Day 125 of The 365 Day Experiment. Dress Up Time.

I was never a tremendous fan of Halloween.  I looked forward to dressing up and collecting candy with the best of them, but it wasn’t my big go-to holiday.  I was always more of a Christmas kid.

There were probably a couple of factors that contributed to that.  For one, my mom was the type to hand-make our costumes.  No store-bought stuff for us…we had to look authentic.  Which, for the year I went as a geisha girl included two flowers sticking out of the top of my too-tight bun.  Of course, as soon as I left the house I promptly snapped them off.  My brother failed to tell me that I had two green stems protruding from my skull for the course of the evening.  I looked like a concubine with antennas.  I will not attempt tackle the appropriateness of why a parent thinks its okay for a child to be parade around collecting candy dressed as a japanese “entertainer” at the age of eight.  :)

There was also the year in elementary school when I missed three weeks of school due to a bad bout of pneumonia.  Of course that fell smack in the middle of Halloween.  I was allowed to get dressed up in my costume and hand out candy at the door that year.  Feeling like you have the power to say “just take one please” is small consolation when you are watching all you friends come and go from your front door.

As I got older, however, I learned to embrace the celebration in a different way.  Halloween became less about collecting candy and more about a display of creativity.  My brother, a product designer and insanely talented creative mind, immediately threw down the gauntlet when he designed a gorilla holding a hunter captive in a cage - and he was the guy in the cage.  It was such a feat of engineering, design, and imagination, I was inspired.  From then on, I wanted to bring my A to the holiday.  

Over the past several years, I’ve done duos to embarrass my kids (Troy and Gabriella from High School Musical, Seigfreid and Roy) and foursomes with good friends (Blue Man Group, Village People) and then just plain old me…like Supermom last weekend and my personal favorite a few years ago - myself at 15.  That one was complete with blue hair and my vintage leopard skin pants from freshman year.  I’ll never match my brother’s imagination, but it’s fun to get put reality aside for a day and embrace your playful side.    I mean, isn’t that what Halloween really about?  Nothing is really as it seems.  You are still you, but you get to play dress up for a day.  And as an adult, any opportunity to let your guard down and have some fun seems like a pretty good thing to me.

My kids are at the age now where they are cruising the neighborhood with their friends.  They no longer need a parent to chaperone their candy walks.  My oldest is likely on her last tour, and she’s celebrating by having a group of friends over for trick or treating and pizza.  It warms my heart that her group is graciously looking over my youngest and her friend as they collect their candy, as I am at home handing it out.  I’ve already had my Halloween fun this season, both at a party last weekend and at work today.  Tonight it is their turn.  And in the crazy, programmed lives we all live, it’s wonderful for all of us to just enjoy a night of wholesome fun.  The old-fashioned way.  No cell phones needed, no craziness.  Just a bunch of friends, dressing up, and having a good time.  

They are having fun and embracing their fun and creative side, just like their mom still does. 

Day 124 of The 365 Day Experiment. Can't Sit Still.

I know I don’t have ADD, but I have a serious issue sitting still.  I am watching the World Series Game 6 right now.  Arguably, one of the most anticipated sporting events to happen in Boston in a long time…and I’m the fan who is typing away.  And it’s not because of my craziness to check this off my to do list every night.  It’s because I am incapable of just sitting quietly and watching tv.  

And when I finish writing, I’ll move on to finishing up a PowerPoint I need to complete for next week’s board meeting.  And then, because I know the game will go late, I’ll “relax” by attempting to crank out a few inches on a baby blanket I am knitting for a friend.  This behavior used to drive my husband crazy.  Fortunately, it does not bother my daughters.  I’ve explained to them the basic rules of baseball while all of this is going on, and they have their own crazy multi-tasking going on, because candidly, they just don’t care that much about this game even though they are pretending to.

I don’t know when or how this behavior pattern started.  I suspect it was when I started working.  Soon after I entered the workforce, I started graduate school.  As I was going at night and on weekends, I was eager to get it done as quickly as possible.  Two years and no social life later, and I had a masters.  And a true understanding of what it meant to multitask.  I learned how to work by day, attend class by night, and do homework into the wee hours of the morning - and fit the rest of my life into the cracks.  

Part of me is envious of those who can hit the pause button, and just kick back and relax.  And I was reminded of this need today.  One of the women who works on one of my teams called me with a brilliant idea.  While she is wired somewhat like me, she was recognizing others need to recharge after a particular brutal quarter.  We shared thoughts about what people need, and what would be feasible to create from a business perspective about how to address those needs.  And I dare say we came up with a pretty creative concept.

It was a good conversation for a number of reasons. For one, she was excited to share her idea and have me actually buy into it.  It was also good for me to be reminded that people do need to recharge their batteries.  The insane start-up junkie life I signed myself up for isn’t normal.  And though I can’t imagine living any other way, I understand why every once in awhile, chilling out and just being in the moment is important.  And I just don’t do it enough.

Somehow, I’ve learned how to embrace this time with my daughters.  Perhaps it comes from the parental guilt many working parents feel, added with the additional angst of a divorcing family.  I have fully embraced that when I am with my kids, I am present.  I am theirs.  And it’s rare that I’ll make them take second place to anything else on my plate during those few precious hours each day that I get with them.

But with my personal time, I know it’s likely I’ll never be able to sit in front of a tv and actually sit.  However, I am going to look for help in making the most of maximizing my down time. I need to learn how to enjoy each activity, rather than just try to jam them all together so I get a taste of each of them.   I’ve learned how to ask my assistant to actually help me organize my meeting-filled days so I can get actual work done during the day, so it’s not always left for evening.  Then I can find ways to use that evening time for some of those hobbies…or maybe just relaxing.  Wishful thinking, but I can try.  

Life is short, and I am trying hard to cram so many things into my experience before my time is up.  I am grateful for every day I’ve got, so I feel guilty “wasting time” by just sitting around on my butt watching tv or lounging around.  I also understand, however, that without the ability to relax and rejuvenate, I’m good to no one.  Including myself. 

So with that, I’m going to finish up this post, and then the board slides.  Then I’ll shut my computer down and put the knitting aside.  It can wait until tomorrow.  Watching the Red Sox win in Boston deserves my full attention.  Go team. :)

Day 123 of The 365 Day Experiment. A Seat At The Table.

With Thanksgiving just around the corner, I have vague memories of those days when I was stuck at the "kiddie table."  That crappy card table, always one foot slightly off kilter, that was intended for those who just weren't quite ready for prime time at the "real table" yet.  And when you finally got there, you felt like you made it.

Zoom ahead a few decades.  My CEO and I tagged teamed at an event last week about best practices in the field of human resources. During the coffee breaks, a number of people asked me, "how did you get a seat at the table?"  I paused.  

In the field of human resources, it has been notoriously difficult to get a seat at the proverbial table.  Why?  Because historically this field hasn't been thought of as a strategic partner.  Back in the days when it was "personnel", it was the team that was responsible for throwing parties and filing records.  Perhaps tackling the tough hiring and firing issues.  Today's teams, at least the successful ones, are true business partners.  

If a company is fortunate enough to have a savvy CEO who "gets it,"  that individual is partnering with a HR executive who truly understands the business.  In short, earning that seat at the table doesn't just mean you got there because the executive team thinks that people are an important part of the equation and they better toss you into the mix.  It means if you were invited to the table, you better make the most of your time there.  You don't want to be an invited guest; you want to be a daily diner.

So if you have worked hard enough to be invited to the "big kids table," how do you earn the respect to hold your place there? 

You live and breath the business.  Your major might be in all things people related, but you better minor in every other subject.  Products, sales, finance, etc.  You need to understand how the business runs and operates. On top of it, you need to develop a strategic point of view.

You need to understand how all the human resources needs affect the rest of the company.  Everything you present and support should advance the business strategy of the company.  And you need to be able to present and articulate those ideas and plans in a concise, articulate manner.  

You need to understand an issue from all sides, and how it affects all areas of the business. You need to constantly seek to broaden your knowledge, and strengthen your relationships will also serve you well.  And of course, support your ideas with data.  Ideas backed with factual evidence and/or crisp information will only further your agenda and credibility.

Mostly importantly, have a voice.  You've earned a seat at that big table.  There's absolutely no benefit to sitting there unless you let your voice be heard.    

A long time ago I shunned the term "human resources."  In my mind, people are the single most important element to a successful company.  Therefore, you can't think of those people as "resources." Even the best business plan will fail if you don't nail the people strategy.  And that's what it is.  The company has a business strategy, so it needs to have a people strategy to partner with it.  

If your company is savvy enough to embrace that, lucky you.  Embrace it, drive it, and give it a voice.  Pull in your chair. It's dinner time. 

Day 122 of The 365 Day Experiment. What's In Your Backpack?

I am sitting on my couch, staring at a picture of my daughters that hangs above my mantle.  I adore it, as it is perfect in its simplicity.  We were at the Central Park Zoo when it was taken, and they were walking away from me.  They are holding hands, content in just wandering through the park.  It’s one of my favorite images of them together.

Which got me thinking.  Remember the movie Up in the Air with George Clooney?  He gave a speech about how all the things we collect in our lives eventually weigh us down.  So if I had a backpack, what would I pack it with?  Would that picture make it into the pack?

There are a number of obvious things that immediately came to mind as I started to write this paragraph.  Photo albums that capture decades of history.  Well worn books that have moved from house to house, that I re-read every few years.  A pair of turquoise leopard skin pants I bought at age 15, with my allowance during my punk phase, in one of my first signs of independence.  A picture my brother painted of my beloved city of Florence that hangs above my bed.  But in reality, none of it would likely get stuffed into that backpack.

If I only had a backpack in which to take my most important treasures, I’d likely take precious little.  At the core, the items above are just stuff.  I think because I spend so much of my life looking forward rather than looking back, I don’t have too many things I couldn’t live without.  

Ultimately, I think I would take what I carry on a daily basis, and add my passport to the mix.  On any given day, I have everything I need in my bag.  My MacBook Air, which is my command center for life.  My iPad, which houses my books, my music, my photos, my ideas.  My iPhone, which allows me the portable version of all the above, and also allows me to actually speak to those I want and need to.  Notebooks, so I can go off the grid and actually write long-hand, draw, think and create - the old-fashioned way.  My wallet, because it holds the key to all things financial. And all the other junk I keep in my bag.  Random makeup, keys, gum, things to write with.  And of course my passport, so I can continue to travel. 

I feel like everything I truly need, except for some clean clothes, a journal my children write in for me for every holiday and my children themselves, I carry with me on a daily basis.

I’m not sure how I feel about this.  I suppose my heavy reliance on technology has allowed me to streamline a lot of my life.  That said, it kind of bums me out to realize I’m not much of a sentimental person.  That which is most important to me is right in front of my face.  Without my children, friends, family and the work I love, everything else is pretty meaningless.  

I’m clear on one thing though…I’m likely not carrying a backpack.  All those things can fit neatly into my Louis Vuitton bag.  And I worked my a** off for that thing.

What’s In Your Backpack?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I9N9OUDZM7c

Day 121 of the 365 Day Experiment. 15 Minutes of Fame.

I was in the checkout line at CVS this morning, assaulted with about six magazines all boasting images of Kim Kardashian's latest news.  And as I listened to the teenage girls to my left chatting about Kim's over-the-top engagement to Kanye in graphic detail, I thought to myself, do they know why this girl is in the public eye?  Does anyone remember?  This chick made a sex tape with Ray-J.  The daughter of one of OJ's lawyers made a video with a D-list singer and it went viral.  And bam - zoom ahead, she's the Paris Hilton of her generation.  Candidly, this really bums me out. 

Don't get me wrong, on the surface, I can understand.  She's a beautiful girl, and her momager is one of the best.  Kris Jenner would sell her soul to the devil if it would drive ratings and generate revenue. But this family is what I absolutely don't understand about today's media and celebrity in general - we fixate on people who are famous for being famous.  It appears that we have little regard for people who have actual talent.  

After 9/11, I remember there was a period of a few weeks were we seemed to take things a little more seriously as a country.  We pulled together as a one, and focused on that which makes us great.  It didn't take long, however, to dumb us down again.  Today's airwaves are filled with reality tv, and we've turned their casts into celebrities. It doesn't matter that many of these people have done nothing in life to be notable - typically we are celebrating their lifestyles of excess or chaos.  In my humble opinion, we tune in because we either wish we could have a taste of their lives, or they make us feel better about our own lives.

And sometimes I'll tune in too.  I love me some good pop culture.  But it troubles me that my kids are growing up in an age where becoming famous is the goal, as opposed to developing a talent.  I have such respect for those incredible actors and actresses who are immensely gifted and yet keep themselves out of the headlines.  They may become famous, but it seems that it isn't important to them.  It's like being cool.  If you have to tell people you are cool, you probably aren't.  And if you have to blast Twitter and post provocative selfies of yourself like Kim Kardashian, my guess is that you are probably a little desperate for fame for fear it will disappear as quickly as it came.

I don't understand fame, or the attraction to it.  Maybe that's because I'm so private and I'd make the worst famous person ever.  Or maybe I'd make the best, because I just don't value it.  Being on the cover of a magazine or having a tv show isn't what impresses me.  If you are a master of whatever you do and are pretty humble about it to boot, you are a total superstar in my eyes.

Day 120 of The 365 Day Experiment. The Power of Breaking Down.

For a passionate Italian, you aren’t going to see a lot of table flipping from me or other emotionally charged behavior ala Theresa Guidice (Real Housewives of New Jersey reference for the guys who have no clue what the hell I’m talking about.)  In my high school yearbook, one friend wrote “you are always so calm, cool, and collected.”  While I certainly don’t agree with that assessment, it is an interesting thing to hear about oneself.    

This week has been a roller coaster of emotion. I learned of my divorce date hearing, just two weeks away, after months of waiting for it just to be over. And then I had an amazing night attending a World Series with a great friend who was living out a lifelong dream. Then I had to say goodbye to someone I had worked hard to mentor, only to be bitterly disappointed in the end.   And then I got to speak at an event about how amazing what I do for a living is; which reminded me how incredibly fortunate I am to be blessed with a career I adore.  I was afraid to go to work today for fear of what might happen next.

And with all that occurred throughout my week, I took most of it in stride.  The court date just quietly went in my calendar, with a bit of a buffer on the back end so that I allow myself a bit of time to get to work afterwards…but only after I fix my makeup.  While I’m sure the quick 10 minute hearing is going to be highly anti-climatic, I know myself.  The finality of the whole thing is going to bring me to tears, and a girl’s got to give herself a few extra minutes to tidy up that mascara that’s moved from her eyes down her cheeks.

The other ups and downs, they just are what they are.  I’m so grateful for the amazing things, as they balance out the lows.  But sometimes, it all gets a little much.  

So tonight, one of my friends called me on my way home from work.  She herself has been having a particularly hard week, and I have been trying to be a supportive friend.  Tonight, she turned the tables.  ”How are YOU?,” she asked.  I gave me standard bullshit response of “Fine,” before she started probing.  And then the floodgates opened.  There, in my car, I was open with her.  I told her about something I was struggling with - complete with tears -  and she listened.  She provided her perspective, partnered with her own unique brand of comedy woven in.  Within a 10 minute conversation, I instantly felt better.  And it was one comment that she made that did it.  She said “You are always so stoic.  I am so glad you are opening up. You don’t always have to hold everything in.” 

And she was right.

I have spent the better part of the last year+ trying to hold it together for my kids.  No crying, no breaking down in front of them.  But maybe that’s not so healthy either.  Showing my daughters that mommy is so tough that she never cries, never loses her cool, etc. isn’t reality.  And I do that at work too.  One of my oldest tattoos, my ode to start-ups, is a Chinese symbol representing “crisis.”  The top symbol represents danger, the bottom opportunity.  I typically only see the opportunity in a given situation; not the “danger.”  So in a work context, with hypergrowth, or insane change, I just take a deep breath and buckle in.  It’s all part of the ride.  When you’ve lived at that amusement park for 20 years, you have become the carny.  I understand how the rides work.  I understand everyone gets off safely. And for most importantly, I understand that people have a blast while they are they. 

However, I am still human.  Even those of us with a strong shell crack like Humpty Dumpty sometimes.  Holding that in isn’t what makes us special - it turns us cold.  And I’m so grateful that I’ve got some people in my life that can read me well enough to know when it’s time for me to break down.  Today was one of those days.  It’s cathartic to be able to talk to a friend, let out how you are feeling, and feel instantly better. 

Maybe this experiment is a turning into a truly positive thing.  While nothing I wrote caused me to share with her, I have learned I’m becoming a more open person in general.  I’ve learned that friendships are a two way street.  I’ve learned that my friends actually want to be there for me too. It makes them feel bad if I’m always listening to their stuff, but I don’t open up to them - like I’m either completely closed off or I am insanely together.   

While I don’t think anyone will ever see me have a giant meltdown, I’m glad I’m starting to be comfortable sharing when I’m not feeling great.  I don’t live in that space for long, but sharing it with someone who cares sure helps me get past it faster. So thanks, girlfriend. 

Day 119 of The 365 Day Experiment. Fenway Magic.

Last night at this time, I was sitting in the bleachers of Fenway Park, bundled up for the unseasonably crisp air, and was exceptionally happy.  I cheered on the Red Sox as did everyone in that stadium.  But the joy I felt came from so much more than just watching our bearded Boston boys do us proud.  

It came from sitting in the bleachers with die hard fans, who became new friends by the end of the evening.  We not only cheered the team on as one, but we danced, sang and rubbed some lady’s fox coat for good luck together. 

It came from the nostalgia of watching Yaz and Luis Tiant take the field before the game, and get the due respect they so richly deserve. 

It came from the sense of pride felt when three American service men - Medal of Honor recipients -  were honored before the game, and reminded us of how much they do for our country, and how fortunate we are to live here.

It came from a magical moment when Mary J. Blige belted out the national anthem with style,  and had four fighter jets fly overhead at just the right moment in the song.

And most memorably, it came from sharing the night with a friend of over 30 years.  And knowing that going to a World Series was on his bucket list, and being able to provide him with a ticket to allow him to check that off.

I have a bucket list as well, which he’s triggered me to revisit.  I’ve done most of which I put on it back when it was created.  I am now inspired to add more, and continue to challenge myself to come up with new experiences.  For last night, however, I feel exceptionally grateful. Not only did I have an incredible night at a World Series game - something I’ve never done before - I got to share in a good friend’s achievement of a lifelong dream.  What a special gift that is to be part of.

Day 118 of The 365 Day Experiment. My Bling.

I never thought about how much jewelry I wore until a recent trip to the airport. Typically, I go for the scanning machines at the security checkpoint - the ones that allow you to just stand and put your hands over your head - because I don’t have to get half naked to go through them. But when I don’t have the choice and have to go through the walk-through version, it’s a giant pain in the butt. I make that thing beep like a Vegas slot machine.

I wear jewelry like I wear my tattoos.  They are part of my body, most don’t come off, and they tell a story.  And oddly, with body, the majority of it resides on the left side of my body.

I’ll start with the metal.  I grew up with a grandmother who adored gold, and used to let me try on the beautiful pieces she had collected through her years of living in Rome. I couldn’t wait until I was old enough to wear my own.  As a teenager I was in a fashion show, modeling a gold lame prom dress.  Yes, hideous.  My boyfriend’s mother made a comment that left an impact to this day:  ”You looked beautiful up there, but gold is NOT your color.”  Since then, I have only worn silver.

My mom let me get my ears pierced when I was in third grade.  Pretty basic stuff.  And then when I got to high school and my “interesting, experimental phase” I took it upon myself to pierce them again, and again.  And you can tell it was a DIY job.  They are crooked.  Since I was 15, I have pretty much worn hoops and two pairs of small diamond studs in my ears. 

And then there are the bracelets.  I wear seven bracelets on my left wrist. Each is meaningful, and have been collected through the years.  Most are gifts by people who mean a tremendous amount to me.  The only time I take them off is when I have to go through airport security.  

And then there are the rings.  For over ten years, I’ve worn a plain silver band on my thumb, a replica of my husband’s wedding band.  On top of it sits another band, with a small emerald.  A gift I received on our 5th anniversary.  Those never come off.  To its right, I wear a ruby and diamond band I received when my youngest was born, which I take off every night.  Which is weird; it’s the only thing that comes off, in addition to a random necklace or watch I might be wearing.  And then there is my “wedding finger.”  My amazing upgraded diamond, the one I so proudly wore after “earning it” through the hard work of fifteen years of marriage, is gone.  It’s been replaced by something almost as special. 

This summer, the day before we left for Italy, my daughters pooled their allowance and bought me a tiny silver ring.  You have to squint to figure out what it is, but it’s a skull and crossbones, with hearts where the eyes go.  Many emotions went through my head when they presented me with this little treat.  For one, I was incredibly touched they bought me anything.  I think it’s the first time they’ve ever spent money on me that didn’t involve their father’s help.  Secondly, my head went to, “what were they thinking when they choose a skull and crossbones?!  They think I’m a pirate?!”  

When asked, they had a simple answer.  ”Mom, you are badass.”

To which I promptly hugged them tightly, thanked them profusely, and the scolded them for using the word “ass.”   And I never take it off.

Day 117 Of The 365 Day Experiment. 7 WTF Moments.

I believe in live and let live. And because of that, I tend to open myself to some pretty interesting people and experiences. I love that I’ve done charity work with a royal family, and that I was best man in a famous computer hacker’s wedding.  And I love waiting to see what’s behind the next open door.

As I sat stuck in traffic this morning, I pondered the relatively tame year I’ve had. Working and single motherhood hasn’t left me much time to venture out and experience life…or has it, and I just take it for granted?  When asked what I’ve been up to, I’m typically met with a WTF response by my friends.  As in, how the hell did you end up in that situation, or how did you even meet that person?!

So, as I sat in gridlock along 93 this morning, I recalled a few of my favorite WTF moments of the several months.  At least the ones I can share.  While I aim to be open through this medium, there is just some stuff I cannot go public with to protect people.  But damn, that’s the good stuff.

7. 50 Shades of Something. I got set up with a guy who on paper seemed great.  We went out just a few times, before I found out about his “alternative” lifestyle.  I sensed something wasn’t quite right by the way he hinted about his sexual interests, but stupid me couldn’t figure it out.  I finally blurted out, “Are you trying to suggest there is a ball gag in my future?”  Response?  ”If I’m lucky.”  Game over, pal.  Have you met me?  What the hell suggests I’m a woman that likes to be dominated? To each his own, but this guy was no Christian Grey.  And I am certainly not Anastasia. 

6. I’m No Cougar.  I got called a cougar by a younger guy a work, and I ripped his head off for it. While it was his attempt at a compliment, it didn’t fly. This happened over a year ago, and the conversation resurfaced again last week.  Apparently, after a slew of people joined in the discussion, we learned men and women have different interpretations of what this means.   Cougar would have been appropriate if I was on the prowl for guys his age…and believe me, I am past the stage of wanting to teach anybody anything.  Let’s get it right people:  you refer to the head of HR as a MILF, not a Cougar.  Get it right.  

5. Fries with That? Got a call as I am boarding an airplane that one of our employees has been arrested for allegedly shooting at a drive by window at fast food restaurant.  Seriously?  Curly fries not come out fast enough?  No worries people.  If you don’t know this person or the story then we did a good job -  he’s long gone, and we are safe.  

4. Being Asked to Join a Threesome. Twice.  The first time, I thought I was all special, until I told my male friend what had just happened and he responded “they just asked me five minutes ago.”  I guess they cast a pretty wide net.   I’m learning that being single = people think you might be open to not-so-standard stuff.  Or maybe all this stuff is now the new standard and I’m just so damn old I’m just completely out of what’s popular these days.

3. My Daughter Is Growing Up. Someday she will read this, so I will do my best not to completely embarrass her.  Let's just put it this way.  When I was 12 and got my period, my mom provided me with the appropriate supplies and let me figure it out.  It's not complicated.  While in Jamaica and the need to to teach her about tampons arose, let's just say she was looking for a little more help.  I will be 95 with Alzheimer's and never get the image out of my head of what the hell went on in that hotel bathroom.  Accompanied by Gia banging on the bathroom doing saying "What are you guys doing in there?!"  That scenario was NOT in the parenting handbook. 

2. Shop is Closed. When I got really sick last month and was out of work for a few days, I got well wishes from a number of co-workers.  A lot of “get well soon, let me know if I can do anything to help you out.”  Super thoughtful.  And then I got one I had to reread a number of times.  ”If it would help you get well by impregnating you I’m happy to take one for the team.”  This did not come from an idiot 23 year old.  This might be my favorite WTF work moment of the year.  

1. What The Hell Was I Thinking? Me actually taking the time to write this stuff down and share it publicly. I am staring at about another 3 hours of work tonight, and I’m sitting at my computer typing out crazy moments because I’m committed to getting this done every bloody day for another 2/3rds of a year.  Some days I’m inspired, and other days I’m just plain getting it done.  Thankfully, today I actually cracked myself up as I thought about the stuff I was writing - and that which was so insane I actually couldn’t write about it.

I’m glad these moments are balanced with some generally “normal” days. But what fun are those?!

Day 116 of The 365 Day Experiment. Funny Business.

Day 116 of The 365 Day Experiment. Funny Business.

During times of stress or angst, I try my best to laugh. This past year I’ve been laughing ALOT.  

I grew up in a house filled with a lot of intensity.  While I’m sure there is a lot of positive that comes from that, in and of itself growing up that way took a toll.  My brother and I are both convinced we married in part for “funny.” 

And over the years, “funny” has become my go-to emotion.  I have surrounded myself with funny people.  I don’t need alcohol or food to soothe me when I’m down…I need someone to crack me up.  And if someone isn’t getting it done, I’ll start going myself.

I am fortunate to live with a comedian.  First, I married one, and it’s one of the things I miss most about him.  The guy literally made me laugh every single day.   And thankfully, his funny wore off on my youngest daughter.  She may look just like me, but she can entertain a room like her dad.  Between her love of attention and her creative wit, this kid may have a future in comedy.  Or stripping.  She still hasn’t outgrown her 3-year self’s desire to run around the house in her underwear and she loves heels.  I’m doing my best to focus her and keep her off the pole.  I guess we will see how expensive college costs are by the time she heads off and then we’ll make a game time decision. 

At work, the stress level runs parallel with the comedy.  The more chaos, the better the headliner.  Right now my two favorite acts are two women.  Vastly different in their styles and approaches, equally hysterical.  And yes, you both know who you are.  Big shout outs for making me unproductive for significant periods every single day.  And to the guys in the office for providing such incredibly rich material for them to work with.  And then of course, there is the guy who actually did pursue a career in comedy.  I’m fortunate enough to get to laugh with him on a daily basis.  Though often I find myself trying to make him laugh, because he needs it more than I do.  As funny as he is, his frequently high stress level makes me feel like I have done time in a Zen garden. Thankfully we have a good give-take relationship.

The point? I need the funny.  And if I’m not having a great day, and something is getting me down, I’ll go create the funny.  I’ve been known to start an inane conversation outside my office with one of my “funny buddies” and we’ll get going with one ridiculous comment.  And while it may not be super professional to be doubled over howling, it makes US feel good.  And when people see us laughing, they join in.  People want to be part of joy and happiness.  I’m happy to contribute to that.  And while I’m far from the funniest person I know,  I’m pretty decent with a one liner.  So if you see me in a crappy me, say something funny.  You’ll instantly change my mood.  And I’ll do the same for you.  LOL. :)

PS - Yes, that was a joke about my daughter.  I do not in any way support a career in stripping, should she decide to choose that path, no matter how much college costs.  I’m raising entrepreneurs here.  Own the club, don’t be the dancer. 

Day 115 of The 365 Day Experiment. The Bright Side of Divorce.

Every time I think my marriage is behind, something pops up and reminds me that it takes longer than a year to sweep an eighteen year relationship from your memory that quickly. And when it does, BAM! Sometimes those feelings of grief surface all over again. That happened last night for a brief moment. Something happened that rendered me speechless. I indulged in sadness for a few moments, and then said, DONE. I cannot allow myself to feel anymore pain that is so behind me now.

So I’m channeling that energy into the positive things that come from divorce. I never wanted to be in this position, but I’ll be damned if I’m not going to make the most of it now that I have the opportunity.

There are far more than these, I’m sure….but these are the top 5 things I’ve discovered to date.

The Bright Side of Divorce - Top 5

5. New friends and adventures.

While nothing could ever replace the friends I love and have been with me through thick and thin, being single forces you to branch out and meet new people.  I guess you don't need to do that, unless you constantly want to show up at things alone, or always feel like a third wheel.  Meeting both new single women and men has been great.  It's not only broadened my social circle, but I've widened my interests in things as well.  New people, new experiences.  A win-win.  

4. I'm holding it together pretty well physically.

I have heard rumors that as soon as people get divorced they immediately hit the gym hard, get cosmetic surgery, etc...all in the preparation for finding a new mate.  I'm not one of those people.  However, I'm taking full advantage of the fact that I'm not cooking for anyone at night anymore, and that I just had a bad illness that caused me to drop a couple of pounds.  I'll use what I've got, as long as I can take advantage of it. 

3. First kisses.

I confess, when I was married, I sometimes letting my mind wander to the thought of of kissing someone new.  It’s wasn’t the desire to want to sleep with someone else that crossed my mind.  It was the missing that “first kiss” feeling.  That crazy, can’t-think-straight-anticipation that came with the excitement of kissing someone new.  If someone could figure out how to bottle that magical feeling, I imagine their wealth would surpass that of Mark Zuckerberg.  And I've had a couple.  And they are just as awesome as I remember.

2. I’m a better mom.

I love my job, but being a great mom is my first priority.  And before my divorce I thought I was a pretty good one.  Becoming a single parent forced me to reassess my priorities.  To ensure I put my phone and computer away when I get home from work and focus on them for those few precious hours before they go to sleep.  To listen to them even more carefully, and to create experiences and lifelong memories that will cement our relationship.  We've morphed from mother and children to a three peas in a pod, all interconnected and supportive of each other.  Of all my accomplishments in life, how I have helped my kids through this transition might be my single proudest.

1. I’m happy.

Realizing something wasn't working in my relationship caused me to speak up.  While I certainly didn't expect the outcome I got, I am fortunate for the way it ended.  After all of the drama, I am in a way better place.  And I have no regrets.  I may be husbandless, but I am happier as a person overall.  Can I get a hell ya?!

Day 114 of The 365 Day Experiment. Guy Friends.

I adore the ladies in my life.  Those few, deep, meaningful relationships I cherish as I imagine I would as if they were my real sisters.  And my more extended circle of girlfriends are women I throughly enjoy sharing stories, life, and laughs with in a way men would just never understand or relate to.  

And then there are my guy friends.  Ever since I was a kid, I have always enjoyed my friendships with guys.  There is something easy about it.  Unlike  my female friendships, they are far less complicated.  There are no elaborate birthday celebrations to plan for and organize, and not nearly the same level of drama on a daily basis.  Men aren't nearly as gossipy, and they generally tell it like they see it.  I appreciate their straight-forwardness.  

I think this stems from having a brother who I have always loved.  We grew up close and shared just about everything. And as we got older, sharing everything meant delving into topics like sex and relationships.  We shared points of view and perspectives that I still find relevant to this day.  For both of us, it was wonderful having a trusted insider from the opposite gender as your "go-to" to vet your basic questions.  

For more years than I can count, we made a ritual of staying up all night on Christmas eve, hanging out in the same room, and sharing stories and insights.  I was incredibly disappointed the year I got married and my husband put an end to that annual event...he had zero interest in sharing the room with my brother and I while we talked about details that would likely include him at that point.  I grudgingly gave it up. 

As I entered the workforce, I was surrounded by men.  It's hard to be in tech companies and not be.  And rather than feeling uncomfortable or intimidated, I was energized.  These guys jumped right in and shared their ideas in meetings.  They spoke with confidence and finesse.  There was no timidness, or feelings of being unworthy that I saw in some of my female counterparts.  I saw more of the males working hard and achieving what they set out to accomplish through hard work and a sense of fearlessness.  That model resonated with me.   So they became my friends.  

And I have been fortunate; I have chosen wisely.  My very good guy friends are just that - friends.  We've known each other for years, and have always known where we stood with each other.  When I met E, I had a gaggle of both men and women friends.  One of the things that attracted me to him was that he wasn't threatened by it.  And I tried hard never to take advantage.  I included him in those friendships, and he got to know them.  In essence, I never gave him anything to worry about - he knew they were truly just friends.

I had an incredible night just two days ago with one of my best girlfriends. When we spend time together we can literally cover the full range of emotions from tears to hysterical laughter in the course of 15 minutes.  And on one random Wednesday night, we had one of the funniest after work drink experiences I've had in a long time.  It was awesome.  And likely never would have been as great if I had shared it with a guy.  

Two days later, I was ironically in exactly the same bar tonight, with a guy friend of almost 20 years.  We haven't seen each other in years; marriage, kids, work and lives make it far less convenient to keep in touch with guy friends than it does girl friends.  

Within the course of minutes, we were deep into conversation like we had seen each other last week.  And we shared things about a hundred different topics that candidly I probably wouldn't have been as comfortable discussing with some of my girlfriends.   I think perhaps there is that air of non-judgment ease that comes with me. And that is not at all to suggest that all women are judgmental and all men aren't - it just means I feel like I can open up easier with a guy, because I don't feel as judged or analyzed.  And typically speaking, I think - and I stress think because I have zero evidence of this - that men feel comfortable "going there" with me because I don't offend easily, and I am a pretty open book.  If you want to ask my opinion on something, I'll give you a direct answer...it doesn't matter what the topic is.  

I know there's been a raging debate for years about whether men and women can truly be friends, because one of them will always be attracted to the other and the relationship will fall out of balance.  I disagree.  I think if there is an understanding that it's a friendship only, and each person understands their role in that friendship, it's all good.

30+ years ago, my mother's only interaction with men outside of my father was the creepy guy who pumped gas at the service station, as well as   the mail man.   She certainly wasn't hitting these guys up for their insights or wisdom, or sharing ideas with them.  I remember feeling bad for her because of this.  Little did I know how significant that scene would play out later in my life.

I am absolutely blessed with the people in my life.  I have some incredible women friends, as well as some guys I truly cherish.  Like everything else in life, I believe balance is the key.  With a crazy work and kids schedule right now, my life is slightly unbalanced - but I'm glad this is one place I've got balance down pretty well. 

Day 113 of The 365 Day Experiment. Early Mornings.

I am blurry eyed this morning, already at my desk at 5:30 in the morning.  Up at 4 am, I dropped by nanny off at the airport so she can head off on vacation for a week.  While she certainly is entitled to one, it’s not lost on me that I just made my life increasingly more difficult for the next week, starting with a 4 am wake up call to transport her.  

Before I dig in, I need to get my brain started.  Starbucks and Dunkins in my building both have the audacity to still be closed.  I’ve got to slum it and drink the office crap.  Putting it a real coffee mug does precious little to enhance it’s flavor.  The only thing that’s helped so far is Spotify.  I’ve got a great playlist playing some music to wake me from my still near-stupor.  Nothing like a little pre-dawn Holy Grail to shake you awake.

I love this quiet time.  It is such a rarity for me, be it at work or at home.  The opportunity to think and create.  My days are spent running from meeting, to conference call, to commute filled with return calls missed from the day to walking into a house that greets me with an immediate transition into Supermom.  I spend my days as a forced extrovert.  In reality, I am introverted.  While I truly enjoy the company of others, I gain my energy having some alone time and allowing myself some time to reflect.

When I got sick last month, my “me” time became extinct.  That small window, those few hours I had after my kids were comfortably tucked into bed that I would use to write and finish my work from the day vanished.  I would say goodnight to them and then pass out myself.  Thankfully, I’m on the mend and back to my vampire routine.

And as I sit at my desk right now right now, I am grateful.  It is still pitch dark in Boston.  The sun has not yet begun to rise over Boston.  When it does, I will get to enjoy the rowers hitting their early stride on the Charles from the incredible view I am privileged to enjoy every day. I will see my co-workers begin to fill our office starting at about 7 am, because they are just as committed and passionate as I.  And until then, I will have the office to myself, to crank through my work and my thoughts uninterrupted.  It’s a rare gift.

We all have things that energize us, and prepare us for the day ahead.  Mine is incredibly simple, and yet so hard to come by.  A cup of good coffee, some great music, and some uninterrupted time to think and work. I’ve got two of the three this morning.  When the hell is Dunkin going to open?

Here’s wishing all of us a great day ahead.

 

 Reblog

Day 112 of The 365 Day Experiment. Random Wednesday.

If I had not committed to writing every bloody night for 365 days, I would be snuggled up in my bed right now, trying to pass out early.  While I never think of this self-imposed project as a chore per se, I’d be lying if I didn’t suggest that some days are harder than others to want to hammer out my thoughts before collapsing for the evening.  Tonight is one of those nights.

It was a pretty typical day for one of my “long days.”  I was in the office around 7 am, which meant my alarm went off at 5:30.  I love getting in early because it allows me time to get actual work done before meetings fill the bulk of the day.  On the flip side, it means a morning that I won’t see my kids before they head off to school.  I hate that.  At 6:00 pm, however, my day shifted gears.

One of my best girlfriends, who I am fortunate enough to work with, and I went out after work.  A rare treat for me.  Working in Boston actually allows access to cool bars and places to eat so it’s fun to take advantage of that proximity.  We hit a local place we both love in hopes of burning off a little steam from an already stressful week.  And we had no clue what was in store for us on this random Wednesday night.

We sat down on comfy sofas in the back bar, content to be virtually the first people there.  We weren’t there to be seen - we were there to hang out, catch up, and enjoy each other’s company.  A yummy margarita and a shared quesadilla later, and we realize there is a longer table in our area, suspiciously filling up, one by one, every 10 minutes.  Each new addition to the group is more random and lost than the last.  Not only does this look like the rainbow coalition, but this could also serve as the understudy cast of the Big Bang Theory. 

At this point, any focus on whatever nonsense we were discussing became irrelevant.  It became our mission to find out what the hell was the connection with this most unique grouping of people.  We finally asked our server.  She leaned in and secretly confided “it’s a dating group.  They are all socially awkward and learning tips.”  And the “Hitch” of this group (random reference to Will Smith character he played as a dating coach in a movie by the same name a few years back) was the most unlikely of guys…an overweight, sloppy-dressed dude wearing a baseball hat backwards. We had spotted him earlier attacking chips and salsa like he was a lion taking down an antelope in the Sarenghetti.  If this guy was a lady killer, it is because is beautiful on the inside.  On the surface, however, we marveled at the notion that this guy was in charge of this posse of 10 or so and wondered what he could possibly be teaching them.  We applauded their efforts though.  Good for them for making the attempt to figure out dating, no matter how seemingly bizarre the circumstance.  And then it happened.

Our section had become a little busier as the room filled with this crew, and we were trying hard not to stare.  We entertained ourselves for a while with some humorous text exchanges with a few mutual friends, and then BAM…they walk in.  Two new additions to the group.  While the majority of the original group were men, there were two women already chatting among them.  But in walked what seemed to be a couple.  They were in what could only be described as “costume.”  

The man was a bit older, and very friendly.  Looked normal enough, until his smile displayed he was missing about half his upper deck.  And he made a beeline for the two of us.  No eye contact, no eye contact, no eye contact…f*ck.  ”Hi, I’m Mark.”  I couldn’t even bust out my made up name because I was so caught off guard.  This guy was wearing a pair of white 80’s sunglasses.  The kind with the Levelor blind shade things/vents?  And of course I had to comment on them.  Something simple, like “Wow.”  His explanation was that he and his friend were doing “Hollywood Halloween.”

Okay, first of all, I know I’m going to sound really judgmental.  Forgive me.   But it’s a random Wednesday night.  No one is celebrating Halloween yet.  And what the hell is Hollywood about those sunglasses?  But your friend…now she’s got an outfit.

I’d love to know what goes through your mind when you think, “Ok, I’m heading out to go to a dating class in Back Bay.  Cool bar, Wednesday night, it will be low key there.  I better play it down.  I know what I’ll wear to compliment my guy friend’s odd white Kanye sunglasses…I’m gonna light it up tonight and wear a belly dancing outfit!”

Yep, you read it right.  Girlfriend shows up dressed as a full on belly dancer.  And of course her glasses, to complete the look.  And for fun, every few minutes, she stands up to shake it.  Unfortunately, unlike Shakira, her hips do lie.  I appreciate what she was going for, and she gets major points for bringing sheer chutzpah to the game.  However, “there are no words” is pretty much the nicest thing that can be said between the my friend and I.  Because at this point in the evening, to speak of this would turn us into mean girls, and we don’t want to be them.  But it’s really hard not to be in this situation, because I wanted to pull this woman into the bathroom, shake her and say, “Girlfriend, seriously.  WTF were you thinking?”

I LOVE people.  I love that I can go out on a random Wednesday night, content on just enjoying a friend’s company, and end up being thoroughly entertained unintentionally.  I love that just be being themselves, people are really interesting.  Of course, I really wanted to coach all these people on “Here’s a thought…your ringleader doesn’t look like the greatest role model…I could probably give you 5 minutes of advice that could set you on a better path.”  And yet, who the hell am I to give advice on anything?  They are taking action on their dating lives.  I’m the single chick typing a blog in my bed because I made an insane commitment to myself.  Who really needs some advice here? 

I don’t get to go out often, but when I do, I enjoy it.  Thankfully, I make the most of my time by choosing great people to spend my time with, and fun places where there’s a good chance I’ll see something happen.  If it doesn’t, sometimes the person/people I’m with and I will become that something that happens.   And on this random Wednesday evening, I just had a bunch of laughs with a great friend, and got to see something I likely won’t ever see again.  I hope.  

Day 111 of The 365 Day Experiment. Freeze Frame.

I have been really inspired lately by an old friend who has reinvented her career as a photographer.  She’s incredibly talented, and I’m thrilled to be working with her soon.  

For the first time since my kids were toddlers, I’ve decided to rejoin them on our holiday card this year.  Somehow, I feel like I earned my place back on the card, especially this year.  And yet, the thought of having my picture taken makes me queasy.  So I’m choosing to work with someone I trust and respect.  

I am the one who will dodge the camera when it comes out at parties and social events.  If you look at group photos with me in it, I’m almost always the one with a closed mouth, Mona Lisa grin, among a bunch of big white smiles.  I just legit hate having my picture taken.  And over the past few weeks, I’ve spent a bit of time reflecting on why.

There’s the obvious vain answer.  I hate the way I look in pictures.  There have been a rare few when I’ll grudgingly admit, “hey, that one came out ok.”  Otherwise, the reaction to seeing my image is like listening to myself on a voicemail…”is that what I really look/sound like?!”

However, there is a different, more meaningful reason.  It’s about what the image conveys.   I’ve always viewed photographs as an invasion of privacy.  Kind of like sharing your life and personal thoughts on a blog.  Ironic, right?  Sensing a theme with me?  Since I was a teenager, I have never wanted people to be able to document their history of me.  Photos represented memories of the past to me, which I never found interest or comfort in.  I always preferred to look forward instead.  

As I’ve become a mother, I have softened a bit.  I love photos of my children, and watching movement through life captured through a series of images. I appreciate the sheer art form of photography as well.  I love exploring a fantastic photographer’s artistic interpretation of a subject; human or otherwise.  I am in awe of those gifted with a camera, who are able to capture one image that conveys an entire story.  

The majority of pictures these days I see are those posted through social media.  It is fun to see my old friend’s family photos and vacations and my kids crazy pictures posted to Instagram.  Its a treat to explore other worlds and cultures through my diverse group of friends, understanding how they live and what they celebrate by what they share and post.  

Interestingly, I’ve learned that over the past 111 Days, as I have grown more tolerant of my own ability to become less private and share more, I have been more open to showing up in pictures.  I’ve learned “selfies” were made for me, because I can take a bunch and select one I don’t detest.  Realistically, I’m not 15 and don’t have time to practice smiling for the camera by taking my own picture.  And honestly, I’m not that self-absorbed that I care that much about getting good at it.  

The picture I really care about getting right, however,  is one good one with my daughters and I.  Yes, I’m trusting my friend will capture a good one where we are all smiling and looking decent that we can use for holiday greetings.  But the important one will have me and the girls doing something that displays our bond - because we are in this together. I don’t have an idea of what that looks like yet, nor do I expect it to be overly staged.  Just someday, years down the road when they are gone from this nest, I want to be able to know I have both a visual image to compliment the emotional one etched into my soul for the journey we’ve been on together lately. And I can’t continue to be the jerk who says “don’t take my picture” and not allow that to happen.

So if it takes getting my picture taken only when I’m around people I trust,  then I guess that’s what I’ll do.  But if my budding photographer teenage daughter can take my current favorite of me, I’m betting my professional friend is going to capture something outstanding for us.   

Day 110 of The 365 Day Experiment. Does Beauty Count?

I literally almost hit someone the other day.  Sixteen year old Pakastani girl Malala Yousafzai, who has been garnering much attention as of late for her heroic efforts to raise awareness of women’s rights and education reform after being shot in the head by the Taliban, was getting dissed.  I overheard a women in a checkout line commenting about a picture of Malala in a magazine.  Her statement wasn’t about what a brave soul she was, or even a harsh jab at her Muslim religion.  She remarked about the girl’s looks in a negative way.  As in, if this girl was going to be featured in a People Magazine article, they should have had the decency to “glam her up” like all the other beautiful teens they promote.  I was livid.  

This woman’s gross ignorance and insensitivity aside, it made me stop and pause.  If Malala was a physically stunning teenager, would her message be even more impactful?  I’m not sure.  She seems to be grabbing quite a bit of press attention as it is.  Perhaps being an incredibly articulate girl who survived a bullet and was nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize is enough.  But what about everyone else?

Girls learn at an early age that looking their best increases their chances for a lot of things.  At young ages, we embrace the ritual of wearing makeup in hopes of increasing the perception of our likability and ultimately our attractiveness.  Of course, that’s assuming it’s used to enhance, rather than to overdo.  There’s a fine line between enhancing your features and making yourself look like a “prosti-tot” at that age.  And of course, while no make up is involved, boys have their own societal pressures to get bigger and stronger to compete.  

Whether its getting more attention from a store clerk, or getting served first in a crowded bar, we’ve all seen evidence that beauty pays.  No matter what gender, people tend to want to flock towards good looking people.  Why?  Do we think some of them will rub off on us?  Do we think their looks somehow make them cooler or better people?

They don’t.  In my humble opinion, people born with good looks are given an advantage; but it is a superficial one.  Perhaps they are offered certain opportunities other mere mortals aren’t afforded at first.  But you know who really crushes it in life?  Those who are gorgeous on the inside.  As I have reflected on the most successful people I know, they aren’t the best looking of people.  They are people with brilliant minds, or fantastic hearts.  They are incredible parents or amazing business people - or both.   They haven’t needed to rely on their looks to give them an advantage; their keyed in on all the other things that make them a standout.

Of course, the most incredible combination is if a person happens to have both beauty on the inside and out.  I’ve learned this is a truly unique combination.  I dare say I  know a few people who fit this combination.  I’ll also suggest I know a few people whose insides are so stunning, it makes their external shell that much more appealing than at initial consideration.

Malala Yousafzai may not be considered beautiful in the classical sense of the word, but this girl is absolutely stunning in my book.

Malala’s inspiring interview with Jon Stewart recently:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gjGL6YY6oMs