This post led to this post, where I answered the first of these three questions:
1. What is the quality of experience I want to have as I earn a living?
2. What gifts do I want to give to life as I toil at challenging tasks that are interesting to me?
3. What capacities do I want to develop in myself while doing my work?
In this post, I’ll answer the second question.
What gifts do I want to give to life as I toil at challenging tasks that are interesting to me?
I’d like to teach the world to sing
In perfect harmony
I’d like to give the world a Coke…
Okay, no, not really.
Seeing as my top priority for a job that I covered in the last post was creativity, it seems fairly obvious what I want to put out into life, the world, and the universe in general. I want to create.
I’m not a musician, and I’m not a physical artist—I don’t want to add sound to the world, or a painting or sculpture. As much as my father might want it, that’s just not what I want to do. I do love to write, and I love to be creative with concepts and ideas.
I’d like to give originality. I’d like to make someone stop and think—wether it’s about a product or about a concept. I’d like to make people react in pleasant surprise, laughing or smiling or even just glazing over as they’re startled into rethinking something.
I’d like to give stories. I love stories, I’ll read just about anything with a plot, and I would love to put more stories into the world. This ties into wanting people to think—the biggest story on my plate right now is about how one man deals with his Christian identity while in a relationship with another man, and a project that’s been on my mind for years is the story of a guy who falls in love with someone online, with no clue as to their gender. I’m not writing them as GLBT stories—they’re just stories about people. In one, the main characters happen to be bi or gay; in the other, while the main character does struggle with what it means for his orientation that he’s fallen for someone who he can’t identify as female, it’s more about his struggle than it is about the possibility of a same-sex relationship. If I do it right, I could really make people think about the messages behind my stories, and even see things from a new perspective.
And both of those things are interesting to me—taking old concepts and turning them on their heads; creating new concepts; developing characters and plots that people can identify with even as they’re scratching their head and saying “Huh, what would I do in that situation?”
There is another answer to the question, if looked at from a different perspective: I want to have kids, and have them also be my gift to life and the world. I want to raise them with good hearts and good values, so there are more good people in the world. Doing so will be interesting, challenging, and, from what I hear, the most fun and awesome experience in the universe. And it will also be work, which I think qualifies it for that question.
To sum up this whole thing: What do I want to give to life? The things I love in it. Originality, good stories, and good people. Easy.
Next question.
Showing posts with label i wish. Show all posts
Showing posts with label i wish. Show all posts
Friday, December 4, 2009
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Achtung! Revisited
See? I told you I’d get back to you.
1. What is the quality of experience I want to have as I earn a living?
2. What gifts do I want to give to life as I toil at challenging tasks that are interesting to me?
3. What capacities do I want to develop in myself while doing my work?
One question at a time, one post at a time.
What is the quality of experience I want to have as I earn a living?
This is the hardest question to answer. How do you qualify quality? Number of hours you work at something? What gets done in those hours? How much money you make? What kind of projects you work on? Who you work for? Who you don’t work for? It’s a highly subjective question.
Let’s start with the basic priorities of what I want in a job, and go through those.
Creativity
I want to be able to play with the problem or objective, look at it from different angles, analyze it, take it apart and put it back together. Brainstorm in a group, brainstorm by myself. My favorite assignments in school, ever, were those from Advertising class, where we took a campaign or slogan or advertisement and took it apart to analyze, critique, and possibly correct it.
If my job consists of doing the same thing, over and over again, with no input from my brain, no chance to be fun or different or creative at all, I might as well be a robot. Honestly, I probably wouldn’t have that much problem with a job like that—I’d just settle into a groove and let my mind wander and let the hours go by. But I’d also stagnate, and I wouldn’t have fun. I know everyone says they wants a fun job…but is that such a bad thing to want? To not just be happy about work, but be excited about it, be gleeful about it?
I want a job where I take my work with me wherever I go—in a good way. Not because I can’t let things “stay at the office” or because there’s a looming deadline that’s stressing me out, but because the problem is so interesting, so fun to think about, that I just want to keep turning it over in my head and finding new ways to go about it.
Freedom
This priority may actually be the most important. It also got me laughed at at work. Someone asked me what I wanted to do “later” (as in after college), and I said I wanted to work from home. They laughed at me. Not in a straight-on mean way, but in a condescending “That is too funny, you’re joking, right?” way. I’m still a little bitter about it, especially it’s just not as outrageous as an idea as it used to be.
In this world, working from is growing less unusual, and less impossible. The technology that exists is astounding—you can conference from home via phone, conference call, instant messenger, or video chat. You can access work files from home, updating them from home within seconds so your coworkers can run with your changes, either from the office or from their own home. Anyone can buy a combination printer, scanner, copier and fax and have all those capabilities in their office at home, without even taking up that much space. Wifi is becoming more abundant and cellular signals more widely available, while laptops and even printers are growing smaller, so you can access files and work on projects from home, from Starbucks, from the park, from your hotel, from almost anywhere. You can go down to Staples or Kinkos and get your brochures, presentations, or booklets printed out and put together in record time.
The physical office is becoming less and less necessary as time goes by, technology improves, and priorities change.
You know why I want to work from home? It’s not because I hate driving, it’s not because I don’t like people, it’s not because the idea of a cubicle makes me sick. None of those things are true. I want to work from home because I plan on having a home that I love, that is comfortable and beautiful and home. I find the idea that we have to spend so many hours away from our homes in order to afford our homes positively absurd. I plan on working hard, on saving and scrimping and budgeting, on busting my butt in order to have a house that is as close to my dream home as is fiscally possible. And after working so hard for it, I want to spend time in it. Because dammit, that’s the point.
So. I want freedom to do work at my own pace, in my own space. To go at projects or problems in the manner that works best for me, whatever that means. I don’t want someone breathing down my neck, I don’t want insane deadlines that only insane people can meet (normal deadlines are okay, even if I’m not normal), I don’t want to be forced to work with people I can’t stand, who I just don’t jive with. I want to be able to start work when I’m actually awake, not when I have to be at the office, and work until I’m done, not until the office closes up for the day.
I don’t mean I want to sleep until noon, read e-mails and idly type up some bullshit in my pajamas from the kitchen table, ignore the directions or ideas from my superiors or coworkers and do whatever the hell I feel like instead, or wait until 3 a.m. before a major presentation to rush and get everything done. I would get “dressed on purpose” every morning, get up and officially start the day at a reasonable time, have a home office that was dedicated to work and not play, do what I was directed to do and get things done on time.
My own space, my own pace, my own hours, my own way of going about my job. Give me all of these, and I will be a very loyal employee. I will work my ass off for you, I will respect rules and directions and deadlines, I will put in however long it takes to get the problem solved or the project done. I just want the freedom to do my job as is best for me.
Salary
I wish this didn’t have to be a priority, that I could just have a job I love without worrying or caring if it makes enough to cover the bills. Don’t we all wish for that? So, when looking for a job, one of the possible deal breakers will be salary, and if it’s enough to cover rent/mortgage, utilities, groceries, gas, etc. That is, until I sell a dozen novels and become a millionaire who can do whatever she damn well pleases.
So, what is the quality of experience I want to have as I earn a living? I want a job that involves being creative, that lets me work from home (or anywhere else), that pays well enough to cover the bills. That’s the best I can come to answering that question, I think. A quality of experience that lets me do what I love, in a place I love, while making enough to have the things I love.
Answer to question two coming soon!
1. What is the quality of experience I want to have as I earn a living?
2. What gifts do I want to give to life as I toil at challenging tasks that are interesting to me?
3. What capacities do I want to develop in myself while doing my work?
One question at a time, one post at a time.
What is the quality of experience I want to have as I earn a living?
This is the hardest question to answer. How do you qualify quality? Number of hours you work at something? What gets done in those hours? How much money you make? What kind of projects you work on? Who you work for? Who you don’t work for? It’s a highly subjective question.
Let’s start with the basic priorities of what I want in a job, and go through those.
Creativity
I want to be able to play with the problem or objective, look at it from different angles, analyze it, take it apart and put it back together. Brainstorm in a group, brainstorm by myself. My favorite assignments in school, ever, were those from Advertising class, where we took a campaign or slogan or advertisement and took it apart to analyze, critique, and possibly correct it.
If my job consists of doing the same thing, over and over again, with no input from my brain, no chance to be fun or different or creative at all, I might as well be a robot. Honestly, I probably wouldn’t have that much problem with a job like that—I’d just settle into a groove and let my mind wander and let the hours go by. But I’d also stagnate, and I wouldn’t have fun. I know everyone says they wants a fun job…but is that such a bad thing to want? To not just be happy about work, but be excited about it, be gleeful about it?
I want a job where I take my work with me wherever I go—in a good way. Not because I can’t let things “stay at the office” or because there’s a looming deadline that’s stressing me out, but because the problem is so interesting, so fun to think about, that I just want to keep turning it over in my head and finding new ways to go about it.
Freedom
This priority may actually be the most important. It also got me laughed at at work. Someone asked me what I wanted to do “later” (as in after college), and I said I wanted to work from home. They laughed at me. Not in a straight-on mean way, but in a condescending “That is too funny, you’re joking, right?” way. I’m still a little bitter about it, especially it’s just not as outrageous as an idea as it used to be.
In this world, working from is growing less unusual, and less impossible. The technology that exists is astounding—you can conference from home via phone, conference call, instant messenger, or video chat. You can access work files from home, updating them from home within seconds so your coworkers can run with your changes, either from the office or from their own home. Anyone can buy a combination printer, scanner, copier and fax and have all those capabilities in their office at home, without even taking up that much space. Wifi is becoming more abundant and cellular signals more widely available, while laptops and even printers are growing smaller, so you can access files and work on projects from home, from Starbucks, from the park, from your hotel, from almost anywhere. You can go down to Staples or Kinkos and get your brochures, presentations, or booklets printed out and put together in record time.
The physical office is becoming less and less necessary as time goes by, technology improves, and priorities change.
You know why I want to work from home? It’s not because I hate driving, it’s not because I don’t like people, it’s not because the idea of a cubicle makes me sick. None of those things are true. I want to work from home because I plan on having a home that I love, that is comfortable and beautiful and home. I find the idea that we have to spend so many hours away from our homes in order to afford our homes positively absurd. I plan on working hard, on saving and scrimping and budgeting, on busting my butt in order to have a house that is as close to my dream home as is fiscally possible. And after working so hard for it, I want to spend time in it. Because dammit, that’s the point.
So. I want freedom to do work at my own pace, in my own space. To go at projects or problems in the manner that works best for me, whatever that means. I don’t want someone breathing down my neck, I don’t want insane deadlines that only insane people can meet (normal deadlines are okay, even if I’m not normal), I don’t want to be forced to work with people I can’t stand, who I just don’t jive with. I want to be able to start work when I’m actually awake, not when I have to be at the office, and work until I’m done, not until the office closes up for the day.
I don’t mean I want to sleep until noon, read e-mails and idly type up some bullshit in my pajamas from the kitchen table, ignore the directions or ideas from my superiors or coworkers and do whatever the hell I feel like instead, or wait until 3 a.m. before a major presentation to rush and get everything done. I would get “dressed on purpose” every morning, get up and officially start the day at a reasonable time, have a home office that was dedicated to work and not play, do what I was directed to do and get things done on time.
My own space, my own pace, my own hours, my own way of going about my job. Give me all of these, and I will be a very loyal employee. I will work my ass off for you, I will respect rules and directions and deadlines, I will put in however long it takes to get the problem solved or the project done. I just want the freedom to do my job as is best for me.
Salary
I wish this didn’t have to be a priority, that I could just have a job I love without worrying or caring if it makes enough to cover the bills. Don’t we all wish for that? So, when looking for a job, one of the possible deal breakers will be salary, and if it’s enough to cover rent/mortgage, utilities, groceries, gas, etc. That is, until I sell a dozen novels and become a millionaire who can do whatever she damn well pleases.
So, what is the quality of experience I want to have as I earn a living? I want a job that involves being creative, that lets me work from home (or anywhere else), that pays well enough to cover the bills. That’s the best I can come to answering that question, I think. A quality of experience that lets me do what I love, in a place I love, while making enough to have the things I love.
Answer to question two coming soon!
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Liam & Jer Progress: Nov. 7th, 2009
As of yesterday, my total word count for "final" chapters (all six of them) is 9,884.
(By "final" chapters, I mean the documents/text files that will eventually evolve into final drafts. I have many, many .docs and .txts that hold pieces of Liam & Jer, but these are older drafts, some dating back to my junior year of high school. These have either been drastically changed in to new chapters, stripped for parts, or scrapped altogether.)
Anyway. A word count of under 10,000 is...kinda pathetic. If you also keep in mind that I set myself a goal of adding 50,000 words this month in honor of NaNoWriMo...*gulp* I'm actually pretty confident that I will NOT meet this goal, but that's okay. I'd be happy if I had 20,000 words, or even 15,000. Anything that meant I actually added to it.
I recently took my outline and transferred them to index cards. My plan is to take the cards and figure out the exact order of events. This would seem easy--A then B then C, right?*--except that I'm toying with the idea of a few of the chapters being flashbacks, looking at Liam's or Jer's past to get some insight as to why they're doing this or acting like that. I'm afraid that it could make it messy, complicated, confusing, etc, but I'm also concerned with what might be missing if I don't include them. I currently suck at "looking back" in the middle of a scene, although you'd think the fact that I'm writing it in present tense would help. Of course, the fact that I'm thinking of trying to fit this big, messy puzzle piece into the whole thing instead of, you know, growing as a writer and learning to fix what needs fixing in my toolbox may also say something about me. That something may start with an "l" and rhyme with "hazy."
I'm also trying to find a time to dedicate to writing. I set on the task of finding this piece of time months ago, and I even had one for, oh, two weeks, but it's gotten harder. The free time I do have has to be divvied up between school assignments, errands and chores, seeing Mom, seeing Dad, being social (HA!), and getting some quality time with Ryan. These pieces of free time are currently: Sundays and Mondays until 4, and Wednesdays and Saturdays after noon. Sunday is currently my day to catch up on Mom-home chores and see Mom, and Monday is currently my only day to sleep in, which is very precious to me. Wednesdays and Saturdays, Ry and I do one of two things: do chores and errands, or have a few hours of dedicated WoWing, basically my only WoW time the entire week. WoW might sound like something worth sacrificing to get some writing in, and maybe it should be, but it's also a great stress-reliever, and a little bit of being social (getting friendlier with the Guildies).
Keep in mind that Writing Time would more or less HAVE to be at Starbucks, where I'm disconnected from the internet, and able to just plug in to my music and my little world. Sometimes just the act of Going To/Being At Starbucks is almost enough to click in to Writing Mode. So it's not just a set time I pull out the laptop and get down to business; it's a set time that I drive to Starbucks, get myself a drink and a snack, and settle down at a table. On Mondays and Sundays, there would have to be travel time built in to get back in time for work or D&D.
So, there. My current writing status/predicament. I'll try to post something opinionated and ranty tomorrow.
*Yes, Dad, I know about time not being linear, but in this particular story, it's going to be, okay? ;)
(By "final" chapters, I mean the documents/text files that will eventually evolve into final drafts. I have many, many .docs and .txts that hold pieces of Liam & Jer, but these are older drafts, some dating back to my junior year of high school. These have either been drastically changed in to new chapters, stripped for parts, or scrapped altogether.)
Anyway. A word count of under 10,000 is...kinda pathetic. If you also keep in mind that I set myself a goal of adding 50,000 words this month in honor of NaNoWriMo...*gulp* I'm actually pretty confident that I will NOT meet this goal, but that's okay. I'd be happy if I had 20,000 words, or even 15,000. Anything that meant I actually added to it.
I recently took my outline and transferred them to index cards. My plan is to take the cards and figure out the exact order of events. This would seem easy--A then B then C, right?*--except that I'm toying with the idea of a few of the chapters being flashbacks, looking at Liam's or Jer's past to get some insight as to why they're doing this or acting like that. I'm afraid that it could make it messy, complicated, confusing, etc, but I'm also concerned with what might be missing if I don't include them. I currently suck at "looking back" in the middle of a scene, although you'd think the fact that I'm writing it in present tense would help. Of course, the fact that I'm thinking of trying to fit this big, messy puzzle piece into the whole thing instead of, you know, growing as a writer and learning to fix what needs fixing in my toolbox may also say something about me. That something may start with an "l" and rhyme with "hazy."
I'm also trying to find a time to dedicate to writing. I set on the task of finding this piece of time months ago, and I even had one for, oh, two weeks, but it's gotten harder. The free time I do have has to be divvied up between school assignments, errands and chores, seeing Mom, seeing Dad, being social (HA!), and getting some quality time with Ryan. These pieces of free time are currently: Sundays and Mondays until 4, and Wednesdays and Saturdays after noon. Sunday is currently my day to catch up on Mom-home chores and see Mom, and Monday is currently my only day to sleep in, which is very precious to me. Wednesdays and Saturdays, Ry and I do one of two things: do chores and errands, or have a few hours of dedicated WoWing, basically my only WoW time the entire week. WoW might sound like something worth sacrificing to get some writing in, and maybe it should be, but it's also a great stress-reliever, and a little bit of being social (getting friendlier with the Guildies).
Keep in mind that Writing Time would more or less HAVE to be at Starbucks, where I'm disconnected from the internet, and able to just plug in to my music and my little world. Sometimes just the act of Going To/Being At Starbucks is almost enough to click in to Writing Mode. So it's not just a set time I pull out the laptop and get down to business; it's a set time that I drive to Starbucks, get myself a drink and a snack, and settle down at a table. On Mondays and Sundays, there would have to be travel time built in to get back in time for work or D&D.
So, there. My current writing status/predicament. I'll try to post something opinionated and ranty tomorrow.
*Yes, Dad, I know about time not being linear, but in this particular story, it's going to be, okay? ;)
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Achtung!
Again with the freaky horoscope.
This is what Free Will Astrology gave to Geminis for this week:
During this phase of your cycle, you'll generate good fortune if you brainstorm and meditate about your relationship with work. I urge you to empty your mind of everything you think you know about the subject. Adopt a fresh and innocent perspective. Here are some questions to prime your investigations. 1. What's the quality of the experience you want to have as you earn a living? 2. What gifts do you want to give to life as you toil at challenging tasks that are interesting to you? 3. What capacities do you want to develop in yourself while doing your work? (P.S. For your Halloween costume, why not pretend you're doing your dream job?)
...BUH.
The biggest Identity Crisis I've been dealing with lately is figuring out What The Furk I Want To Do. Just today I was thinking about it. For a friend's Halloween party this past weekend, I was tempted to dress up as a Marketing Executive, so that last line is especially Buh-Worthy. I read that and pointed a finger at the screen, all "Oh, I see what you're doing there, and it is NOT COOL."
The thing is, I love Marketing. As I mentioned in a previous post, I was an Accounting major when I took a Principles of Marketing class, and just fell head over heels for it. True, I was already falling out of love with Accounting, and, yeah, maybe I was looking for a way out, keeping my eyes open, and yeah, maybe I could have been clearer about what I wanted out of the relationship from the beginning, but that's not what this is about, so let's not get into the past, okay?
The point is, from my first day of Marketing, I was hooked. The analysis, the creativity, the strategy, my GOD it was exhilarating. Principles of Management was also a favorite class, for basically the same reason: all the reasoning behind all the decisions. The psychology, the emotional intelligence, the behavior analysis, etc etc. Finally, Advertising, which was analyzing existing commercials and campaigns and making up our own. Those homework assignments were some of my favorites in my entire school career, from kindergarten till now, and I could that from now till I was 500 years old.
(Doesn't hurt that all three classes were taught by the same teacher, who could make Tax Accounting interesting, I'm quite sure.)
But all my other business classes made me twitch. The classes on economics, the legal sides of things (torts, libel, etc), business basics, etc. And Sales may have been the worst class experience of my life, if only because the idea of being a sales person makes me nauseous with terror.
I am not a salesperson. I am not a leader. I am not a manager. What I love about Marketing is not the sales, the manipulation, the idea of being better than the other team. I love the analysis, the strategy, the psychology behind it all--I love the creativity. If I could just analyze commercials or campaigns for the rest of my life and be paid for it, that would be hunky fucking dory. Seriously.
But being a team member in an agency where it's Pressure and Crunch Time and Stress and Throwing Together A Campaign Fix At The Eleventh Hour? Count me out. Please. I'll ruin your carpet.
So there's that.
As I had mentioned in another previous post, I'm a writer. Except I hate to say that. Because I don't write...not nearly as much as I want to, need to. When the feeling hits me, when I get in the groove, when the celestial beings get together in a conga line, I can write for hours, and well.
When the juice isn't flowing, when the celestial beings have had too much to drink and couldn't stand up let alone conga, nothing comes out. And then it's work. Hard, horrible, frustrating, debilitating work that I just can't force myself to do. I'll gaze at the page, I'll pull my hair, I'll stare into space, waiting for SOMETHING. ANYTHING. PLEASE.
I would love to be a writer, the way I see it in my mind. Working at home, tapping away for hours in an office. No, not the Perfect Life, a mansion earned with my best sellers, only working eight hours a week and doing cross-country book tours. Just a small room, messy but well-lit, with a computer, being able to sit or sprawl or whatever and work out the stories in my head. Maybe go down to the local coffee place for a change of scenery. Not rich from it, by any means, but Doing Well Enough, thank you very much.
Except I hit these blocks, and they stop my in my tracks, and it takes me months to recover. And I can't discipline myself to save my own life, can't say "Okay, x time on x day every week, I go to this spot, and I write, and I don't care what comes out, but by god, something will be written." I suck at it.
I don't have the flow, and I don't have the will power.
So there's that.
As I have mentioned in no previous posts, I love to edit. This stems from the same sapling as my love for writing, but was realized because of my boyfriend, Ryan. He finished up his Bachelors in Psychology in December 2008, and let me tell you, he's brilliant at Psychology. He is both articulate and passionate when it comes to this subject.
However, he's not the greatest when it comes to English. His grammar and spelling can leave something to be desired, and that's where I stepped in for the last year of his degree. After he slammed out another research paper--and, in case you didn't know, Psychology students write A LOT OF FUCKING RESEARCH PAPERS--I would lovingly attack it with a red pen, marking up the errors and inconsistencies. I ate it up, I would hand him back the first draft and eagerly await the second draft, or the next paper that was due.
That Halloween party I went to? I ended up going as a Grammar Nazi. Suit, red arm band with a "G" on it, ruler, red pens, copy of Strunk & White in my pocket. There you go.
This past spring, I got a little more serious about this fairly-newfound love for editing, and looked into what might happen so I could earn a living doing it. From what I found, it seemed there are two avenues for such a thing: find a job at a publishing house, or freelance. The second option brought to mind the same image as being a writer--namely, that of being able to work from home, doing what I loved from the place I love.
Except there's one thing freelancers lack: structure. There is no office, there is no time clock, there is no payroll department, there is no manager to give you work to do. There is just you, and your talent, and your willingness to promote yourself up the wazoo. If Real Estate is about location, location, location, then freelancing is about promotion, promotion, promotion.
Here's the part where you scroll back up and read about what I am not: a salesperson. I couldn't sell someone else's products, how am I supposed to sell my own? When it's not even tangible and all anyone has is my word that I don't suck?
So there's that.
Marketing. Writing. Editing. Three areas that make me happy, that I could do for days on end and be quite content. Three areas that have a list of cons just as long, if not longer, than the pros.
Reading that horoscope was like receiving a slap in the face. I know that all I've just written doesn't exactly address the horoscope. What all these many paragraphs are is background to what's going on in my head before I even start thinking about those three questions:
1. What is the quality of experience I want to have as I earn a living?
2. What gifts do I want to give to life as I toil at challenging tasks that are interesting to me?
3. What capacities do I want to develop in myself while doing my work?
I'll get back to you.
This is what Free Will Astrology gave to Geminis for this week:
During this phase of your cycle, you'll generate good fortune if you brainstorm and meditate about your relationship with work. I urge you to empty your mind of everything you think you know about the subject. Adopt a fresh and innocent perspective. Here are some questions to prime your investigations. 1. What's the quality of the experience you want to have as you earn a living? 2. What gifts do you want to give to life as you toil at challenging tasks that are interesting to you? 3. What capacities do you want to develop in yourself while doing your work? (P.S. For your Halloween costume, why not pretend you're doing your dream job?)
...BUH.
The biggest Identity Crisis I've been dealing with lately is figuring out What The Furk I Want To Do. Just today I was thinking about it. For a friend's Halloween party this past weekend, I was tempted to dress up as a Marketing Executive, so that last line is especially Buh-Worthy. I read that and pointed a finger at the screen, all "Oh, I see what you're doing there, and it is NOT COOL."
The thing is, I love Marketing. As I mentioned in a previous post, I was an Accounting major when I took a Principles of Marketing class, and just fell head over heels for it. True, I was already falling out of love with Accounting, and, yeah, maybe I was looking for a way out, keeping my eyes open, and yeah, maybe I could have been clearer about what I wanted out of the relationship from the beginning, but that's not what this is about, so let's not get into the past, okay?
The point is, from my first day of Marketing, I was hooked. The analysis, the creativity, the strategy, my GOD it was exhilarating. Principles of Management was also a favorite class, for basically the same reason: all the reasoning behind all the decisions. The psychology, the emotional intelligence, the behavior analysis, etc etc. Finally, Advertising, which was analyzing existing commercials and campaigns and making up our own. Those homework assignments were some of my favorites in my entire school career, from kindergarten till now, and I could that from now till I was 500 years old.
(Doesn't hurt that all three classes were taught by the same teacher, who could make Tax Accounting interesting, I'm quite sure.)
But all my other business classes made me twitch. The classes on economics, the legal sides of things (torts, libel, etc), business basics, etc. And Sales may have been the worst class experience of my life, if only because the idea of being a sales person makes me nauseous with terror.
I am not a salesperson. I am not a leader. I am not a manager. What I love about Marketing is not the sales, the manipulation, the idea of being better than the other team. I love the analysis, the strategy, the psychology behind it all--I love the creativity. If I could just analyze commercials or campaigns for the rest of my life and be paid for it, that would be hunky fucking dory. Seriously.
But being a team member in an agency where it's Pressure and Crunch Time and Stress and Throwing Together A Campaign Fix At The Eleventh Hour? Count me out. Please. I'll ruin your carpet.
So there's that.
As I had mentioned in another previous post, I'm a writer. Except I hate to say that. Because I don't write...not nearly as much as I want to, need to. When the feeling hits me, when I get in the groove, when the celestial beings get together in a conga line, I can write for hours, and well.
When the juice isn't flowing, when the celestial beings have had too much to drink and couldn't stand up let alone conga, nothing comes out. And then it's work. Hard, horrible, frustrating, debilitating work that I just can't force myself to do. I'll gaze at the page, I'll pull my hair, I'll stare into space, waiting for SOMETHING. ANYTHING. PLEASE.
I would love to be a writer, the way I see it in my mind. Working at home, tapping away for hours in an office. No, not the Perfect Life, a mansion earned with my best sellers, only working eight hours a week and doing cross-country book tours. Just a small room, messy but well-lit, with a computer, being able to sit or sprawl or whatever and work out the stories in my head. Maybe go down to the local coffee place for a change of scenery. Not rich from it, by any means, but Doing Well Enough, thank you very much.
Except I hit these blocks, and they stop my in my tracks, and it takes me months to recover. And I can't discipline myself to save my own life, can't say "Okay, x time on x day every week, I go to this spot, and I write, and I don't care what comes out, but by god, something will be written." I suck at it.
I don't have the flow, and I don't have the will power.
So there's that.
As I have mentioned in no previous posts, I love to edit. This stems from the same sapling as my love for writing, but was realized because of my boyfriend, Ryan. He finished up his Bachelors in Psychology in December 2008, and let me tell you, he's brilliant at Psychology. He is both articulate and passionate when it comes to this subject.
However, he's not the greatest when it comes to English. His grammar and spelling can leave something to be desired, and that's where I stepped in for the last year of his degree. After he slammed out another research paper--and, in case you didn't know, Psychology students write A LOT OF FUCKING RESEARCH PAPERS--I would lovingly attack it with a red pen, marking up the errors and inconsistencies. I ate it up, I would hand him back the first draft and eagerly await the second draft, or the next paper that was due.
That Halloween party I went to? I ended up going as a Grammar Nazi. Suit, red arm band with a "G" on it, ruler, red pens, copy of Strunk & White in my pocket. There you go.
This past spring, I got a little more serious about this fairly-newfound love for editing, and looked into what might happen so I could earn a living doing it. From what I found, it seemed there are two avenues for such a thing: find a job at a publishing house, or freelance. The second option brought to mind the same image as being a writer--namely, that of being able to work from home, doing what I loved from the place I love.
Except there's one thing freelancers lack: structure. There is no office, there is no time clock, there is no payroll department, there is no manager to give you work to do. There is just you, and your talent, and your willingness to promote yourself up the wazoo. If Real Estate is about location, location, location, then freelancing is about promotion, promotion, promotion.
Here's the part where you scroll back up and read about what I am not: a salesperson. I couldn't sell someone else's products, how am I supposed to sell my own? When it's not even tangible and all anyone has is my word that I don't suck?
So there's that.
Marketing. Writing. Editing. Three areas that make me happy, that I could do for days on end and be quite content. Three areas that have a list of cons just as long, if not longer, than the pros.
Reading that horoscope was like receiving a slap in the face. I know that all I've just written doesn't exactly address the horoscope. What all these many paragraphs are is background to what's going on in my head before I even start thinking about those three questions:
1. What is the quality of experience I want to have as I earn a living?
2. What gifts do I want to give to life as I toil at challenging tasks that are interesting to me?
3. What capacities do I want to develop in myself while doing my work?
I'll get back to you.
Friday, October 2, 2009
My name is Ruth Johnson, and I'm addicted to HGTV.
That's right, I'm addicted. House Hunters, My First Place, Property Virgins, Dear Genevieve, Color Splash, all of it! Even Divine Design, even though Candice Olson makes my skin crawl. You know what she does? She tries to be Ellen DeGeneres. She wants to be cute and quirky and adorable, and she is trying ever so hard to nail it. But you can tell that every action is exquisitely planned, and that just ruins it.
Now Genevieve...I love Genevieve. I've loved her ever since Trading Spaces. Now, on Dear Genevieve, she gets letters from people about rooms that are ruining their lives, and comes in and pulls the perfect design out of their hearts. She doesn't just ask what they want for a floor plan, what their favorite colors are, blah blah blah. She asks about their lives, their values, their interests, what they do in that room, what they want that room to be about beyond just "place to cook" or "place to sleep". Then she takes these things, runs around barefoot, scares the shit out of the homeowners with color swatches, and makes them cry.
Genevieve is also one of the only designers I know of that can't draw for shit. Each episode, she takes out a huge piece of paper to sketch out the room, and there is just no finesse to it. Lines are not straight, angles are not square, scale is not in proportion. But none of it matters, because it gets the idea across.
She's also gorgeous and sweet and compassionate and friendly and I WANT TO HUG HER SO BAD.
Oh, and then there's Color Splash. With David Bromstad. David. Bromstad. Looking past the fact that he's gorgeous, ripped, has a fantastic smile, great eyes, looks like he'd give the BEST hugs...
What was I saying?
Oh yes. *wipes off drool* Besides the physical aspect, David Bromstad is RIDICULOUSLY talented. Illegally talented. He put together a living room with the direction of "Modern Rustic". COME ON. And his art is to die for. Literally, I would die for a custom-made piece of art from this man. Or pay thousands of dollars. Whatever.
As I type this, I'm watching The Antonio Project, an hour-long show where the winner of Design Star completely finishes a trashed-out house be bought at auction. After watching this past season of Design Star, it's fun to watch what Antonio does now that he's off the leash.
Honestly, I thought some of his projects were a little lackluster, especially the White Room Challenge, especially since he's this big, burly, tattooed, rough-talkin', 40-year-old Italian set designer who wants everyone to know how edgy and creative and risk-taking he is. That said, he is edgy and creative and he takes risks. So I'm glad they picked him over Dan, who, while very talented, fits the mold of the clean-shaven, polo-wearing, probably-gay, stream-lined designer that's already on HGTV. Antonio has those plastic nerd glasses and a scruffy beard, he's got tattoos all over his arms and chest and neck, owns a bull dog names Chewie, and wears random t-shirts and Converse and camo cargo shorts and a leather jacket. Mold = Obliterated.
I wish I could be an Interior Designer. Watching these shows, the creative process, trying to take a person's life and passions and routine and trying to fit it into x dimensions with y budget? Brrr! That sounds like SO MUCH FUN to me! That said, it also sounds like it's just begging for a micro-managing, indecisive, finicky homeowner to ruin EVERYTHING. Or a procrastinating, incommunicado supplier. Not to mention that my self-confidence issues would make it difficult to present a design plan with enough conviction to persuade the homeowner to go for it. It was also pointed out to me how much education most designers bring to the table--design, art, architecture, even engineering. I completely understand why you'd want all that, but at the same time I don't think I could stay awake through all those classes!
If I ever get the super power of 80's Movie Montage--zipping through long periods of time in less than an hour with a peppy, inspirational song playing along--I'll go for it. Until then, I'll just watch HGTV and sigh. And wish. And drool.
Now Genevieve...I love Genevieve. I've loved her ever since Trading Spaces. Now, on Dear Genevieve, she gets letters from people about rooms that are ruining their lives, and comes in and pulls the perfect design out of their hearts. She doesn't just ask what they want for a floor plan, what their favorite colors are, blah blah blah. She asks about their lives, their values, their interests, what they do in that room, what they want that room to be about beyond just "place to cook" or "place to sleep". Then she takes these things, runs around barefoot, scares the shit out of the homeowners with color swatches, and makes them cry.
Genevieve is also one of the only designers I know of that can't draw for shit. Each episode, she takes out a huge piece of paper to sketch out the room, and there is just no finesse to it. Lines are not straight, angles are not square, scale is not in proportion. But none of it matters, because it gets the idea across.
She's also gorgeous and sweet and compassionate and friendly and I WANT TO HUG HER SO BAD.
Oh, and then there's Color Splash. With David Bromstad. David. Bromstad. Looking past the fact that he's gorgeous, ripped, has a fantastic smile, great eyes, looks like he'd give the BEST hugs...
What was I saying?
Oh yes. *wipes off drool* Besides the physical aspect, David Bromstad is RIDICULOUSLY talented. Illegally talented. He put together a living room with the direction of "Modern Rustic". COME ON. And his art is to die for. Literally, I would die for a custom-made piece of art from this man. Or pay thousands of dollars. Whatever.
As I type this, I'm watching The Antonio Project, an hour-long show where the winner of Design Star completely finishes a trashed-out house be bought at auction. After watching this past season of Design Star, it's fun to watch what Antonio does now that he's off the leash.
Honestly, I thought some of his projects were a little lackluster, especially the White Room Challenge, especially since he's this big, burly, tattooed, rough-talkin', 40-year-old Italian set designer who wants everyone to know how edgy and creative and risk-taking he is. That said, he is edgy and creative and he takes risks. So I'm glad they picked him over Dan, who, while very talented, fits the mold of the clean-shaven, polo-wearing, probably-gay, stream-lined designer that's already on HGTV. Antonio has those plastic nerd glasses and a scruffy beard, he's got tattoos all over his arms and chest and neck, owns a bull dog names Chewie, and wears random t-shirts and Converse and camo cargo shorts and a leather jacket. Mold = Obliterated.
I wish I could be an Interior Designer. Watching these shows, the creative process, trying to take a person's life and passions and routine and trying to fit it into x dimensions with y budget? Brrr! That sounds like SO MUCH FUN to me! That said, it also sounds like it's just begging for a micro-managing, indecisive, finicky homeowner to ruin EVERYTHING. Or a procrastinating, incommunicado supplier. Not to mention that my self-confidence issues would make it difficult to present a design plan with enough conviction to persuade the homeowner to go for it. It was also pointed out to me how much education most designers bring to the table--design, art, architecture, even engineering. I completely understand why you'd want all that, but at the same time I don't think I could stay awake through all those classes!
If I ever get the super power of 80's Movie Montage--zipping through long periods of time in less than an hour with a peppy, inspirational song playing along--I'll go for it. Until then, I'll just watch HGTV and sigh. And wish. And drool.
Hellooooooo!
There are many people I could blame with the creation of this blog: my parents, for encouraging me and insisting my opinion was worth something; my fourth grade teacher, for telling me "You are never done writing,"; the many subsequent teachers who read my writing and told me that I had a way with words (my parents can also be accused of voicing these sentiments); and, finally, all the bloggers I follow, for making it look so easy and fun.
However, as much as I've been told that I have every right to say what I want, and that I can say it well, the bullies in my head still insist that blogging at every urge would just annoy the people who follow my current blog.
So, here's my answer: a blog that people can just check when they want to, instead of having their friends page flooded with inanity. Because, let's face it, I may be able to write well, and I may be insightful and even clever on occasion, but the truth is that I'm a dork, a spaz, a silly, and my blogging ain't winning Pulitzers any time soon.
The other reason for this move is that I feel I've "outgrown" LiveJournal. I made my first entry on November 3, 2001, when I was sixteen. That first entry was about being torn between two boys, which was a MAJOR, LIFE-CHANGING PROBLEM, DAMMIT. Since then, it has been locked and unlocked, the templates and colors have changed many times, and many other LIFE-CHANGING DRAMATIC INCREDIBLY IMPORTANT OMG EVENTS have occurred and passed into the annals of history. Eight years have passed. I've changed from an introverted and confused teenager to an introverted and confused adult (you may say "young adult", and that's your right, but I consider that category to cover 18 to 22, personally)(also, this is my blog, and I can call myself anything I want, so step off).
Looking at my LiveJournal now, I feel like I'm leaning on my friends list. If no one comments, I fear that I'm stupid or boring; if I make an entry more than once a day (something that has not happened in a LONG time), I fear that I'm annoying people. Meanwhile, all my friends have gotten these new-fangled things called "lives", and don't update much anymore--and more power to them for having so much to do that they don't have the chance to sit down and entertain me, or comment on my rantings about work. Lazy bums.
The point is, at the top of the list of reasons for Why I Use LiveJournal is the Community/Friends, which is a big part of what it's about. I feel like I need to grow and move on from that. Eventually, this could mean having my own website (something with a .com instead of a .blogspot.com), but that feels bigger than what I'm ready for. This does feel like a step in the right direction.
I feel like my writing/journaling/blogging/public navel-gazing should be made because I want to say something, not because I want someone to read it; I want to blog with no other person to make happy but myself, even if the potential judgment is only in my head.
I want any blog I have to stand on its own, with no built-in audience that only reads it (or skims past it) because it's on their friends page; I want an audience that seeks me out, not one that is force-fed my writing.
Finally, I want my blog to be honest. For some time now, I feel like I'm leaving out a large chunk of my life when I make LJ entries. This is partly due to that insecurity I mentioned earlier, partly due to the usual reactions this part of my life brings about, and partly because this large chunk feels different than the life I've had while on LiveJournal, and it feels like it doesn't belong there. I want to be able to post about anything and everything (within reason)(mostly), and again, this feels like a step in that direction.
I'll be looking for ways to continue updating LiveJournal, whether it's just posting a link that says "New entry over here!" or C&Ping certain posts, or parts of posts. I will also continue to read my friends' page, of course.
I can't promise many things for this blog. I won't say "I'll try to" either, because, as some people might put it, that's setting myself up for failure, giving me an out. I'm just going to do what I'm going to do.
I HOPE to:
[o] post often, even multiple times a day (gasp!)
[o] post whatever is on mind, whatever I have to say, whatever I want to share, whatever I think is cool or interesting or outrageous or shiny
[o] post on a regular basis, possibly making it a "mandatory" part of my routine, to make it a habit
[o] post pictures and art (or at least links to my arts over on other sites)
[o] share as much as possible
That's all for now. More updates coming soon!
However, as much as I've been told that I have every right to say what I want, and that I can say it well, the bullies in my head still insist that blogging at every urge would just annoy the people who follow my current blog.
So, here's my answer: a blog that people can just check when they want to, instead of having their friends page flooded with inanity. Because, let's face it, I may be able to write well, and I may be insightful and even clever on occasion, but the truth is that I'm a dork, a spaz, a silly, and my blogging ain't winning Pulitzers any time soon.
The other reason for this move is that I feel I've "outgrown" LiveJournal. I made my first entry on November 3, 2001, when I was sixteen. That first entry was about being torn between two boys, which was a MAJOR, LIFE-CHANGING PROBLEM, DAMMIT. Since then, it has been locked and unlocked, the templates and colors have changed many times, and many other LIFE-CHANGING DRAMATIC INCREDIBLY IMPORTANT OMG EVENTS have occurred and passed into the annals of history. Eight years have passed. I've changed from an introverted and confused teenager to an introverted and confused adult (you may say "young adult", and that's your right, but I consider that category to cover 18 to 22, personally)(also, this is my blog, and I can call myself anything I want, so step off).
Looking at my LiveJournal now, I feel like I'm leaning on my friends list. If no one comments, I fear that I'm stupid or boring; if I make an entry more than once a day (something that has not happened in a LONG time), I fear that I'm annoying people. Meanwhile, all my friends have gotten these new-fangled things called "lives", and don't update much anymore--and more power to them for having so much to do that they don't have the chance to sit down and entertain me, or comment on my rantings about work. Lazy bums.
The point is, at the top of the list of reasons for Why I Use LiveJournal is the Community/Friends, which is a big part of what it's about. I feel like I need to grow and move on from that. Eventually, this could mean having my own website (something with a .com instead of a .blogspot.com), but that feels bigger than what I'm ready for. This does feel like a step in the right direction.
I feel like my writing/journaling/blogging/public navel-gazing should be made because I want to say something, not because I want someone to read it; I want to blog with no other person to make happy but myself, even if the potential judgment is only in my head.
I want any blog I have to stand on its own, with no built-in audience that only reads it (or skims past it) because it's on their friends page; I want an audience that seeks me out, not one that is force-fed my writing.
Finally, I want my blog to be honest. For some time now, I feel like I'm leaving out a large chunk of my life when I make LJ entries. This is partly due to that insecurity I mentioned earlier, partly due to the usual reactions this part of my life brings about, and partly because this large chunk feels different than the life I've had while on LiveJournal, and it feels like it doesn't belong there. I want to be able to post about anything and everything (within reason)(mostly), and again, this feels like a step in that direction.
I'll be looking for ways to continue updating LiveJournal, whether it's just posting a link that says "New entry over here!" or C&Ping certain posts, or parts of posts. I will also continue to read my friends' page, of course.
I can't promise many things for this blog. I won't say "I'll try to" either, because, as some people might put it, that's setting myself up for failure, giving me an out. I'm just going to do what I'm going to do.
I HOPE to:
[o] post often, even multiple times a day (gasp!)
[o] post whatever is on mind, whatever I have to say, whatever I want to share, whatever I think is cool or interesting or outrageous or shiny
[o] post on a regular basis, possibly making it a "mandatory" part of my routine, to make it a habit
[o] post pictures and art (or at least links to my arts over on other sites)
[o] share as much as possible
That's all for now. More updates coming soon!
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