Life Update and Advice

I really hate that I’m writing the obligatory “I’m Not Dead!” post – but I’m going to.

I haven’t updated for a long time.  But as they say, Who is worse shod than a shoe makers wife?  Not that I am shoemaker with a wife.  Or a shoe maker or wife, period – but you know what I mean.  I’ve been spending so much time working with computers – writing a well-thought out blog post is pretty much the last thing I want to do.

But here we are.

I graduated college in December, and shortly after began working as an online advertising coordinator for a publishing company.  How I happened upon such a sweet gig, I couldn’t tell you -  maybe dumb luck or the always-deadly combination of optimistim and persistence, but either way I feel very lucky.  Lucky not only that I got a job right out of college, but also a job in my field, and most importantly – a job that I love.

Yes, I realize it’s entirely possible that one of my bosses or co-workers could find this post (hi!) but I swear i’m not just saying that I like my job because of that possibility.  I really do.  Seriously – I look forward to going to work.  I feel good about promoting a product that’s doing the world some good, utilize skills I learned in school, and  I Love my coworkers (ok, that last one really was just in case they read this).

All work and no play make Mindy a dull girl – and make her blog posts pretty dull as well.  Since graduating college I’ve had less free time, but now I spend my free time doing things I really like.   I think because in college I didn’t appreciate free-time as much as I do now that I work 9 – 7ish, Monday through Friday.  So Saturdays and Sundays are to be enjoyed to the max.  In the last few months, my friend Sean and I have been doing alot of exploring and adventuring around Connecticut.  Vineyards, Hiking, Kayaking – so on.  Mostly in support of his latest and greatest blog, The Connecticut Weekender.

It’s interesting – now that I’m insanely busy, I fill every minute of my limited free time with awesome things to do.  I’m enjoying life more now.  Make sense?

I’ve been more consistent about updating my tumblr blog.   I treat it more like a combination between my shared items on google reader & twitter updates.  Not as well thought out (not that this post is particularly well thought out), and more sporadic.

I think I’ll end this post with a few life recommendations, based on anecdotal evidence.

- Singing in your car during the morning commute is generally embarassing; however, singing along during the evening commute is great and will put you in a great mood.

- Listening to music as you work will make you happier.   Use Pandora to listen to music you like, and find new music without even trying.  Here’s a link to mine if you’re into it.

- Twitter, much like any social networking tool, becomes cooler the more time to put in to it.

That’s it.  I’ll try update more often, but I make no promises.

I know, I was there.

In 2008 I began to really appreciate the fact that I have friends who actually like seeing me for extended periods of time, literally seven days a week.

I’m talking about the kind of friends who you see so much they can’t tell you anything about their lives because you’re always there when it happens.

Friends who after 12 hours of classes and meetings ask you if you want to go out for dinner.

Friends who after working 9-5:30 Monday through Friday ask you to hang out on Friday night.

What makes it extra-great is when you still want to hang out with them too.  And you say, “I missed you” when you didn’t see them  for more than 24 hours – and you mean it.

It’s the best.  I feel really lucky to have such amazing friends.   Double extra lucky that most of these people are / were co-workers and friends from school who I worked with over the years.

Today was another reiteration of these relationships existing.  They’re great.  You should get at least one.

I hope in my post-college-graduate life I have relationships like these.

Everyone has a Paul Newman story.

When I was younger I worked in an ice cream store.  This particular ice cream store, located somewhere in Fairfield County, Connecticut, stayed open through the winter, and it was during a winter day in 2004 when the following story took place: 

I was honestly almost falling asleep.  It was frigid out, nobody came in the store all day and I was reading a textbook on microeconomics (ZzzZzz).  Suddenly the door opened and in walked an older man.   I took his order, and then I took a better look at him.  He had piercing blue eyes, just like Paul Newman – but looking at his outfit, I thought - it couldn’t be him.  He was wearing old jeans with paint stains on them, a pilling sweater and a pair of old, beat up sneakers.     As I was ringing him out I said, “Ya know – you look just like Paul Newman.”   To which he laughed and said “Maybe on a bad day.”  

The man sat down inside to eat his ice cream.  The store was quite small, and him sitting inside to eat meant sitting about eight feet from where I was reading my economics text / falling asleep.  Glad to have the company, we started chatting.  He was asking me alot of questions about myself – Where do you go to school? What are you majoring in? What do you want to do once you graduate? and so on.  I learned the town he lived in, he told me a little about his wife and he told me some winter driving tips since it was my first time driving in the snow.

He finished up his ice cream and got up to leave.  He said how nice it was to have met me and that it was really nice talking to me.  Wished me the best and hoped to see me again.  I said the same to him.  And I meant it – It was nice to talk to him, and I did hope to see him again.  He went to leave, then suddenly turned around to face me.  He dug his hand into the pocket of his old jeans and said,

“Oh, by the way – I am Paul Newman.  Good luck with school.”

He took his hand out of his pocket, and left a fifty dollar bill in my tip jar, then left.  Got into his volvo and drove away. 

——

I told that story when I was a Sophmore in college as a part of a public speaking exercise.  “Just get up in front of the class and tell us a story.  Anything.”  After telling my story, a few members of my class had their own stories, that either happened to them personally or somebody they knew, all involving the generosity and good will of Mr. Newman.  Something he was renowned for around Fairfield County, CT - a place he called home.

Mr Newman’s humility not only won him the affection of people world wide, but also that of those in his own community.  We’ll miss him.

Would you rather?

At work on Friday, I asked a few “Would you rather” questions. 

Would you rather have the ability to fly or the ability to be invisible?

Would you rather be blind or deaf?

Would you rather have popcorn stuck in the back of your mouth, or have a fly keep buzzing around when you’re trying to sleep?

It’s now almost 1am, and I’ve spent the better part of 15 20 minutes hunting a fly that’s been buzzing around.  I’d like to retract my original answer to the question;  I’d rather the popcorn.

—–

Update: 1:23AM – Fly is dead.

Yale Art Gallery

I have every Tuesday off of work.  I know.  It’s rad.  I treat Tuesday like a second Sunday – but even lazier.  However, today I actually went out. 

Jenn, Holly and I went to the Yale Art Gallery  in New Haven.   It was funny being there with the two of them, because I know relatively little about art and my comments were limited to, “I like this one.” Meanwhile, Holly is giving me a rundown on Degas and Jenn is telling us all about the Warhol piece they have there.    Oh boy. 

It’s a really great gallery and I suggest everyone in the New Haven area check it out.  Even if aren’t into art, it’s so cool to see paintings that you studied in textbooks while you were in high school, only in real life.  Yale’s collection includes pieces from Claude Monet, Jackson Pollock, Andy Warhol, Piet Mondrian (which i knew something about!)  and alot more.  In fact, right now the gallery has Van Gogh’s Starry Night.  You know, one of the most famous paintings of all time.  Whatevz.  There are also sections for photography, ancient art, European art and more. 

Admission is free, it’s right downtown and it’s right across the street from The Yale Center for British Art.  Also free.  I’m probably going again next week because there’s a photography exhibit starting that Kara wanted to see. 

Wanna come?

(My experiments in agoraphobia failed miserably by the way – I’ll try again soon.) 

Staying In is the new Going Out. Experiments in agoraphobia.

I spent all of Saturday afternoon and evening at a friends’ BBQ, complaining about how hot it was. Not the BBQ, but the outdoors. Today has been stifling hot as well.

“But Mindy, you’re Australian – isn’t it always supa hot down unda?” – Everyone

(Stop with that ridiculous accent, Everyone)

Yes, it’s very hot during the summer, but it’s a dry heat. I can handle that. That, and the bushfires and terrible droughts. We have Vegemite and Koala’s – fair trade.

—–

Woman: It’s so human out there!

Man: Yeah, if the heat doesn’t get you, the humanity will.

[via overheardinnewyork.com]

—–

Anyway, I’m being serious. The humanity / humidity makes me feel claustrophobic in my own skin -as a result, I spent my entire day today inside, save for a seven minute excursion to the bank.

Earlier this week, I went out for coffee with some friends and said, “I go out almost every night these days, but I lovestaying in. I should do it more often.” After the action packed excitement of a day spent hibernating, I couldn’t agree with myself more. I actually got alot done today within these four walls. (There are more four, I just never counted.) In addition to actual work-related productivity, I did some reading, watched some really terrible TV, tried (in vain) to fix the disk drive on my laptop (help me, Internet), and decided I need a haircut. The whole thing reminded me of a conversation I recently had with Holly:

Me: I’m going out w. Melinda tonight
but like out-out, downtown sort of situation. Kinda feel like hibernating though. It’s early yet, we’ll see
Holly: hibernation!?
you aren’t a bear
Me: hibernation.
in fact i wanted to write a blog post about hibernating
1:41 PM Holly: haha
Me: i have a theory about it
Holly: that’s its nice for bears?
Me: no.
that it’s nice for me.
and that I’ll be a better person if I hibernate
Holly: hah ok
1:42 PM but for how long?
Me: TBA
Holly: I don’t like the sound of this. can you hibernate while I’m in Paris?
1:43 PM Me: it won’t be an extended period of time.
Let me run my theory by you…
Holly: haha ok
Me: If I go out like, one MAYBE two nights a week – good things will happen.
because we already know i like staying in anyway – i just rarely do -let me explain:
1:44 PM 1. I’ll have more money because I won’t have to buy drinks, spend money on gas / train / subway things. Won’t eat out as often and so on.
2. With said saved money, i’ll be able to buy cool stuff – like books, music and movies which I’ll have time to read / listen to / watch. And cool clothes – all the time.
3. Considering the above, when I DO go out – I’ll have rad outfits, and have cool things to say because I’m super cultured from the books and movies, and people will be glad to see me, because they miss me.
the last part of that of course, assumes that my friends like me.
that’s my theory.
1:45 PM Holly: its a good theory, I like it.
Holly: but do your friends like you?
Me: you tell me.

———————

(I never noticed how often I use dashes in internetspeak before)

If you start seeing me less, it’s not because i’m too busy, too cool, or uninterested in hanging out with you. It’s most likely because i’m testing this theory of mine or feel claustrophobic in this North East weather.

Realistically, I highly doubt i’d be able to go more than three or four days without seeing my friends. Even if you / they just came here and hibernated with me – I need the interraction. But it’s still something I consider. Going out is expensive, and I usually have just as much fun staying in (either here, or at someone else’s place) and just enjoying eachothers’ company.

What do you think? Hibernate for the summer? How should I get my hair cut?

And, of equal or lesser importance: should I go to grad school?
p.s. Kara, feel better. I love/miss you. Let’s stay-in soon.)

Rilo Kiley at Terminal 5

I saw Rilo Kiley on Monday night with Holly, Jenn, Sara and Eric.  After some serious delays due to the fine structuring of public transportation, we got to the venue just in the nick of time* as they took the stage about 10 minutes after we arrived. 

They were most likely waiting for us. 

I saw them in Boston last summer and they they were rad.  This time around, at Terminal 5, they were good, but I wouldn’t say rad.  And here’s why:

I think the venue had more to do with the lesser rad-ness than anything else.  Terminal 5 is midtown and it’s a hassle getting there, and unless you get there early to sit on the balcony sections, you’re packed in like sardines.  In addition to the sardines, there are poles that hold up the balconies, and this obstructs the view from the stage unless you’re right in the middle.  We weren’t in the middle, and unfortunately there was a 6′3″, 300 pound sardine leaning on the pole infront of me.  He seemed to have a good time though, and honestly – if I were a 6′3″ 300 pound person/slash/sardine, I’d put myself next to a pole too – so I’ll save my hatin’ for another day.

The set list was great.  Similar to the Boston show, and lacking cow bell (which was executed flawlessly by Jenny Lewis during the performance of “Breakin’ Up” last year), but still a really great mix of songs spanning their four albums.  I can’t say there was ever a dull point during the set, and the band seemed to have a great time on stage, which is always so nice to see.

Here the set list for those playing at home:

Close Call
The Moneymaker
Dreamworld
Capturing Moods
Breakin’ Up (Sans cowbell)
Does He Love You?
Ripchord 
The Absence of God
With Arms Outstretched
Hail to Whatever You Found In The Sunlight That Surrounds You
It’s A Hit
15
Silver Lining
I Never

—

A Better Son/Daughter
Portions for Foxes
Spectacular Views

 

Then we went home.  Eventually. 

I’m so glad I got to see them perform a second time.  After the Boston show I thought I wouldn’t see them for years / ever again, and they’re one of my favorite bands.  Top ten, definitely.

———————————-

*Where does this expression come from?  This ties back into my money making scheme of almost a year ago - a searchable database of commonly used expressions: where they come from, what they mean, and examples of them used in every day conversation.   Feel free to steal said idea.  I don’t want profits, I just really need these questions answered.

Also, the new Weezer and Coldplay songs are fun.  Just saying.  I’m not really that into either band, but really.  I havn’t heard either album in their entirety, but I’m looking forward to it. 

That’s America to Me.

On May 1st, I watched a baseball game for the first time.

No seriously – prior to that, I had never seen a baseball game, on TV or live.  I’m an uncultured swine – I know.  I chalked it up to being Australian, and usually would quip, “Oh so you spend your weekends watching cricket matches do you?”  Anyway, feeling that the time had come that I assimilate to the culture entirely, Steph took me to a baseball game.  Yankee stadium is great – the smells, the sounds, the ambiance of the whole thing is really spectacular.  I ate a hot dog in the stands of Yankee stadium and proclaimed, “Now this is America.” 

This weekend, I’m going camping for the first time with Sean, Jennand Alex.  Sean and Alex were both boy-scouts, Jenn was a girl scout (although, it’s a poorly kept secret that she was only in it for the cookies) and I was neither.  I was Australian.  However, I expect to eat smores, hot dogs and most likely will drink some (not so) delicious domestic beer this weekend.

I feel so American.  So American in fact, that I’m thinking I should be awarded honorary American citizenship.  There are  lots of things I’m yet to do that I think would qualify me for this imaginary honor I’ve just created, but I’ve also already done quite a few.  I’ve made a list.  An asterisk (one of these*) indicates that I’ve been there / done that.

• Go to prom *
• Go to college * 
• Carve a pumpkin
• Go trick or treating (hard to pull off as a 5′8″ 22 year old.  We’ll see)
• See fireworks on the 4th of July *
• See a parade (I know, I know…)
• Make an apple pie*
• Eat a corn dog (I’m a little cautious)
• Go to a drive-in movie theater
• Make / Drink egg nog
• Go to an awkward, uproarious thanksgiving dinner
• Eat an NYC hot dog*
• Eat smores made by a campfire

That’s all I’ve got so far.  I know I’m forgetting some.  So really, suggest something. I hope to check them all off once I’ve finalized the list.  Again, offer your suggestions, and if you’d like to accompany / supervise my Americanization with your watchful American eyes, let me know. 

October ‘92. For Kate.

When I was younger, the neighborhood kids and I would walk home from school, drop the backpacks, grab something to eat, and then hop on our wheels.  The six of us, and a million mosquitos would play for hours in the warm Australian afternoons until the streetlight at the top of the cul-de-sac flicked on – the universal symbol that it was time to go home.   

Being one of the youngest, and far from one of the coolest neighborhood kids, I was the last one to learn how to ride a bike.  I got my first bike in October of 1992, and it was a hand-me-down from my neighbor, Kate.  Kate was (and still is) five years older than me, which made her automatically the coolest person in the world.  The pre-loved bike was pink, had a fully functional straw basket on the front handlebars, a white seat, and a bell that didn’t work. 

My Dad put the white training wheels on the back and after a few weeks of wobbling around the backyard, they were ready to come off.  Because she was five years older and infinitely cooler, Kate offered to teach me how to ride. 

I was a very cautious child – probably because I was always hurting myself or getting hurt – which of course didn’t make me any cooler, but profoundly effected my bike riding lessons.  I wanted to avoid any momentum, so Kate taught me how to ride on a flat-section of our neighbors’ lawn, and held the back of my seat as I’d nervously shake and wobble through the grass.   

Here is an illustrated map of the street that I got from Google (<3) and edited to illustrate my story more accurately.

 

The hours came and went.  And it turned into days of Kate walking along next to me, one hand on the handlebar, and one hand on the back of my seat.  After this went on for a while, eventually Kate let go of the handle bar.  I could steer myself, thank you very much.  A while later, Kate had to quicken her walking pace to a slight jog – still holding the back of the seat.  After what seemed like an eternity of “Can I let go now?” “NO! ONE MORE TIME!” Kate was getting frustrated.  It’s honestly a huge credit to her that she didn’t intentionally push me over and give up.  I would have.

Kate needed me to feel confident that I could do it, so one day she asked the other neighborhood kids (all of whom were, without a doubt, much cooler than six year old “skinny-minnie”) to watch and see how I had progressed.  Everyone came out to watch.  My big brother, Donna, Brett, Danny, Mandy…I was a painfully shy and sensitive child, so this was a very big deal.  I wouldn’t say that I felt “cool” at that point in time, but I was definitely feeling confident that very soon, I’d be able to ride my bike with the rest of them. 

With her hand on the back of my seat, we started slowly as usual, then the adrenaline took over and I pushed the bike hard…well, as hard as my skinny legs could push, and I took off.  For the first time, Kate had to actually run to keep her hand on the seat – I felt the cool wind blowing wisps of hair around my face as I zoomed down the street, and I could hear the dull roar of everyone cheering beneath the pounding of my heart, swelled with pride. Kate’s smiling face in my peripheral vision, her laughter in my ear, and our dust training behind. 

When I stopped, my heart was racing in a delicious mix of adrenaline and excitement as everyone was clapping and cheering for me. “You did it, Minnie! You did it!”  Finally.  I had been accepted as one of the bike-riding cool-kids.  I felt so encouraged and empowered, I told Kate, “Ok, I’m ready to try without you holding me now.”

“But Minnie…I wasn’t holding on that time.”

 I’m a little unsure of what happened next.  But from what I can piece together: the pink bike hit the floor with a thud.  The smile disappeared as the blood drained from my face.  I had been betrayed.  I went from being so happy I was on the brink of tears, to feeling vulnerable, exposed and hoodwinked.  Those skinny legs that had pumped those pedals so fiercely now carried me up the street, tears streaming down my face.  How could this have happened? I wasn’t ready.  How could she do that to me? 

 I hate her.

 I burst into the house, still in hysterics, ran into my room and wished so hard that it had a lock.  Hiding under the covers, with my heart pounding angrily in my chest, I could overhear Mum and Kate downstairs.

 “What happened?!”
”She rode her bike and I wasn’t holding her.”
”…I don’t understand, why is she crying?”

 Weeks went by and I disappeared into my books again.  I resumed my position as Ernie’s little sister who reads and cries all day. 

 I’m not sure what happened, but I know eventually I got over the traumatic events of that warm day in October of ‘92, and began riding my bike with the cool kids.    

 I recently got back in touch with Kate, and thanked her for teaching me the ways of the road.  I don’t think she really realizes firstly, how traumatic it was when I was six, and secondly, how ultimately thankful I am for it today.  Anyone who knew me as a kid knows I would NEVER have done it willingly and I needed to be pushed. 

It taught six year old skinny Minnie that you’ve got to get yourself out of your comfort zone if you want to do something special.  Even if you’re scared, vulnerable and uncertain of what’s going to happen – you can’t get too comfortable with the hand on the back of your seat or you’ll never change.  Twenty two year old not-quite-as-skinny Mindy forgot that, and the hand of the back of my seat had been there for a long time.

My sincerest thanks to Kate for teaching me in ‘92. 

(And thanks to Kara for reminding me today.)

 

Minnie.

Ten Things I’ve Learned

As you can tell from the gross neglect of this blog – i’ve been very busy. No time for updates, no time for comments. No time for no nothing.

But it’s been an educational experience.

Top Ten Things I’ve Learned – March 28th through April 17th Edition

10. When I write out a text message on my phone, my phone guesses who I’m going to send it to, based on who I’ve text messaged the most recently. Currently, it almost always guesses it’s someone from school who i’ve been working with.

9. Holly is much better at Photoshop / Illustrator / Dreamweaver than I am, but she’s also a great teacher – thanks pal.

8. Always, always, always back up your work. In multiple places, in multiple formats, all the time. (I originally learned this the hard way a few semesters ago – luckily, this time around it was more of an “I knew it!” situation. It was just a scary reminder.)

7. Without fail, always have a plan B. This was another, “I knew it!” situation. And thank goodness.

6. When you have an absurd amount of work to do, you have GOT to take a break. Even if it’s killing you inside to walk away, knowing you have a deadline and you’ve got to press on – you’ll come back with a clearer head, you’ll look at your work more objectively, and all will be better.

5. Relatively speaking, Advertising in West Virginia is very cheap.

4. If you always, and truthfully do the best you can do, you can stand behind your work confidently. And that’s half the battle.

3. Working with groups is tough. It’s difficult to coordinate, and people can get testy under pressure. That’s old news. But, working with people you know, people you like, and people you can rely on is absolutely imperative. You’re more patient and flexible, and (most importantly) you know what they’re capable of. You’ve got to make the most of people’s abilities, get it done and have a few laughs along the way. (In case anyone from my team is reading this – we did a great job. Let’s celebrate.)

2. All work and no play makes Mindy a dull girl.

1. Pineapple’s grow individually, in the middle of a small plant. I had no idea. Image seach “Pineapple plant” and you’ll see what I mean.

I have no worth-while call to action to end this post with,

have a beautiful day.