Life in the Middle Lane

I went browsing at a bookstore today at lunch and ended up (of course) in the Business section. I browsed titles just to see what interesting stuff is out there and I found this book, 50 Best Jobs for Your Personality. I didn’t have time to sit with it, and my hands weren’t very clean because I had just eaten, so I just read through the first page or two.

I thought it would just the Myers Briggs that everyone else uses to determine personality type. On my last Myers Briggs (taken on a bad day at work) I tested as an INFP, I usually test as a borderline INTP or ENTP. I really dislike that test b/c I’m always on the mid-line with everything except the N. Sometimes “they say” its because I handle life maturely, on a situational basis and I can pull from all quadrants, and sometimes “they say” its because I’m not really self-aware, which sucks.

Anyway, none of that mattered because this books used a different personality test. It is called the RIASEC test. This tests 6 characteristics Realist, Investigative, Artistic, Social, Enterprising, and Conventional. I didn’t have the time (or a pen and paper) to take the test in the bookstore so when I got back to my desk, I looked up the test on-line. Here is what I found (very simplified).

• Realistic people like working with machines and animals. This person likes practical vocational work.
• Investigative people see themselves as being problem solvers and intellectuals.
• Artistic people value self-expression, and need to avoid repetitive monotonous work
• Social people enjoy helping others, and are good at giving information. They see themselves as friendly and trustworthy.
• Enterprising people enjoying leading and persuading others, and sees self as energetic and ambitions.
• The conventional person sees himself or herself as orderly, is good with numbers and avoids unstructured activities.

One guess at my top two.

Ok, I’ll tell you my top three, just because the second 2 were so close.

I am Social (14), Investigative (12) Artistic (11) (out of scores of 30)

Basically, I need to work in a job where I have opportunities to think critically, help people, not do the same thing every day. I’m gonna go back to the book store and see what they tell me I should be doing. If they tell me I should be a teacher or a social worker, I’m gonna scream!!!

And just for sh*ts and giggles here are my other scores.

Realistic Factor= 2

Enterprising Factor=9

Conventional Factor=4

I love technology…now, lol. I remember the end of high school when everyone had hotmail (what else was available?) and we treated it like IM. I would all stay online whenever I could and wait for my friends to respond to my emails….I also remember undergrad, discovering chat rooms and Black Planet for the first time. It was the beginning (for me, anyway) of the “you’ve got mail” era and in the dorm I constantly heard the AOL bleep every time someone got a new instant message… as well as the creak of the imaginary door every time one of their friends changed their status. I was hearing that crap in my sleep.

I hated stupid AOL, chat rooms, Black Planet and all the other race-specific sites. Like I’ve said before, I suck at small talk and chat rooms and suck were made for talking about stupid sh*t, and having sex (or pretending to have sex). I hated it, I’d have rather been out talking to real people (but all the real people were in their f-ing dorm rooms chatting on AOL. I barely used AOL, I only forayed into chatrooms only once or twice, and I thought Black Planet was for unattractive losers who were looking to have sex with college girls. On the other hand, I loved search engines; yahoo and msn and whatever others we were using in 1999. I remember me and my college girlfriends stalking boys online, but I don’t remember how ?????

I resisted technology; I thought it was stupid (mainly because I couldn’t understand it) So I came late to 21th Century Internet technology. Other than email, Google search, and Mapquest, I don’t remember using the Internet very much until about 3-4 years ago. Even then, it was still just email, reading news online and yahoo games.

Well, the last year or two has been a learning experience for me. I’ve finally fallen for technology. I am an igoogle bandit…. my homepage is the bomb! It’s crazy how much google has infiltrated everything I do, from email, to academic research, to directions, to bookmarking sites that I love, to giving me cool new blogs to read every day.

Myspace, which I thought was for kids to find sex and drugs, actually turned into the beginning of my creative resurgence and a good way to reconnect with old friends and remind all my current friends of why I’m so cool. Then there’s Facebook, for all the intellectuals that are too good for Myspace, lol.

I’m mostly loyal to myspace, for creative purposes, but Facebook has its highlights, like the fact that I can post news articles that I find inspiring, amusing, disgusting or downright despicable. On Facebook, I can see what books others are reading (yes, nerdy, I know). But it’s fun and I’m finding really interesting people and staying more connected to my friends that have spread to the four corners.

What has made the biggest impact on me in regards to technology is how it has made my world so much smaller (or bigger, whatever). I have blogger “friends” in Canada and Australia. I comment on the lives and stories of others in Madison and Corpus Christi and NYC. How cool is that? I’m learning about what’s happening in different career fields, and I’m seriously, actively thinking of ways to start that non-profit or consulting firm. I’m learning how to save money, I’m learning to take risks and how to stay focused at work. I get tips on losing weight and eating more healthily. I’m getting encouragement from people who have been where I am (emotionally and mentally), people who have had my fears, fought through them, survived and lived to kick my ass out of my comfort zone.

AND through the use of technology, I have embraced my creativity. 2 years ago I would NEVER have called myself creative. I’m rational and logical; I work in GOVERNMENT, for goodness sakes! I’m not at all artistic and colorful so I couldn’t possibly be creative. (My own unfortunate stereotypes) I’ve learned that creativity comes in many different packages and even though I paint like a 5 year old, my ability to think out of the box and come up with cool ideas and solve problems still counts as creativity. (And I don’t suck too badly as a writer , and that counts too!)

And all this from the person who didn’t own her own computer until last year…. and had to ask my 16 year old sister for Myspace tips. Ya’ll just wait until I get this all figured out

I had lunch outside today and there were about 8 ba-gillion mothers and/or nannies out there with their babies. In the midst of all the crying children I overheard two ladies talking about how a friend of their kid’s was getting picked on at school because his parents were gay. I don’t know if the kid lives with his two mom or two dads, but he didn’t want to go to school because the other kids made fun of him.

One mother told the other how she explained to her son why he shouldn’t make fun of the kid with gay parents (KWGP) and, furthermore, why he should stand up for his friend. I thought this was super admirable of her and I kept listening.

She reminded him that he had black friends and that black people couldn’t change their skin. She told him that he doesn’t make fun of them because their skin was different. In her mind, the logic followed that you shouldn’t make fun of the KWGP because his family is different and because he couldn’t change his parents. Huh? Should the KWGP want to change his parents? Should I want to change my skin?

She also gave the example about people having different religions and how it is ok that people believe differently and should be accepted anyway. (Much better, mama)

As a black person and as a non-heterosexual, I thought about her comments and analyzed their usefulness.

At face value, I thought it was hilarious and infuriating that she compared changing skin color to changing your parents (both, which I’m sure lots of kids have wanted to do) I never wanted to be white, I just wanted longer, prettier hair. Anyway, wouldn’t it have been better to say, there are different kinds of people. People have different kinds of families. Some families have parents and kids, some families have grandparents, and some families have step-parents and step-kids, and some families have two moms or two dads and all these kinds of family are ok. Her logic total ignored the whole gay thing and it highlighted our differences instead of our similarities. (we all have families vs. we all have different skin)

The more I thought about it, I was just glad that she is trying to teach her kid about diversity and accepting people in spite of/because of their differences. I guess her explanation is better than saying “picking on people is bad and shouldn’t be done” (just because). That kid will (hopefully) be able to enter a room full of different kinds of people and be ok, because his momma said that people can’t change what they look like and who they live with and we have to be nice to them anyways.

What she was trying to teach was very, very important. She tried to convey that what a person looks like or how they live or how they believe (even if it is different from you) doesn’t make them any less worthy of respect, love and friendship. She explained it to her 8 year old and he got it. So…how do you make adults understand it?

End of the second day working for the City…. and I’m dead tired.

Seriously, I have to get used to getting up early again after working half days last week in my old internship. During grad school, I didn’t have to get up until 7 or 7:15 to be at school by 8:45 and now I have to get up at 6:15 to 6:30 to be at work before 9.

Additionally, it takes 45 minutes for me to travel from where I’m staying in Smyrna to where I work. I’m driving in heavy Atlanta traffic, with the sun directly in my eyes. My transition glasses don’t work in my car, so I’m squinting and irritated. By the time I get to work, I’m sleepy again. Luckily, my co-workers are wonderful and they wake me up.

Thirdly, my first day at work lasted 13 hours. Yes, from 9 am to 10 pm, it was damn near 11 by the time I got home and close to midnight before my head hit the pillow. Then I had to get up and do it all again today. :-/ So, yeah I’m tired and I should probably go to bed now….

And I will, but first let me tell you what I’ve learned so far during my super summer internship.

1. I don’t want to be a County/City Manager. If I become a CEO of a local government, I can kiss my life good-bye, and I don’t want to do that now. Maybe when I’m old and don’t have anything better to do with my time I’ll change my mind, but I doubt it. Being a manager is a hard, largely thankless job. As a manager, you deal with all the crap, not just the fun parts, and I’m really only interested in the fun parts.
2. Speaking of the fun parts, they consist of downtown revitalization, urban development, affordable housing and general real estate, and creative solution to solve social problems. I love community development!!! Who knew?
3. I think I’d be best working as a department head or a consultant working for local governments. I would get to know all the people that City/County managers know, without having to deal with all the stuff that makes my head hurt and bores me to tears.
4. I am not a morning person. Mornings give me a headache. I need a job where I make my own hours and no one is expecting me to show up before 10am.
5. I love Decatur. I am drawn to progressive cities like a moth to a flame. I heard a presentation last night that said that residents of the city where I am working are smarter and wealthier than the rest of Metro Atlanta and most of the nation. Sound familiar? Just like Chapel Hill, Madison Wisconsin and several other places at the top of my “have to live there” list.
6. I really need to work on my small talk skills. Even when I try to keep conversation light, I generally fail miserably, and I don’t introduce myself well. Any suggestions?

I really like my internship. Everyone has been so helpful and nice to me. I’ve gotten some good leads on possible projects that could turn into capstones. Good Times!

Work has been so busy I haven’t had any time to do anything fun, hoping to fix that over the weekend…. and hopefully have pictures! Oh, and I’m trying public transportation tomorrow, so I’ll have time to read

So my summer move to Atlanta got off to a brilliant start. Friday started off like every other day last week. I woke up about 8:30 am, and shortly thereafter I started moving stuff. This time, however, moved my stuff from my brand-new less than week old apartment to my car. Because … Friday was moving day!!! (again, lol)

I packed up all my stuff in my car and went to my last day at work. I stayed at Orange County for an extra week, mostly because I wanted to attend my co-worker’s baby shower. Besides the baby shower, Friday was a big day for me at work. I had to finish the last two projects that I’ve been working on for the past month or so that I have been procrastinating finishing for the past two weeks, but that is a different story.

It was important for me to stay for the baby shower because my co-worker is the most beautiful pregnant woman I have ever seen, I wanted to spend that time with her. And I enjoyed the shower, I learned about how to care for a newly circumcised baby penis. (I know, I was a little distraught, too)

My plan was to stay for a bit of the shower, and be on the road to Atlanta by 3:30pm. Instead, I stayed at work until 5, playing at the baby shower and talking to my co-workers (whom I’m gonna miss like crazy)

Anyway, of course right before it was time to leave work, it starts to rain. I get in my car to go to my mom’s house, and almost there, the truck in front of me stops and when I try to stop, my stupid heavy over-full car slides right into the back of the damn pick-up in front of me. No worries, I’m fine. But I’ve ruined my car and I couldn’t get a rental until Saturday (boo!).

But today I am in Atlanta. I have unpacked my suitcases and I have to be at work at 9am tomorrow. And I will probably be at work until 10pm. Yes, work from 9-5, 5:30 dinner meeting, 6:30 work session and 7:30 Budget presentation. I know, right. Trial by fire, bitches!!!!!

I’ll let you know how it goes. Ta-ta

I’m a little sad today. North Carolinians (myself included) finally had a chance to vote in our late as hell election on Tuesday. At first I wasn’t excited about voting, and I had no plans to work the polls, which I always do in the general election in November.

That is, until I got a phone call from my favorite precinct worker asking me to work with her. I love her and we have worked the polls together in the cold and rain, so it was a no brainer to work with her; especially since it’s May, warm and sunny.

Also this is my little sister’s first election and she has been so excited about the process and so motivated by the candidates. She asked me to go with her to help her pick candidates, which made me feel all warm and fuzzy since I have been dragging her to political events for the majority of her life

So, anyway, my excitement grew over the last week. I finally picked my candidates, and arranged to take a half a day from work so that I could volunteer. May 6^th I voted and I helped so many other people make a more informed decision and exercise their civic duty.

And today, May 9^th, I got around to seeing who actually won. And I am a bit disappointed. One of my candidates won (but that was inevitable). In the most important state-wide races, change did not occur in North Carolina. Granted, I am in the Bible Belt Former Confederate South and I shouldn’t be surprised that politics as usual will continue to play out here. But I was hoping that all that “change” that is supposed to be in the air would have at least touched down here. Not so much, however.

And I’m disappointed, for myself and for my sister, who really didn’t need my help… she knew most of the candidates that she wanted to vote for and they matched mine to the tee. (I am the best big sister ever and I have indoctrinated her, politically, since her birth.)

She was so excited about getting to vote for the first time, and what do I tell her now? Now that she can see that our votes didn’t get our people elected. I, of course, will continue to tell her to vote, but it definitely gets harder when it doesn’t seem to make a difference.

So today, I’m left asking; who the hell did all those Obama supporters vote for in the other races? They certainly didn’t vote for change.

So many people have asked me over the past few weeks, “How did you get an internship all the way in Atlanta from North Carolina?”

After answering the same questions about 10 times, I have consolidated my response. I hustled and I networked! I knew where I wanted to be and I knew that I only had myself to depend on to get me there.

I thought about all the new things I could learn in Atlanta. I love Orange County, but I knew I wanted a different kind of experience. I made a list of all the things that I’m interested in and that would make an interesting topic for my capstone paper.

I am interested in learning everything so my list is long. It ranged from regional government, land use and transportation planning (traffic is horrendous in ATL), public transportation, non-profit development and management, economic development, public private partnerships, consulting firms, etc.

I did way too much research on different agencies and organizations in the Atlanta area. I Google-bookmarked over 50 agency websites- that I obsessed about everyday. I sent letters of interest, I got my career person at school to send job fair invitations to people, and I sent email inquiries. I did everything I could to get a job.

And I got nothing. But here is the interesting part. I started telling everyone I knew that I wanted to be in Atlanta this summer. I told my classmates, I told program alums, I told my professors, I told people I met in hallways. It became a standard part of my introduction: Hi, I’m Monica; I’m a first-year MPA student. I am interested in Economic Development, Social Justice, Regional governance, and Downtown Redevelopment. I want to be rich and famous. Most importantly, I am interested in interning in Atlanta this summer.

It was amazing the response I got. Professors and alums immediately started talking to me about the people they knew in Atlanta and people I should call. And it worked; I met great people, made some great contacts, and got myself an internship. And if I decide to move to Atlanta after graduation, I’ve already started building my network.

And all those useless emails and letters that I sent before? Not a waste at all because I’ll start meeting those people, too and I can revisit them for jobs later.

Honestly, I hate networking. It feels like begging. But it works and I’m starting to get good at it. So what does that say about me?

However, slowly and surely I’m beginning to understand that the world is such an easier place to move in if I have my peeps working for me. Life is truly all about WHO you know. And if I know some people and you know some people and then you and I network, at the end of the day we leave with twice the resources. Which rocks!!!

I’m learning that I’m not using a person if I network with them. Most people like to be helpful. I love when I can help someone make a useful contact. So it’s a win/win, right?

By the way, I’m Monica and I’m looking for friends and fun stuff to do in Atlanta. Any ideas?

Ok, so I suck. Really, really bad. And thank you to my readers (all 5 of you, lol) for putting me very firmly in my place. This is why I love you and we can all be friends. My life is not horrible. My life, on any day other than moving day, is quite lovely. And here’s why:

· I have the bestest friends imaginable that get me into all kinds of trouble , and have no problem telling when I’m being severely stupid (I love you, Molly and Christy!!!!!)

· These wonderful friends also remind me that, yes I am a super cool chick! I sometimes forget about that (Yay for Rachel and Sarai!)

· I have a girlfriend that cares enough about me that she worries when I get so dark and down on myself. I love her for that. And she pushes me to be the best Monica ever.

· I am in a wonderful graduate program that is like 4^th in the nation for local government management (still am shocked that they let me in, lol)

· My program is chock full of characters that make my day every day in some way. Like when they send me text messages that say not to come to class because is would be a waste of my time feed me steak and give me a place to sleep when I’ve had too much to drink.

· I can afford to still put gas in my car, hell, I can afford my car and it runs well

· I can still exercise, even if I can’t find a brace that actually fits my knee properly

· I haven’t missed a meal because I didn’t have any food

· I haven’t ruined my life because of some stupid, stupid mistake.

And last night, as I crawled into bed and pulled out my prayer journal that the above mentioned awesome girlfriend purchased for me, I felt bad for feeling bad about my life.

I had to apologize to God for questioning my place in the world. I’m in a great place, a wonderful place that I prayed day and night for.

I wanted to be at Carolina, I wanted a job that was fulfilling, I needed a better boss, I wanted to live on my own, I wanted friends that love and respect me, and I wanted to be in a relationship that was a truer reflection of me. I have all those things and soo much more. And for that I am truly, inexplicably grateful.

I thank God for all of you.

(and I will limit the dark blogs from now on)

I started packing up my life (i.e my apartment) yesterday. I’ve been putting if off for weeks now. I knew the end of my lease was coming, and I’ve known for a long time that 1). I was spending the summer in Atlanta 2). I was gonna move from my 2 bedroom into something else 3). I have a LOT of stuff.

Knowing all those things should have propelled me to get started on the packing all my sh*t up a lot sooner than 10 days before the move. But I am a procrastinator by nature and I really thought that something miraculous would happen so that I wouldn’t have to do the actual packing and sorting and throwing away.

Which brings me to why moving makes me sad. Moving forces me reflect on my life. It is once of the few (maybe the only) time I actually allow myself to think about what I’ve done over the year (I say a year b/c I tend to move once yearly) and if I’m any closer to doing whatever it is that I really want to do. For some super successful people, moving day would equal happy day and they would celebrate their progress. Unfortunately, I am not a super successful person, and moving day isn’t so much happy for me.

Packing only shows me all the things that I’ve been really excited about, spent money on, carted around, and promptly forgotten about. I have years (yes, years!!) worth of Self, Shape, Vogue, Glamour, Health magazines… and I don’t think I’m any more healthy or beautiful or fit because of them.

I found no less than 8, count ‘em-8!! books on how to pass the LSAT, as well as, the 116 Best Law Schools, So you want to be a lawyer?, at least 4 unfinished applications to law school, various catalogs for various law and public policy schools around the country. And I’m not in f-ing LAW SCHOOL!!!!!

I found a whole folder full of all the houses/condos/townhouses that I spent at least 6 months of my life meticulously poring over before I found the perfect one, had a panic attack, cried like a baby and chickened out of purchasing, assorted anatomy study guides for my aerobics instructor exam, as well has at least 50 books that I have purchased or stolen from friends that I have every intention to read but never got around to….. sigh. All the things that make me, while not quite a failure… definitely not a success.

So I think this is why I’m sad. Moving reminds me of all the things I was supposed to do, all the goals and dreams that I’ve put on hold, all the things that I don’t have time for and all the fun and/or interesting things that I’ve tried, but that for whatever reason just didn’t stick.

I want to believe that this is why I’m sad. But it could also be that as a small child we moved around a lot and since I didn’t own anything I liked it. Moving frequently works well with my short attention span and wander personality.

When we settled in Orange County, all I wanted was to live somewhere else. sadly, the one thing that made it happen was my parents’ divorce. We moving and it was simultaneously the best and the worst. College came shortly after and I moved out of my mother’s house and into a dorm room. Over 4 years of college I moved into and out of 3 more dorm rooms.

Every year I was sad. Sad that I was leaving, sad that everyone else was leaving, sad that things were changing, probably sad that I was going home and not going to some ultra fabulous locale where my life would finally start. After college, I lived with one of my cooler friends and life would have been grand if I have loved or even semi liked my job- which I didn’t. Which made my whole life suck.

After that experiment, I went home, back to my mother’s house. Where the wonderful job came, and I was supposed to be getting my life together and preparing to live on my own. Instead I lived in my old room, with all the crap that I have been collecting my entire life for 3 years! Fast forward to 2007, I’m grad school-bound, and some pivotal things have transpired to push me into semi-adulthood and alas, into my own apartment. Where life has been, mostly grand, with some really high points and a few not so high points thrown in as Life tends to do. And mostly I’ve felt really put together and on the right path, sort of.

Which brings me back to the freaking beginning. I think I’m still waiting for my life to begin. And I’m waiting for all the crap that I’ve been collecting, the plans, the self-help bullsh*t, all the unread books, all my failed attempts to journal to finally pay off. For once I’d like to move and not feel this overwhelming sense of loss and disappointment.

I’d like not to feel like I almost got it right, that I’m almost there, that if I push just a little harder that my f-ing life will finally begin and I’ll finally know what the hell I’m supposed to be doing. But until then, I continue to pack up all my shit and just feel sad about the whole damn thing.