Taking a Year To Be

I sat next to my mom on the beach and considered how similar we were in regards to career drive and ambition. It was Mother’s Day, and I was five days post-surgery. We were sitting on the seawall because I wouldn’t make it up and down the stairs to the sand. Technically I wasn’t supposed to even be walking yet, but I needed to get out of the apartment.

I buried my feet in the sand and thought about what she was suggesting. “All I’m saying, Holly,” she said, “is that you might want to take it a little easy. Maybe you just slow down this year. Don’t make any big changes. Don’t move, don’t change jobs, don’t start any companies, don’t take on anything extra besides work. Just be for a while.”

Who wouldn’t want to be told to do less, I wondered. Who wouldn’t want the opportunity to be lazy? And there it was. Right there. Lazy. Kicking ass at a full-time professional job, being in a wonderful committed relationship, writing two blogs, and founding a professional organization is lazy? I’ve always pushed myself to be more, better, faster. If I wasn’t the only person doing it, I’d better be the youngest person doing it. If younger people were doing it, I was doing more.

I’ve been teetering back and forth on whether or not the women in my family have bodies that are just not equipped to handle stress, or if we put an extraordinary amount of stress on ourselves which affects our bodies. Two of my aunts have battled cancer, breast and brain. My mother was emitted to the E.R. with chest pains for the first time at 42. The pre-cancerous cells my surgery and biopsy had revealed were most likely the result of stress, my doctor warned me in her office.

I had my first nervous breakdown as a high school junior. I was working part-time, volunteering in an at-risk school, going to school full-time, taking 4 Advanced Placement courses, and taking a night class at the local college. I crumpled like a ball in the living room when my mom scolded me over the laundry. It didn’t really slow me down though. By my senior year I was going to the local college full-time in place of high school classes, with the same extracurricular schedule. Who was I if not all those things – a star student, an impressive application/ resume, a good employee, a girl on the make?

So maybe that’s why I wasn’t surprised when my doctor eyed my chart after the second round of biopsies and said that the past three months of low-stress living hadn’t made a difference. Hadn’t I spent most of those three months stressing out about how to maintain my immense checklist of “low-stress” things to do? Wasn’t it only the last few weeks where I let myself go to whatever the results were, left it in Something Larger’s hands?

One painful, frightening surgery later (which I had um, postponed by a month so I could launch a professional organization), I sat next to my equally driven mother and took her words of advice. She knew. She was still pushing and climbing at 50. “It’s always there,” she said of ambition. “It’ll be there in a year.”

Who am I if not a ladder-climbing employee, a twenty-something entrepreneur, a moonlighting freelancer, The Person in Town Who Knows About That, a woman on the make?

I guess I’m a woman taking it easy.

Tempering my ambition and drive is something I’ve got to figure out in my life, otherwise this thing, this cancer is just going to keep coming up. And the risks are just too great to ignore.

And while I made up my mind on the beach that day, it wasn’t until today I had to act on it. I turned down a $500/mo. freelance gig. And it was in a type of work that I love and have wanted to do more of. I even initially agreed, but backed out after a long talk with my boyfriend and lots of prayerful contemplation this weekend. It was probably one of the hardest things, besides the surgery, I’ve had to do this year.

My greatest fear in giving up this year to maintaining the life I already have is that I will miss out on something, some opportunity, some chance, some big life-changing event. Then I realize that I just went through the life-changing event. I came head-to-head with so many fears over the six months I endured biopsies, waiting periods, immune system boosters, and surgery. In the end, if I don’t learn how to slow down and enjoy what I’ve built, I’ll miss out on so much more.

5 Things Not to Say to People in a Health Crisis (and What to Say Instead)

Last week I underwent a surgery I had been hoping to avoid. It was a dark cloud hanging over my head for 6 months. It started with a test, a biopsy, an ineffective attempt to rev up my immune system and a surgery.

The past 6 months have been an emotional rollercoaster as I faced the possibility of cancer and potentially damaging my child-bearing abilities. I had an amazing amount of support, not only from my loved ones and friends, but also from my friends in the blogosphere.

Let me say first that there is no wrong way to support a friend. But a health crisis can send a person into an emotional tailspin of anger, fear and loneliness. Here are a few things I learned along the way.

Don’t say: Lots of people go through it.
When I heard this (which was often since lots of women do have this surgery), it made my feelings seem insignificant. While it is soothing to some degree to know that you’re not going into completely uncharted medical territory, it is the first time for you and it shouldn’t be trivialized.

Do say: Here’s the contact information for someone who has gone through it.
I can’t count how many times people told me they knew someone who had the same surgery and how she was fine. But that didn’t lessen my fears. Great. Someone, somewhere has come out OK. Doesn’t help.

A few days before my surgery, a woman called me and said that she’d had the same surgery, although it had been 20-someodd years since. She told me exactly what she went through, from beginning to the end. That was the first time I felt comfortable.

So much of what we fear as humans is simply the unknown. The more firsthand information I acquired, the more at ease I felt. After my surgery, a few more women stepped forward and said they’d had it also. I wished that they had done so earlier.

Don’t say: There are people who’ve gone through worse.
I heard this a few times, and when I did, it made feel like total crap. Not only was I (still) facing surgery, but here I am feeling sorry for myself while children in Africa are dying of hunger and disease. Thanks for the helping of guilt – it goes great with my anxiety and fear.

Do say: Let me share my experience going through something worse.
Unless you’re the person who has gone through something worse, I wouldn’t touch this one. If you can’t offer sympathy, don’t offer guilt in its place. If you have faced a bigger challenge, then please share your experience.

An older gentleman friend of mine faced (and beat) cancer three times. Another girlfriend beat a brain tumor. Two of my aunts have in recent years survived breast and brain cancer. Having watched these people walk through their ordeals with grace and talked to them about their fears, where they found strength and courage, and how they coped, were invaluable lessons.

Don’t say: Keep your chin up.
The thing about clichés is that we don’t hear their meanings anymore. Our mind sort of glosses over them because we’ve heard them so much. Besides, who wants to keep their metaphorical chin up when they feel a punch coming?

Do say: Keep your shoulders back.
This is a challenge you’re facing, and you should be in full-on attack mode. It was hard to feel self-pity, sadness, fear, or weakness when I remembered to physically round my shoulders back and down. It made me feel strong, powerful, like I was ready for a fight. It’s sort of like the moment a runner laces her shoes up – her body is ready for the run. By keeping my shoulders back, I was ready to face my challenges head-on.

Don’t say: Don’t worry.
I know this is what people say when they’re searching for the right thing to say and it just isn’t coming. People who love us desperately want to see us feeling better, faster. And it seems like anytime someone said this to me, they were willing it with all their might to take the worry away from me. But someone in a crisis is going to worry. I felt like people were trying to shut me up sometimes, like closing their eyes to an ugly house in the neighborhood.

Do say: Tell me what you’re worried about.
I realize that my loved ones don’t want to think about the worst-case scenarios anymore than I do, but I needed to talk about what I was worried about. Would it be cancer? What if I can’t have children? What if something goes wrong in the surgery?

One of my tricks for beating fear is naming the monster. I ask myself what the worst-case scenario outcome is. That usually takes the fangs off a fear. I needed to be able to do that with someone close to me, to get it off my chest. My moods were so effected by my fears, that I would burst into tears at the breakfast table. “Don’t worry” ain’t gonna fix that. Talking it through will.

Don’t say: Everything will be fine.
This is a lot like “don’t worry” in that I think people say it when they have nothing else to say. I usually just sort of shook my head in agreement or mumbled a thank-you. It just doesn’t really say anything.

Do say: I’m praying for you, or I’m holding you in my thoughts.
While “you’re in my prayers/thoughts” sounds kind of clichéd, this is probably one of the things that warmed my heart the most and actually made me feel better when people said it. It told me that they cared, were thinking about me, and were offering to do the one thing they could actually do – pray for my well-being or send “good vibes” my way.

Even when I was an atheist, I welcomed people’s prayers in a crisis. I took a class in college about the mind-body connection and read about studies in which cancer patients who had an assigned prayer group praying for them survived at higher rates than control groups that did not have a prayer group. I believe in the power of lots of people sending positive thoughts and wishes for you into the universe.

My rollercoaster ended on Monday when my doctor declared me cancer-free. If I can learn to remove the stress in my life, I’ll (hopefully) never have to face it again. But that’s another post…

Photo courtesy My Lyn via Flickr.

Buying the puppy: Learning from mistakes & failures

I had coffee with a friend this weekend and we talked a lot about failure. She said that she felt like she had never really failed before. I, on the other hand, have failed numerous times. Like here. Or here. The amount of mistakes I’ve made in my life is kind of ridiculous. They are far too numerous to count, and some of them have been life-changing.

Some of my failures have only seemed like failures. Others have been important lessons that I only wish wouldn’t have taken so long to figure out.

I always hear people saying to “fail forward.” I guess that’s just a fancy way of saying learn from your mistakes and don’t repeat them. Because there’s something to learn in all of our so-called failures and mistakes, if we are only willing to admit that we’ve been wrong.

Personal story
Meet Amaya. She was my puppy for about 18 hours this weekend. She’s adorable, super-sweet, and loves to chew on… well, anything. She is also a total cuddle bug. So what happened?

I’ve been itching for a dog for months now. But I live in an apartment that is 30 minutes away from my work. And I leave that apartment at 8 a.m. and sometimes I don’t get back until 10 p.m.

I threw all that logic out of the window and did what I wanted. I bought a dog.

When I got her home, she became more rambunctious than she had been in the car. She chewed on everything, and I realized she was covered in fleas. She followed me everywhere, and I when I left her alone she cried. I picked her up, and she stopped.

That’s when I realized there was no way I could keep this adorable little puppy.

Logic and reason came flooding back. And I began to cry as I realized my enormous mistake. Honestly, I began to panic. After about 30 minutes and a conversation with a friend I trust, I came to the decision to take my puppy back to the shelter she came from.

I have to admit that I was wrong, that I made an impulsive decision. And I have to admit this to the people I assured I was ready for pet-parenthood. I have to tell them that I was wrong, that I’m not ready.

I am humbled and embarrassed. But I also have learned from this mistake. I learned that I’m not ready for a puppy. And that will definitely take those wistful feelings away that I used to get when I would see people playing on the beach with their dogs. And when I am ready for a dog, I’ll know it. Because I’ll remember this humbling experience and the accompanying embarrassment, and I won’t make the mistake again.

We can beat ourselves up about our mistakes, or we can see them for what they are – bad decisions we can learn from, moments of weakness that turn into wisdom that lasts a lifetime.

Living Like Your Life Depends On It

Too often I hear people saying that my generation takes things for granted, that we act entitled and expect more than we’ve earned from life. And like all youth before us, we believe ourselves invincible, unstoppable, immortal. And while logically, I know that this is not true, I am guilty of acting like I have an endless string of tomorrows, too.

I like hamburgers. A lot. I have a thing for classic American food, like fried chicken, milk shakes, and French fries. I love McDonalds. And I’ve been known to down four Red Bulls one right after the other and still yawn at the end of the night. I don’t sleep enough. I push my schedule to the limits, suffering small breakdowns, edging out relaxing activities, and parsing out tiny increments of time to family once a quarter.

What I’d been doing was waiting until tomorrow for well, everything. I’ll just have a hamburger today, tomorrow I’ll eat healthier. I’ll see my family next weekend, when work is less stressful. I’ll start leaving the office sooner after this quarter is over; I’ll take a do-nothing day sometime later, once my business is off and running.

We treat life like bottomless chips and salsa - there will always be more when we run out.

Somewhere around the time Date #4 and I were splitting up, I got some unexpected news from my doctor. I needed a biopsy. I’ve had two biopsies in the past and some minor surgery to catch some low-level growth on my cervix before it progressed. No big deal. So I had the biopsy and waited, rather impatiently, for the results over the long Thanksgiving weekend. [I'd like to note that Date #4 drove me to and from my appointment and took amazing care of me. He even baked cookies.]

My doctor’s office called and said the results were normal. No abnormal cell growth. But we want you to come in and talk to the doctor anyway. Sure, sure. Great. No worries. I hang up the phone.

Wait.

Why does the doctor want to see me if everything is fine? My sister the nurse reassures me. “She probably just wants to talk to you about getting everything back to normal and keeping it that way,” she said.

Instead, my doctor tells me that the biopsy was normal. For my outer cervix. What that means is not that there are no problems – it means that they are deeper. In fact, the problem is so deep that the kind of biopsy required could compromise my ability to carry a pregnancy to term. [I assume by now I’ve lost most of my male readers.]

I had a decision to make. I could move forward with the more invasive biopsy, which will require hospitalization. Or, I could wait and see. Sometimes these things can go away on their own, my doctor tells me.

The bargain I strike goes something like this: I have three months to boost my immune system and then I have another test. In the meantime, I run the risk that the growth, which we know nothing about, is bigger or faster-growing than we think.

I’d like to say that things have changed in my life since that day. That I’ve learned the fine art of doing nothing, as one of my retired friends likes to say. That I’ve slowed down, eat healthy, exercise regularly, and am on the whole less stressed.

Pretty much the opposite is true.

I’ve read a lot about cancer and seen the effects of stress on family members and their health. I took a class in college all about how our minds and bodies are connected. I know that the more I believe I will be fine, the more likely I will be. But what a mind-screw.

What’s happened instead is that every time I realize how stressed out I am, I think, “Oh great. I just gave myself cancer.” And then I get more stressed out. Because what if I do want to have kids? What if the partner I haven’t even met yet wants kids? What if I freaking have cancer? And the lump in my throat grows.

Every one around me tells me it’s not a big deal; lots of women go through this. Yes, I know. But it’s not your ability to bear children, is it? I always think. It’s not you with the crap medical insurance in the hospital, is it?

And I stop and realize that none of this is helping. It’s actually making it worse.

Here’s what I should be doing, and my hope is that by putting it out here I can somehow make this next month go the way it needs to. Because in some sense, my life depends on the way I live.

Physical elements
Eating right – Cut out the crap. Insert the fresh. I prefer to eat six small meals throughout the day, and already have a meal plan for this. Guess what’s not on it? Fast food or junk food. It’s all about the many colors of veggies and fruits, with a healthy dose of lean proteins and whole grains. Bring it on.

No caffeine – I love my lattes. I was able to cut out caffeine for three weeks before I caved into Starbucks, aka the monkey on my back. It’s a comfort thing for me, and thus I won’t cut it out all together. Once a week shouldn’t hurt. But I’m glad to say I’m off my three-cup-a-day habit. I can honestly say I have more energy.

Lots of water – Water flushes the body out. By cutting out all other beverages, I realize how little water I would drink otherwise. I also firmly believe my mother’s gorgeous skin is due to her water addiction. It’s all that woman drinks and she’s got the skin of a 25-year-old.

Exercise – Up until the past two weeks, I had a rigorous exercise routine. Three 30-40 minute runs per week, a day of upper-body strength training, a day of lower body and a yoga/cross-training day. This was a good mix for me. The cardio helped my immune system, the strength training builds strong bones (which important for women since we’re prone to osteoporosis later in life – how many of us think of that every day?), and yoga or whatever other physical activity like fishing, kayaking or hiking allows me to be active in my life and enjoy it.

Vitamins – I’ve been taking pre-natal vitamins from the get-go. They boost your immune system like nobody’s business, plus they make your hair and nails grow super fast. It really makes you realize your body is a machine that works harder the more you take care of it. I’ve also been taking calcium (see osteoporosis comment above) and fish oil. I drink Echinacea tea once or twice a day. Hey, man, whatever you say might work, I’ll do it.

Mental
You’ve got to believe you’re going to be OK – This is what everyone tells me, including my doctor. I remember a study from that college course that showed that terminally-ill cancer patients had a higher survival rate if they were in denial than those who accepted their impending death. See also: The Secret.

Keep stress levels low – I have no idea how to do this. I thought perhaps if I could keep my schedule clearer, I would have more downtime and feel less stressed. But that doesn’t seem to work for me. I love all of my activities and have yet to learn the art of saying no. It’s hard to turn down projects when you want to grow your own business, especially when the economy is the way it is and you work in a dying industry. A friend recently told me I needed to embrace this about myself, and that would be the key to unlocking my stress. I do try to have one night a week that is clear of any activity. I spend that evening relaxing with a book, enjoying the quiet. This is definitely my weakest area and I welcome all advice related to this.

Renew – My life coach gave me some tips on how to do this. One is laughter. So I try to be around funny people, laugh at everyone’s jokes, and watch funny movies. It does help. Another is sleep. I try to get 9 hours a night, 8 at a minimum. Being in nature is another, and Date #4 has been kind enough to let me visit his country place out in the Hill Country. It is super relaxing, and I love tromping through the woods with his dogs and lazily kayaking in the river. Anything spiritually-related is good, which I’ll talk about below. Finally, believe it or not, music can be an invigorating activity. I love Explosions in the Sky for inspiring and uplifting me.

Visualization – OK, this is kind of gross, but part of what I do every day is to spend time visualizing a healthy, pink cervix. I even looked up a picture (thanks, Google Images). It looks like a fluffy pink doughnut, basically. I say to myself, I have a healthy, pink cervix. And I imagine it. Weird, I know, but again – I’ll do whatever will work.

Spiritual/Emotional
Faith works – Numerous studies have shown that people who have some kind of belief have higher rates of survival when facing illnesses. I’m not a religious person. To be honest, it just never worked for me. I do consider myself a relatively spiritual person, however. I believe in things like karma and hope reincarnation exists. I think that there’s a reason for things to happen, and I believe that things will turn out the way they’re supposed to. I also think that there is something bigger than binds us all. So, in some sense, I just try to trust that.

Prayer/meditation – In that same college course, I found out that people who had others praying for them generally survived also. I thought this was really interesting. There didn’t have to be a connection between the patient and the prayer-er. I like to think of it as “good vibes.” You’ve got all these good vibes coming in your direction – that’s gotta help, right? Spending quiet time in meditation and prayer also helps center an individual, quiets the mind, and can lower stress levels.

If you’re facing the same situation, I’m not sure what to tell you, except that you aren’t alone. Maybe that’s why I’m writing this. Because even though my friends and family are very supportive and kind, it’s an isolating thing. It makes you question your priorities, your lifestyle, your past decisions. It makes you realize that life is not bottomless, and that the things you feel entitled to, that you take for granted, may not be there in a month.

Photo: Courtesy JPhilipson via Flickr.

News Flash: Sex is a Distraction

When things ended with Date #4, I made a promise to myself: I wouldn’t get into another relationship for six months. It was clear that I couldn’t handle being in a relationship without losing my momentum in other areas of my life, and I was beginning to see a pattern of jumping from one long-term relationship to another. I’d been a serial monogamist since I was 14. One relationship after another. Some started before others had even ended. It was time for a change.

So, no relationships for six months. I decided that they were simply too big a distraction for the kinds of big things I was trying to achieve – applying to business school, saving for my first house, climbing the corporate ladder, crafting my own business, etc.

Did that mean I wasn’t going to have sex for six months either? I mean, let’s be realistic here. Unfortunately (or fortunately), I don’t really have it in me to sleep with someone I’m not romantically interested in, or rather couldn’t be romantically interested in. I tried the “friends with benefits” thing with GIWS, who actually ended up becoming one of my best friends after our relationship ended, but that got messy fast and I decided for the sake of our friendship that needed to be an “emergencies only” kind of thing.

New Year’s Eve rolls around. And I pick up a guy in a bar. And take him home. Ahem. I. Do. Not. Do. This. OK, well I haven’t done it since like, college. But I sort of figured, why not? I got home at 6 a.m. and slept the whole next day. Then we went out again, and I got home at 10:30 a.m. the next day. And I got a bad cold.

I’ve come to the rapid conclusion that not only are relationships a distraction, but so is sex. You heard me: sex is a distraction.

The pursuit of, anticipation of, before and after of – major distractions. How much time do women spend shaving their legs, bleaching their teeth, plucking their eyebrows, getting or giving themselves manicures and pedicures, shopping for the perfect ass jeans, putting together an outfit for a night out, doing our makeup, blow-drying our hair, posturing at the bar, convincing ourselves we can hunt down a worthwhile guy in a club when we know it’s not true, talking about it with our girlfriends, wondering if he’s going to call, and if so, when? I don’t even know how to figure out how much time guys spend thinking about it, but it’s safe to assume it’s at least 75 percent of their waking hours.

And at the end of the day, you still haven’t studied for the GMAT. You’re too tired to go for a run, and you get such a bad cold from your lack of sleep due to Mr. New Year’s Eve’s snoring that you have to take an afternoon off of work during a critical proving-yourself-in-your-new-promotion phase.

Is it worth it? Is sex just one really big distraction? It’s exciting, enticing, and when it’s good, it’s even a little dirty. But it’s fleeting. And what’s been passed up, what effort has been skimped, that lasts. A lower GMAT score, a lesser business school. A missed run can equal three missed runs since you got out of your groove, then you run a minute-less-than-average mile at your 5K. And being less than 110 percent on your career? Well, I don’t even need to go there.

Perhaps this is really why there’s such a gap between male and female earning after their 20s. It’s a lot more socially acceptable for a man to stay out of relationships while pursuing his career, or in the words of less eloquent men, “getting their shit together.” But that’s not the case for 20-something women. There must be something wrong with us if we’re not doing the sex-dating-relationships thing while pursuing our career goals as well. Somehow, we are less feminine. We become “career ladies” or are seen as ball-busters. We are told that taking our work seriously makes us masculine, and we are given tips on being sexy and career-driven at the same time. Well, that part is actually OK with me. I was clamoring along with the rest of you for Hilary to get rid of the pantsuit (seriously, woman, wear a skirt!).

I think a lot of young women are not necessarily in the settle-down life stage, and yet still feel pressured to date and search for The One in anticipation of the onset of that life stage. Why not embrace that stage? And if you still have too much on your plate, why not take sex off the menu in favor of something that will have a greater impact on your life than getting laid on New Year’s Eve?

So, I’m off it all. Sex, dating, relationships. All of it. At least while I prep for the GMAT this month. When it comes down to it, I’ve got priorities – too many if you ask anyone around me. And sex just doesn’t make the list.

Yeah. Ask me what I think in two weeks.

Photo by Bottom-Feeder via Flickr.

How I Found Our Voices

It was January 2008. My head was full of “Rich Dad, Poor Dad,” Robert Kiyosaki and that mother of all Gen Y goals – passive income. I was gonna start a blog.

After all, the people who were writing Employee Evolution, Modite and TwentySet were freaking kids compared to me. Why couldn’t I do it? Didn’t I have something to say?

So, February 2, 2008 I pushed the button. That big old publish button. And…

Nothing happened.

Well, not nothing. My family read it, old coworkers, friends, a guy I was dating. But that was about it. My first few posts bounced around.

I’m not sure when it first happened, but it came. A message from someone who said I had helped. Then another. And after a while, another. When I decided to be open about my sobriety in a very public fashion, my inbox was flooded. The comments section burst not just with congratulations, but with thank yous. Privately, I replied to emails from people who wondered if they had a problem, where they might find some help, for a variety of addictions and problems, not just alcoholism.

It’s not easy to put yourself out there; it’s not easy for me to put myself out there. While I’ve received a lot of support and praise for my candor and honesty, I’ve also been attacked at my most vulnerable point. And to be honest, there are times when it makes me not want to blog anymore. It hurts, and I’ve watched my fellow bloggers go through it, too, in the comments sections of posts they were probably already nervous to publish.

Because each time we publish, we offer a piece of ourselves to the community. Sometimes the community accepts it, maybe they even love it, but sometimes it loves to hate us. Maybe the comments affect us so much because we know the power of words. Every time we post a new entry, we’re calling on the power of those words to do something, whether it’s to address a growing problem, sway people to our political beliefs, or to simply get something off our chest.

For me, the power of my words is used to share what little I’ve learned, and more often than not, to show what I haven’t. That’s the amazing thing about blogging, this global broadcast of words – it reminds me each and every day that I’m not alone, that my situation isn’t unique. And as long as my readers keep telling me that my honesty about where I am in my life helps them, just to know that someone else is going through it too, then I’m going to keep blogging.  

Oh, and passive income? Yeah, right. To both income and passive. Blogging hasn’t earned me any money, it hasn’t gotten me a job, and it definitely hasn’t landed me a relationship, and there are days where I feel a little beaten down. But I love it. And some days, it loves me back. And that was unexpected.

Photo credit: Ashe-Villain via Flickr.

Doing the Spiritual Dishes

It seems to be the nature of life that every now and then we are handed more than we think we can handle. Whether it’s one big thing or several small ones stacking up, everybody reaches their breaking point at some time or another. In those moments, we often just don’t know what to do with ourselves. We’re overwhelmed with emotion, with the weight of so much to deal with at once.

We know that eventually this will all pass, that the emotions will subside given time, but what is to be done right now? Isn’t there anything that can be done immediately?

The past few weeks have been difficult for me. I’m going through a break-up, my company laid off 10 percent of our workforce, and I’m oh-so impatiently awaiting medical test results. It seems like when it rains, it pours.

I’m doing everything there is to do – I keep myself busy, surround myself with friends and loved ones, try to extract what I’ve learned about myself, journal, pour myself into work and imagine a bright future. But I have too many moments when I just can’t do anything but burst into tears. The heartbreak is too great; the weight of everything is too much.

I went through very similar emotions when I first got sober. It was all so overwhelming, and when the loneliness became too much to bear I turned to a story a mentor told me. (Everything good I know I learned from someone much wiser than me!)

When she was having a particularly difficult time, she called her mentor and asked her what she ought to do. She was hysterical and went on and on about what she ought to do.

The woman on the other end of the line asked her calmly, “Are your dishes done?”

“What?” the distraught woman asked.

“Are your dishes clean?” the other woman repeated.

“No.”

“Go do your dishes and call me when you’ve finished.” She hung up the phone.

The woman did her dishes and called her mentor back.

“Do you feel better?” the woman asked.

“No,” the distraught woman replied.

“Is your laundry done?” the woman asked.

“No.”

“Go do your laundry and call me when you’ve finished.” She hung up the phone.

This went on for half the day. She did her dishes and laundry, swept and mopped, and dusted. At the end of it, the distraught woman looked around her clean house, finally calm.

The point? Sometimes there’s nothing that can be, or even should be done about the pain in our lives. Someone recently told me, “Holly, the only way is through.” Another wise person once told me that sometimes you just have to stand. There’s nothing to be done about the pain in our lives but to endure it until it passes.

None of us want to experience pain; it’s part of our biological make-up. We avoid pain because it is unpleasant. It is sometimes necessary, however, in order to grow. It’s been my experience that periods of pain directly precede periods of growth. There’s a correlation there. When we avoid it, when we try to cover it up, we often go too far. We’ll develop hardened hearts, character disorders, neuroses, or addictions.

When we can’t do anything to make the pain in our lives dissipate or even pass more quickly, the best thing we can do is to focus on what we can control – our physical environment. I sat in my ridiculously messy car yesterday and decided it was time to clean it. You see, I can’t do anything to fix my emotional messes right now. I have to go through them. But I need to do something, and what I can do is make my environment clean, calm and put-together, even if the rest of me isn’t.

“Doing the spiritual dishes,” as my friend calls it, is a way to distract us temporarily from discomfort and pain, as well as to improve our physical environment. A clean home or apartment will lend some much needed calm to a disquieted mind, whereas a disheveled physical environment will feed negatively into an already chaotic mental environment.

How do you get through the tough periods in life? What are your “spiritual dishes?”

Photo by quinn.anya via Flickr.

Welcome 2Sense Online Readers!

WorkLoveLife and I were recently profiled by 2Sense Online for their Meet a Blogger series. If you're already a regular reader, check out the article over at 2Sense Online.

If you are new to WorkLoveLife, then welcome! Here's a round-up of some of the most popular posts and some of my personal favorites as well.

Work
Want Better Networking Skills? Be a Player
Gen Y Isn't Unique; We're Just a Bunch of Bursty Workers
My Bohemian Self Versus My Corporate Self

Love
You Can Land a Job but You Can't Land a Man: Successful Women Remain Single
Me and the Great Online Dating Experiment
Good Work Life=Good Sex Life

Life
Young, Professional, Alcoholic
Questioning the Quarter-Life Crisis
Coffee Makes My Life Better

You can keep up with WorkLoveLife by either subscribing by email or RSS.

Lean into Your Fear

I used to be afraid of flying. Deathly afraid. Dear-god-I-might-throw-open-the-emergency-exit-before-takeoff, let-me-out-of-this-thing afraid.

It’s been 18 months since I’ve last flown. Before that, I got tanked to get on a plane. We’re talking lots of booze and pills to make it possible. Like, where-am-I-again drunk. Obviously, I don’t have that luxury anymore. And because I value my sobriety, I don’t have the luxury of taking a sweet little anti-anxiety pill any more either. That option went down with the ship.

So, I had to deal with my fear like a normal messed-up person. I went to therapy. My therapist told me something wonderful and amazing and completely rational.

Lean into your fear.

He told me when I was sitting on that flight and I got nervous to take a deep breath, take my left hand, put it on my right hand and pat it reassuringly. Then, he said, physically and mentally lean into your fear.

It worked.

Well, along with a few EMDR sessions. I don't want to discount that. It was a combination of techniques that got me through this. But it got me thinking about fear, a common thread I’ve come to find in my problems in sobriety. I drank to cover up my fear, and without the drink, the majority of discomfort in my life comes from trying to avoid fear and other negative emotions.

But this isn’t just a common trait among alcoholics, I’ve found. I was just talking to a friend earlier who is in a lot of fear over a big decision in her life. And my life coach just published a post on Brazen Careerist about overcoming your fear to literally rock your life.

As young people, in particular, we’re learning how to recognize our fears and overcome them. This is one such way to do just that. Instead of running away from the things that frighten you, instead of avoiding the uncomfortable situation, instead of not looking into the unknown, lean into your fear.

Get on the airplane and face the fear. You’ll overcome it.

Take the leap and move to a foreign country. You’ll never regret it.

Ask your boss for a raise. You’ll thank yourself.

Have the conversation you’ve been afraid of. You’ll be a better person for it.

Take a deep breath. Pat your own hand reassuringly.

Lean into the fear.

Once you've looked into it, it will vanish. And you'll see it for all it is - fear.

As a friend of mine says, kiss that monster on the nose.

Want a weekend with my life coach?

There's a contest going on over at Brazen Careerist that you must check out if you liked the My Life Coach Rocks post. Jenny (that's my life coach!) is hosting a contest over at BC about overcoming fear in order to literally rock your 20s, as well you should!

Jenny's question is about choice and overcoming the paralysis it can cause to make your life the best possible. Head over to Brazen Careerist and leave a comment. If you win, you'll join Jenny (and me!) for a weekend experience at a resort where Jenny and her speakers will teach you to:

1. Create a springboard to accelerate personal success in life and work.
2. Focus attention on the key factors that open the doors to designing your dream life.
3. Challenge you and empowering you to take the actions that will move you forward NOW.

So what are you waiting for? Go comment!

Why You Should Vote for Obama, Even If You Don't Agree on the Issues

I'd like to start out by saying that I hope this doesn't affect my readership. I think the world of my readers, and I understand that we are all entitled to our own personal political beliefs. This is simply my opinion. Feel free to agree and disagree, but please do not resort to angry name-calling. Keep it civil and intelligent.

If people are the greatest resource a nation has, then a primary goal of government is to inspire those people to do what is necessary to make that nation great. This is simply an exercise in the marketing of ideas on the grandest scale. While McCain might be a maverick who can help to clean up Washington, Obama is the candidate who has nailed the ability to communicate and inspire people to do more. Inspiring confidence and communicating with people may mean more than any bill either candidate can get signed into law.

- From "Marketing and the Economy; Why America Needs Obama and Coca-Cola" by Joe Marchese, MediaPost

This post may be too late for some, and I actually considered not posting it. I’m not very eloquent about my political beliefs – my expertise is in marketing. Then my mom told me she was still undecided. So this one is for you, Mom.

I’ve been in marketing for about a year and a half now. I’m no Guy Kawasaki, but I’ve really taken to the field. I’m fascinated by what motivates people to make a purchase, choose a certain product or brand, and how pyschographics plays into that. So, when Ad Age named Barack Obama Marketer of the Year, I wasn’t surprised. The man is a marketing genius. I actually think this is why people compare him to JFK. It’s not so much the youth thing – it’s the agent of change thing.

Whether or not you agree with the issues, I think you should vote for Obama.

Obama is the candidate that has been able to inspire large chunks of the population to believe that things can change for the better. Whenever I’ve had conversations with my acquaintances and friends about why I am voting for Obama, I cite consumer confidence.

Either way, I think the markets will see an upswing after Nov. 2. Any change in leadership is a positive one, in my opinion. But I think we will see a greater upswing in national confidence if Obama is elected. For one thing, other great nations would like to see Obama as president. If he were elected, I think you would see faith restored in the international markets.

If McCain is elected, a large portion of the population will be left dejected and with a total loss of faith in their nation. This election is more to us than any other election. For someone my age, the belief that I can, along with my fellow Americans, create lasting and vital change hinges on the outcome of this election. Obama has been able to inspire a historically apathetic voting demographic to become involved in politics, to show up at the polls (I’ll be voting for the first time since 2000), and to take an earnest interest in the future of their nation.

McCain simply doesn’t connect with people on that level. If McCain is elected, my belief in America as a great nation that can lead the world into an era of positive change will be shattered. I will know that my nation has failed the vision test, that I live in a country blinded by fear-mongering, hatred and impotence. Change will be slow, not swift. We will have elected a corporation where we needed a start-up. It will be titanic effort instead of nimble agility, which is what we see with brands that “act small” versus the colossus of slow-to-change industries.

It takes more than wielding power to get a law passed. Like Joe Marchese said earlier this month in an article on MediaPost, the American brand has taken a beating recently. Which message would we like to send our nation and to other nations – one where we’re too blinded by fear of change and backward-looking issues to make the leap of faith, or one that stands for change, belief and hope?

I for one, regardless of the issues, because let’s face it – it’s less about abortion, the economy, and oil than it is about the kind of nation we’d like to have, would like to put our nation’s best face forward. I don’t think that’s what McCain will be about. I want a strong person in power who is ready to lead this nation into the 21st century. It’s not about the issues – it’s about the message.

What message do you want to send?

My life coach rocks

I believe that everyone ought to have a personal board of directors in their life… especially in your 20s. I’m only six years into this (thank god it’s halfway over!), but figuring out finances, romances, career aspirations, and general living sense eludes me from time to time. I seem to bump along fine for a few months, then WHAM! I get something that completely throws me off-kilter. I was just entering shaky ground when I met Jenny Ferry, a life coach.

Now, Jenny and I have never actually met, but I can imagine exactly how she would be from our phone and email interaction. Her warmth actually radiates in every hello via phone and every earnest closing of an email. Not many people can pull off that kind of emotion with sincerity, in this skeptic’s book.

Jenny specializes in helping twenty-something women find direction in whatever it is their having trouble with. We started by identifying what that might be for me. Just picking one or two things to work on was a challenge in and of its self. I believe my words were, “Ugh. Where do I start??” I was working two jobs, running my small business and writing this blog. I was in a new relationship and I was training for a half-marathon. I was just about to freak out.

I took a quick diagnostic survey. The career portion practically leapt off the page at us. That was definitely where we needed to start. Then there was this “fun” category. Fun? What’s that? Work is fun, I said. Heh. We were still going to work on it. “We’ll just sprinkle it in,” Jenny said. I could go along with that.

We tackled my four jobs first. I told her I felt like I had the ability to do all of these really great things, but I didn’t know how to pick just one, or even two to pursue. She helped me break it down and get it on paper. Once we did some simple evaluation and took a look at it, I was blown away. Right there, in black and white, I could see what was most important to me out of my four “jobs.” Blogging was by far and away my number one passion. It was followed closely by my marketing job, then came the café (which lost major points in the income category), and trailing abysmally behind was the one I was putting the most effort into – my IT company. According to that sheet of paper, it was my least favorite thing to do. And I had to agree.

“What can we take off your plate?” Jenny asked. Jenny always asks the hard questions. I drew my breath in sharply and deeply. Hearing me, she said, “Why don’t you spend some time on this one. Let me know what you come up with.” I talked over it with friends, and I thought about it. I looked at that sheet of paper and my decision was clear. I’ve since put the company on indefinite hold. I still have one client who doesn’t require much attention at the moment, but no efforts are being made to attract new ones. I’ve been able to concentrate on my blog more and to scale back my hours at the café so that it’s less work and more just-for-fun.

Jenny challenges me to step outside my boundaries in order to pursue what I want. At her suggestion, I have: asked for my hours to be changed at work, found a mentor at the corporate level, taken a relaxing bath, and have begun researching business schools for my MBA. I didn’t even know I wanted to get an MBA before I started working with Jenny. I was afraid to say that I want the thing that everyone says I don’t need.

One major exercise we did was crafting my life purpose statement. This single sentence would be a tuning fork for my entire life that I could use at any point to see if I was “in tune” with what I felt my life’s purpose was. I was definitely skeptical. After all, I’ve spent at least 14 years trying to find my purpose in life. I was a philosophy major, for crying out loud. In one hour, I’m going to find my life purpose. Yeah, right.

Yeah, right! My life purpose statement kicks some major ass. It is Holly with a capital H. I can go through my week knocking that tuning fork and know pretty much whether or not I’m lined up with my life’s purpose. It soothes me, it invigorates me, but most importantly, it reminds me of who I am and who I want to be. A life purpose statement is really personal, so I’m not going to share it here. You’ll just have to become friends with me and ask.

What Jenny does as a life coach is help define my goal and bring it into focus. We find my obstacles, which are usually my own limits, and then she promptly challenges me to knock them down. She does this with warmth, passion, enthusiasm and empathy. If we were in the same town, I have no doubt every meeting would end with a squeeze. But the woman will make you work – trust me. And in that work, you find yourself. You find these amazing little gems (courage, confidence, self-awareness) that were already inside of you, but you just didn’t know how to access.

I feel more in tune with myself and with my goals, and I feel more confident in the path I’m taking to achieve them. So often my 20s have felt like blindly groping for I-don’t-know-what in a black room. Jenny helps me shed a little light on what I’m looking for and how to grab it.

Coffee makes my life better

Happy National Coffee Day (Sept. 29)! I’m not really sure who or what association has dubbed it thus, but I don’t need a whole lot of convincing to give over a whole day of celebration to my beverage of choice.

Most of my readers are aware of my obsession with coffee and my lifelong dream to one day own a café. What I’ve been thinking about lately is why I love coffee so much. There are a lot of reasons, but when you get down to the core of it, coffee has plain made my life better. I’m not even being melodramatic. Allow me to explain.

It was hard growing up in my house. I love both my folks to death, but when I was in high school my dad was addicted. My mom worked later than he did, so that meant that when I came straight home from school, it was just he and I. I was never afraid of my dad, but it wasn’t always pleasant to be around him without a buffer, like my mom. I got a car my junior year of high school and a weekend job. I no longer had to be at home right after school.

Enter the coffee house.

There is one place where a high school kid can go and remain for hours on end for only a few bucks. I found solace in cafés. All I needed was enough to buy an Americano and a bagel. I would sit for hours immersed in homework, SAT prep and whatever Truman Capote or Heidegger book I was reading at the time. I didn’t have to go home. I didn’t have to face uncertainty. Over time, everyone knew me, and they were happy to see me. They knew what I would order. Baristas became my friends and the hours I spent there stretched out. I belonged.

I truly believe that’s one reason I feel so at home in cafés and coffee shops. No matter what city or country I’m in, the local coffee shop welcomes me. It is familiar and it is safe and it is in my soul. I’m pretty sure that’s also why I want to open my own café. I love the idea of providing a haven that was so generously given to me.

The other way coffee has genuinely made my life better is the way it brings me into the present. I have a hard time staying in the moment. I don’t think that’s unique to me; I imagine a lot of people have trouble with it. Otherwise, Zen Buddhism wouldn’t exist, right?

Coffee is to me what wine is to oenophiles. I can tell you what the best origins are, what the acidity level is and how it affects the flavor, and my favorite extraction method. I drink it black so I can taste the different notes of the bean – bright, fruity, nutty, robust, bold, etc. I like to add flavors that play up those notes. My favorite is a soy almond latte. The almond and soy bring out the nutty quality of the espresso. Or adding cinnamon to an Americano. It brings out the spice.

My point is that when I’m paying attention to the flavors, my senses are sharpened. I take in everything around me – the air, the light, what’s going on in my life, my surroundings, how I feel. For example, this past Christmas was my first sober Christmas. And it was the first time I was spending it away from my immediate family or a boyfriend’s family. I woke up that morning alone in my apartment with my little Christmas tree, brewed some coffee and took my mug to the stairs outside my door. As I sipped, I let the moment set in. The air was crisp and cool. I was sober; I was employed, and I was single and happy. I knew I might never be there again – alone on Christmas, that is. And I savored it as I drank my coffee.

As silly as it sounds, coffee is a part of my soul for these reasons. I’ve stopped at different points in my life, but I always come back to it because it comforts me and it feels right. Besides, I was told caffeine was the only drug I could do in sobriety. Har har.

Anybody else got some good coffee stories?

A schedule monger no longer

When I was in high school and college, I did not doodle fruitlessly as so many other students did. Well, I did that too, but I what I really loved was making schedules of my to-do lists. Take your typical to-do list, put it on steroids and map it across the hours. I made to-do schedules for the rest of the day (drawn up in quarter-hours and containing items like “eat dinner” and “read Being and Time pgs 48-101) all the way up to the month, semester, even year (divided up by months and containing items like “graduate” and “find job”).

It soothed me. When I got my new job (15 months ago now) and started my various other jobs, meetings, dating, etc. I bought a good old paper day tracker and carried it with me everywhere. It’s pretty cool to look back to a year ago and see what I was doing then. It is way more detailed than my memory.

Lately, though, my schedule-making hasn’t been soothing me.

Ever since Date #4 and I became exclusive, the art of scheduling has started to elude me. Some of you might say this is a good thing, that being so scheduled is being too rigorous and well, uptight. Date #4 is not a plans kind of guy, which does get under my skin a bit. I don’t think either of us is right or wrong, like I might’ve believed in the past (pre-sobriety); it’s just a difference in the way we live our lives. The cool thing is that he recognizes it and understands me. The other morning, for example, I asked if he was staying over later that night. He wasn’t sure. Around lunch, he still didn’t know: “I know you don’t like not knowing, but I’m still not sure yet.” I was OK with that. I merely wanted to know whether or not I should go ahead and fix dinner for myself.

So, part of the problem is that since Date #4’s plans are never settled, I don’t feel settled. If it were up to me, I would have everything through this weekend planned. It’s very uncomfortable for me to not even know whether or not he’s going to be in town, if we're going to hang out, etc. Not because of him, but because schedules soothe me. They are predictable and I know what to expect. The underlying roots of this are actually one of the things I’m working on with my counselor.

The real reason my schedule-making hasn’t had the soothing effect I’m used to getting is that now that I realize why it is that I do it. I also realize that becoming upset when things don’t go according to plan and sticking to it for the sake of sticking to it are just manifestations of a perceived threat, that threat being inconsistency and instability, which are not actually present in my life.

Looking back at a post from just a few months ago, I realize how far I’ve come. And that in itself soothes me.

It's not your job to be smart anymore

What is it that I loved about college? I’ve been trying to figure it out because I’ve been thinking about grad school again. I think about grad school about once a year (I think it’s the school-supply air of fall that does it), and wonder if I ought to revive my collegiate goal of becoming a professor. It still appeals to me, and my latest variation includes a marriage of my two fantasies – adjunct professor and business owner.

But really, I think I just want to be in college again, to be a student again. I was a good student. I mean, I was really good at it. I’d really like to give my senior year another shot though. I used to brag about the fact that I was drunk when I wrote the majority of my 83-page thesis in just one month. I got an A-. Imagine what I could’ve done sober.

I did love being a student. I loved to read and extract the ideas, put them in a historical context, spin them together with something new. I could write a 12-to-15-page paper on almost anything in 3.4 hours and consistently earn high marks. One professor like my ideas on Kurt Vonnegut and Thorstein Veblen so much, he invited me to do an independent study with him.

None of that matters in my job, and it doesn’t matter in the majority of the business world. I’m sure there are companies and positions where it does matter, but the reality is that once you leave college, nobody is asking you to make a business of having an informed mind, questioning the way your mind works, or finding an outlet for your creativity. That’s been the truth I’ve found anyway.

And that’s fine for a lot of people. But four years after graduation, I find myself craving it again. I’d left college with the idea that I needed a year or two of “life” before going to grad school, so I didn’t burn out, so I could be sure. I sure have lived, that’s certain.

Finding purpose amid confusion

My life has been accidental. Not to be dramatic, but even my start was an accident… well, I wasn’t planned anyway. But who has control over their childhood?

My adult life has been scattershot, too much choice equaling paralysis. The only thing I’m sure I chose with any conviction was my college major, philosophy. Even there though, I never could choose a philosophy to defend and call my own. The only one I pursued with any real enthusiasm was existentialism, that hodgepodge of thinkers who couldn’t settle on a name of their own or even agree that they were in the same school of thought.

That’s not to say I lacked conviction. Let’s get that straight. After all, I think that’s what I write about – conviction searching for direction.

Here I am, though, four years after graduation, in a city I never meant to stay in, in a job I took because it was available, waiting to hear about a job I’m not sure I should take, except that it would bring about a desired effect – the removal of me from this town. (If you are reading this, dear potentially future employer, don’t worry – I am a terrific hire. Ask anyone.)

I can feel it creeping up in me now, however. Freedom. Options. An opinion.

The past few weeks have been such a struggle. I felt like everything was cloudy – even my face was cloudy, my thoughts, everything. I was so afraid I wouldn’t make it out of that fog. Then I recognized it; I remembered that the fog always brings clarity, that the pain precedes growth. I could feel it, but didn’t know what was growing, improving. I’m blind to that stuff a lot of times.

It hasn’t cleared up entirely, but it’s so light I can tell it’s almost over. I’m beginning to know what I want now. It’s so simple, I think I probably knew before but clouded it all up with other people’s ideas, what other people wanted for their own lives, thinking somehow it would be easier to want what they wanted, that what I wanted wasn’t enough, but I realize now that none of that matters. There really are no standards for life, no measuring sticks or rulers.

What brought me out of the fog was a perfect, turbulent storm. As it got stormier, I knew I just needed to ride through it, weather it.

And finally, I was present.

I stood perfectly in that moment, though it was a sad, heartbreaking moment, and I savored it for what it was – one moment in my journey.

When I was in that tailspin, I wanted to be anywhere other than where I was. Ballerinas keep themselves from getting dizzy while they spin by focusing on one spot with each revolution. When I stood still in my moment, not wishing to be anywhere except right there, I stopped spinning. Everything was clear.

While I never really know what one day will bring after this one, I’m done living life on accident. I’m not sure what form my purpose will take, but I know what it is. And that’s enough for today.

Interviews, arguments, solocations

I’m sitting in an Austin coffee shop, staring out at the traffic passing by on their way to and from the university. A couple is arguing themselves in circles, even though they’ve already broken up. I’m having my first Clover brewed cup of coffee and appreciating that a drip coffee doesn’t taste bitter. I grab my headphones and turn the volume all the way up so I don’t jump in the couple’s fight and tell the girl she’s a hypocrite. I’m meant to relax now.

I just finished my interview a few hours ago, and it went well. I’m trying not to think of what it means or might mean. I’m trying not to run my own personal troop withdraw time tables, not to figure out how much my present salary would equal in this higher cost of living market. I’m trying not to think of what it would mean for my own struggling relationship, trying not to hear the couple’s conversation that reminds me of the tears-inducing talk Date #4 and I had earlier this week.

No, I’m in Austin. I can tell this is my city. I plan to spend the next few days falling in love with it.

The stress leading into this interview has been unreal. Not only was I stressed out about the interview, but about the travel surrounding it, my relationship problems, and some financial issues that have surfaced. I really couldn’t afford it, but I needed a vacation. So, I’m taking one. I figured a stay at a mental facility would cost a lot more than the bed and breakfast I rented. Har har.

Even here, people seem a little surprised that I’m alone on vacation. I’m calling it my "solocation." I need some time to myself to not think for a while. I brought about 10 books with me, a journal and that’s about it. I’ve got the B&B until Saturday morning and I don’t need to be back in Corpus Christi until Monday. I’m not really sure where I’ll go or what I’ll do. I’ve got my car, a state parks pass and an adventurous spirit. So far all I’ve wanted to do is not pick up my phone, take a nap and eat something.

I do love not having any plans. I love not having anything to do, no place in particular to go. I especially love not knowing anybody.

Adventure.

Create a soundtrack to your life

One of my favorite childhood memories is of my parents’ record collection. I would sit in front of our stereo with the records spread over the living room carpet, balancing the much-too-large headphones over my ears. I would close my eyes and listen with delight, awe and sadness to The Kinks, Peter Frampton, Janis Joplin, Cream, Chicago, and the Allman Brothers. What I heard affected me.

It’s a wonder my parents didn’t guess I would be a DJ and run a radio station one day.

Music can move me in a way nothing else can. When people ask me about my spirituality, I tell them that it’s one part music, one part night sky and one part ocean (gawd, I sound like a hippie). Nothing gets at my soul as quickly and profoundly as music does. I can still spend an evening happily with my headphones on lying on my own living room floor, just in front of my computer now instead of a hi-fi.

After spending this past Saturday night hanging out with GIWS listening to music and talking for a few hours, he pointed out a habit I’ve known about for a while. “You and your kicks,” he said. “You get on these kicks with certain albums.” It’s true. I tend to take an album, whether it just came out or I suddenly get the urge to revisit it, and I listen to it over and over and over. For like weeks, usually months at a time, until I’m absolutely sick of it and can’t stand to hear it for another 6 months or so.

The really amazing thing about my little habit, which has annoyed the crap out of almost every boyfriend I’ve had who doesn’t understand my relationship to music, is that it creates an aural memory-inducer. In layman’s terms, later in life when I hear a song from that “kick” it takes me instantly back to that few weeks or months of my life.

It’s fantastic.

When I hear Death Cab For Cutie’s “The Photo Album,” I am swept instantly back to my sophomore year of college. I was playing it non-stop in the fall of that year, and it reminds me of my best friend Amanda, trying to repress my shouted requests when they toured through Orlando that year, and making out with a cute, cute boy to track #3.

When I hear Coldplay’s “Parachutes,” I am instantly sitting on the shared upstairs porch with my dorm mate Heeral, drunkenly shouting the lyrics after sauntering back to campus as a freshman who somehow didn’t get carded at a British pub. It always reminds me of the way you could tell she was drunk because she’d start speaking with a British accent.

When I hear Neil Halstead’s “Sleeping on Roads,” I can vividly remember my first apartment in Orlando and how gorgeous the spring was that year, my junior year of college. I would put it on while doing little things, like putting clean, hot pink sheets on my bed or sitting in my favorite chair (a hideous green wool La-Z-Boy I bought for $5 at a garage sale) overlooking second-story trees in bloom while reading. It reminds me of much simpler times.

What I’ve done with my play-the-crap-out-of-it habit is create a soundtrack to my life. The Verve is what I listened to my first month of sobriety, and “Lucky Man” is the official song of my sober life. Pete Yorn is what I listened to as I fell for GIWS. And now, as I go through what I can only describe as a new painful period of growth, I am stuck on Radiohead’s “The Bends.”

I don’t fight it because I know that it will help me get through today and that one day in the future I’ll hear it and be swept back to these days, fondly remembering how I didn’t know yet what was in store for me. Maybe that’s the fun part of making the memory – realizing that this will be the past one day and that I might as well enjoy where I’m at.

Looking foolish along the way

Eating crow: humiliation by admitting wrongness or having been proven wrong after taking a strong position

Eat humble pie: to apologize and face humiliation for a serious error

I’m not sure either of these describes exactly how I feel, but they come close. I had a particularly, and unexpectedly, emotional day. Around noon, I learned that a friend’s sister overdosed last night. I didn’t know the sister, but this recovering alcoholic can tell you that there is something about hearing that this disease has claimed another person that shakes you at your core. I believe it was that shaken state that allowed everything to bubble up to the surface.

I can’t write list posts or tell you how to get through your first day of work or even how to make more room in your life for love. The only real thing I have to offer is a candid view of the way I live my life, and to be as achingly honest about it as possible. And I’ve been wrong. About several things.

It started innocently enough. I stopped by Old Navy on my way home from work to pick up a pair of pajama shorts since it’s become clear to me that Date #4 will not take the hint and leave behind the necessary boyfriend boxers I would prefer to sleep in. While there, I decided to be a good auntie to my cousin’s 1-year-old daughter and pick up a few cute little things. I dumped it all on the bed when I got home, changed into my new shorts (ah…) and stared at the clothes. They were so cute, so little, and I couldn’t wait to see her in them. A feeling started to come up… and I shoved it back down.

All day, I’d been shoving it back down.

The loss of my friend’s sister stirred up my still-raw emotions over the loss of my friend Maureen back in March. I shoved it back down. Date #4 not being able to spend his birthday weekend with me stirred up feelings of jealousy, resentment and fear. I shoved it back down. As I stared down at the little girl’s clothes, it stirred up emotions of something I’d lost years ago, and I shoved that down too.

But it wouldn’t stay down.

As I tried to finish going about my night (I needed to blog, get my work and running clothes ready, make some concrete business decisions…), it just wouldn’t stay down. Something wasn’t right. It’s been this way for a few months but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I thought it was maybe my sinuses, maybe not exercising, not having my work and life balanced just the right way or not doing the right kind of work. I searched, all the while shooing away this nagging feeling that I wasn’t working something important out. Shoved it down.

It came up. All at once.

I miss Maureen and her death has affected me. I can’t ignore that. I don’t want to feel that pain because it is so very strong. I am missing a friend, a person who totally got me, who gave to me and took from me, to whom I told “I love you” every time we said goodbye. I wasn’t dealing with those feelings, that grief. I ignored it.

What I really want when I imagine a good, fine life for myself is to own my own café, just as I envisioned it in December, an airy cozy shop full of funky vintage furniture, good coffee and an owner (me!) who knows everybody. I would be in a cool town, maybe not too big but too small. Somehow I got the notion into my head that it just wasn’t grand enough a business for a smarty-pants like me. So I shelved it, said it was best left for retirement.

The most startling realization to you, my readers, might be what else I see in this picture. As I run my own successful café, I very clearly see children running around my shop. I want children. Three years ago, I was an alcohol who could not bring myself to bring a child into my world. That experience has been far more impacting than I ever thought, and fear has driven me in that regard.

I realize now that when it comes to the emotional things in my life, it’s going to take much longer to heal than I thought. It wouldn’t say much about my friendship with Maureen if I weren’t still moved to tears a mere five months later. I am. It wouldn’t be treating my disease with enough respect to think that the choices I made years ago because of my drinking would just go away on their own. They haven’t.

As to my business choices, I think I simply veered off course looking for something perhaps a little more glamorous, a little more grand than my simple dream of owning my own coffee shop. But now that I’m back there, it’s like a warm blanket, familiar and just right.

In some respects, I’m back where I was in December, which isn’t necessarily bad. I feel a little sheepish, a little humbled admitting that my ego inflated as I attempted to fluff myself up to meet these grand ideas. I don’t always know what I’m doing. I thought I was just putting on a brave face. When I put a brave face on, I only fool myself. And fool myself, I did.

Life is a tricky thing. I’m skeptical of anyone who says they’ve got it all figured out. Especially in these early years, as we try to form ideas of who we want to be and how we can become those people, certainly we’ll look a little foolish along the way. I guess I’m just happy to be trying.

The public library: A lesson in resourcefulness

I’ve been a bookworm all my life. If you ask my mom, she’ll tell you it’s the result of her reading books to me in utero. My older sister taught me to read when I was 4 years old, and before that I would memorize the books as they were read to me and recite them, pretending to read. My mom and I read Edgar Allen Poe collections every night before bed when I was 8, and my dad got me into Ray Bradbury at the ripe old age of 9. I had a voracious reading appetite. I would read anything I could get my hands on.

I don’t remember any Barnes & Nobles or Borders when I was a kid. Even if they’d been around our town, I don’t think we would have gone there. We grew up pretty poor, and my parents had to be resourceful with what we did have. With a kid who burned through books faster than most kids change television channels, even the used bookstores were pricey.

Enter the public library.

Now, somehow I forgot about the library. I love books, clearly. I love the covers, I love the words, I even love the way used books smell (they’ve got personality; they’ve traveled). My dad used to get mad when I left my books on the ground or got them wet in the bathtub – “You should respect your books, Holly,” he would say.

Once I’ve read a book, I want to hang onto it. It’s part of the family. I lugged my books with me all the way to college, then from Orlando to south Texas, and packed and unpacked them at – count ‘em – yep, six apartments in the past four years. Everything from Jane Austen to existentialist philosophy, Henry VIII biographies to Gabriel Garcia Marquez fill my shelves, my nightstand, the floors. I even love listening to books in the car.

It’s not like times haven’t been tough before. Sure, I could say it’s the rising price of gas or the fear of a soft job economy that led me to think of the public library today. Honestly, I can’t remember how I thought of it. But I called my friend Mel and asked if she was willing to go on a little adventure this afternoon. Off we went to La Retama Central Library.

Thus, I became a card-carrying member of the Corpus Christi public library system today. I checked out two audiobooks and two paperbacks. The Barnes & Noble price would’ve been $67.88 before taxes. My public library price: $0.00. 

Needless to say, I was thrilled walking through the aisles of my new lending library this afternoon. I greeted familiar titles like they were old friends, and felt downright triumphant when I found books I’d wanted to read for ages, but didn’t fit into my budget.

Nothing’s been so easy as getting my library card. I simply filled out a half-page form and showed my ID. It took less than five minutes and I was on my way, clutching my new treasures. I don’t even have to return them to the same library – I can take them to whichever one I want when I’m done. If I need longer at the end of two weeks, I can go online to renew them.

Tough economic times, whether they are caused by a recession or an entry-level salary, can either keep us from continuing our lives, or we can get resourceful, much like my parents did. I have a theory that the most creativity comes when we have limitations or obstacles to overcome. What are your creative solutions to maintaining your simple pleasures? Have you been to your public library lately?

The immeasurable hidden cost of high gas prices

I hadn’t written a blog post in a few days, almost a week actually. I was fresh out of ideas and inspiration. Granted, I had blogged for a good four or five days in a row, but still. Sitting at my desk at work, my eyes had glazed over in computer screen hypnosis. I skipped lunch and needed to get out, empty gas tank be damned.

As I drove, they started coming to me – ideas for blog posts. By the time I got to the café, I’d thought of and developed four solid articles in my head. I realized as I grabbed my coffee and settled at a table that I’d been completely lost the entire drive over. It came together – I hadn’t been driving as much as I normally do because gas prices were (are) ridiculously high. I stayed at Date #4’s place all week, which is 5 minutes from work as opposed to the 25 minutes it takes from my place. Sure, I saved a bundle on gas, but at what cost?

In my life, I don’t get a lot of alone time. Nothing compared to people with kids, but in comparison to being single, alone time is scarce these days. As I was telling Date #4 just yesterday, there are some things I’ll only do when I’m bored. Mainly, cleaning and tidying up in general, but I would lump “getting blog ideas” in there as well.

The high cost of gas has me thinking about a scene in “Singles” (one of my all-time favorite movies… I still heart you, Cameron Crowe, even though you made “Elizabethtown”). The main character is telling his love interest about a light rail transit project he’s proposing to his city. As he’s explaining all of the benefits, she says, “Yeah, but I love my car.” 

Perhaps we love our cars because it’s the one place where we don’t have to deal with people. Or maybe it's because it can become our one-man karaoke machine. Or perhaps it’s just the place were we get our best ideas.

Either way, our dependence on oil might make the long car trip a thing of the past. Instead of thoughtfully losing ourselves in the highway, we’re watching our odometers and our gas gauges, calculating times between stop lights on our daily routes so that we don’t have to brake or come to a full stop (hey, it saves gas).

I’m not saying we shouldn’t save on gas, I’m just saying that unless we get some sort of alternative fuel, our old ways will die. And with them goes an untold number of little streams of creativity and peace.

Photo from Flickr Creative Commons user freeparking.

Hold me... accountable, that is

In an earlier post, I announced that I would begin a new accountability regime: posting my goals and my progress toward them to this blog once a month. Several of you, both readers and fellow bloggers, expressed interest in doing the same. I'm inviting everyone to participate who would like to post something similar on their blogs. Email me your blog entries and I'll post them links to them here as well.

Without any further ado, I give you my first Hold Me Accountable post.

Physical
This is probably the area where I've lost the most steam as of late. It is also the one that I would like to get back on track with the most. When I treat my body well, it treats me well. Everything else runs so much more smoothly in my life when I feel good physically. There are three components to my physical goals: exercise, diet and overall health.

Exercise
I took up running in late December last year. I put running down around the beginning of May. I had been training for a relay marathon and once it was over, so was the training. I need a goal in order to stay motivated in my running, even though I love it. I know I'm going to feel good after a run (phenomenal, actually), but the motivation I need is when I really don't feel like waking up early and lacing up my shoes. So, I'm going to sign up for a half-marathon. I'm confident I can do it if I start training now. I'll do short runs on Mondays, hard runs on Wednesdays, cross-train on Saturdays and long runs on Sundays.
Goals: Sign up for half-marathon in October; beginning training schedule.

Diet
I don't mean diet in the sense that I'm trying to lose weight. I'm not. I simply want to give my body good fuel, not crap. The main threat to my diet is the vending machines at work. If I forget (or am too lazy) to make my lunch, I'm known to eat a lunch of chips and soda. Blech. I've already begun to make dinner at night and bring leftovers to work. Note: This helps financial goals as well - double-plus bonus! I'm also really bad about keeping my refrigerator at home stocked. When it's full, not only do I eat better and save money on eating out, but it gives me an odd sense of fulfillment. Hmm.
Goals: Cut out soda, vending machine snacks; bring healthy lunches and snacks to work; keep home fridge stocked.

Health
You've heard me complain about my sinus infections ad nauseum, I know. I bought a neti pot (for nasal irrigation) because I heard from many, many sources that it works wonders. I've been too chicken to try it, even though I feel confident it will help. I've been battling some serious fatigue, probably due to sinus infections and not exercising, which is added incentive for the workout routine. Finally, it's been about 3 years (!) since I've been to the dentist. Yikes.
Goals: Use neti pot three times a week for one month; see dentist.

Relationships
My biggest issue with my relationships right now is that I'm spending an awful lot of time with a certain someone instead of spending some time with myself, my friends and my family. This was fine and well in the budding stages of the relationship, but now that things have settled down a bit I desperately need to hook back up with my friends and fam.
Goals: Hang out with my three best friends for some serious QT at least once this month; visit my aunt and my grandmother.

Career
For now, thing seem to be going really well with my 8-5 job. I'm relatively focused and my recent annual performance evaluation was stellar (including a raise!). Guess where nothing is happening? That's right - my business. uSavvy, my IT consultancy, has one client, no actual tax ID number, nothing, plus a website that's just sitting there, all designed and hosted and not actually up. Include my blog in here, and I haven't been posting as regularly as I would like, which is about 3-4 times per week.
Goals: Obtain tax ID number and sole proprietor status; open bank account; finish site buildout and get online; buy business cards; write business plan; blog 3-4 times per week.

Financial
I have two areas I'm currently working on financially. I've got terrible credit (hey, I drank heavily during those pivotal post-college years), and practically no savings... OK, no savings if you aren't counting that $50 in my ING Orange savings account. I started the ball rolling on this one yesterday though. My pay increase will show up in my next paycheck and instead of rejoicing at the extra money, I already set up an autodraft for the increase amount to pay down my credit card. I also have an autodraft set up for a student loan I am rehabilitating, as well as one for $50 per paycheck to my savings account. Once the credit card is paid down, I will up my savings autodraft to include the amount from the pay increase. The problem with my savings account is that I almost always tap into it. I'm a little more solid financially right now, so my goal is not to do that.
Goals: Pay off credit card in 2.5 months; continue savings without touching it.

Spirituality
I don't talk about my spirituality very much on this blog, even though it's a big part of my life. The truth is that I've been a little disappointed in my spirituality lately... or my lack thereof. I'm not a churchgoer, that's just not for me. However, I do pray and meditate. I include my sobriety as part of this picture because the way I stay sober is to work a spiritual program. I go to three or four 12-step meetings every week, but I'd like to start branching out a little more into more groups besides my home group, particularly to this one young people's group. I'd also like to try to meditate in the mornings, even if it's just for a short time period.
Goals: Attend one non-home group 12-step meeting per week; meditate twice a week.

General
Finally, this part relates to my overall life goals, mood and emotions. I'd say lately I've been in a funk. Definitely in a funk. It's not enough for me to focus on my short-term goals, so I need to keep my long-term goals on the burners, too. I really would like to move to a larger city. I would like to either advance to the next level of my career in research or I would like to take my business full-time. I would like to be a less selfish person on a day-to-day basis. The other day I realized at the end of the day that I was the only person I had thought about all day. That sucks. And I'm guessing that it probably also makes me a pretty obnoxious person to deal with.
Goals: Mostly just to keep my larger life goals top-of-mind; try to think of other people and how I affect them throughout my day.

I will keep you all up-to-date with my progress on a monthly basis, at the very least. I hope that some of you will jump in and participate. It would be really great to have a community of people who are all holding each other accountable, encouraging one another and learning what works and what doesn't in real time, wouldn't it?

Related articles:
Got goals? Hold yourself accountable
How baby steps became a huge deal
Stand up and be accounted
How I change my habits

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Got goals? Hold yourself accountable

I’m having a little accountability issue. As in, I have none. I have a lot of goals, not just in my career, but also in my personal life, my finances and my health. As I’ve struggled to regain my footing after falling in love, I’ve come to find my real issue is now that I simply lack the motivation to accomplish on a day-to-day basis, and that daily action is critical to the fulfillment of larger goals.

I know one thing to be true when it comes to setting goals and achieving them: the most surefire method is to chip away at it one step at a time. Daily action is necessary. If you want to train to run a marathon, you’ve got to actually put your shoes on and go for a run. If you want to pay off your credit cards, you cannot charge anything to them today. I prefer to live one day at a time this way. When I start to use the word “tomorrow,” I get myself into a world of trouble. I won’t accomplish much with “I’ll run tomorrow” or “I’ll stop using my credit card tomorrow.” This method of goal procrastination will leave you stranded. You just need to start.

Enter accountability. Now that you’ve decided to go through with the daily action method you could use a little reinforcement. I used to get this through Guy I Was Seeing. Though we’re still friends, I don’t get to talk to him as much as I used to. Read more about what an accountability partner can do for you here.

What happens if you can’t find an accountability partner or group? Or if you’re the only one who ever does anything in said partnership/group? I’m not sure, but I’m taking a stab with my blog. Yep, you guys are now my accountability partners. I find it hard to make excuses to you all… mostly because my lame excuses look really bad in print. That, and I’ve sworn to be as honest and as transparent as possible.

I know I won’t meet all of my goals 100 percent of the time, but the nice thing about accountability partners is not the negative pressure – it’s the positive pressure. It’s reassuring to think you guys know what my goals are, what I’m doing to get there, and that you get to see the results when I do what I say and when I don’t. It might be corny and a little arrogant, but for some reason I have the feeling that you guys have my back.

All mushiness aside, my monthly accountability posts will basically have a “where I’m at” theme. I’ll review my goals, what I’ve done, what I haven’t done and what I plan to do. The areas in which I will be accountable are broad: physical (exercise, health, diet), relationships (family, significant other, friends), career (job, entrepreneurship), financial (credit, savings), spirituality (meditation, sobriety), general (emotion, mood, life goals).

I realize that not everyone wants to read about me, me, me, but my hope is that my transparency in these things will allow people to see what really works… and what really doesn’t. I’ll be posting the first one tomorrow.

How do you stay accountable? How do you reach your goals, little and big?

Your personal style matters... now give it some thought

I’m not happy with my personal style lately. It’s sort of been ongoing since I got sober and lost some weight… and you know, stopped spending all my money on booze. I’ve told myself that part of the problem is that I don’t have a lot of money to spend on new clothes, but I think there’s a little more to it than that. I would say the real problem is that I don’t give it much thought until I’m actually in a store, ready to buy some item that I need. Seeing as I give almost everything in my life too much thought, I thought that was a little ironic.

Whether we like it or not, we’re judged at a moment’s glance by our outward image. And as much as the BF hems and haws about appearances not mattering, he plays by the rules and wears a suit to the office every day, even Fridays. In our careers, in dating, we’re judged first by our appearance and our clothing does a lot of the talking. (I wasn’t sure if I was attracted to Date #4 when we met – he was wearing a suit and I always say that it blocked any read I was trying to get from him.)

I’ve been watching the preliminary back-to-school ads roll in, and it amazes me how much time and thought middle and high school kids put into their clothing choices. Their clothes (in their minds) say so much about them – what group they belong to, what kind of music they listen to, what their socioeconomic status is, how in tune they are with trends, which causes they support (if any). Why this is, is an entirely different subject that I don’t wish to touch on here. What it did, though, was prompt me to look at my style choices and think about what they said about me.

That’s when I realized that my style choices weren’t really so much choices as they were lazy acquiesces. I live in a town with few clothing options, but I’m not sure I would be much better off anywhere else.

I love:
Blazers
3/4-sleeve jackets
Cardigans
Dark jeans
Vintage-y blouses
‘40s inspired dresses, shoes, hair… well, anything really
Splashes of bright color
Scarves
Preppy-style flats
Colorful, vintage heels
Long dresses

How much of this do I own? Er… none. I do have a few cardigans, but they’re pretty much a necessity in my 60-degree office. Oh, and I own about 7 pairs of dark jeans, but all in the same style and cut from the same store. Even I know that’s wrong.

Looking at this list, I can see that this is actually how I used to dress in high school. My mom hated taking me shopping – I never saw anything I liked unless we were at a Goodwill. Luckily, times have changed and Anthropologie picked up what I was throwing down. Anyhow, I did think that it said something about me. Like today’s teenagers, I was keenly aware of the message I was trying to send. I was eclectic, creative, a little hip, a little bohemian, a non-conformist, an intellectual.

How many of us can say we put that much thought into our wardrobe post-high school or college? I grab whatever Express is offering that month in the way of office-appropriate attire within my budget and that’s about it. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a personal style again?

It’s not just about sending an arbitrary message about who I think I am. After all, if you’re worthwhile and think I’m worthwhile, we’ll get to know each other and you’ll figure out who I am. When my outer self matches my inner self, who it is that I am, I’m a lot happier. Plain and simple, if I actually enjoy the clothes I’m wearing, then I’m a lot happier overall. I also feel a lot more at home in social situations. I feel more comfortable projecting who I am when I’m not tugging on uncomfortable clothes that don’t fit right. And, of course, I wouldn’t mind standing out from the crowd a little.

In an age when personal branding seems to be all the rage, why are we sticking ourselves in the same suits and brands as everyone else? Why aren’t we spending more time thinking about how our “look” corresponds to our personal brand, our goals, and where we want to go?

Some questions to ask yourself about your personal style:
• How would I like people to see me? Use descriptive adjectives: polished, bohemian, put-together, artsy, sleek, glamorous, etc.
• How would I describe myself in a few words? Are you a corporate go-getter, an intellectual, a tech geek, a trendsetter, outdoorsy, creative?
• What styles do I identify with? What words describe them? Do those words describe me?
• What are some items I really like? Do I currently have them in my collection?
• How do my clothing choices affect me on a daily basis? Am I happier when I wear certain colors? Certain styles?

Me, personally, I’m going to start holding out for items that fit with my now clearly defined personal style. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to rethink those 7 pairs of jeans…

All images from Anthropologie.com.

Why I might be OK with having children

If you haven’t read my previous post about my issues with mamahood, then go for it so you can get an idea of how serious I’ve been about not wanting kids. My sentiments are also echoed here and here [hat tip: Penelope Trunk; TwentySet]. Now, bear in my mind that the decision I’m scrutinizing is my own, and not the decision of whether or not to have kids in the empirical sense.

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about this lately, primarily because (of course) it is an issue in my fledgling relationship. Granted, we’ve both agreed that it’s not an immediate issue, but he would like to have at least one child with whomever he marries. It’s no secret that I’m crazy about the man, but I’m not willing to agree to children just because that’s what he wants.

We have had a lot of conversations about it though, and it's got me thinking about it on my own. As I began to examine my issues with having kids, talking about it openly and honestly with friends of differing ages, marital and child status, and watching people with kids more closely, I started to realize how close-minded I’ve been.

I began to realize that my problem is not with actually having kids, but that they become an end in themselves and not a side effect of living the life I’d like.

A few things happened leading up to this realization. One, I’ve been talking with a mentor of mine who is 50 and has the coolest relationship with her daughter I’ve ever seen. I have no qualms being totally open and honest with her, even with the ugliest parts of myself. She pointblank told me one afternoon that I was being close-minded when it came to my thinking regarding family life. I realized that I was assigning arbitrary labels to people and making assumptions about their lives based upon that. Married, divorced, middle-aged, overweight, with or without kids, single, thin, etc. Does the label make the experience of the life?

Somewhere around that same time I was leaving Date #4’s house, and an early-thirties-ish couple walked by with a stroller and a grandparent in tow. They were just taking a Fourth of July stroll after a fresh rain, chatting and such. “That’s probably the best thing that could ever happen to me,” was the unwelcome thought that popped into my head. Whoa. Where’d that come from?

On my drive home, I rolled it around in my head and realized the truth of it. I’ve seen a lot of families that are happy, in which the parents continue to live dreams independent of their children. While their families greatly enhance their happiness, their kids are supplemental to the happiness that they already experience in life. They are not, and never did, expect children to be the main source of their happiness in life. They are simply one of the aspects of their life that they derive joy out of.

I have been watching a few families in my life since I began to seriously evaluate this issue. One is a young couple who have probably the cutest baby girl I’ve ever seen. I’ve said before that if I could insure that a child of mine would come out that cute, happy and well-mannered, I’d have kids without a doubt. The thing is that I watch the parents, too. They’re happy, and appear to be very much in love. I’m not close to them, and so they may have more problems than I’m aware, but they seem like fairly transparent people. I see them together, separate, and with their families. I won’t lie – there is a part of me that craves a normal family life because of the dysfunctional part of mine. They are always friendly and seem to possess a sense of peace about their lives.

I also watch my older female mentor and her family closely. She’s been a single mom for a long time, and her daughter is a well-adjusted, intelligent young woman. She has self-confidence at 13 that I still wish I had. The openness and frankness with which they deal with the little and big things in their lives is truly inspiring to me. It gives me goose bumps. That family probably has the most irreverent sense of humor I’ve been privy to and they have a lot of fun in their lives. It’s clear that they simply enjoy the ride.

Finally, I watch the families that make me not want kids. In doing so, I’ve come to realize that the thing that bothers me is not that they have children, but what their intentions or preconceived notions were in doing so. They all have a few things in common for the most part. One is that they had their children too young and/or too soon into a relationship/marriage. I’ve watched people have kids and treat them as accessories, and I’ve seen people have kids because they wanted something to love. They were trying to fill a hole that remains unfilled. And now they have kids to take care of when they didn’t know how to take care of themselves in the first place. (Side note: I was in the ER with my grandmother last night and a 17-year-old came in with impacted bowels, i.e. constipation. Her second birth and she didn’t realize that she should’ve been drinking lots of water, eating fiber, and probably shouldn’t have waited a week to tell the doctors she hadn’t had a bowel movement. If you can’t take care of yourself, how will you raise a child?)

I guess my point is that as Gen-Y women we’ve been told that “having it all” is a myth. That makes me feel like I have to choose between my career and having a child. It’s saying that I won’t be able to do both. While I know that to some extent one suffers at the hands of the other, I’ve been watching this young couple juggle a baby and a new business successfully. By successful, I mean that the baby is clearly happy and well cared for, the business is doing very well, and they both seem extremely happy and still in love, though at times admittedly tired.

It gives me hope. Perhaps I can live life happily without any sacrifices.

Introducing a new person into your life

When I met Date #4, I wasn’t looking for anything serious. I was simply mixing a little business with pleasure when my online dating research yielded a surprising result – a dateable, attractive man with whom I was compatible. My life was run at a hectic, but efficient and highly effective pace. There simply wasn’t a whole lot of room. I liked it that way.

Things started slowly. I told him I wasn’t looking for anything serious, that I was, ahem, very busy and important. No time for a relationship, not looking for that sort of thing. He said he understood, respected my priorities, etc.

Then I fell in love with him.

The “serious” thing needed revising, obviously. As two people are apt to do when they find they enjoy one another’s company, we spent a lot of time together. 

A lot.

I stopped running. I stopped blogging as regularly. I stopped doing laundry and grocery shopping. I was deep in Cloud Cuckoo Land, as I like to call it. That place where newly formed couples spend way too long looking into each other’s eyes, sleeping really late on weekends, and having lots and lots of hot monkey sex. 

As much as I knew this was going to happen, I couldn’t stop it. Perhaps I didn’t want to stop it. What the hell? Falling in love is fantastic. Why skip all the fun stuff and move straight into routine? 

Incorporating Date #4 into my life isn’t the same as making a new friend or having a relative move into town. This is someone that I hope to have a meaningful relationship with. Anyone who has been in a relationship for a period of time knows that it takes time to get to know someone. I liked Date #4 and I wanted to learn about him – that takes time. Granted, you can take your time getting to know someone, but I tend to be an extremist with a “good” button instead of an “easy” button. If it makes me feel good or happy, I’ll slam that damn button till it’s broke. Luckily, I didn’t do that here.

Armed with a little bit of knowledge of myself and my habits, I tried to resist Cloud Cuckoo Land, but it was simply too alluring. GIWS and I had managed to see each other only once a week, twice tops, throughout the few months we dated. I tried to do this again, but to no avail.

When I got sick (again), my frustration reared its head. I had gained 5 lbs. I was completely out of racing shape. I’d been eating entire meals out of the vending machines at work. Thanks to my fourth sinus infection this year, I was waylaid and unable to stay awake long enough to do anything other than go to work. I reached my breaking point when my libido disappeared. WTF?!

A week later, I got better and I got some perspective. Date #4 and I have been together for only two months. I realized that I could maintain my old schedule and kick him out of my life or I could find a new routine. That period of everything going to hell was just a slash-and-burn method of prepping the soil for a new life. One that involves the man that I love and all the activities I love.

What I ended up having to do was first explain to him what was going on in my head. He understood and didn’t take it personally at all, which was essential for me to feel comfortable moving forward. I explained to him that there are a lot of things I enjoy doing that I haven’t been doing lately, and that I need a routine or schedule in order to make it all fit into my life.

I looked at my schedule, needs and priorities. I looked at his schedule, needs and priorities. He has two dogs, so he can’t stay over too often. I live out of the way of my work and his house, so I have to bring all my stuff for work if I’m staying over. It made more sense to do all that if I were staying two nights in a row. For both of our sanity and respect of personal space, I decided two nights apart would be good for us. Thus, a schedule emerged. I would stay with him Wednesdays and Thursdays, and he would stay with me on Tuesdays and Fridays. Sundays and Mondays we had off, and Saturdays I left to whim (even I don’t try to plan everything).

I make sure to bring my running shoes to his place and try to take the dogs out with me. I also run on the evenings we’re not seeing each other. The beginning of the week can be overwhelming for me, so that’s why I picked those two days to spend apart. It gives me the time to work on my blog, get my clothes ready for the week, and to generally spend time with myself, which I think is important in any relationship.

Once I identified the problem and communicated that to him, I was able to then ask, what now? How can I have both – him and my old life? Planning the nights was a great first step. It allows me to plan what will need to happen and when. The other stuff is simply up to me. Once I finished the relay marathon I had spent months training for in May, I had a hard time staying motivated, so I signed up for a race on July 4 and started looking for more to keep me running.

Maybe this is easy for some people to figure out, but I was really happy being single. My life was happy and whole when I met Date #4, so much in fact that if it weren’t for my sister’s sage advice to not let opportunities pass me by, I probably wouldn’t have made the leap.

I’m glad that I did, but that period of transition can be tough. I think it’s important to be honest with yourself, to communicate your frustration without laying any blame, and to get into the solution. Dwelling in the problem while I was sick yielded nothing but a depressing blog post (sorry!). Once I decided to try a solution, I was already feeling like my old self and it didn’t take long to get back on track.

Oh, and my libido came back. Thank god.

[Photo credit: Evan Romine]

Questioning the Quarter-Life Crisis

Hey, everyone. I know it's been a long time since I've posted. I'm getting over (yet another) sinus infection. I read an article on Brazen Careerist this morning about quarter-life crises and left a comment so lengthy, I figured it might as well be a blog entry.

I'm not sure I believe in "quarter life crises." I do think that (more than perhaps before) our generation is having a hard time with the transition to true adulthood. I know I thought I had arrived at adulthood when I was living with a long-time boyfriend in my own apartment with a great job at 23. I was wearing suits and holding conference calls and grocery shopping for two. I was playing "life," but I wasn't really doing it. I was still thinking and acting immaturely. I was 25 when my "crisis" began, a painful period of realization, deconstruction and transformation. It took a year, but I finally grew up. So, here's the comment I left:

"My own "quarter life crisis" happened right on time - 25. For me, it was spurred on by the realization that I was an alcoholic and needed help. Everything else changed, too, though. I was laid off, my boyfriend and I broke up, I moved out of our townhouse, and my car blew up... within a month.

Now that's extreme, but I've found with my friends also that these crises have a pattern: malaise/a feeling of inertia preceding a life-impacting event followed by a period of transformation. Having gone through that extreme example before most of my friends hit their crisis stage, I've sort of counseled a few of them through it.

Here's what I've found: We've had a prolonged adolescence. Despite paying my way through college and living on my own, I still have an "emergency card" that my mom pays. I used this for about a year when I ran out of money before my next pay period. For some reason, this life-changing event (whether it's getting sober or finally moving out of your parents' house or breaking up with your significant other) sparks a period of transformation. We begin to finally replace the ideas we questioned in college with ideas of our own. We start to make bold decisions on our own. We take proverbial leaps of faith in our lives. In short, we mature.

That's all a quarter-life crisis is - a painful period of maturation. I don't know about you, but nobody told me it would be so difficult. It's been like tearing down a house little by little until all your left with it the frame. Then there's a period of reconstruction. If you are painstaking in this period of your life, it will serve you well down the line.

My own "crisis" lasted about a year. I feel as if I'm just coming out of it. I learned so much, about life and about myself. My advice is not to just try to glean over it. Examine it, spend time on it. Tear down your house, imagine the perfect mature version of yourself and then do the actions. That's the hardest part - the mundane crap, like paying the bills on schedule, schlepping out of bed at 6 am to get to work on time, and skipping happy hour to go for a run. That's real life. That's what we have such a hard time adjusting to.

We're all just growing up. Finally."

When "Relaxation" Becomes Plain Lazy

I’m staring back at my reflection wearily. I’ve just finished washing my face for bed when I realize why I’m so tired of looking at myself in the mirror every night. It smacks me it comes back so suddenly. This is what you looked like before you got a grip, I remember.

There’s a lack of color here. There’s been a lack of color since… since… when did it fade? Somewhere around falling in love and completing my relay marathon only a month ago. I used that week after the race to “reward myself.” I let myself eat poorly and slack off on my training… way off. As in, didn’t do it all.

That week has yawned into a month.

I can feel the little roll at tummy when I slump in my bad posture. It isn’t just that my face has lost color and that I have probably put on two or three pounds. I haven’t been sleeping enough, not what I call a healthful amount. I haven’t been going to enough meetings and I can feel that my spiritual well-being is affected. I’ve been eating entire meals out of the vending machine at work.

This isn’t the dark cloud of grief that rolled overhead back at the beginning of April. This is laziness. Knowing how to pick myself up and not being willing to do the work to bring that about. In my 12-step program, we say that when the pain is enough, we will act.

Luckily my threshold for pain has become amazingly low. Tonight, one glance in the mirror does the trick. I’m tired of being lazy, I assert to my innermost self. This sucks. Let’s quit this shit and get on with the rest of it.

I could go on and on as to why this has happened – work has been slow and uninspiring, a new relationship needs attention, there are things to do besides train for races that are months away. Excuses. Excuses I’ve been willing to make and accept because I am lazy and unmotivated. So here I am. Out of racing shape, pallid faced with an upset stomach and three pounds heavier. I’ve even been reduced to participating in pointless blog commenting, something I usually have enough serenity to not get involved in.

This one is all on me. I’ve written before about accountability partners and the wonders they can work for helping you to stay motivated. That’s fine and well, unless you stop calling them… especially when you want to avoid being, er… accountable.

In the past I could spend an entire blog post on how I’m going to pull my shit together, exactly what I’ll do and in what order to get things back on track, reassure you the reader that I am indeed doing it. And then promptly sit on my ass for two more weeks before I finally follow through. I won’t do that here. I’m not sure when my motivation will come back to me or when exactly I’ll decide that it’s been enough.

I think I just did though.

I Do - For Seven Years

Last week, Adam Gilbert wrote a post on marriage that drew a veritable firestorm of comments. With a whopping 50 percent of marriages ending in divorce these days, one does begin to wonder what purpose the marriage contract serves realistically in today’s society. I thought it would be an interesting subject to discuss with the BF, considering his background in anthropology and his profession in law. He brought up an interesting concept – a seven-year marriage contract.

The man is brilliant, but not that brilliant. This is a concept that has been around for a while. That famous image of Marilyn Monroe standing over the subway grate holding her dress down – that’s from the “Seven Year Itch,” a movie about the phenomenon of married couples growing bored at the seven-year mark. Last September, a German politician suggested that the government actually allow a seven-year civil union contract, which drew international feather-ruffling.

I was immediately intrigued. Think of all the problems this could solve, I thought. For one thing, with 50 percent of all marriages ending in prolonged divorces, it sure would make things a lot less painful for both parties. For those of us entering into the marriage state believing that this will last, however, that probably isn’t the reason you would choose the seven-year contract.

I liked that it would be a reaffirmation of your commitment to one another. Every seven years you would ask yourself, “Is this still the right person for me?” Imagine how incredibly powerful that affirmation would be for the continued growth and life of your marriage.

I would love to see what the statistics would look like on the treatment you receive from your significant other around the six-year mark as well. I would guess that you might see your spouse become more attentive to you, knowing that the contract is up for renegotiation soon. Indeed, it’s one of my fears about marriage that after X number of years, you fall into such a comfort zone that you don’t really try anymore. I’ve watched couples grow inattentive, selfish, even downright mean as the years stretch on in a marriage. Somehow there’s a mindset (not always, but in these cases) that now that you’re married, it doesn’t really matter how polite you are to your significant other. After all, they’re committed. Having a contract would eliminate this, or give the offended party an out if it didn’t.

I like the idea that neither party is obligated to remain in the relationship. I know the outcry from the happily married community will be, “It’s not an obligation when you love the person!” But my fear would be that either party would feel obligated to remain in the marriage. After all, you’ve made a vow in front of your family, friends, deity of your choice to remain married forever. That’s a lot of pressure. Some people can (and do) crack under the idea of ‘forever.’ It’s kind of like how I stay sober – one day at a time. You ask me to stay sober for the rest of my life – I’d be cracking a bottle of wine by noon. I could see myself saying yes to seven years. Then after seven years, re-upping for another go around, and so on and so on.

I see the flipside of that token – neither party is obligated. Some people have argued that if neither party is committed to remaining for better or for worse, then you never feel the security of marriage. You or both of you never really feel secure in the relationship. You live with constant competition from the outside, a feeling that nothing is set in stone, that the seven years you are investing could be all there is. Your spouse could hold it over you – “If you don’t stop/start doing X, Y or Z then I’m not going to renew our contract.”

Perhaps worse than the feeling of obligation would be the possibility of one or the other riding the contract out for the remaining years. Imagine figuring out three or four years into your marriage that it’s not what you wanted. You might think, I’ll just hang on for another three or four years and let it expire. Your spouse might be thinking that without you knowing. If both parties are in this mindset, they might treat each other even worse, knowing that they’re unhappily bound for X more years (not that you couldn’t divorce early, but you might choose not to due to the cost or stigma).

Finally, on the con side, some might enter into the marriage state more lightly with a seven-year stipulation. I could imagine a 22-year-old thinking, Hey, if it doesn’t work out, I’ll only be 29 and I’ll still be able to find someone. Or, it could be a way for gold diggers to catch a free ride for seven years before ditching the poor schmuck. Conversely, it could also be a way for those old horny geezers to protect their assets from said diggers, hedging their bets on whether or not they’ll survive the term.

It’s highly unlikely our government would ever allow such a contract since each state’s government is set up to protect and encourage the marriage state. However, I think you’ll have an interesting conversation with your significant other on the topic. As for me and my significant other, we agreed it would be nice to have some sort of informal agreement at the outset to reevaluate a marriage seven years into it, and either to amicably dissolve or to reaffirm the relationship. For me personally, the merits outweigh the cons. But hey, I’m not there yet.

Forget Relaxation - Take A Bliss Break

It’s been suggested that I’m wound a *little* tight. I’ll be the first to admit that I have problems relaxing. I tend to be sort of a black-or-white, stop-or-go kind of person, at least when it comes to my work and myself. For the past five months or so, I haven’t been able to let go of this tension. I’ve sort of had this feeling that I need it to keep going, that somehow relaxing would cause me to lose my momentum. 

On the other hand, I know that I need to relax every now and then; otherwise I won’t be as productive as I could be. And so it has been with this in mind – increased productivity – that I have set about trying to “relax.” Like any good workaholic, I schedule a break. I cordon off a largish chunk of the day and I say this is where I will relax. 

It never works. For some reason all I can think is something along the lines of “Hurry up and relax so we can get revitalized and work better!” It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that not a lot of relaxing gets done this way. And yet, bull-headed and not really knowing any other way of doing it, I keep trying the same thing expecting different results.

So when Date #4 asked if I would like to steal away to his property in the Hill Country for the weekend, I said yes without a second thought. I wondered if it were possible that I could actually unwind finally. Would I be able to release the tension I’d been holding so tightly to me for the past five months?

I won’t lie: I brought my laptop with me and double-checked with D#4 that there would indeed be Internet access. And bless his heart, he let me bring it, warning me that I wouldn’t want it once I got there.

Indeed, as we drove onto smaller-still roads that turned to gravel, I thought two things: one, is he gonna kill me out here; and two, you’d have to get me this far away from things to quiet my mind. I am pleased to report that the majority of the weekend was spent in sleep (10 hours every night for three nights), in bed (ahem), reading fiction (fiction?!), talking, or hiking and swimming.

The weekend was in a word blissful. (Merriam-Webster defines bliss as "complete happiness.") I had let go of every thought of work, this blog, my company… I wasn’t consciously attempting to relax. I had sort of given up on the idea. I finally let go of the part of myself that felt guilty or anxious for indulging in day-long pajama-wearing or 48 hours without e-mail (gasp!).

I came back to work refreshed and ready to tackle a lot of projects I’d been putting off. I was much more focused than I had been (that might have had something to do with all of the sleep I got), and my mind was swirling with new business ideas. And, of course, this post.

What is the most blissful thing you could do for yourself? Maybe it’s as simple as a pedicure, calling in a sick day to go surf, or spending 48 hours in the country. Try to make it happen this weekend. See how much more productive you are on Monday.

The Subtle Allure of A Life More Ordinary (or the Brainwashing of American Women)

There’s something about magazines like Real Simple and TV shows like House Hunters that depresses me. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but every time I attempt a sit on the couch post-work I am irritated by things like Everybody Loves Raymond. There’s a part of me that is suspicious that these forms of entertainment have been created to make us believe that not only are you content with your life, but you are enthusiastic about it, a subtle (or not-so-subtle, in my opinion) brainwashing of home-improving, toddler-yogaing, exasperated-but-happy-at-the-end-of-the-day, we’re-the-same-kind-of-unique status quo. Welcome to the new yuppiedom.

Maybe I’m just feeling particularly fed up with the new American dream this evening, as I sit in my underwear, toenails unpainted and unmanicured, eating Oreos with orange juice, wondering why I’m throwing 5 months of perfectly good conditioning down the drain. Maybe it’s that I’ve recently fallen in love and have caught myself twice already daydreaming into that magical land I call Not A Chance in Hell.

That place involves a relationship that can survive my apparent two-year statute of limitations with a guy who looks like a J. Crew model, a baby as cute and happy as the one that couple at the café has that will magically disappear when it needs to be fed/changed/burped or cries inexplicably, a house that requires little-to-no maintenance which of course we obtained at a steal, a thriving business that I built and doesn’t require me to be around all the time, and a Holly who does not feel overwhelming pinned-down and caged by it all.

Puh-shaw.

That’s when I turn off the TV. And call Real Simple to remind them, once again, that I unsubscribed two months ago. I fight off the sneaking suspicion that somehow, somewhere my father has bribed a Starbucks barista to spike my lattes with hormones. I have been told repeatedly that one day I will want all of these things. When I get a case of the I-just-want-to-be-upper-middle-class blues, I daydream another life.

In this life I usually am married, or in a long-term committed relationship. Yes, I am happy and content being single, but like many, I would like to have a companion through life. I think a character in Shall We Dance? sums it up best when she says people get married so that in a world of billions, one person says they will be the witness to your life. I agree with this. 

At any rate, 90 percent of me says no to kids. This is mostly a financial decision in my mind. Yes, I know you can be financially well off and have kids also, but the majority of folks are not. Here are a few examples of childless couples who are financially better off than their peers (especially where it comes to retirement). And here’s an entire online community dedicated to couples who have chosen not to have kids for a variety of reasons. I take comfort knowing that I'm not the only one out there like me.

Mostly, though, this daydream life is about being able to do the things I am passionate about without any compromises or guilt feelings, such as diving tirelessly into my own businesses, having a partner who I still find sexually appealing, coming nowhere close to any variety of poop/snot/vomit, and traveling at will and on whim.

I have nightmare versions of both of my daydreams, too. There’s one that revolves around divorce, debt, failed parenthood and suburbia, and there’s one that mostly involves being alone for the rest of my life realizing at 47 that all I really ever wanted was a family. These things occur to me. It also occurs to me that none of these scenarios are realistic, and that in life we end up somewhere in the middle. The glory part is that I actually know that I will be happy whichever dream I pursue or end up with inadvertently (life has a way of surprising us). My happiness resides within me, whatever the exterior.

In the meantime, no more HGTV for me. Or Oreos for that matter.

A Simple Productivity Method That Yields Results

In just six months, I have managed to achieve a lot of things in my life, major changes that probably should have taken years to accomplish. Here are just a few: I started a small business that is likely to support me entirely within the next six months, created a blog that is syndicated to two other sites and hit 3,000 unique visitors within two months of founding, lost 20 lbs, reduced my debt and was nominated employee of the month at my company.

A lot of people ask me how I do it; how do I keep up with it all? After all, a full-time job, a part-time job, a company to run and an advice site to publish take up a lot of time and energy.

I will share with you my simple productivity method. I say that it is simple, because it is. However, it is not easy. There is a vast difference. I guarantee that using this method will change your life if employed daily.

Put one foot in front of the other. Take one step at time.

Perhaps I should elaborate. See, first you take a step. If your goal is to start your own business, that step might be to obtain a tax ID as a sole proprietor. If your goal is to lose weight, you switch out your breakfast burrito with an apple and a smoothie. If your goal is to start a website, you purchase the domain and hosting.

Then, you ask yourself, what’s the next step? Then you take it.

You write a business plan. You start running every other day. You sketch ideas for your website homepage.

Rinse. Repeat.

Everyday, you wake up and you ask yourself, what’s the next step? Then you take it.

What’s the catch? There’s no catch. You just have to really want it. There’s no half-ass way to obtain anything worth having. You just wake up and you start doing. You don’t make excuses; you don’t spend a lot of time wondering what the first step is. Don’t worry if you jump into the middle first – you’ll find your way to the beginning quickly.

This is how I started my business, launched my website, became great at my job, got into racing shape, and began dating again. I haven’t done it perfectly, but luckily no one is grading me. And if I had waited to do it perfectly, it wouldn’t have gotten done.

The most important thing is to make sure that your Why is strong enough. Why do you want to start a business, lose weight or start a website? If your reasons are flimsy, your results will be too. If you want to start a business because your buddy is, that’s not a good reason. But if you want to start a business because you believe you have a great product or service the world needs, then that’s something to hold on to. If you want to lose weight because your boyfriend or girlfriend said you were fat, you’ll probably stay the same. But if you want to lose weight because you’ve decided it’s high time you got healthy, then you’ll probably make it.

The reason your Why needs to be strong is because there will be days when your resolve will fail you, when you wake up and say, f*ck the next step, let’s sleep in. You have to keep going, one foot in front of the other.

Some days you may feel like it’s too much, there’s too much to do, too many steps before you get where you want to be. That’s OK. You just have to take one step. Not two, not tomorrow or in a month, but one step today.

One day, you’ll look up and you’ll be amazed at how far you’ve come. One step at a time.

Me & the Great Online Dating Experiment

There’s this one site I am absolutely glued to, HoneyandLance.com. (Love ya, guys.) Mostly, I’ve been fascinated by the pick-up artist end of things. This experiment was inspired by a post in which Lance mentions that he opens up a girl by asking about crazy online dating stories, which most girls have. Not me, I thought. Not yet.

*Let me preface this by saying that I think we all know we each just want to get a little action at some point. I don’t think it’s fair that because I’m a female with a busy and full schedule without time for a serious relationship, I should be excluded from the nooky end of things. To further complicate matters, I don’t drink, so I can’t do what most of my girlfriends do – go out, drink a little, hook-up with a guy at the end of the night and blame it all on the alcohol.

So, how does a single, dare I say, attractive young woman with little time on her hands go about dating pretty much for the first time in her life because she’s been a serial monogamist since high school? You sign up for an online dating site and tell all your friends that you’re doing it as research for your blog.

Ha.

In all honesty, I’ve really enjoyed it. Some of my girlfriends have tried it, and those who haven’t are thrilled to watch me be the guinea pig and listen to my stories. I tend to approach most things these days with a sense of adventure, and admittedly, doing it as “research” for the site allowed me to stay unemotional about it. I just went for it.

Making the Profile
Here’s what I did. I made my profile. I first searched and found profiles I thought were appealing. I liked the profiles of guys who had travel and action photos, as well as clear mug shots. So I added those kinds of photos to my profile. Then I read a few I liked and shaped my profile after theirs. Specifics really are great, by the way. I got more comments about describing what I like to do after a good run more than any of the general "me" stuff.

Displaying Interest
Then I set my search criteria. I winked at all of the guys who I thought were good-looking and had interesting profiles, a conservative move in the world of online dating. (If you haven't online dated, "winking" is the simplest, most basic level of interest. Using it is often considered a wuss move.) Three of the original four wrote back. The good ones were brief (a couple lines), included something specific about my profile that they liked and asked a question, thus eliciting a response from me. I responded with matching length (imitation is a form of flirting) and similar comments. They usually e-mailed back a much lengthier response and thus deeper e-mail conversation began. After a few e-mails, meeting was suggested, and a few hours before meeting, numbers were exchanged.

The Dates
In total, I have dated four guys from the online dating site. I will not use their names here, but here’s the run-down.

Date #1: Lawyer, over 30, divorced, no kids.

Date #2: Financial advisor, closer to my age, never married, no kids.

Date #3: Pilot, over 30, divorced, no kids.

Date #4: Lawyer, over 30, never married, one kid.

Date #1
The first meet-up with Date #1 went well. We had good conversation, he was decent-looking and intelligent. It's just that I simply didn’t feel it. And although this might add credence to what some guys call impossibly high standards, I just couldn’t handle that he tucked his T-shirts into his jeans and wore a belt too. I don’t think that’s having high standards; I think it’s just a personality thing.

Things tapered off with him, especially after he seemed to be in constant contact – e-mailing, text messaging or calling. I realize that because of my busy schedule it can be difficult to display interest, but he came on too strong for me, especially given my slight case of relationship phobia (I’m a classic Sagittarius – can’t be tied down).

Date #2
Date #2 was a lunch date. Neither one of us had an evening free. Good sign, I thought. He takes his career seriously, too. I was also really excited to meet another young professional in my city (south Texas isn’t exactly Young Professional Central). We got along great and had decent conversation. Still there’s not much you can get from a one-hour lunch date, so I proposed a baseball game (I have phenomenal tickets behind home plate for our local AA ball club). By the end of the night, I pretty much figured this one for a really cool friend. We had lunch again, and it sealed the deal. I think we could both pretty much tell there wasn’t a spark there. I did invite him to a young pros networking event this weekend, and I think he’ll make a great contact and friend since we’re both driven in our careers.

Date #3
Date #3 was a bust. He looked a lot older than I thought he would. The convo was decent. I introduced him to two coworkers/friends who happened to be at the café we met at. The next day the male coworker asked if I had known Date #3 long. Nooo, I said slowly. Why? Ask Female Coworker, he said. Ohhhh. Forget it. He called, but I’m not returning it. Too complicated and I wasn't that interested anyway.

Date #4
By the time Date #4 rolled around, I had already decided to call it quits. This is the last one, I thought. No more freakin’ online dates. We met for Thai food. We ended up going for coffee and talking until 11 pm. He walked me to my car and stopped my door just short of closing, leaned in and said, “I had a really good time. Really.” Hmmm. I drove off smiling a little.

The next morning I decided to kick it up a notch. I sent a highly flirtatious text message: “Morning tiger. Great date last night. Hope you’re having a good Tuesday.” I figure this would indicate that I’m interested beyond a friendship level and hopefully surprise and delight a little. I figured it also showed self-confidence.

A client cancelled on me two days later, leaving me an unexpected hole in my schedule, and Date #4 just happened to ask on the off chance whether I was free for the evening. As a matter of fact…

He picked me up for dinner. I had some fear after Date #1 that all lawyers dress poorly, and our first date together he had arrived in full suit, fresh out of the office. Luckily, not so. He was perfectly dressed down and sporting glasses (H-O-T). More great dinner conversation. He could keep up with me intellectually, which is not common, and he could talk about personal stuff, which was refreshing after GIWS (Guy I Was Seeing).

I suggested a walk on the beach post-dinner (my new pad is a 120-second walk to the beach). More great convo. No smooch. He walked me to my door and I invited him in to check out the new digs I’d been raving about. Finally, make-out action. Good make-out action. Damn near perfect. Not too aggressive (I still have my tonsils, check), not too light (we have tongues, check). I let it slip that I am surprised, pleasantly so. He checks out for the evening and I go to bed thinking I might be in trouble.

Date #4 was unexpected, especially considering he’s the one with an actual deal-breaker (kid). I’m struggling a little to keep things in perspective and not to do the I-can't-have-a-relationship freak-out thing, considering we've had two dates. But that's a whole other can of worms. I’ve definitely made it clear to him that my businesses are my number one priority and that I don’t have a lot of free time. I have also made it relatively clear that I’m not looking for anything serious. Hopefully that's enough for now.

How I Maturely Ended a Relationship… For the First Time

Guy I’ve Been Seeing and I hadn’t seen each other in probably two weeks. With the website taking off at the same time as my IT consultancy, I had become insanely busy. GIBS was almost equally busy with his career. When we were seeing each other, it was pretty much for, er, one thing.

During this particularly long stretch between sightings, I’d got to thinking about our relationship. Hold on a second. I just said relationship. That’s not what’s supposed to happen. GIBS is thus named for a reason. I had such a mortal fear of saying BF, GIBS was the shortest description I could come up with to describe our association to friends and family members. But here it was four or five months into it, and how long could you possibly just be “dating” someone?

With my career taking off in so many different directions, I knew time was going to be limited. I got to thinking about GIBS though. All of this really great stuff pretty much started because of him and that question he asked on our second date. He was always there for me – supporting me, holding me accountable, pushing me through the tough parts when I wanted to give up. He could pump me up when I needed it, and he could celebrate my successes. And he genuinely felt them. I could pretty much tell him anything. I respected his opinion and sought his advice on most things.

Holy crap, I thought. He’s one of my best friends.

I certainly didn’t want to ruin things with my best friend. At the same time, I knew that it wasn’t going to work as a couple. Neither one of us were cut off for coupledom, at least for the time being. We’d talked repeatedly about our relationship fears, our happiness in being single, etc. Every time I ended something with someone though, we never really stayed friends. We might talk, but it eventually tapered off or imploded when I realized they were holding onto the friend card thinking I would change my mind.

I talked it over with one of my mentors (people, if you haven’t already, find an older person you respect, admire and talk openly with on all matters). I decided honesty was the best policy. I sort of had this feeling that he might be feeling the same way I was anyhow.

So our schedules finally synced up and we went for sushi. We talked about the great and busy things in our lives – my new apartment, his new house, my IT consultancy taking off, his big trips coming up.

“Well, it sounds like we’ve both got really full lives right now,” I commented, looking down at the table. I raised my eyes and gave him a knowing look. He met my eyes and I could tell he was thinking the same thing.

“Look, with all this stuff going on, it just seems like maybe we don’t have time for a relationship,” I pushed through.

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking that lately, too,” GIBS agreed, looking relieved.

“Here’s the thing though,” I continued. “You’ve actually become really important to me.” I told him everything I’d realized about he and I as friends. I told him that he’d become one of my best friends and that friendship is a rung higher than a relationship in my book.

“So you don’t want me to just go away?” he asked.

“No!” I reassured. “Look, I need you as a friend.”

We continued talking and walked to our cars. I wondered, and hoped, that we would really stay friends. And we have. I think we’re actually closer than we were when we were dating. We talk on the phone regularly, text our triumphs and ‘how you doing’s to each other often. We hang out, and true friend that he is, he helped me move this past weekend. We’ve had dinner and great, interesting conversations. I feel like I’m more myself around him than ever, because just like any other friend, I figure he’ll figure my faults and flaws. I don’t fear judgment. I can roll over to his place sans make-up and not give a crap since we’re just friends anyways.

And while the FB card is definitely on the table, I’ve filed it away for a rainy day. Today I’m totally cool being good friends.

Note: Hereto forward, GIBS will be known as GIWS (Guy I Was Seeing).

Optimize Your Space for Maximum Productivity – And Happiness

I made a big move this weekend, in the physical sense, as well as less literally. I moved to a new apartment in a new part of town, and it’s as if I’ve officially started a new phase in my life.

I don’t know if it’s my age, or the situation I found myself in, but I never really could find an apartment that I liked and that I could also afford. Plus, I was living with someone, so compromises had to be made (this place was closer to his work, that place was cheap enough for our budget, etc.). When we split, I had to find a place quick. The place I took was too expensive for my budget, so I downgraded severely as I tried to reign in my spending and get back on my feet financially after losing my job, my car, my dual income living situation and getting sober.

It took me a year. Soon after I celebrated my one-year anniversary last month, I signed a one-year lease on a condo on North Padre Island (the beach!). The past two weeks have been downright unbearable as I waited and waited for moving day to come. And tonight, going back to the old apartment I had come to disdain so much to do the final cleaning, time crept so slowly I thought it would stand still. Finally, I drove off, and immediately called a friend to announce I was leaving the old apartment for the last time. Hallelujah!

I guess the point I’m trying to make in a roundabout way is how our surroundings affect us. I took my previous apartment because it was cheap. That was the only reason. I figured for the price I could stand just about anything. Not so. I grew to dislike it so much that I never wanted to be there. Even when I needed to do work or read, I would go somewhere else to do it. I’m not sure exactly what it was – it could’ve been the grey carpet, or the circa-1978 fixtures, or the unrespectable neighbors. It could’ve been merely what it represented to me – a time in my life where frugality was the biggest necessity, an era of character-building hardship.

Even only half-way unpacked, I love spending time in my new home so much, I look forward to returning to it all day, unlike my previous apartment, which I dreaded going home to. For the first time in my life, everything seems like it belongs. The furniture belongs, the paintings belong, and the towels match. I belong. I guess it feels like my space, my own home. It’s a wonderful feeling.

As I move my company into a new area – office optimization – how your space affects you is something that I will be focusing on. Certain colors soothe (blue), while others energize (orange). There is an optimal set-up to achieve maximum productivity in every space. As I move into my new apartment, I’m trying to achieve this with my own space.

It’s about more than just achieving maximum productivity though. It’s about being able to enjoy the space that you’re working in. One of the coolest office set-ups I’ve ever seen is at Pixar, and Microsoft Research has some pretty cool ones too. My offices at work are painted in two shades of green – bright grass green and cool pastel green. It’s energizing and somehow always makes it feel fresh in there.

The best offices, in my opinion, are wireless and paperless. Why not set up Wi-Fi and give everybody laptops? Make spaces that go beyond traditional cubicles and desks. I had the opportunity to redesign a previous company’s space, and that was exactly what I lobbied for. Instead of desks, there were tables and comfortable sofa chairs. Instead of a separate office for every employee, the rooms were separated by function. There was a meeting room, a brainstorming room, a library/”quiet” room, a multimedia room, and a break room. Each one had a different tone to match its function. The brainstorming room was looser, had brighter colors and rearrangable furniture. The library had bean bags and sofas and dimmer lights to suggest quiet; the multimedia room had large glass tables for projects and plenty of direct light.

When your environment is inviting, it will be hard to get people to leave it, kind of like my new apartment and me. When the environment is functional, things will get done. When the environment is optimized, things will get done faster. Faster, productive employees who want to be at the office? Sounds good to me.

Check out real people's cool home offices [hat tip: Lifehacker.com].

Prepare to Stay Ahead

There has been some major backsliding going on in my life the past three or four weeks. Let’s just say some slacking has occurred… it’s like cancer. It started in one area of my life and spread quickly to the others. Part of this can be blamed on tragedy and illness, but that crutch has gotten old. It’s time to throw out the excuses and get things back on track now.

Sleep
I used to be the Queen of Good Rest. I always slept well and for the optimal time. I guarded my sleep schedule like it was Fort Knox. I defended it and nurtured it. It’s as if I’ve spent the past month beating the shit out of it and calling it a Bad Kid. It hates me now and acts like an angry toddler. When I do give myself the time to get a good night’s rest, I have problems either falling asleep or staying asleep. When I wake up, I don’t feel refreshed. I feel more tired. Last night I slept for 9 hours to make up for the 5 ½ hour sleep cycles I’ve been doing. I feel less awake. People even say I look tired. I need to get back on a schedule. I’m sure it has to do with the fact that it’s been erratic.

Diet
I’ve lost three more pounds. Most women would be excited by this. I am not. This has nothing to do with healthy weight loss – I’m not eating right. And I’m running distance. As a distance runner, weight loss is your enemy (after a certain point anyways). I am usually vigilant about my diet – 6 or 7 small, regimented meals per day. I make sure I eat enough protein, iron, dairy and good carbs. Lately, I’ve been skipping meals, not really eating anything healthy, etc. I can feel how awful it is for me. Eating well takes time. You need to get to the grocery regularly for fresh produce and plan your meals ahead if you have a jam-packed day like I do.

Running/exercise
I run four days a week like it’s my religion. Since everything happened last month, I have seriously slacked. It’s Thursday and I haven’t run at all this week. Now, this is serious business. I have a 5K and a relay marathon to run in May. I’m not where I need to be. Aside from that, running is my release. I feel energized and empowered when I’m done with a good run. I particularly enjoy the time I spend outside doing it. It’s relaxing. Skimping on this area of my life does exponential harm to me; it kills my relaxation and my health.

Budget
Ugh. To be fair, I’ve lost 18 pounds since I got sober. The first five came off right away (I was a beer drinker – muy fattening). The rest I lost in the past 5 months or so through the combination of a healthy diet and running. So, I’m down a few sizes in almost everything, especially work clothes. That’s where I’m blowing my money. I’m close to overdrafting my bank account, and that is a place I really hate to be.

General cleanliness
Please step away from the apartment, miss. Really, things are pretty messy on the home front. I’m never in my apartment and since I am moving next weekend, I decided not to worry about doing much until then. Really, all I’ve done is create more work for myself when I start packing. The car is in pretty bad shape too – a cleaning inside and out is definitely in order.

Tardiness
Running around at break-neck speed has caused me to forget just about everything. (Hello? I brought my running clothes, but left my sneakers. Is anyone home?) I am sleeping as late as I can, and thus making it to work perpetually 15 minutes late, which causes me to leave 15 minutes late, throwing my entire schedule into chaos. That does not look good to the boss either. And, let’s face it, tardiness is tacky.

The Solution
The best people in my life always tell me to get out of the problem and into the solution. Having defined the problem, I know how to tackle it. One of my major problems has been budgeting time for preparation. Most of the things above can be eliminated if I will simply slow down and take the time to prepare for them.

I need to prepare my food for the next day. I need to get my bag of running gear together the night before. I have to take the time to sit down with monthly bills twice a month and look at how much I can afford to spend on clothes, etc. I need to spend just 10 little minutes cleaning up when I get home instead of falling onto the couch with the laptop for an hour. And finally, I need to guard my sleep schedule like it was the Most Precious and Dear Thing on the Earth again.

Budget Advice from a Tech Lusting Entry Level Worker

I am an Early Adopter caught in the salary of an entry level worker. It is an unfortunate state of affairs when you – who subscribes to TechCrunch, an avid reader of Robert Scoble and Guy Kawasaki, the only person you know with a feed aggregator, the only one in her town who seems to know that mobile Web is the new black – must idly watch lesser (informed) men purchase and make scanty use of technology.

It is a sad state indeed. However, I’m not one to sit around and feel sorry for herself. As Jay-Z says, I’m like water. Throw up a blockade and I’ll find a way around it. I have a method for determining which things, whether they are little- or big-ticket items, can or should be purchased.

The List(s)
Now, this is not a glamorous thing, to be sure, but I’m a realist. A comforter that costs 200 dollars has to be saved up for, just like an iPhone, on my budget. Thus, it must be determined how badly I want that comforter or duvet or whatever, and what priority it falls into. After all, we’re working with a limited amount of cash here.

Here’s how it works. I keep a list in my planner, the one thing I’m certain to look at repeatedly throughout the day. At the top it says “Things Holly Wants.” Right now, it looks like this:

King-size comforter: $100
iPod set for car: $25
Tea kettle: $20
Running shoes: $85-100
Domain & hosting: $60
Running shorts: $30
Desk: $150-250
SIGG water bottle: $25

These are fairly practical items for the most part. As I purchase them or concede that I don’t really need or want them and that the desire for an espresso grinder was misguided, then I strike them out. Some of them are smaller ticket items, and the reason I put these on here is not so I can save for them (I’m not that bad off), but so that I don’t blow 20-30 dollars here and there on crap I don’t need or won’t use (I’m not that well off).

Now, for major technology-related purchase, I keep a list called “Things Holly Would Really Like.” It looks like this:

MacBook Pro
iPhone (V2 out in June)
Wireless keyboard/mouse
Dual monitors
Adobe Creative Suite
iPod portable speakers/docking station

Note that nothing on that list is crossed out. Yeah. I’ve had that list for about three months now. It’s going to take some time to save up for those items. Also, with purchases of that size and nature, the exact specs change with the more research I do on them. I also have a terrible case of Tech Lust, so it’s good for me to see these things written on paper so that I can be a little more practical about it.

Buyer Be Wary
I recently read on Ben Overmyer’s blog that he was feeling some peer pressure to purchase an iPod Touch, which he pretty much says he doesn’t need and won’t use. Don’t let your friends pressure you into buying something that they need or want. What’s good for one person is a waste of money for another. I consult with clients for my IT business on electronic purchases and often stair-step them up to what they think they want. For example, one client wants an iPod, but doesn’t use iTunes or have music on her computer. First things first, let’s get you where you can use it. I wanted a MacBook Air until I saw what Guy Kawasaki had to do to his. It’s just not meant for people like me.

The key concept here is that you first determine what you need, what you need it for, and how high a priority it is for you first. Then make your purchase. So often we see something and buy it, then try to justify after the fact. That’s shoddy logic and a waste of your hard-earned money.

Your #1 Productivity Killer - Sickness

Meetings, e-mail alerts, busy work… these are the most frequently addressed productivity killers. I have read books and found work-arounds for all of them. What I can’t get around, what kills my productivity more than any form of corporate red tape is getting sick. Ironically, this seems to be the one productivity killer I can’t find a book on. Americans seem bound and determined to a.) not take care of themselves, and then b.) attempt to keep working, thereby dragging out their illness and spreading it around. This exponentially decreases productivity.

Two weeks ago, I got a sinus infection. This is a fairly common occurrence for me, given my allergies. What I should’ve done was take a break, get some decent sleep, watch my diet, hydrate more than usual, and get some good sleep. What I did instead was continue a ridiculously busy schedule and pay no attention to any of the afore-mentioned factors. Each day my sinus infection was compounded by the loss of sleep it brought. With no time in my schedule to make it up, I was blessed with a raging case of laryngitis.

Because I wouldn’t take two or three days to run at a slower-than-usual pace, I lost a good two weeks of productivity. I ran at my bare minimum, calling into work twice because of how sick I was. When I was at work, I was unfocused, tired and probably spreading some major germ action. My appearance was tired, messy and unkempt. My ‘give a crap’ was busted. I lost my voice for two or three days entirely, and only recently got my voice back (I’ve been borrowing Kathleen Turner’s voice for the past 10 days).

I took a few lessons away from this. These are pretty basic, but it’s amazing how glaring they can become when you’re completely wiped out for a few weeks.

Heed the Warning Signs
Given that I attended two funerals for people I cared about very much within one week of the other, I should’ve taken some steps to guard against illness. The mind-body connection is amazingly strong, and stress can and will take you down with the ship. When your life gets stressful, treat yourself better than usual. I’m not talking about an extra glass of wine; I mean you should take it easy on yourself. Get rid of the things in your schedule that aren’t essential and crucial and get some rest.

Watch Your Diet
What you eat is the fuel that you provide your body to keep you going. Treat your body like a Porsche. Are you going to put regular gas in that bad boy? I didn’t think so. You’re going premium all the way. It ought to be the same way with your diet, especially when you’re sick. Think about what’s going to help you get better and make a conscious effort to supplement your diet with the things you’ll need to ward off prolonged illness. Get some protein, eat dark green veggies, and for heaven’s sake, eat some oranges. The worst thing you can do is stop eating. You give your body nothing to use as defense and it will only get worse.

Hit the Hay
Your body is going to need more time to recharge than usual. If you are used to sleeping 6-7 hours every night, you’re going to have to make time to get more in order to get well. I also find naps help me get better faster. When I’m not feeling well, I’ll get home from work and snooze for a good 90 minutes. I find this is long enough to be effective and short enough to not ruin my regular bedtime.

Get a Little Exercise
Don’t go running any 10Ks, but do a little bit of exercise if you are physically able when you feel something coming on or are coming out of being sick. Some exertion will boost your immune system and help you feel well faster. Don’t take up anything new while you're sick; just do whatever you usually do at about half the time or pace. For me, this has taken the form of a light jog because I am already a regular runner. If I can exercise when I feel something coming on, it usually wards it off. When I do get sick, then as soon as I get over the hump I try to do a little something to boost my immune system again.

Cut Yourself Some Slack
Highly motivated people are usually their own worst critics. Beating yourself up mentally when you’re sick is counterproductive (as a matter of fact, it’s usually counterproductive, but that’s another post). Take this time to go easy on yourself. Again, that mind-body connection is strong and it is real. Stressing yourself out is going to make you sicker, longer.

Young, Professional, Alcoholic

I’m an alcoholic. Seriously. I am a 26-year-old, middle-class, young professional… alcoholic.

I’d debated whether or not to publish this, but it’s a big part of who I am and how I got where I am today. I’m lucky. Most people don’t figure it out at my age. Most people take 20 years to ruin their lives. I took just four.

What It Used to Be Like
I was 14 the first time I drank. I didn’t get drunk, not because I didn’t want to, but because I couldn’t. There wasn’t any more Kahlua. A few months later at a friend’s house party, I did not have that problem. I got tanked. And it was glorious. I think. I don’t really remember. I do know I was in an awful lot of trouble when my mom picked me up and I puked out of her car window. The hangover was fierce, and my parents felt like that was punishment enough. That and the whole summer grounded.

I never really drank normally I guess. I always liked getting drunk. What was the point of a drink or two? That just built a nice base to work off of, a starting point really, a warm up. I used to joke that when I drank it was both a sprint and a marathon – get drunk fast and stay drunk longest. I could drink any guy under the table. The truth was most people gave up long before me and I was the one who ended up under the table.

In January 2007, barely 25 years old, I went into the doctor and found out that I had drank so hard the night before that both my kidneys were infected, so much so that my doctor said if I had waited a few more hours she would have me in the ER on IV fluids. This did not set off any bells in my head, nor in my doctor’s since I told her that I consumed 5-to-7 drinks per week. No reason to alarm anyone, after all.

There was nothing strange about my drinking to me, and there was nothing strange about the lying I did to cover it up either. I really didn’t think about it. There were always lots of people around me. I didn’t drink alone or everyday, and I didn’t live under a bridge. I was just a 25 year old, going to bars with my friends. So what if I drank a lot? It’s not a crime. It’s what I like to do. Who doesn’t?

What Happened
‘I’m not going to drink,’ I told myself that morning. ‘I don’t want to leave Pensacola and my dad drinking like they do.’ I couldn’t stop myself though. ‘What’s a beer before I get on the plane?’ I rationalized. Deathly afraid of flying, I have two beers and two pills on the plane. That ought to calm the nerves.

It didn’t. It wasn’t working anymore. I had just started using the pill-and-drink combo to make both work a little better, a little faster, but it wasn’t working at all. I was still scared, scared as all hell. The burly flight attendant asks me if I’m OK. My eyes fill with tears and I order another beer.

By the time I land home I’m in a blackout. I don’t remember much, but I do know that I convinced my ride from the airport to go out to a bar at 4 pm instead of home to my boyfriend whom I hadn’t seen in a week. She never even knew I was drunk. That’s how good (or bad) I’d gotten. People usually couldn’t tell I was drunk, and I’d be in a blackout.

When I get home around 9 pm (for those who are keeping track, I’ve been drinking for 10 hours at this point, not uncommon for vacations), the lights are low and the TV’s off. My boyfriend of four years is sitting on the couch quietly, resolvedly. Jig’s up, I think. He says simply, I’m not doing this anymore. We talk calmly; this was coming, after all. I don’t remember much of it.

I wake up with blinding light streaming through the windows. I have the usual what-did-I-do-last-night greeting from my guilty conscience. It floods back with a wave of nausea. I hit my car on a concrete wall before I drove home. We broke up. I have to move out.

I stare at the ceiling. “My own personal rock bottom,” I say out loud to the ceiling. I know where I’m going.

You see, no one wanted me to be an alcoholic. For the past year, it had been pretty bad. “Do you think I’m an alcoholic?” I would ask my friends, boyfriend, family members. “No, you just need to learn how to have one or two,” they all said. I would try to explain to them that I wasn’t sure I could do that or would want to do that. I tried to tell them it was like a light switch without an off option. Once it was on, it was on. No one understood.

What It’s Like Now
That morning was April 11, 2007. I haven’t had a drink of alcohol or any drugs since. I found a 12-step program and was in a meeting by noon that day. The people I found there were essential to my recovery. I have no doubt that it was they and that program that saved my life, and continue to save it on a daily basis.

It wasn’t easy. There were days I didn’t feel like I could make it. There were days where I wanted to kill myself, where I wanted to lay in bed and never get out, days I thought would never end. There were the memories of terrible actions I thought I’d never live down, and relationships I thought I would never be able to mend. I’ve done both.

I lost my job 10 days into recovery. Two hours later, my car exploded in an irreparable fashion. I had moved out of our townhouse. My boyfriend and I were no longer speaking and I was alone.

Six weeks later I had a new job, a new car, more friends than I could shake a stick at, and a new relationship (uh, not a good idea by the way… but that’s a different story).

I have learned a lifetime’s worth of lessons in the past year or so. I look back at where I was then and I marvel at where I am today. I believe it was grace that allowed me to have that moment of clarity on the morning of April 11, 2007. Nothing was more obvious to me that morning than the fact that I had a problem and needed more help than I knew how to get.

Today, I have a job that pays slightly more than the one I had then. I work at a café part-time for the pleasure of it and to learn the trade I hope to one day make a dream-come-true – owning my own café. I have started two small companies, one of which earns me a decent profit. I am well on my way to owning my own home later this year. I have begun to repair my credit and repay my debt. I love being single and have had the opportunity to date a (small) handful of amazing men. I have the best friends in the whole world, and I am told that I am a much better friend today. I would never have dared to dream this big in my drinking days. I would never have cared if I were an honest-to-god good friend. I do today.

I am a better person for being an alcoholic. My mom once told me that having my sister at age 17 saved her life. I couldn’t really understand what she meant until I admitted to my alcoholism in a room full of people. I wonder if I would be the person I am or would have accomplished the things I have if it weren’t for that life-altering admission. I think we both know the answer to that one.

Good Work Life = Good Sex Life

Recently my career life has taken off in unexpected ways. I got a raise at work. My IT consultancy has a steady, dedicated customer, and plans for increasing the client base are going well. My blog site, WorkLoveLife.com, has skyrocketed within the past two weeks, with traffic increasing exponentially.

I was riding a huge wave, and suddenly I exuded confidence in a way I never have. My newfound success gave me a sense of poise that spilled over into other areas of my life. Why not upgrade to a nicer apartment on the beach when my lease is up in a month? I’ve earned it. Why not gun forward on that project at work? I know it will work.

Here’s a not-so-secretive secret about confidence. Not only does it dramatically increase your odds of getting what you want, but it does wonders for your sex life. Self-confidence is sexy. Someone who knows what she or he wants and goes after it is, well, hot. There are no two ways about it.

I read a blog recently about why you actually want to date a player (hat tip: HoneyAndLance). A lot of it has to do with self-confidence. I have to admit by the end of the post I realized that the guy I’ve been seeing is sort of a player. And I like it. I love that he’s confident, self-assured and comfortable in social situations.

I didn’t make the correlation between career and sexual confidence until recently. Given the number of deaths and illnesses in my life recently, let’s just say I haven’t exactly been feeling it. Something snapped on Saturday though. After looking at a fabulous 1-bedroom condo on the beach and deciding to take it, I was riding high. I went shopping and after realizing that all the running had paid off in the loss of both a jean size and a shirt size, I asked myself why I shouldn’t go all out on the weekly Saturday night dance-a-thon. Some cherry-red lipgloss and a new pair of jeans later, I knew I was looking good. More than that, I was feeling good. I was rocking it.

One problem. The guy I was seeing said earlier that day he wasn’t game for going out. Exuding a confidence he was unaccustomed to seeing in me, I messaged him: “You should reconsider. I’m looking pretty damn good tonight.” Some more flirty text messaging ensued (totally out-of-character for me), and before long I had him: “We’re on our way.”

Don’t feel too bad for him. He knew what I was up to from text message #1. That didn’t matter – what got him was the surprising new attitude I wore. It was clear that I knew what I wanted that night and that I went after it. It was a turn on, not just for him, but for me too. I wasn’t nervous, anxious, distracted, or busy trying to decipher whether or not he was thinking the same thing I was. I had my eyes on the prize.

The interesting thing is that I always thought that this wasn’t part of my make-up. That in order to be one of those sexy, confident women, I would have to act, play a part. The truth is nothing has come more naturally.

A warning here. It goes without saying that over-confidence is decidedly unsexy. Take it too far and you’ll come off arrogant, stuck-up, better-than or all of the above. Not hot.

Productivity Tip: Read All Your Books With Your Ears

I am an audiobibliophile, a lover of audio books. It didn’t always used to be this way. I used to be your average, run-of-the-mill book junkie. Then I ran out of time to read. So I did what any good junkie does – I adapted.

It started just a few months ago. While reading “Rich Woman,” I was turned on to the Rich Dad Poor Dad series. I enjoyed “Rich Woman” so much that I wanted to pick up something else. The problem was that with my job, my burgeoning entrepreneurial efforts and my newfound love of running eating up more and more of my time, I was losing time for reading.

I was also finding it difficult to concentrate and focus. If I tried reading at home, I would fall asleep (lame!). I couldn’t read on the treadmill (too much bounce). Finally, my vestige the coffee shop would eventually fail me, too, as I would find myself more interested in journaling, sketching business plans or working on the blog. My love, my passion was falling to the wayside.

Aside from reading for the sheer pleasure of it, I am a known neophile. I love new things – new activities, new places, new foods, and most importantly, new ideas. I’ve had a profound love of learning since I was little. I probably scared my parents half-dead when I announced at 16 that I planned to be a professional student. That didn’t happen per se, but I like to think of myself as a student of life, always willing to learn what life has to dish out.

All this stops if I can’t read. I must consume new ideas. It’s like oxygen. So, time-starved and apparently suffocating sometime in January, the audio book entered my life in a big way. I started small with “Retire Young, Retire Rich” by Robert Kiyosaki (another Rich Dad Poor Dad book). It was only three hours, but I figured, geez, how long do I really spend in the car? Apparently a lot of time. I finished that bad boy in three or four days. So I listened to it again to make sure I had absorbed it all.

From there, it spiraled. I have a friend who introduced me to audio books who listens to them too, so we swap them back and forth. Sometimes I just listen to the CDs, but sometimes I rip them into my library and put them on my iPod. Now I can read and jog at the same time. No problem.

This is an important productivity tool for me. I simply do not have the time I used to have to read, but I do have plenty of gaps in my schedule where I am not necessarily doing something that requires sustained intellectual effort, like driving or jogging. We cannot simply let the things we love drop off because we don’t have time for them anymore. We adapt, we change, and we learn to get both when seemingly given a choice between two options.

Tips for productively using audio books:
· Get non-fiction. This seems like a no-brainer to me. Unless you have absolutely no time for fiction and need it, then I suggest going on a strict non-fiction audio diet. Get your learn on.

· Get something you’re interested in, otherwise you’ll get bored. Instead of being invigorated by your audio experience, you’ll be snoozing. I’m a fan of quasi-inspirational material, like “Good to Great.”

· Take recommendations. If you have friends who have similar passions, pursuits, goals and/or tastes, hit them up for some suggestions. Remember, they don’t have to be recommendations for audio books.

· Borrow and buy used. Audio books are expense. I can sink $75 in one trip to Barnes & Noble on just two audio books. I like to swap with friends, buy used or at discount.

· Load it into your portable audio device. Putting it on my iPod allows me to pick up wherever I left off, whether in the car, on the treadmill or at the beach. You can actually download mp3s of books directly now.

· Convert your reading list. I have a lengthy book list. This might seem simple, but a lot of people forget. Just convert your “book list” to an “audio book list” and begin there. You’ll have that bad boy whipped in no time.

· Listen to it twice. I don’t always absorb it all the first time. Whenever our mind wanders when we are reading, our eyes will naturally go back and scan the sentence over again. That’s why sometimes we find that we’ve been reading one paragraph for 30 minutes. Our ears don’t do that.

Keep your ears peeled. You just might learn something.

Are Schedules Made for Breaking?

I recently got a question from a reader and responded to it. It clarifies some of my thoughts related to relationships, ambition and organization, so I thought I would share it here.

Question:
"Just curious, are you secretly one day hoping for some man of your dreams character to come along and throw you off your schedule and change your life? Or do you ever feel like maybe you're organizing your life too much? I'm not saying you are, but a lot of the blog is organizing your life, and though you're not there now, it seems like you might progressively become a schedule book. Sometimes I want to become a schedule book, but just so I can break out of it."

Answer:
"Hmm... No, I don't secretly want a man to throw me off my path. As a matter of fact, the past few months I've become rather relationship phobic. I would say that I'm afraid someone will throw me off, but I'm not afraid of it because I know I wouldn't let it happen.

I schedule my time, but I schedule it so that I can fit in all the things that I love doing. When I was doing it without a schedule, I felt crazed and time-starved constantly. The fun things were falling to the wayside because I was running around distracted.

I leave big gaps in my schedule. Sunday, for example, has just a few items: run, write blogs, post blog. None of them have set times, it's more a loose to-do list. I fully intend to spend most of that day on the beach with my iPod, some Jack Johnson and a book (which will probably be used more as a pillow than for reading). And I shall eat strawberries and wonder what the poor people are doing (i.e. people in snow, not near water, etc.).

I understand what you mean though. I used to come up with schedules in college just so I could rebel against them - it made me feel spontaneous to be at Wal-Mart buying hula hoops at 1 am when I should have been writing my Vonnegut paper.

That you would consider someone to be rescuing you from your scheduled self makes me think that you don't enjoy schedules in the first place. Some people work well with highly-organized agendas, like me. I'm a terribly disorganized person in reality (you should see my apartment), so people marvel when they see my color-coded planner with my entire week neatly arranged. 

Why? Because I couldn't freakin' remember to do ANY of it if I didn't do this. If I were naturally organized and prompt, I wouldn't need multiple alarm clocks, a color-coded organization system, and e-mail reminders. If I were a naturally focused person, I wouldn't need productivity methods. I am simply a person who knows 1. her weaknesses, and 2. what she needs to do to accomplish her goals.

Do I want someone to rescue me? No. Do I want someone to share my beach blanket and smile back when I wonder what the poor people are doing? Sure. Do I want someone to sympathize with me when I get done with an 18-hour day? Absolutely. But I want someone who respects me enough to know that what I do is important to me and who supports me in it, who believes that I can do it - not someone who wants to 'take me away from it all.' 

I enjoy my life, so immensely. It's full, it's productive; readers (some friends, but mostly strangers) e-mail me and say what I'm writing is making a difference. That's why I do this. This is worth it to me. I wouldn't have it any other way."

One Life, Two Jobs

I recently acquired a second job in addition to my regular 8-5 corporate job. It was meant to accomplish two things: 1. Give me practical experience in the field in which I aim to start a business one day, and 2. Give me a little extra income to put toward savings for a house and investments.

I thought long and hard before deciding to take on a second job. Would I be able to handle the hours out of my social life and other entrepreneurial ventures? What toll would it take on my primary job/career? Were my reasons solid enough to keep me interested and motivated when I got tired and missed the beach?

It’s important to understand that my second job was not driven by the second reason – additional income. In "Rich Woman," Kim Kiyosaki talks about finding your Why, the thing that is going to keep you going when you want to give up, when you want to be a ‘normal’ person instead of spending all of your free time like some kind of freak who has two jobs and two companies to run. Ahem…

My Why in this case is establishing my own coffee bar. I never imagined I could ever do anything so bold as owning my own café, but one fateful encounter brought me to the realization that given the right Why, I am capable of almost anything. And while I feel that my Why is a very strong one, I found myself burnt out and near tears at the end of my second weekend of my new job, screaming in my head that today will be the last day I work here.

Luckily for me, one of the other cafés I had applied to at the same time as Job A called me for an interview. I rushed from the end of my shift to the interview. This new place was heaven. It was exactly what I had wanted in the other job but wasn’t getting. The owner sat in on the interview and got excited as I answered the “What is your defining characteristic or passion?” question promptly and firmly: “Entrepreneurship.”

This was the ideal situation. The owners were starting this shop from scratch after they dreamed about it for a year or two. They were excited to take me under their wings and show me what they did and were doing. The shop also hadn’t opened yet, so I got to see everything from the ground up. I have been trained on all elements of the business, whereas the other job had me working only in one area, and it had nothing to do with coffee. Bonus: They were completely understanding and sensitive to me having a full-time job and the need to have a weekend day off (I could only work 7-hour shifts every weekend day at the other café).

Establish your Why
It is crucial that you have a rock-solid Why before you go into a second job. Ask yourself what you want to accomplish with your new job. Are you trying to gain experience to add to your resume or for a future endeavor? Are you working for additional income? If so, establish a really great Why for how you intend to use the money you make from it. Your free time is worth a lot, and most part-time jobs aren’t going to pay a lot. There has to be a bigger pay-off besides money. If you are saving for a new home or for an investment, then establish this as your Why.

Use your Why when the going gets tough
Even with the new, totally amazing job that I love, love, love, I still get tired. When it’s Saturday midnight and I’m finishing my shift for the second night in a row, I think about my girlfriends and how they are probably out dancing after a day at the beach. As I start down that slippery slope I close my eyes and conjure up images of my own future café. I picture my employees, my couches, me chatting up the regulars. I throw in the added bonus of imagining leaving my café and going home to that house I’m saving up for from the additional income. Once I’m home and in bed, I know I wouldn’t be happy doing it any other way.

Define what you want from your second job
What days and hours do you want to work? Exactly what functions would you like to be serving and what role would you like to be in? Define the ideal situation before you go into it so that you can gauge whether or not the position is going to benefit you. The problem I had with Job A wasn’t that my Why wasn’t strong enough; the problem was that the hours didn’t work for me and I wasn’t learning anything beneficial for my end goal. When I saw Job B, I knew right away it was what I wanted. I didn’t need the first one; I would’ve quit it whether or not the other place I offered me a position.

Don’t over-commit yourself
If I were being realistic when I accepted Job A, I would’ve realized that working Saturdays and Sundays 8-4 on top of my Monday-Friday 8-5 wasn’t going to work out well. By the end of the second week I was exhausted and a crazed mess. All I did for those two weeks was come home from whichever job and try to get up the energy to do laundry, dishes, etc. I wasn’t eating properly, I was skipping workouts, and I was skimping on my personal life big time. I was so unhappy, and everyone could see it. Job B allows me to work shifts on weekday evenings and will schedule me for only one weekend day because they agreed with me when I said if I didn’t have one day off I would “go nuts.”

Don’t waste your precious time, but don’t give up
If you simply are not getting what you want out of your second job, leave it. Your free time is too precious to waste. Just be honest with yourself – don’t leave a second job if it’s benefiting you just because you want to hit the bar more often. Most people go through life sleeping; the ones who are awake live in a constant state of amazement. Don't be content with the status quo - that's sleeping. You’ll know deep down whether or not it’s worth it. I knew Job A was without a doubt a major waste of my spare time. I had such a strong feeling about Job B, however, that it almost felt kismet that it appeared when it did. I think you’ll know, but if you aren't sure, give it a shot and quit if it’s not what you wanted.

If money is your Why…
If your Why is the additional income a second job will generate, I have a few suggestions for making it work. Put all of it toward your goal. It can be tempting to splurge on all those little things you’ve been denied based on your regular salary. Don’t give in. A few weeks into it you’ll lose your drive because you can’t see it adding up.

Set up a separate account for this new income. If possible set up a direct deposit for that paycheck into a savings account instead of your checking account. I use ING for my savings instead of my regular bank because it has a higher interest rate and it’s not as convenient to withdrawal from (I am often tempted when I get low on cash to dip into my savings, so ING’s 2-3 day withdrawal time is key for me).

Finally, put some kind of visual reminder of where that money is going somewhere where you’ll see it everyday. This will not only keeping you motivated, but it will keep you from spending it on a new set of plates you don’t need from Pier 1.

Work: My Security Blanket

Like Linus, the Peanuts character whose blue blankie is ever-present, so I am with my tan-and-black workbag. It contains whatever two or three books I’m reading (currently Eat Pray Love, Rich Dad Poor Dad, and E-Myth), my planner, two journals (one personal and one career-related), pens, pencils, highlighters, and all the lovely little things that go in a normal purse.

I lug it around with me everywhere. I get razzed endlessly by my friends, family, or whoever else is around to be embarrassed by what is clearly too large and inappropriate for the movies, a restaurant, or shopping. “What do you need all that for?” is a frequently-asked question.

What do I need it all for? Well, just in case. In case of what? In case I have a free moment. In case I end up somewhere alone. Just in case.

So, here I am in my hometown of Pensacola for my grandfather’s funeral, lugging around my bag of work gear endlessly, not getting anything done. I have nothing to do. My work stuff is all at the office. Staying with relatives means no Internet (slinking away from relations for a daily dose of coffee and Internet seems addict-like), so I can’t work on the blog. Endless chaos and noise and relatives you’ve not seen for years do not make for an environment conducive to reading or journaling. So, my bag is useless.

Which means I CAN’T WORK. For some reason, this has me geeking out more than anything. I have no routine. All of my pet projects, all of my entrepreneurial endeavors, everything that has defined my waking (and sometimes sleeping) life is unavailable to me. A big gaping hole of non-productivity – that’s what I feel like. It’s like an itch that can’t be scratched. I guess the real problem is that I want to be back in my life.

In reality, I simply don’t want to be here – not here in Pensacola or at my grandfather’s funeral. I don’t want to be going through this.

I don’t think that it’s uncommon to use work as a security blanket. Often times, we simply don’t want to deal with the big emotional things looming larger than life – surely updating the margin widths of my website is of the utmost importance. Hmm…

I won’t go on a lengthy diatribe about how detrimental a workaholic attitude (the use of work as a way to not deal with emotional pain) can be. We know that it ruins marriages, families, relationships, and friendships, and can lead to even bigger isms (alcoholism, obsessive compulsive disorder, depression). It also doesn’t get you anywhere.

Someone once told me that painful things will happen in life and you’ll have an overwhelming urge to do something, anything about it. You will be frantic trying to find a way to fix it, to plug the hole through which emotion is flowing, like the Dutch boy with his finger in a dam. Unfortunately, we come across situations that we can’t do anything about. There is simply nothing to be done about losing two people you care very much about in less than two weeks. There is nothing to be done about 12-hour drives, crazy families and heartache. The only thing you can do is feel the pain. All you can do is simply stand.

I don’t really know how I made it through actually. I can tell you that I feel somehow stronger knowing that I came through all of it without any crutches. I know I can survive almost anything. Asking for a raise no longer seems like the earth-shattering event it was three weeks ago. The thought of not seeing that guy anymore is no longer life-altering. Everything seems somehow smaller, paltry. I know I weather any unexpected storm. I know I can stand.

Stand undeterred.

From Derailed to Steaming Ahead

Through a combination of events, some of them brought on by my own self and some of them acts of god, my life has completely and totally derailed in the past week. I mean, we're talking wrapped-around-a-garbage-can, laying-on-the-floor, we-might-need-to-go-the-emergency-room derailed. Part of this was shock from the loss of my friend, but part of it was also that I was simply pushing myself way too hard.

The Problem
My philosophy in life is to get out of the problem and into the solution. With the funeral behind me this morning and a still-full schedule ahead of me, I made an internal decision to get with the program today. After all, the apartment is unbelievably gross right now, laundry is unwashed, food spoiling in the fridge... it's all I could do to wake up and zombie-walk myself to where I'm supposed to be at any given hour this past week. But into the solution, right?

If you've got a full schedule and you're derailed, how do you get back on track? It can be difficult when you run a tight schedule to catch up on the things you missed and keep up the pace you're used to operating at. After all, you've pretty much just been bombed. Now that the shock has worn off, you have time to survey the debris.

The Solution
So, that's where I start. The apartment needs to be cleaned, the laundry done, the dishes put away and the fridge cleaned out and restocked (oh yeah, we've forgotten to eat haven't we?). The car needs the oil changed and the tires rotated. I need two new pairs of jeans and new running shoes. Oh crap, I forgot to pay the electric. Clearly, this is going to take a few hours. I don't have a few hours. I don't have a half-hour, for crying out loud. 

I wish I could say I had a magical solution, some brilliant piece of wisdom you'd never in a million years think of. But I don't. And that's unfortunate for both of us. Because my answer is to take half of Friday, the day I was supposed to be in Austin for South by Southwest with my best friend from NYC who I haven't seen in a year, and get all this crap done. It sucks, but that's all there is to it. 

'Be Excellent to Each Another'
Oh, the wisdom of Bill and Ted... The fact of the matter is I can't get back on track after something like this without taking the time to be good to myself. I've been treating my body like crap this week. I haven't eaten right; I haven't jogged, done yoga or slept. I am in debt. I cannot simply go back to cash; I have to pay off my deficit first or my body's interest will compound. And bad health debt has a high rate - 20% at least. It doesn't take long for it to get out of control.

Buddhists say the definition of suffering is the desire to be anywhere other than where you are. I wish this hadn't happened, I wish my little life hadn't been bombed, but it has. Now it's time to pick up the pieces, rebuild and move forward. Hopefully, life will balance out again soon. It's just going to take some patience with myself and a little time to be good to myself again.

Survey. Respond. Rebuild.

Something Profound

Well, dear readers, if I am out-of-pocket the next few days I hope my excuse is valid. I lost a very dear friend this weekend. I am still sorting through the emotions, and the shock has only just worn off in the past few hours. Every hour brings a new emotion, a renewed sense of sadness and loss, and a glimpse of the profundity of this event. I know that something is happening in my soul right now that will impact me forever. I don't know what it is yet, but that's part of the ante when you agree to let life guide you.

My thoughts are with my friend's family, and I pray that they feel a sense of peace and serenity despite their loss. Maureen was a beautiful woman and I am more grateful than I can say that she was my friend and that I was hers. A great fire has gone out. 

On Traveling Well

I am an ambitious person. At certain points in my life, even certain points in my day, I would say it is my defining characteristic. Ambition is a delicate dance, at least for me. I have a lot of things I want to accomplish and I tend to charge at them full-speed, burning the candle at both ends. This is how I love to live.

This is my life:

• Monday through Friday I work at my main job as a market research analyst from 8-5pm. 
  
• Saturday and Sunday I work a part-time job as a baker from 8-3pm.
• I jog for half-an-hour four times a week.
• I try to post three or four times a week on this blog on weeknights when I get home from my jog.
  
• On Wednesday I meet with my entrepreneurship group from 5:30-7pm.
  
• I’m about to begin IT freelance work one or two nights a week.
  
• I actually attempt to date and have a social life somewhere in this.

So, now you might imagine a frazzled, gnarly-looking woman running around trying to get all this stuff done. OK, yes, sometimes I am her. But most of the time I’m not. Time management is not my problem. Being present in my life is my problem.

Being so goal-driven and ambitious can turn even the most balanced person into someone who lives in and for the future. This is exactly the kind of person I don’t want to be. It might sound trite but living in the moment really is about taking the time to notice the little things around you.

For example, I make a point to jog in what must be the most gorgeous and inspiring scenic area in my town. Every time I hit a certain hill and look over the cliffs down to the ocean, I smile and realize how great it is to be exactly where I am right then - that the weather is nice, that the ocean smells salty, that I have the ability to run, that I have the life I always wanted but never went after. That’s being present.

I am not always present in my life. Sometimes I hit that same hill and I’m calculating how much more that raise got me per month and whether it would be better to put it toward my car payment, credit card payment or into savings. I try to calculate the percentages. I think about what I have to do when I get home. I am not being at that moment; I am a “being-for-the-future.”

At the end of the days when I don’t live in the moment, I realize that no one point in the day sticks out to me. I know somehow that I won’t remember this day in a few years, or even a few weeks or days. It was just another day in a series of days in this period of my life. I don’t like that feeling. I don’t want to waste my days.

It may seem morose, but I try to keep myself in touch with my mortality. I try to be the best version of myself in my everyday interactions with others, toward myself, in my personal and professional relationships. I fall short most days. Most days I don’t want to remember that today is all I have.

Make plans for the future. Work your ass off to get to your goals, but enjoy the process. Be present in your life. Blow off studying for a great conversation with a friend. That conversation may be the one that gets you where you need to be. I believe that the little things in life are what create the biggest changes, like the butterfly flapping its wings causes a tidal wave halfway around the world.

Buddha said, “It is better to travel well than it is to arrive.” I don’t want to get to where I plan to be in 10 years and say, “OK, now my life can begin.” All you have is today. Decide what kind of person you want to be in the world and be that person just for today. 

Who do you want to be today?

How Baby Steps Became a Huge Deal

If you had told me three months ago what I would be doing tomorrow, I wouldn’t have believed you.

A few months ago, my life took an unexpected turn. I was on a second date, which happened also to be my 26th birthday, and he asked me where I saw myself in 10 years. I had no answer. Stumped and on the spot, I had to admit that I wasn’t really sure.

Ouch. For one thing, I knew that wasn’t a good thing for a date. More importantly, I couldn’t believe I didn’t have any idea where I wanted to be in 10 years. I mean, this is standard stuff, stuff I would’ve had figured out if you had asked me a year ago. But since my life was turned upside down last April, I had been focusing so much on my day-to-day being that I hadn’t been thinking about my future.

I thought about it a lot the following couple of days. I asked myself a lot of questions as I spaced out at work staring at my computer screen. I asked myself what I would do if I had no boundaries, no limits, if money wasn’t a factor. 

The answer was instantaneous. I would open a coffee bar. I had dreamed secretly of owning a coffee bar since I was in high school, but I had never considered it a possibility. Owning a business was something other people did, not me. I couldn’t; I wouldn’t know how, I always figured.

But then I thought, why not me? Why couldn’t I do the thing I had always dreamed of doing, but dared not pursue?

That one date, that one question set me on the path I am on today. I bought a copy of Ladies Who Launch and began to define my dream. I learned how to dream even bigger, to flesh out my plans, to become comfortable with speaking about my dream. I even named it and registered the domain for a future website.

Then I was poking through the bookstore again when someone recommended The E-Myth Revisited to me. I started reading it and realized how little I knew about my intended business despite having worked at two cafes. So, I applied for weekend positions at Starbucks and a couple of the local independents.

Tomorrow is my first day at one of those cafes. Tomorrow will be the most concrete step I’ve taken since I started allowing myself to believe that I can do this. Sometimes I pick my head up from my unbelievably busy life and take a look around. I can’t believe how much I’ve been able to accomplish in the past couple of months.

Oh, and I still got the third date.

Dream big. Baby step.

Can social networking exist in a vacuum?

I read a lot of blogs lately talking about how social networking is single-handedly lowering the real-life social skills of an entire generation, that it hampers effective social change, that it kills productivity. At the same time, I read articles about the miracle of social networking, how it’s keeping people connected and helping form new connections in both our personal and business lives by bringing niches together without geographic constraints. What is undeniable is that connecting is important, that the bonds we form personally can be used to further our business goals, and that the people we meet in the workplace or through business networking can become part of our personal lives.

With all of the hype surrounding social networking, the articles on weak ties, etc. I wonder what good social networking actually is if you don’t have the opportunity to meet any of the people you are connecting with. For example, CoolPeopleCare blogger Sam Davidson recently visited Madison to meet with Modite blogger Rebecca Thorman. Employee Evolution bloggers Ryan Paugh and Ryan Healy moved from New Jersey to Wisconsin to co-found a company with BrazenCareerist author and blogger Penelope Trunk. What is it about the personal contact of meeting someone in person? There is something undeniable about that face-to-face connection solidifying what you’ve built up via social networks.

Perhaps there is a bit of jealousy that runs through me that these groups of bloggers have the opportunity to work in such close proximity to one another, or at least fly to each other. Groups breed creativity and allow ideas to grow. I’ve also blogged about accountability partners and how being around one or a group of like-minded individuals who are striving toward goals as well can keep you moving forward, increasing productivity and helping you meet your goals faster.

I live in mid-sized town in south Texas. For those of you in big cities, mid-sized means about 300,000 people. That’s pretty small. Not being from Texas and not having a lot of the same political, religious or social ideals as most people in my area compounds the problem. It’s near impossible to search out people who have similar goals (OK, any goals) whom I can connect with. Granted, social networking has allowed me to reach out to other people like myself, including those I mentioned above, and to keep up with the ones I meet who move away.

At some point, though, I do see myself meeting with the ones I form stronger-than-weak ties with via social networking, which is what brings to me back to the original question. Can social networking effectively exist in a vacuum? Or, is it necessary at some point in the relationship to make face-to-face contact?

How I change my habits

Thanks to a recent article circulating some of my favorite blogs, I found this article on quitting caffeine through LifeHacker.com.

I am drinking tea right now. At 9 a.m. Those of you who know me at all know this is something of a feat in itself. I guess we'll see who the real friends are around Saturday, when the caffeine withdraws get ugly.

Honestly, though, this is exactly what happened when I decided I wanted to start eating healthier. One day I woke up and I simply didn't feel like putting crap in my body anymore. This morning I woke up and I was tired and I wanted to feel energized, not caffeinated. When I walked into the office kitchen I glanced at the coffee pot, and without a second thought, I headed to the hot water instead.

This is how it's worked for me lately when I decide I want something in my life to change. I start to think about it as an option. Then, I try to force myself to do it and fail a few times. I typically take on a "screw it" attitude and gorge myself on something I'm trying to quit or totally ignore something I want to do. It doesn't take long before I come full-circle with conviction to just do whatever it is without really thinking about it. This is how it's been when I quit drinking, started eating healthier, took up running, and decided to launch a business.

Think it, try it, fail, screw it, succeed.