Life in the Middle Lane

Rebecca, brilliant chick that she is, has asked for participation in a Goal Meet-Up project.  Since I was planning on posting about my new goals anyway, I’m gladly joining her experiment.

Wanna hear it? Here it go!

So I’ve moved all my stuff and have been living with the GF since the end of June.  At first, I had a hellacious transition period because I moved with to Atlanta with no job and all my job leads were in California.  Initially, my plan was to keep looking for permanent employment in Cali, and get something short term (waiting tables) in the meantime.

Well, sometimes life has other plans. After just a few short weeks of looking, I landed a great job in Atlanta.  Of course, while I was job searching and mooching off the GF, my only two priorities were 1. Find a job so that I could be a contributing member of the household 2. Don’t drive the GF bonkers.

Once I got the job all squared away, and I started believing the GF when she said she wasn’t going to kick me out, I started to relax and think about life in the A. Since I’m going to be in Atlanta, I don’t want to be miserable.  I needed to get a life (and the GF strongly agreed).

So, in typical Monica-style I made myself a list, a “How to get a life” list if you will, of goals and stuck them on the vision board.  They are in order of importance and the go a little something like this:

Five things I need to work on

1. Meeting new people and Making friends
2. Getting my bills settled
3. Learning my new environment
4. Building my brand
5. Being a better friend, partner and family member

What I’ve done so far:

1. I have joined several meet-up groups and have gone to one of the events.  I have also joined a book club, and I foresee a lot of involvement there.  I have contacted a few local branches of my sorority, in hopes of becoming more active there.
2. I have created a budget and a mint.com account (thanks, Jenny Blake). I’ve called all my creditors about why I didn’t pay them all summer, and I’ve set up payment plans to get me back on track.
3. This is supposed to me be exploring Atlanta neighborhoods by myself without the GF’s GPS, but some Atlanta neighborhoods are scary and I shouldn’t be in them by myself. I’m tabling this til next month.
4. 4. I have had one meeting with a guy that could potentially build my website, but he’s not used to wordpress and I want to keep a wordpress framework, so it probably won’t work between us.  Anyone know any good (inexpensive) web designers?
5. 5. This will be an on-going goal.   My sister lives in Atlanta and I want to make sure I spend time with her. My mom gets lonely back home, and I need to keep good communication with her.  My brother, bless his heart, has finally joined the 21^st century and has email, so I want to write to him more often.  I want to keep in contact with my NC peeps, ‘cause I love and miss them. And I need to more honestly communicate in my relationship with the GF.  I can check that I have been doing all these things in August.

Next Month

1. Calling and/or emailing my friends in NC at least once a week. I’ve gotten out of touch with my MPA family
2. Watch how much money I spend at the grocery store. (I tend to go a bit overboard.)
3. I need to (a.) join (b.) go to (5x wkly) a gym; working out outside isn’t working for me.
4. Call my mom and sister twice a week, send my brother one email a week.  Send text messages to friends when I think of them.
5. Build a marketing campaign for Cosmopolitan Urbanist (and find a web designer)
6. Attend more meet-up events
7. Contact local commercial developers.
8. Show my emotions.
9. I think I’ve found the organization that I’d like to work with next, so now I have to bring myself to their attention. I’m going to attend their September board meeting, and say something useful while I’m there.
10. (Carried over from last month) Get a map of the interior of I-285 and explore different Atlanta neighborhoods, by car.

Wow. This is a lot of goals.  But since they are (mostly) things I was going to do anyway, I think I’m ok.

I’ve been in Atlanta for almost two months now, and I’ve settled into my life with the GF and I’ve gotten a job. Next on my list of things to do is to make myself some friends. So like any good Gen Y quasi-computer geek, I went straight to Meetup and twitter. And while twitter hasn’t been really fruitful (too much spam) Meet up has been amazing.

There are meetup groups for anything you want to do. Me, I’ve joined a couple of arts/film/food lovers groups, a couple of writing groups and a couple of book clubs. So far, my I haven’t been able to attend many of the activities. All the activities tend to happen at the same time that I have something else going on!!!

A few weeks ago, I went to one book club meeting, and I wasn’t impressed. I spent a week quickly reading the book club selection, and not really liking the book. I almost chickened out of going to the meeting (I’m shy and not that into meeting new people). I talked myself into going, only to be pretty disappointed. I ended up leaving the meeting sad and depressed. I didn’t feel a connection to any of the the other members, and there wasn’t anything about that meeting to convince me to return.

Today was different, I attending a Women of Worth book club meeting. It was, in two words, hilariously awesome. It was my kind of book club; we read poems and drank vodka and laughed our asses off. It was so much fun.

When I got home, the GF asked me if I felt silly for getting all bend out of shape over the first failed meeting up. I didn’t actually answer her, but yep. I feel a little silly.

So I’ve been thinking (for ages) about writing this post, but something else always trumped it. So today is the day! Because,…well, I just want to give the relationship series a break for a little while.

I believe in people. I believe that it is people (not policies or businesses or markets, or any other inorganic, non-breathing thing) that make the world go ‘round. I believe this so much that, right now, as I look for my dream job I’m not hella keen to fill out a bunch of job applications. I just don’t think my life works that way.

Let me back up and explain.

Last year, I really wanted (not wanted, needed desperately) to spend the summer in Atlanta. Unfortunately, I’ve lived and build my network in North Carolina, so the idea of trying to find an internship in another state gave me heart palpitations. I didn’t know what I was going to do.

I mean, I could have d*amn near picked from a stack of NC internships (yes, the girl is THAT good) but no one KNOWS me in Atlanta, and worse, I DIDN”T KNOW ANYBODY. And I knew that I would be competing with students from Ga schools who would also be in the market for summer professional work experience. (which also increased my anxiety level)

For weeks, I spend tons of fruitless hours looking for internships; cold calling, cold emailing, I did online internship searches, I was on listserves… you name it, I did it. All the while, I felt a clock ticking telling me time was running out. (Granted it was freaking October, but I had a mission, remember?)

Wanna know how I got my internship?

One person who knew me =>  knew two people who worked in Atlanta => who got me two interviews => which got me my internship.

I was at a student/faculty meet and greet where I introduced myself as, “Monica, a first year grad student who wants to intern in Atlanta for the summer.” One of the professors said, I used to work in Atlanta, send me your resume and I’ll see what I can do.

Summer internship? Check!

Before I left for Atlanta, I was already thinking ahead to where I wanted to work when I came back to NC for school.  I happened to be at an event with the Executive Director of the Chamber of Commerce (where I knew I wanted to work). I approached him, reminded him of who I am (he remembered) and I asked him for a job.

I told him that I was going to be away for the summer, but that I would love to do a phone interview to talk about the arrangement. A business card, a month, and one phone interview later, I already knew where I was going to be working when I left Atlanta (and I hadn’t even gotten to Atlanta, yet!)

Year-long internship? Check!

This summer, the day that I was moving to Atlanta, I was in a car accident. Allegedly, the accident was my fault and I got a traffic ticket. The terms of the ticket were that A.) I could just pay it (NOT.GONNA.HAPPEN!) B.) I could get a lawyer to appear in court (NOT! That costs $$$, which I didn’t have) or C. I could appear in court.

By the way, I always appear in court and defend myself.  I think of it as practice for when I’m an attorney.

The problem with me appearing in court in North Carolina was that I was going to be living 6 hours away, and my court date was a Wednesday. So, I would have to miss some work time (and $$$) to drive, appear in court, and drive right back. (And gas prices were NO JOKE).  I knew there was no way that I was going to make that court date.

So I did what anyone would have done. I called the court to see if I could get the court date moved.  No luck. The lady told me some story claiming that I had to appear in person to change my court date. I tried to explain that I was a student who was out of the state, and I couldn’t appear in person to change the date anymore than I could actually appear on the date they gave me.  She didn’t get it.

There was an hour or two when I was frustrated and almost willing to just say “f*ck it! I just won’t show up, since they are making it so difficult to play by the rules”. BTW, that would have triggered a warrant for my arrest, which would have been unfortunate.

Then I remembered my ace.

I once interned in the Clerk of Court office, and later I’d interviewed for a job there. So I emailed the guy that I’d interviewed with (like three and a half years prior), reminded him of who I was (he remembered), told him my situation, and asked what he could do.

Less than an hour later, I had a new court date.

This is the story of my life.

I could go on and on. At least 4 other jobs/internship that I’ve had over the years I’ve gotten because I knew someone who knew someone who got me in front of someone who could get me a job.

I can also tell you of at least one job that I was the runner-up on (also got that interview because I knew someone who knew someone). Guess who got the job? Someone they already knew.

This is the power of people. This is why I network my @ss off. This is why I collect business cards, shake hands and kiss babies.

The people you meet and the people you know totally make a difference.

This is why, during this new job search, I roll my eyes every time I fill out an application. I don’t think I’m going to get my dream job from filling out applications. I totally believe that I’m going to get my dream job by telling my network, “Hey, everyone! I’m looking for my dream job in the San Francisco Bay area.  You know anybody out there? Can you help a sista out?

Then I’m just going so sit back and wait for the goodness to happen. It NEVER fails.

And I’m not playing. Do YOU know anybody in the Bay area? Hit me up. I’m looking for a job.

I’ve been looking for my passion.  I’ve been looking for it for a long time.  I, like a lot of 20-somethings around me have been spending our young adulthood trying to figure out what the hell we are supposed to do, or figuring out how to get from a place of “I know what I want to do” to a place of “I’m doing what I’m supposed to do”.

 I’m still in the “Hell if I know, but I’m working on it” category.  But I think a lot about it. 

Tuesday mornings are the time that I work on my Master’s Thesis, and right now I’m reading for my literature review.  Today I picked up Richard Florida’s Cities and the Creative Class.  (In my thesis, I have to prove that cities are important- and that the best cities are the cool cities. I KNOW, viscerally, that this is true. I just have to prove that the eggheads agree with me)

 In the introduction of the book, Florida talks about his background, his childhood, his experiences, and how they shaped his future research and the catalog of books he’s written. He talked about how visiting his father’s factory job influenced him to be interested in technological advancement and how the closing of that plant caused him to be interested in economic growth.

 I had only read a few pages at that point but I had to stop and think.  What, if anything, in my childhood, has shaped my interests, research, and just maybe, my passions?

 I’ve been thinking about this, in one way or another, since this summer.  My friend, L , and I would spend hours at work talking about MPA classes and what each of us has learned at school, our work styles (she’s into details, and I’m into the big picture) , and how these things could be merged into a career somehow. The conversations would, invariably, return to the things that we enjoyed as a child and wouldn’t it be cool if we could do that for a living?

 Our conclusion surprised the both of us, and I would often leave the conversation trying to figure out how the hell we’ve ended up where we are. Neither of us are your average government bureaucrats.

She’s an interior designer at heart- and truly, the girl designed everything. She is the posterchild for form meeting function. She’s so good at it. 

As for me, I’ve recently rediscoved writing. Apparently, I have been writing for as long as I remember. My sister, while she was cleaning my old room this summer, found chapters of a book I started to write in middle school. She found stacks of poems and journals. The little bi-atch read my old diaries-with my mother, no less.  Then they called to laugh at me, and read me passages. (gotta love my family)

Additionally, or maybe most importantly,  I have been OBSESSED with houses and neighborhoods and architecture for forever.  

 For a while, I too wanted to be an interior designer. But I knew that every house would reeflect my style and not the style of the client. (I knew that was bad)  I want every house to feel like home (my home, lol).  

I remember, during church, I would find myself drawing log cabins (how many windows should be on the front?) and designing streets (I hate cul de sacs), neighborhoods (lots of people should live together) and whole cities (I love skylines) . But they were just silly doodles, right? They didn’t mean anything, right?

 Silly, silly me. 

My experiences

We moved around a lot as a kid, and some of the places we lived were great for a young girl obsessed with living spaces.  Once we lived in Raleigh for a few months, and we have a 3 story townhouse. It was beautiful.  It has winding staircases, cathedral ceilings, a finished basement with arcade games, a huge patio, bedrooms for everyone, and lots of stuff that I can’t remember, but that I loved.

 And once we lived in Georgia, and we had an awesome neighborhood.  There were always lots of people outside, kids everywhere, and everyone was so friendly.  I still remember what our phone number was.  I was 3-4 and my mother made me memorize it. 

For the majority of my childhood, I lived in a not-so great house, with no neighbors (other than family) and no neighborhood to speak of.  I remember wanting, so badly to live somewhere nicer. I wanted to live somewhere not covered in dirt or kudzu. I mean, we lived in the COUNTRY. And I wanted out. I wanted to love someplace shiny, clean.  I wanted to live near the bright lights.

 I thought I wanted to live in the city, dammit.

 (As an aside, I lived in the city this summer.  If Atlanta is representative of American’s cities, I don’t want to live there either. )

 In high school, my favorite class was Civics.  I spend most of the year in class watching the Democratic primary (featuring a charming southern governor) and learning the purpose and functions of government. Government seemed like the perfect place for someone who wanted to make stuff happen. (someone like, ahem, me)

 My senior year, I fell into my first local government job. A friend of mine had the job, she was going to college, and she recommended that the agency hire me to take her place.  Since then, minus hell year that I spend in 1^st grade, I have always worked in local government.

 In college, I lived in Winston Salem. Part of the draw for Winston was that I thought it was a bigger, brighter city than Chapel Hill.  I was pissed off and confused because they lured me in with their skyline (it still makes me smile) and then I got downtown and it was not the mecca that I expected.  Instead it alternated between being a complete ghost town and a place most likely to get a. shot b. drugged c. raped d. hit on by a transvestite.

 Now, in any new place I visit, I always want to see the neighborhoods. Where do people actually live? Where do they play?  I’m inexplicably drawn to the lights of downtown. For years,  I have explored where and how other people live. I want to see the housing styles and the feel of the neighborhood. I am a huge fan of the Parade of Homes.

So, does ANY of this have to do me with finding my passion?

 Just a little bit.

 Housing. Neighborhoods. Cities. Writing. These are the things that I care about. These are the things that I have always cared about- even when I didn’t realize it.

 Here I sit, in graduate school, thinking that I should study budgeting, finance, planning and land use.  But instead, I am still obsessed with housing, neighborhoods, and cities.

 My personal dramas and experiences have definitively shaped my most priced intellectual thoughts. I can’t tell you how proud I am of the writing I’ve done this semester, regardless of  how rushed or stressed I felt while doing it. The classes that I am taking this and next semester make me so happy.  They are the reason that I came to graduate school.

 I am finally in a position to bring to fruition all the things that I wanted as a child/teen/young adult but didn’t quite know how/what to do.

 Yes, I want to take over the world. Yes, I want to be a Queen, Ruler of the Universe. And yes, I think about how accomplish these things, daily. (no, seriously, I do)

 Most importantly, however,  I really want to make the world a better place for all of us to live, work, and play.

I’m tired of having a period. I swear, I’d sell both my ovaries and all my eggs for $50,000. I’ve eaten so many advil (and other stronger painkillers) over the past 24 hours that I’m sure my liver is MAD at me. If I could go back to the Garden of Eden, I’d whup Eve’s ass myself.

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I was never bitten by the Obama bug, the only reason I voted for him in the primary was because I was angry and disappointed in the way Hillary continued to run her campaign. And honestly, I identified more with John Edwards’ politics than Hill or Obama. So when I hear interviews on the radio like I did yesterday where the interviewer is an obvious Obama dickrider I get really annoyed because I know that nothing substantive is going to come out of the interview.

Or today, when the same radio station had three candidates (one incumbent and two newcomers) talking about what they would do in Congress and it’s clear that the newcomers are completely clueless idiots that are talking bullshit and are backing policies that A. Won’t get passed; B. Wouldn’t work anyway; C. Makes them look stupid. It starts my day on the wrong foot because I end up with a headache from yelling at the radio.

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On the Marta train yesterday we were packed in like sardines. And I had to stand up on a lurching train for about 20 minutes. Another person that was also standing yelled to the crowd that this wouldn’t happen on the North South train and that the only way that things would get better is if we call MARTA and complain.

Part of me wants to agree, surely we can change things through our voices, but part of me knows that as crappy as the East-West trains are, I can’t afford to drive to work everyday. I bought gas today at $4.03 a gallon and my heart broke a little. So regardless of the quality of the train, I really don’t have any other transportation options. And many of the people who are riding the MARTA are in worse financial condition than I am. I wonder how many complaints MARTA got last night.

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I still have a month to go in my internship, but I’m already thinking about what I’m going to do for work when I get back. I have some feelers out, and I already have one offer on the table. I want make the best decision, but I don’t know what that means! Doc Barnes would tell me to stop worrying and just make a decision. And this book I’m reading Blink, says that thinking a problem to death does not increase your chances of making a better decision. *sigh*