride any more. I was told that I was lazy and the general consensus seemed to be that there was something wrong with me since I did not like to go outside and play and ride like everyone else in the family.
Finally, a couple of years later, someone else tried riding my bike and realized that it was broken. Had been broken the whole time.
Then, for my 12th birthday, I got a brand new red 10-speed, I jumped on it with glee and instantly became the world's most avid cyclist. I went everywhere, fast, and I loved it. I became defined by my bicycle. We went on a 50-mile bike trip once, and I was so proud. She came with me to college and we spent many a lovely year together, that is, until some thieves decided to have their way with her. They were not successful in stealing her because they couldn't bust the lock, but they vandalized and tore her apart. I was devastated. For graduation later that year, my parents kindly donated my Mom's old bike. I never told them this, but I refused to ride her at first. I was too loyal to my red beauty, though she'd been months in the grave.
But soon pride turned into acceptance, and need pushed me back on the bike seat. I was again biking everywhere. Fast. It got so I was biking downtown CHICAGO to and from my job at the restaurant. Even on Saturday nights when the drunks were out. Now that I am typing this, I realize what happened next was bound to happen. I lost my fear. I became comfortable. Then I was hit by a car while biking. Luckily for me it was not serious. A big bunch of bruises and a bent bike frame is what happened. I think the young lady and mother who caused the accident probably ended up suffering PTSD given how traumatized they seemed after it happened. I guess I would be too if I were behind the wheel of something that essentially is also a murder weapon. But gosh, all this was in 2002 or 3. It's literally been that long since I have owned a working bike.
Certain things kept me from moving forward, from buying a bike. Sometimes it was money, sometimes seasons, timing....but mostly I think it was fear. Not the fear of dying or something like that, but fear that I would find something had changed, been lost. You see, for me, biking, being able to ride, is like my own personal victory from childhood. It was the shame I overcame in order to learn to ride at a "late" age, it was the validation and vindication I received when it was realized that I was not too weak or lazy to ride, that my bike was simply broken. It was my escape and it was the part of my identity that taught me I had more ability and capacity than I thought I had. And in adulthood, it still stood for freedom..being able to ride.
So I guess I was afraid of having lost myself, ironically, by not moving forward, buying a bike, I did lose myself. But now, I am found again.
Monica is my beautiful, used, Trek road bike. She goes with me places. She let's me fly again! I am so grateful to have her in my life. We came together late summer/early fall of 2013, when I began to write this post. I had to give her a winter hibernation, but today was our first 2014 trip together and it was lovely. Tomorrow I think I will bike to the forest. I am so happy.
Tuesday, September 03, 2013
A good run
It's that moment when your feet hit the pavement and you find the right pace, that moment when you begin to feel like you can run forever because the wind is at your back, the road before you is wide open, and for some reason, a body out of practice yields a strength and endurance you think it has no business possessing...it's in that moment, that you feel like you can do anything. And you can.
Thursday, August 29, 2013
Confirmation
I have struggled to explain, articulate, clarify the feeling I have had brewing in my soul these past few weeks/months. I still am struggling, and at some point, it is my hope to be able to put it down on paper in as eloquent a way as possible. Now is not that time.
But I need to say something. I need to see it manifest through the tips of my fingers, to help draw shape and form to emotion, because soon, very soon, I anticipate a call to action on the very things in my heart that I can barely contain at this moment.
Let's call it confirmation. Let's call it light after 35 years of darkness. Let's call it joy in the face of defeat and strength in the face of weakness. Let's call it, I don't know....my every hapiness and confidence returned.
A lot of things have fed into this moment, this growth. Greenlake this year was perhaps the tipping point, where I was asked to do something that in as many years as I have been alive would have triggered abject shame, fear and self-hatred, but instead showed me how far I have come to finding what everyone else has known all along. My friends can thoroughly attest to my struggles and my barriers, and I wish I could write the very moment down of triumph for you to experience as well, but to do so would be to overshare and divulge, when I am looking to maintain my boundaries, even to an audience as minimal as those who read my blog.
My career path is finally being validated, my strengths are revealed and I know where I am starting to go and it is all very exciting. Other things will happen, good things. I am looking forward to them all.
Monday, June 03, 2013
The Awkwardness of Laughing at Death
So, as a former sales person, reporter, waitress and current producer, I have learned well the varied nuances of communication and listening skill that enables me to do my job well. I am not always very good at communicating or listening, but suffice it to say, if I set my mind to it, it can be done.
I am also very aware of my failings, my nervous fillers and bullshit fillers and in general, my go-to fall back phrases, that for the omniscient observer, or really intuitive friend, indicate that I am either NOT listening as well I should be, either because I don't understand something, it is hard to hear, or I have boldly and perhaps ignorantly decided that what you are currently saying has no bearing on what I need to move forward. I am a deeply flawed individual, my friend. I am working on it.
Sometimes I laugh to fill in the space, other times I say 'oh wow'. This has become an unfortunate habit with my current task of speaking daily to health and safety professionals who work in an indsutry where fatalities are very real. It is not uncommon for me to receive an email that states "I apologize, I cannot send XYZ because we are investigating a fatality that happened yesterday." And it is serious. And sobering. And yet, several times now I have been in conversation with these professionals and inadvertantly laughed. AT THE WRONG TIME. When they are talking about death. They have not yet seemed to mind, but I hope I can get that horrible habit of mine fixed before it's too late.
I am also very aware of my failings, my nervous fillers and bullshit fillers and in general, my go-to fall back phrases, that for the omniscient observer, or really intuitive friend, indicate that I am either NOT listening as well I should be, either because I don't understand something, it is hard to hear, or I have boldly and perhaps ignorantly decided that what you are currently saying has no bearing on what I need to move forward. I am a deeply flawed individual, my friend. I am working on it.
Sometimes I laugh to fill in the space, other times I say 'oh wow'. This has become an unfortunate habit with my current task of speaking daily to health and safety professionals who work in an indsutry where fatalities are very real. It is not uncommon for me to receive an email that states "I apologize, I cannot send XYZ because we are investigating a fatality that happened yesterday." And it is serious. And sobering. And yet, several times now I have been in conversation with these professionals and inadvertantly laughed. AT THE WRONG TIME. When they are talking about death. They have not yet seemed to mind, but I hope I can get that horrible habit of mine fixed before it's too late.
Thursday, May 30, 2013
I really wanted to talk about why people irritate me but that would be a really useless and soul-limiting thing that would not benefit me or anyone....
So instead I will talk about how much I hope that my African Violet plant recovers from the neglect of my half-hearted love and eventually blooms flowers again.
Right now we are at the point where I have eliminated the leaves that were yellowing and I have her at my desk so that I remember to water her regularly instead of not regularly.
I coo and coddle her with my mind (instead of my words, to avoid crazy looks from my worker neighbors) and let her know with my eyes how much she is loved.
It is possible she will remember with bitterness her time in the office window over there, where I could not see her, and where the old adage came true, 'Out of sight, out of mind.' I kept forgetting to water her, and even setting Outlook reminders on my calendar could not remedy the drought that was her bed.
I thought I was doing her a favor, giving her unencumbered access to sunshine, but according to the internet, she doesn't need that much sunshine after all, and can exist just as well on my desk under the flourescent lights as she can over there, out of my line of sight.
She is looking good, albeit a little sparse. Her bed of dirt is moist, and her leaves are green. I love her. I was a bad parent for awhile. But, God-willing, that shall change.
Right now we are at the point where I have eliminated the leaves that were yellowing and I have her at my desk so that I remember to water her regularly instead of not regularly.
I coo and coddle her with my mind (instead of my words, to avoid crazy looks from my worker neighbors) and let her know with my eyes how much she is loved.
It is possible she will remember with bitterness her time in the office window over there, where I could not see her, and where the old adage came true, 'Out of sight, out of mind.' I kept forgetting to water her, and even setting Outlook reminders on my calendar could not remedy the drought that was her bed.
I thought I was doing her a favor, giving her unencumbered access to sunshine, but according to the internet, she doesn't need that much sunshine after all, and can exist just as well on my desk under the flourescent lights as she can over there, out of my line of sight.
She is looking good, albeit a little sparse. Her bed of dirt is moist, and her leaves are green. I love her. I was a bad parent for awhile. But, God-willing, that shall change.
Sneaky Google
I really hate the way that Google has latched itself on to all these things like youtube and blogspot. I used to have passwords for these things that were specific, unique, safe and, most importantly, MEMORIZED.
But one by one any site that I use that is now inextricably linked to Google has at point or another confused me so thoroughly that without realizing it, I changed my passwords to my favorite and most used sites, inadvertently created at least three new accounts, and I am now completely unsure which NEWLY COMPLICATED password I have set for myself for a variety of sites.
(insert swear word here) Google!
Oops. Did I mention I am super sleepy and cranky today?
But one by one any site that I use that is now inextricably linked to Google has at point or another confused me so thoroughly that without realizing it, I changed my passwords to my favorite and most used sites, inadvertently created at least three new accounts, and I am now completely unsure which NEWLY COMPLICATED password I have set for myself for a variety of sites.
(insert swear word here) Google!
Oops. Did I mention I am super sleepy and cranky today?
Sunday, April 14, 2013
List of Things I Don't Want to Do the Night Before Taxes are Due
1. My taxes
Oh.
That's pretty much it.
Oh.
That's pretty much it.
Just wondering
Is it acceptable to respond to people on dating websites the way you would in person?
Or, because it is a dating website, do you have to be all strategic and selective? Generally speaking, in the real world, if someone says "Hey!" I say "Hey," and if someone says "What kind of cheese do you like?" I say "Gouda!" Or something like that.
But here, oh god, here......in the interwebby world of romance...
I feel bad talking about some of the guys who approach/contact me...which is why I haven't. But every once in a while a guy who is decidedly younger than my preferred range of age will send me a message. And sometimes...he will send me LOTS of messages before I have decided whether or not to respond....and I just want to say..."Hey Kiddo!" and leave it at that.
Just.... "Hey Kiddo!" and see what they say.
When they seem nice, and fairly attractive, I feel compelled to respond.. But what I actually do is check their profile, check FB, then go wash dishes.
I did meet a fantastic guy in the real world and he seemed into me but after a few days of silence on his end, I have to conclude that he was actually NOT into me. Good thing I didn't do anything humiliating like show up on his doorstep with a dozen roses. Get really drunk and leave a thousand messages on his phone like "Why! Whyyyyyyyhayhayaeyeyuh haven't you called me?"
Yep. I am totally well-adjusted and handle rejection well. (Lemme just go toss out these wilting roses...just kidding!)
Or, because it is a dating website, do you have to be all strategic and selective? Generally speaking, in the real world, if someone says "Hey!" I say "Hey," and if someone says "What kind of cheese do you like?" I say "Gouda!" Or something like that.
But here, oh god, here......in the interwebby world of romance...
I feel bad talking about some of the guys who approach/contact me...which is why I haven't. But every once in a while a guy who is decidedly younger than my preferred range of age will send me a message. And sometimes...he will send me LOTS of messages before I have decided whether or not to respond....and I just want to say..."Hey Kiddo!" and leave it at that.
Just.... "Hey Kiddo!" and see what they say.
When they seem nice, and fairly attractive, I feel compelled to respond.. But what I actually do is check their profile, check FB, then go wash dishes.
I did meet a fantastic guy in the real world and he seemed into me but after a few days of silence on his end, I have to conclude that he was actually NOT into me. Good thing I didn't do anything humiliating like show up on his doorstep with a dozen roses. Get really drunk and leave a thousand messages on his phone like "Why! Whyyyyyyyhayhayaeyeyuh haven't you called me?"
Yep. I am totally well-adjusted and handle rejection well. (Lemme just go toss out these wilting roses...just kidding!)
Tuesday, April 09, 2013
Is this what you think of me?
I told a co-worker that I went on a date the other day and she began asking me all about him. I told her how we met (at a wedding) and how the date itself transpired (brunch and a walk by the river), and without missing a beat, she asks me if he was single.
Is he single? As in, did I just go on a date with a married man? Or are you interested in dating him?
Either way.....really?
I mean, wait, no......really?
Is he single? As in, did I just go on a date with a married man? Or are you interested in dating him?
Either way.....really?
I mean, wait, no......really?
Thursday, April 04, 2013
Packing Dilemma
I hate that every single dress I own (which is a modest 9) has been ruthlessly showcased on FB because my stupid friends think every meal or outing has to be immortalized (which is fine) and publicized (which is less fine).
It makes actual special events, like one's father's birthday, hard to pack for. I begin to wish I had a new dress, I begin to contemplate buying one, I begin to justify the not-planned-for, added stress to an already stressed out budget, I begin to imagine being able to fit in a trip to the mall between the warmly anticipated brunch date (am I paying for that too since I asked him?) and the actual surprise birthday dinner.
Social media makes fashion hard.
And clearly keeps me up past my bedtime.
It makes actual special events, like one's father's birthday, hard to pack for. I begin to wish I had a new dress, I begin to contemplate buying one, I begin to justify the not-planned-for, added stress to an already stressed out budget, I begin to imagine being able to fit in a trip to the mall between the warmly anticipated brunch date (am I paying for that too since I asked him?) and the actual surprise birthday dinner.
Social media makes fashion hard.
And clearly keeps me up past my bedtime.
This happened....just now.
Came home.
Threw on a favorite pair of sweats.
Thought to myself:
UGH.
GROSS.
WHAT HAPPENED? (Must be that burger you ate)
MUST HAVE GAINED FIVE POUNDS.
WHY DO THESE FEEL WEIRD ON MY THIGHS AND TUMMY?
IT'S YOUR FAULT, I say to me.
I shrugged it off and checked FB. I told myself I would get off FB in just a few minutes, but an hour went by. I finally got up to wash dishes. I still have to pack tonight. I sank into the couch and checked FB again. WHY AM I LOOKING FOR A DISTRACTION? NOTHING IS HAPPENING ON FB.
I stood up.
Reach my hands for my pockets. Only to realize these dang sweatpants are on backwards.
Switched back, feeling fine and somewhat chagrined at how mean I am to myself.
#workingonthat
Threw on a favorite pair of sweats.
Thought to myself:
UGH.
GROSS.
WHAT HAPPENED? (Must be that burger you ate)
MUST HAVE GAINED FIVE POUNDS.
WHY DO THESE FEEL WEIRD ON MY THIGHS AND TUMMY?
IT'S YOUR FAULT, I say to me.
I shrugged it off and checked FB. I told myself I would get off FB in just a few minutes, but an hour went by. I finally got up to wash dishes. I still have to pack tonight. I sank into the couch and checked FB again. WHY AM I LOOKING FOR A DISTRACTION? NOTHING IS HAPPENING ON FB.
I stood up.
Reach my hands for my pockets. Only to realize these dang sweatpants are on backwards.
Switched back, feeling fine and somewhat chagrined at how mean I am to myself.
#workingonthat
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
"The earth is but one country-mankind, it's citizens."
In my ever growing certainty that the concept of "us v. them" is poisonous, and should be eradicated from our mindsets as human beings, I share with you an important piece of learning from my job today.
It is yet another sign, or evidence, in my mind, that the teaching and influence of Baha'u'llah is wafting over all of mankind unbeknownst to us.
In reading background research about improving safety in the workplace today - for an Health and Safety in Mining Conference I am putting together - I read that one of the keys to increasing interpersonal trust (and improving safety) in the workplace is by minimizing the "we-they" mentality....oh really???
No kidding.
Employers can make this happen by promoting the following "C" words in themselves and others:
Communication
Caring
Candor
Consistency
Commitment
Consensus
Character
It even talks about consensus in ways that sound eerily like the pre-requisites for consultation from the Bahai Writings.
Super awesome. Why can't everyone learn this stuff??
It is yet another sign, or evidence, in my mind, that the teaching and influence of Baha'u'llah is wafting over all of mankind unbeknownst to us.
In reading background research about improving safety in the workplace today - for an Health and Safety in Mining Conference I am putting together - I read that one of the keys to increasing interpersonal trust (and improving safety) in the workplace is by minimizing the "we-they" mentality....oh really???
No kidding.
Employers can make this happen by promoting the following "C" words in themselves and others:
Communication
Caring
Candor
Consistency
Commitment
Consensus
Character
It even talks about consensus in ways that sound eerily like the pre-requisites for consultation from the Bahai Writings.
Super awesome. Why can't everyone learn this stuff??
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
Operation Edit #2
I have a confession to make-I have not really been working on this at all. But I am starting to now. 2004 is halfway done. Then on to 2005.
What's interesting about reviewing your own thoughts are seeing the ways in which you have changed, and the the ways in which you haven't. It's very humbling.
Cheers!
What's interesting about reviewing your own thoughts are seeing the ways in which you have changed, and the the ways in which you haven't. It's very humbling.
Cheers!
Friday, February 15, 2013
When Positive Positioning Doesn't Work
You know, I have been in sales/customer service pretty much nonstop since 2001.
I've learned some things. What I haven't learned is whether some of the strategies and sales approaches that are used have names or whether there is a 'sales language' that is used for teaching sales tactics.
I have only read one book (it was awesome) that was indirectly about being a good salesperson and to be honest, I have always abhorred the idea of identifying as a salesperson. I mean, they are a bunch of greedy manipulators right? Actually, some of them are upright, moral citizens who possess strong values. Some of them.
I am not in sales now. But everyday I come into contact with others on their individual career paths and learning curves and let me tell you, after 12 years or so, I feel strongly compelled to guide the misguided.
It's conceited of me, I know. And in most cases, I refrain from speaking, knowing the futility of giving unasked-for advice to strangers. But then I remembered that I have this blog. So maybe here is a space to get it all out.
Just maybe.
The other day I was visiting America's Best, which has been my eye vendor of choice for the last three years, namely because they are nearby and have a $99 'membership' deal that offers discounts on products and 'free' eye exams for three years. For some reason, I thought my three years were up, and because I am trying to save money for a few months, I decided to wait until closer to summer to get my annual eye exam and order a 6-month pack of contact lenses.
Glasses on girls are hot, after all. I don't mind rocking 'em out for a few months until beach volleyball season.
But I got a call from the store last week-my three year membership was actually ending in a few days. Quickly I checked my budget-if I can get that 'free' eye exam, I may just be able to order those lenses now instead of later, and just not worry about it for another 6 months. So I set up the appointment for the following day.
The exam went well. My prescription changed only slightly, lowered, in one eye. The young woman handling the order for my lenses was so bright and sunny and happy, but as she tried to enter my order into the computer it soon became apparent there was a problem. It was her first multi-focal lens order and she didn't think she knew how to enter it into the system. After some time, and help from a manager, it turned out that the brand of multi-focal lens that I needed had been removed from their ordering system, accidentally. A similar lens to mine had been discontinued, hence the possible mix-up.
So I was going to have go home without placing an order. They would call me the next day to easily sort it out. Would I still qualify for the discount afforded by my membership since, through no fault of my own, I was unable to order my lenses that night? Why YES, said the manager, he insisted on it.
When I got the call the next day, from a different manager, I was told that my preferred brand was on back order (not discontinued) and would not be available until May. I could go with a new brand, or just wait and maybe try some sample lenses until then. I was then told that they would be able to waive my exam fee.
Over the course of the next few days I was told this countless times. When I ordered my contact lenses, my exam fee would be waived. But I just had an exam, and it was 'waived'. Or rather, three years ago, I paid $99 and hence every exam in that time period did not come with any additional cost.
As you may well know, eye doctors only require you to get an exam every 12 months, so I would not NEED an exam for another year. When I pointed that out to them, they told me that when I ordered my lenses, my exam would be waived. It didn't make a lot of sense, since I was clearly ordering my lenses well before a need to have another exam.
But wait, I wondered, is there something I can do right now that will save me money? They clarified that the club membership was $99, whereas just an exam (without membership) was $79. So did that mean if I paid $20 right now, my membership would be renewed for another 3 years and I wouldn't have to pay the $79 when I needed another exam in 12 months?
No, she said. You would still have to pay that. We went back and forth for awhile where I tried to determine just what she was talking about. Until it occurred to me what was happening.
See I know how to deliver information in such a way so that my client or potential customer thinks they are saving money or getting a deal, when in fact, they are just getting what we offer to begin with. If I have a potential client who is looking to secure an exhibitor-level sponsorship but feels cautionary about the $9K investment, I tell him that as a bonus, we will give him the attendee contact list, which is something we only give to the silver-level and above sponsors. But really, they all get the attendee contact list. It means nothing to us, but can be a lot of potential revenue to them. But positioning it like this makes it feel like they are getting something unique and special.
Some people would consider this lying. Or withholding information to use as a tool (weapon?) to cause a desired outcome. It only works if your potential customer isn't aware of all the potential benefits available to begin with.
I have decided this strategy should be called Positive Positioning. Maybe there is a name for it already or maybe I heard that once somewhere but don't remember. You manage the emotions of the client in such a way as to more successfully or quickly close the deal. As an astute sales person, you are much more likely to be successful using this tactic if you can adequately read your potential client, and discern what they know and understand about the transaction.
With AB, the deal is, you pay $99 and for the following 3 years every exam is free and you have a discount on your eye products. Pretty straightforward. If you do not want the membership, the exam is $79 dollars.
There is no getting around that. Yet over the course of many conversations in the span of two days, the employees I spoke to kept saying they could 'waive' my exam fee.They did not seem to understand that what they were saying did not make sense, which was funny, and baffling to me. Kudos to the company for trying to capture business more effectively...but guys?....I'm not stupid.
(On a side note, it is entirely possible that I am the dense one and there is something about this special deal that I was missing, despite my intense efforts to clarify what was being communicated. I am humbly welcome to being corrected-but either way-positive positioning can be a valuable tool if you do it right.)
I've learned some things. What I haven't learned is whether some of the strategies and sales approaches that are used have names or whether there is a 'sales language' that is used for teaching sales tactics.
I have only read one book (it was awesome) that was indirectly about being a good salesperson and to be honest, I have always abhorred the idea of identifying as a salesperson. I mean, they are a bunch of greedy manipulators right? Actually, some of them are upright, moral citizens who possess strong values. Some of them.
I am not in sales now. But everyday I come into contact with others on their individual career paths and learning curves and let me tell you, after 12 years or so, I feel strongly compelled to guide the misguided.
It's conceited of me, I know. And in most cases, I refrain from speaking, knowing the futility of giving unasked-for advice to strangers. But then I remembered that I have this blog. So maybe here is a space to get it all out.
Just maybe.
The other day I was visiting America's Best, which has been my eye vendor of choice for the last three years, namely because they are nearby and have a $99 'membership' deal that offers discounts on products and 'free' eye exams for three years. For some reason, I thought my three years were up, and because I am trying to save money for a few months, I decided to wait until closer to summer to get my annual eye exam and order a 6-month pack of contact lenses.
Glasses on girls are hot, after all. I don't mind rocking 'em out for a few months until beach volleyball season.
But I got a call from the store last week-my three year membership was actually ending in a few days. Quickly I checked my budget-if I can get that 'free' eye exam, I may just be able to order those lenses now instead of later, and just not worry about it for another 6 months. So I set up the appointment for the following day.
The exam went well. My prescription changed only slightly, lowered, in one eye. The young woman handling the order for my lenses was so bright and sunny and happy, but as she tried to enter my order into the computer it soon became apparent there was a problem. It was her first multi-focal lens order and she didn't think she knew how to enter it into the system. After some time, and help from a manager, it turned out that the brand of multi-focal lens that I needed had been removed from their ordering system, accidentally. A similar lens to mine had been discontinued, hence the possible mix-up.
So I was going to have go home without placing an order. They would call me the next day to easily sort it out. Would I still qualify for the discount afforded by my membership since, through no fault of my own, I was unable to order my lenses that night? Why YES, said the manager, he insisted on it.
When I got the call the next day, from a different manager, I was told that my preferred brand was on back order (not discontinued) and would not be available until May. I could go with a new brand, or just wait and maybe try some sample lenses until then. I was then told that they would be able to waive my exam fee.
Over the course of the next few days I was told this countless times. When I ordered my contact lenses, my exam fee would be waived. But I just had an exam, and it was 'waived'. Or rather, three years ago, I paid $99 and hence every exam in that time period did not come with any additional cost.
As you may well know, eye doctors only require you to get an exam every 12 months, so I would not NEED an exam for another year. When I pointed that out to them, they told me that when I ordered my lenses, my exam would be waived. It didn't make a lot of sense, since I was clearly ordering my lenses well before a need to have another exam.
But wait, I wondered, is there something I can do right now that will save me money? They clarified that the club membership was $99, whereas just an exam (without membership) was $79. So did that mean if I paid $20 right now, my membership would be renewed for another 3 years and I wouldn't have to pay the $79 when I needed another exam in 12 months?
No, she said. You would still have to pay that. We went back and forth for awhile where I tried to determine just what she was talking about. Until it occurred to me what was happening.
See I know how to deliver information in such a way so that my client or potential customer thinks they are saving money or getting a deal, when in fact, they are just getting what we offer to begin with. If I have a potential client who is looking to secure an exhibitor-level sponsorship but feels cautionary about the $9K investment, I tell him that as a bonus, we will give him the attendee contact list, which is something we only give to the silver-level and above sponsors. But really, they all get the attendee contact list. It means nothing to us, but can be a lot of potential revenue to them. But positioning it like this makes it feel like they are getting something unique and special.
Some people would consider this lying. Or withholding information to use as a tool (weapon?) to cause a desired outcome. It only works if your potential customer isn't aware of all the potential benefits available to begin with.
I have decided this strategy should be called Positive Positioning. Maybe there is a name for it already or maybe I heard that once somewhere but don't remember. You manage the emotions of the client in such a way as to more successfully or quickly close the deal. As an astute sales person, you are much more likely to be successful using this tactic if you can adequately read your potential client, and discern what they know and understand about the transaction.
With AB, the deal is, you pay $99 and for the following 3 years every exam is free and you have a discount on your eye products. Pretty straightforward. If you do not want the membership, the exam is $79 dollars.
There is no getting around that. Yet over the course of many conversations in the span of two days, the employees I spoke to kept saying they could 'waive' my exam fee.They did not seem to understand that what they were saying did not make sense, which was funny, and baffling to me. Kudos to the company for trying to capture business more effectively...but guys?....I'm not stupid.
(On a side note, it is entirely possible that I am the dense one and there is something about this special deal that I was missing, despite my intense efforts to clarify what was being communicated. I am humbly welcome to being corrected-but either way-positive positioning can be a valuable tool if you do it right.)
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