Saturday, December 22, 2018

My Family Christmas Card

I know, I know - you wanted dome postcard sent to you. Next year. I wasn't on top of it this year.

For as long as I can remember, my parents have sent a Christmas letter. It's full of career updates, marriages, birth announcements. They have five kids, after all, so something is always going on. My dad does a great job of sharing updates without being fake, and he always shares some Christmas message at the end. This year, the Christmas card was a sweet picture of Mom and Dad with their seven grandchildren, but I missed the family update, because our family is doing so much.

Julie and Jeromy had their first baby this year. It was a hard, heart breaking journey, but they persevered, grew stronger together, grew stronger in their faith, and were blessed with a little angel, Eloise Joy. Eloise means warrior, and she is their warrior of joy, a perfect marriage of their personalities. At ten months, she has the social acumen of Julie, and the curiosity of Jeromy. Julie is exploring new career opportunities while enjoying motherhood, and Jeromy is thriving in his role, but, more exciting (for us at least), is in the process of obtaining his green card.

Gail and Mitch continue to push their boundaries, raising four strong children while building an ice cream empire. Mitch was honored as a high school football coach, which is much deserved, because every day, he helps form strong young mean. Together, Gail and he extend the boundaries of an ice cream shop, creating an atmosphere where community is built. The impact is beyond satisfied indulgences, evidenced by the fact that they won the best ice cream in Cleveland for the second year. Their passion and drive extends to their children, whether it's Caleb coming into his own as a quarterback or Bri pushing herself to be one of the top swimmers in the state. And the younger ones, they're so fun to see grow.

Lydia and Will are enjoying Columbus, though they miss the Redding Terminal donuts in Philadelphia. They started their own ice cream truck business this year, and it has made them stronger as a family. They are learning one another's strengths and positively impacting their community. Mabel is growing into a beautiful young lady who loves to hunt with her father and read with her mother. And Ida is a charismatic firecracker who shares her mother's flair for the dramatic. It's funny how siblings can have such different personalities, and yet, I understand that, because there are five of us, and we are all so different.

Philip and Courtny continue to make one another laugh. They have had a couple amazing trips together this year which are documented in creative wonder via lip syncing and talented photography. Currently, they are working in reporting and marketing in Virginia, and they are both navigating their next steps in life together. While that path is not exactly clear yet, we know they will do great things.

As for Anna, she's doing alright. She graduated with her MBA in May, and she started her role at Amazon in July - folks, if you are in in the market for a chassis, search Amazon! They have it. She is conflicted when Michigan and Ohio State play one another, so we have considered cutting her out of the family update; thankfully, we are gracious. She is enjoying Seattle, and she is so grateful for the opportunity to build new friendships and strengthen those of the past. While she deeply misses being near family, she is blown away by the number of close relationships she has with people she has known for a relatively short amount of time. For that matter, she's blown away by the people she has met throughout her adult life that continue to walk with her through celebrations, through heartbreak, through good and hard times, and who have taught her that life is this beautiful little story with an unpredictable end and who have offered practical advice that helps her along the way. More than that, she's grateful for the people who make her feel like family, because that's the most important thing to her.

Mom and Dad are doing well. Dad coached his grandson's baseball team, and the players vastly improved. Mom continued to stand by each of her children and give her heart to those around her. They also helped their daughter navigate another move to a different, and without them, she would have been lost.

This year's been a hard one for the family - one for the books. Yet, it's proven many things we knew all along. We are strong. We decide to love and stand by one when another, even when it's difficult. We communicate and work through our struggles. And at the end of the day, we will always be family, and nothing compares to that bond. And we all love to laugh.

I love Christmas carols, because when you really listen to the lyrics, they're powerful. I don't know if it qualifies as a carol, but Come Thou Fount is on Sufjan Stevens Christmas album, so that's close enough. The final verse reads: "O to grace how great a debtor, daily I'm constrained to be. Let that goodness like a fetter, bind my wandering heart to thee. Prone to wander, Lord I feel it, prone to leave the God I love. Here's my heart, Lord, take and seal it, seal it for thy courts above."

What an apt picture of the human condition. Without grace, we are broken. The Christmas message, no matter your belief, is about grace. For others, and for yourself. For me, it's about recognizing that while I am prone to wander, the Lord is there, and he is continuing to weave an intricate story that positively impacts those around me, builds me, and glorifies Him. Why wouldn't I want to be chained to that? As for my heart, the more life I live, the more I recognize that there is one consistency, and that is the unwavering love of God. That's what Christmas means to me this year.

Sunday, December 16, 2018

They Call Me Auto Ana

They don't. Not yet, at least.

The trip to the annual SEMA/AAPEX automotive conference began on a plane next to a woman in desperate need of a chat. Her friend had passed after having a stroke at the age of 95, sitting at a club, drinking a vodka cranberry, surrounded by friends. They were returning to Vegas to sprinkle her ashes across the strip. As weird as that may sound, I’m sure ashes of loved ones aren’t the most disgusting particles on the strip. What a way to go. What a legacy. A modern-day heroine.

Speaking of modern-day heroines, I have successfully partially rebranded myself as Ana, which I consider quite an accomplishment.* I’m my own largest barrier in this endeavor, because I sometimes forget to introduce myself with the appropriate accent. I think the foreign sound of Ana Navatsyk conjures connotations of German engineering, making me more endearing to my automotive colleagues.

As if I need any help being endearing. I have my father to thank for pontificating over high school football, giving me the easiest ice breaker while talking to the CEO of a manufacturing company based in the Midwest. His son had the state championship winning catch in 2010. Of course, if high school football isn’t relatable, there are always college allegiances, professional allegiances, and, though not as strong yet, undercar replacement parts.

The last time I was in Vegas for a conference was AWS re:Invent with VividCortex. In both cases, I had very little experience with the subject matter of the conference. Maybe one day I’ll go to a conference where I’m an expert – where’s the conference for awkward encounters and embarrassing moments like realizing your shirt has come unbuttoned in the middle of a presentation? I’d run that show. Shockingly, both tech and auto shows were heavily skewed toward males, though I have been told on multiple occasions I'm more masculine than most men, which I choose to take as a compliment. One evening, I dined with eleven men, during which one joked that he was going to take a picture and send it to HR for the diversity portfolio. I ordered the filet Oscar, obviously. And crushed it.

Much like tech conferences, there are two delineations of participants – the back end and front end engineers; the aftermarket and performance manufacturers. The back end and aftermarket are purists, the backbone of the industry. The front end and performance are easy on the eyes, design focused, at times, even flashy. And somewhere in the crowd, diligently taking notes and nodding her head, hoping that her glasses make her appear knowledgeable, I’m learning the function of a query or a tie rod.**

Some things were different, though. Last time, my co-worker was talking me off a ledge over a bloomin’ onion at Outback. I returned home, spent $900 on a GMAT study guide, and threw myself into a contingency plan. This time, I spent four nights out with co-workers, during which no one found out my high school nickname – it’s still a secret, y’all! – didn’t have to explain what my company did – except to those manufacturers that still don’t think Amazon is the greatest company on earth, and ate my yearly quota of filets – though I did miss the bloomin’ onion.

While life looks different than it did three years ago, some things are unchanged. I spent the weekend after the conference in Napa, winery-hopping and chatting with friends. If those three years have embedded any truths, they are these: God will always be faithful, even when you don’t understand how, family will always be family, even when they feel distant, people will always be worth the investment, except when they’re not, and wine will always be delicious*. And if I pass into that other world, sipping wine with good friends, then I have lived a good life. And you can sprinkle my ashes across a vineyard.

*I'm also trying to brand myself as a heroine.
**That's right. I know the function of both a chassis and a tie rod.
*Unless it’s corked.

Tuesday, November 20, 2018

Happy Thanksgiving, Grandpa!

November 20th is always a bittersweet day. Eighteen years ago, my Grandpa passed away after a four year battle with prostate cancer. I started to write that the cancer took so much from him, as cancer does. After all, it took his physical strength. Ultimately, his life. But then I stopped, because that was all it took. In the four years and countless nights I spent on his couch, I never once saw it affect his spirit. His laugh may have been softer, but it was hearty. His arms may have been black and blue from blood transfusions, but his veins ran red with resilience. His hugs may have been weaker, but they were full of love. The type of love that brightens every grand daughter's smile and reminds her she will always have a safe haven. The type of love Grandma still talks about.

Of course, November 20th always falls around Thanksgiving, and every year, when I reflect on Grandpa's passing, I'm reminded how blessed I am. He was a coal miner, and he moved his family to Ohio so they could have better. He and his wife raised four wonderful children (though his wife would say she did most of the raising and may question how wonderful they are from time to time), one of whom I'm lucky enough to call my dad, a man who is excited to pray with me every morning on the way to work. A man who said the other day, "Anna, if your Grandpa could see you, he wouldn't believe it."

I hope that's the case, but Grandpa set a really high standard. He didn't live his life for himself; he lived it for his family, for those around him. Because of that, I've had the opportunities that I've had. How do I follow in his footsteps and serve others who haven't been given those same opportunities? That's a really big question, and it's one I'm not fully prepared to answer, except that I think it's this lifelong pursuit with a whole lot of missteps. I do know this. If my life is centered around me, rather than others, and ultimately Jesus, I will accomplish much less.

This Thanksgiving, I'm grateful for so much. The strong friendships that were built in business school over such a short period of time, but that will not be quickly lost. This job with so many smart people that allows me the opportunity to showcase both my ping pong and pie-eating skills. The people I've met who have made the transition much easier. And as always, more than anything, I'm grateful for a family who reminds me the value of persevering through adversity and of loving those around you selflessly. With that, I'm going to spend Thanksgiving eating food other people have made for me. No worries, though, I'll bring the wine. And a whole lot of laughter.

Friday, October 19, 2018

Friday Night Musings

Hi friend! Happy Friday. I just put banana bread in the oven, Gregory Alan Isakov is serenading me, and the dusk light is fringing the mountainous horizon*. I'm eating pizza from Whole Foods. I love their pizza, and since it's from Whole Foods, I tell myself it's healthy. I'm not sure if that's true, but it's definitely expensive. Seriously, I just spent $118 on a slice of pizza and ingredients for banana bread. Maybe some wine. Of course, I opted to bake the paleo banana bread which reminded me why I stopped eating paleo. It's not economically practical. The best part was that after I learned my total was $118, the cashier put my items into two bags with no handles. "Is two bags okay?" he asked. "Well, that depends. Are you walking half a mile back to your home, and did you just pay your day's wages for a slice of pizza? I think I've earned two bags with handles, please." "Of course. Sorry, we've run out of stock, but I'll find you a couple." Looks like Amazon's efficient operations still has some work to do with Whole Foods.

Speaking of Amazon - I'm still working there. In fact, the highlight of my time was probably this morning when I turned on my computer to this image:


As one would expect, I especially kicked ass today.

My ping pong game's improving. At RKG, I was a straight singles player, but my doubles game is developing, and I think I'm coming into my own as a partner. I need to bring a pair of ping pong shoes to work, because my mobility is extremely limited in my boots. It's Q4, so the response de jour is, "I'm really slammed with Q4." I sometimes wonder the root of the stress as I'm simultaneously wondering what song we should lip sync to win the office battle. Is it real, is it manufactured, is it necessary, is it group think? This happened a lot in business school. Everyone around you was stressed, so you were stressed, sometimes warranted, but most of the time because you had FOMO if you weren't stressed. I'm very grateful to say that work is not stressful for me. Part of that is my nature, but a bigger part of that is the team and the leadership. At any company, the team dictates your experience, and when I came to Amazon, the only thing I prayed for was a team with great leadership. There will come a time when my work will necessarily cause me stress, and I will be grateful for that stress, but between you and me, I don't think it will be in retail. Chassis can only stress me out so much. That's right, folks, I know what a chassis is. Well, I don't really know what a chassis is, but I know how to pronounce it, and I know it exists. I've also decided to name my first born chassis, which is, I believe, gender neutral. Very progressive of me. I know, I know, I need a date first.

A number of people have asked me for a dating update, but I need to be clear. I can't disclose every date on my blog, otherwise, suitors will be terrified to go on a date with me. Of course, if they read my blog, they may not be pursuing me for other reasons - like the fear I'd make them take my last name. I love my last name and pseudo-Polish heritage, but I wouldn't put anyone through the nuisance of spelling Navatsyk to a stranger. Mr. Smith, you can rest easy and ask me out, I will happily take your name.

All that said, I did get asked out tonight. A good friend of mine, Armin, once told me at a bar, that all I needed to do to pick up guys was sit at the bar and stare off into space, looking a little lost and confused. He's not wrong. I accepted the experiment. Within five minutes, I had three guys approach me and try to spark a conversation. However, I think an even better way to pick up guys is to go to a bar alone on a Sunday to watch football. Don't be mistaken; I don't go to pick up guys. I go to watch all three mediocre fantasy lineups perform below expectation and occasionally argue if OBJ is worth his asinine contract. Then, somewhere in the middle of this, I get someone's life story. Like two weeks ago, when the guy next to me told me that two of his closest friends had passed away in the past year under the age of forty - one from falling down a crevice while skiing Mount Rainier, and the other from a brain aneurism. We passed way beyond OBJ at this point, and, frankly, the fact that the bartender kept refilling my mimosa without me asking left me ill-equipped to engage in this level of conversation.

Anyways... the date. I didn't go. With so much newness, it's sometimes hard to convince yourself you want to adjust to something else that's new. Even if it's only on a Friday night, because that Friday night is sacred, and it's no one else's but your own. Plus, I have to wake up at 8 am tomorrow to watch the Michigan/MSU game and drink mimosas. Ahh the struggles of the West Coast sports viewing.

Dating's tricky. Because sometimes you're on that side of it, and sometimes, you're on the other. I guess, the hope is, eventually, you meet someone who's on the same side. Or you start recording the stories of everyone you meet sitting at a bar on a Sunday.

Football, not as tricky. It's pure, especially in high school. I just sat on the edge of my seat, reading my mother's texts, recounting the Chardon/Kenston matchup. Kenston was ranked number one in the state. My brother-in-law, Mitch, is the head coach of Chardon football, and my dad has helped coach for as long as I can remember - I believe 24 years at this point. This game was huge. If they won, they made the playoffs after a rocky start, and if they lost, they were out. Mitch is intense. I've always loved his intensity. He talks about softness a lot. He hates softness. At the beginning of this year, he was interviewed, and he referenced war. "I want to find the guys who I can take to battle, who I want with me in the trenches." Of course, war may be a bit of an exaggeration, because there have been wars, and these boys aren't in a war. But if you've ever seen a young team win THAT game, you get it. You feel that passion, that grit, that leadership, that camaraderie, and that community that stands behind them. Maybe it's just because I grew up in this town where football was king, but that moment is so special.

O, that town. I'll never stop missing it. I'll never stop missing my nieces and nephews, Sunday dinners, my parents and siblings, the Midwest spirit. But three months into my new home, I'm feeling mostly settled. I'm figuring out the people I want with me in the trenches*. I'm figuring out the balance between the different facets of my life, though my screaming triceps would argue I still have some work to do. I'm figuring out how to confront my flaws and improve. Mostly, I'm continually learning that all of this takes time, and I need to be patient.

It's funny. Sometimes you think you're an adult. You think you're getting it together. Then you get back from Whole Foods, sit on the toilet, and realize the one thing that wasn't included in your $118 bill was toilet paper.

* I don't know if fringing is the right term, or if it's a verb, but I like it.

* I was going to say in my trenches, but I feel like that's inappropriate.

Saturday, October 6, 2018

My Brunch Alone

Last Sunday, I went to brunch by myself. Brunch was such a ritual in Charlottesville. Sunday wasn't a day to work. It was a day to go to brunch, hit up a winery or two, take a nap, and then wake up ready to conquer the week, but somehow, I haven't found a brunch crew in Seattle yet. People run errands, watch Netflix all day, or do work. Weird - although I do get the Netflix. It will happen - I hope - but until then, I love going by myself, because there is no mood a mimosa, breakfast tacos, oldies, and people watching can't improve.

The bar at my favorite spot was full. Last time I had brunch, I sat next to two industry folks and had a great conversation about katen, or some supplement that acts as an upper in small doses but depressant comparable to heroine in large doses. Perhaps I should do errands, but I decided to wait. It only took a couple minutes, and I sat next to a woman who was also alone. She was returning from a women's conference in Houston and was about to begin a new role at Microsoft.

I asked about her transition. She talked about her new boss - how much she wanted to learn from her, how she inspired her. She talked about her old boss. She had heard she was aggressive, and she wondered if it was just because she was a woman, but after working for her, she realized the perception wasn't simply because she was a woman. She learned a lot, but she also learned what she didn't want to be as a leader.

I asked about her career, and she spoke about her experience in Africa. How going to another culture can make you learn so much more about your own, in all its strengths and weaknesses. The people in Africa, even with so little, were so happy because they were together, and because they had community. I always relate to that, because no matter how far I am from home, I think about the happiness of Grandma, who, not having much, has so much love for and from her family. I've never been driven by money or success - I've been driven by wanting to be the best version of myself and getting to a position I can give the most that I am able. That's taken me further from home than I would have liked, but I still carry those roots with me, and I'm so grateful I have them. America's amazing, but I think it's easy to get lost in the race and forget about those who have been with you from the beginning, or even not have people with you from the beginning, which is unfortunate.

I asked about her family on the east coast and if she missed them. She did, and she said if she didn't find someone here in the next couple years, she would move back, because there comes a point when you just have to decide to be close to family. I'm not at that point in my life, yet, but I understand that, too.

I asked about diversity. I loved how she spoke about it, because so often, you get a canned response that goes something like this: "We really want to emphasize not only diversity, but also inclusion. We want more women, more under-represented minorities, more members of the LBGTQ community." But the way she talked about it was so much more real and impactful. She said - and I'm paraphrasing, and probably inadvertantly inserting a bit of my own opinion - that's an easy place to start because it's obvious, but diversity is so much more. We want blue collar, and white collar, we want diversity of thought. Because you don't speak for every white, Christian female, and I don't speak for every black female, and if we simply leave it at that, we're selling ourselves short. She said they hadn't figured out, but they were working on it.

I asked about dating in Seattle. She laughed and said it's terrible. She talked about her date with a man who had a foot fettish. Or the one who had no drive to be anything beyond what he currently was. She told me it was going to be particularly hard if I wanted to find a fellow Christian. I chuckled.

I asked about work life balance, and if people, especially women, found it difficult to move up in the company once they had children. That answer was a little harder to interpret, but I believe the essence of her answer was that if they wanted to move up, they weren't inhibited.

Earlier that day, I had gone to church. I'm a greeter, because I figure it's a good way to keep me accountable and potentially meet some people. The ice breaker that was asked was what are we passionate about. I thought about it until it was my turn, and my answer was, I'm passionate about people. All of them. Because people are so interesting and so insightful in different ways.

I don't like consuming a lot of media. I think it's often hopeless and focused on the negative, because that's sensational. But I love going to brunch, because of all the times I've gone to brunch alone, I haven't met one person who has left me hopeless. Instead, the fascinating people, those I will likely never see again, give me hope that people care about something. That they sincerely desire to improve the state of those aspects they can impact. That drives me to try the same.

Wednesday, September 26, 2018

My 30 Thoughts

Oooo my favorite tradition. I'm so happy to revisit you. I just got off the phone with one of my good friends from Charlottesville, and with that, I will start with thought one

1) I'm so grateful for Charlottesville. What a random place for a college grad from Ohio to land, but the people there have had such a wonderful impact on my life. I've been reconnecting with them lately, and it's such a nice reminder that though time and place can separate you, that connection remains.

2) I'm so grateful for Seattle. On Sunday, I had a lovely dinner with friends from Michigan. Even though I told myself going into grad school, I wasn't going to land on the West Coast, of all the places to be, I'm surrounded by so many good people who know and care about me.

3) While we're on the topic of things I'm grateful for - I'll never stop being grateful for my family. They're amazing. I loved getting birthday messages from my nieces and nephews, and I love that I talk my dad every day before work, and I love that I miss them so much, because that's a sign of something special.

4) The DMV. Let's talk about the DMV. Because I went there Saturday, and man, there are so many things that can be done to improve it. Personally, I think our political system is focused on the entirely wrong objectives. They should be focused on making every day experiences like the DMV ones that don't make you want to punch a wall.

5) Here's my proposal. Paint the walls. Add a Starbucks. Give customers one of those vibrating gadgets like restaurants do. And open a bar next to the DMV with a cool play on the acronym - drinking more vodka is what Lauren and I concocted, but I'm open to different ideas.

6) On the bright side, there was a Marshall's, and I bought myself two pairs of boots while waiting.

7) I'm listening to Shovels and Rope right now, and one of my favorite memories will be walking up the hill of the Gorge and reaching the cusp as they broke down Birmingham. There are few moments that are absolutely breathtaking, but that was one of them.

8) When I say breathtaking, I think of Seinfeld. If you don't get the reference, you should watch more Seinfeld.

9) Guys, I've reached a new decade of my life.

10) Not to be too reflective, but it's always interesting to think about your life ten years ago.

11) I guarantee you, I didn't see myself here ten years ago. I saw myself married in Ohio, because that's what so many people in my life did. And I respect them all very much and think their life is so special and meaningful.

12) Yet, I'm really glad I'm here. And as much as I bemoan it from time to time, I'm really glad I've been single, because I've taken these chances and built these relationships that I may not have otherwise.

13) I am overwhelmed by the caliber of people in my life, and I know I don't deserve it. They're people who have pushed me, who have encouraged me, who have comforted and loved me - who have reminded me of my worth when I've forgotten it.

14) People talk about the Seattle freeze, but I don't believe it. I think the world gives you what you feed it, and I think if you give unwavering goodness, that's what you receive.

15) Can we take a moment to reflect on the Browns victory? We won a game!!! Pretty sure Mayfield is the next JC incarnate. JK, don't think I'm blasphemous.

Here are some learnings from my twenties:

16) Don't be afraid to be loud. Don't be afraid to be smart. Don't be afraid to laugh. The people you attract will appreciate that. And the people who don't probably aren't worth your time.

17) Wine is super tasty.

18) If it's not him, it's something else, and that something else is much better.

19) Be honest with yourself and everyone around you. Always.

Things I hope to learn in my thirties:

20) How to make a dentist experience enjoyable

21) How to blow up balloons, because this is a weakness

22) How to efficiently capitalize on corporate benefits, because this is also a weakness

23) Truth is, I was anxious leading up to my 30th birthday.

24) I think it's because I started this new job in a new city and didn't feel myself.

25) Then I realized, I've done this before, I'll do it again, and every time, I'm capable.

26) You always grow the most when you're uncomfortable. The year of 29 was really uncomfortable, on so many levels - personal, professional.

27) I cried a lot. I questioned a lot of things I never I thought I would question. I worked through insecurities I thought I had already overcome. And, as always, I grew stronger.

28) There's this moment at every show like the one I went to at the Gorge - maybe EDM shows have this, too, but I don't know. This moment when you're dancing your heart out to this band who's playing their heart out, and you think, "man, life is this amazing picture and it's so exciting that I have no idea what's going to happen next."

29) Guys, I have no idea what's going to happen next.

30) But I'm super excited about it.

Saturday, September 8, 2018

The Plight of an Extrovert

Don't worry all you sensitive introverts* out there, I'm not saying my life is harder because I'm an extrovert. In fact, I don't really love the delineation to begin with and generally question the value of personality tests. A topic for another time. I did, however, like the distinction I heard one time: extroverts use other people to recharge and reenergize, whereas introverts reenergize by being alone. Anyone who has known me for more than ten minutes knows I'm an extrovert. I would like to take a moment to clarify that getting your energy from other people does not mean you love being in a crowded room with strangers. It means when I want to wind down and decompress and get ready for the next day, I want to do it with someone else I know well and who knows me well.

My cooking schedule's been super off since starting work. I can't seem to get in a routine, so I tried HelloFresh. I'm only a week in, but I have to say, I like it so far. They take care of the ingredients, I take care of the cooking, and because I'm only cooking for myself, I have some leftovers for lunch. The recipes aren't too fancy, but they're tasty. I put on a playlist I haven't listened to in ages, and Boys of Fall came on. Four years ago, I wrote this blog post about the Boys of Fall. I had just moved into a new apartment in Charlottesville, was in the middle of a job transition, and was sitting at my kitchen table, enjoying the fall breeze and view of the mountains.

Here I am, in a new apartment, in the middle of a job transition, sitting at my kitchen table, enjoying the fall breeze and view of the mountains. This isn't about the Boys of Fall, though if you have ever watched Friday Night Lights and want the inside scoop, I suggest you read the post. This is about finding yourself in transition once again and remembering who you are in that. No matter how many times I do it - and I've done it a number of times - I forget how hard it is. You can do all you can to prepare, you can know this is where you are supposed to be and what you are supposed to be doing, and yet, when you get there, you fight the same battles you've fought before. Those battles are different for everyone, but for me, they've been pretty consistent: loneliness, uncertainty, the struggle to balance every aspect of my life, to not push myself too hard, patience with myself in figuring out a new job and a new city, embracing the waiting for the pieces of life to fall into place. Above all, trusting that they will.

And while you have people you know support you, in my case and in many others, you don't have your person. That person who's in your corner. Who knows you intimately. Who tells you you're a badass when you feel differently. Who pushes you, who encourages you, who builds you up and who calls you out when you need it. Who works hard at the relationship because they recognize it's worth it. Who makes you feel home when so much around is foreign. This isn't about that person. This is about remembering that I have been that for myself, and that I can be that for myself now and in the future.

I stayed in tonight for the first Friday in a very long time. I worked out, cooked, listened to music, drank wine, and wrote - my favorite things. I remembered I could recharge on my own, as well. And don't worry - tomorrow I have arranged a party bus for 35 people to visit Washington wine country, so my extravert will be more than satiated.

*not saying all introverts are sensitive, so don't be offended by that either.

Monday, August 20, 2018

Misadventures of Dating

Hi there, friend. Monday's over, and let me say, I feel much better than last Monday. You see, an old friend came into town last Sunday, and I was just so excited I forgot I have a real job now, and my zero trips to the gym last week confirm that I do not recover like I used to. Ahh adulthood. I bought myself house plants. Then I read the care instructions, and I give Eleanor about three months max, especially because the care instructions say it needs bright indirect light. Currently, all it's getting is smog as Seattle has poorer air quality than Hanoi, a city that burns their trash regularly. I think Teddy has better odds, but I'll bet in five months they will be replaced by fake houseplants. I don't know why I named them after the Roosevelts, except that I'm still watching West Wing.

I also bought myself a wine rack and plenty of colorful liquors to go on my bar cart - for when I entertain, you know. I'll mix classy cocktails and pour fine wine, oozing sophistication. Don't judge me - I got fireball. Just kidding, but that wold be funny. Possibly on brand.

Caveat: I have been on many dates, some that have led somewhere, and some that haven't. And I wouldn't be critiquing this one if it weren't for how he behaved at the end of the date.

In the spirit of adulthood, I also went on a date. I know, I know, I'm usually not pro dating. One of my issues dating people I don't know well is that I could have a very entertaining conversation with my table, learn its life story, and make myself laugh. Plus, there are so many people I enjoy spending time with and so many activities I enjoy, why is this a good use of my time? However, since arranged marriages haven't yet made their way to the States and the guys I know are committed or have the maturity of my nephew*, I occasionally peak my head above my burrow and look around.

I met this particular guy at his protein shake shop. I should have known then this was going nowhere good. The shake shop was beneath my apartment building. I ventured in there one day. We chatted for a bit, and I ran into him a couple times after our initial meeting. One of those times, we were talking about a good book or a good event or some other stupid excuse to get my number, but he asked for my number so he could send me the details. A couple weeks later, he asked me to go salsa dancing, and I couldn't go. He asked me out again; I couldn't go. He asked me out again, and I said yes to brunch. Harmless enough.

He chose a Mexican restaurant, which is great because I love breakfast tacos. He arrived in a cutoff muscle shirt. Strike one, but to be fair, it's a Saturday, and he owns a gym and a protein shake shop, so maybe it's a check swing. Or maybe I shouldn't have gone to begin with.
We sit down; I order a margarita. "Ahhh, you're a margarita girl," he says. "Well, yes, when I'm at a Mexican restaurant that serves margaritas." Don't be cute with me. You don't know me well enough to be cute with me.

He slouched in his seat and spoke in that meathead tone that slightly slurs every word, and you're not sure if they think they're from Jamaica or are part of the cast of Dazed and Confused or are trying to hit on you with the question, "Do you like cats or dogs?"

He's quite entrepreneurial, dabbling in all sorts of different gigs, and they seemed pretty successful, which might be somewhat attractive if he weren't licking his lips so much. Why are you licking your lips so much? They're going to get chapped.

I said I had never been to this part of town and asked what his favorite spots were. He answered and asked what my favorite spots were. "Well, I don't know, because I stated one minute ago, I've never been to this part of town." Are you listening?

I was so glad I was wearing sunglasses so I didn't have to make eye contact, but I also had some promising pork tacos on the way which I was pumped about. Our conversation took a welcomed pause when he turned around to chat with the two women sitting behind us.

The tacos came. They were delicious. I asked him why he moved to Seattle.

"I moved here for you."

"No, really, why'd you move?" Clearly, I wasn't picking up what he was throwing down. And I get signals. I've been single for a long time; I know when I'm putting off a vibe that I'm into you. But he pressed on.

"You want to come back to my place after this?"

"No, that's okay."

"Why not?"

"I'm meeting some friends at 3." He was upset I had scheduled my day so tightly. I said I didn't expect this to be very long.

The check came, and he graciously paid after I offered to split. After which he commented again: "You have time for one more drink, though, right? Let's go back to my place."

"No. No, I don't. I already said I don't."

We leave. He says good bye to the women sitting behind us. Conveniently, his condo was less than a block away from the restaurant. He points it out and says, "Come on, you know you have time. Come in."

"No." I quickly gave him a hug, said thank you, and turned to walk away. He grabbed my arm and pleaded, "Come here. Give me a kiss." Are you a puppy dog? How desperate are you? For the love of God, it's three o'clock in the afternoon. Alternative: You could say you had a nice time and ask me out again. Where's my burrow?

I firmly said no and scurried on my way.

It's a shame, because the shack had some good protein shakes, and I refuse to support his business. I could make a lot of commentary on the entire interaction, but I'll refrain. The bright side is, though, sometimes I get lonely. Then I go on a date like this, and I think, well, my glass of wine, some Jason Isbell, and a bit of writing is company enough.*

* Actually, he could be more mature.
* At least until someone who's not a tone deaf, entitled idiot with an inflated sense of self comes along.

Friday, August 3, 2018

Update: Three Weeks In

First: Huge win. Three weeks, multiple happy hours, dozens of ice breakers, and no one outside of the Ross Amazon bubble is aware of my high school nickname. Sometimes, I even impress myself.

I also just received my Le Creuset dutch oven which is an exquisite addition to my decor. Now I just have to use it... unlike that time I bought an exorbitantly expensive and beautiful snowboard when I was fifteen and used it twice. At the very least, the dutch oven makes me feel like an adult.

Guys - I'm an adult! I'm almost three weeks in, though two of those were training. On the bright side, we had two weeks of training. On the down side, we had two weeks of training. I will delve into very little detail because 1) you probably don't care and 2) Amazon probably knows what I'm writing. And thinking. Before I think it.

As with all orientations, some content is extremely useful and engaging, some content is redundant, some content doesn't make sense until you actually do it, and some content I miss because my mind has wandered to who's the funniest person in the classroom - besides myself. Or whether or not I left my curling iron burning. I'm pretty sure I turned it off, but it's possible my apartment's somehow caught on fire. I hear a siren. Shoot.

This will come as no surprise, but my favorite part of training is the people. Good news. There are at least a few funny people. I don't remember their names, because I'm terrible with names, but they're definitely funny. New life goal: reach a point of authority where I'm not compelled to remember names. "Kevin, will you please pick up my laundry." "My name's Jesse." "Mmm no. I feel like you're a Kevin." "Okay." Just kidding. I recognize the value in remembering names, but I need a better system. Currently my system is: you have a generic American name, you have a generic Indian name, you have a completely foreign name and I don't even understand how those syllables blend together. Let's try a few iterations and see how it goes. Anyways, I'm pretty sure everyone in training loved me. I don't see how they couldn't.

Three days into my actual work, and I'm still excited. I like the way my co-worker's brains work, and I think my brain works in a similar manner*. I like the problems we're trying to solve. There are a lot more resources and people to learn from than at a startup, yet, it seems you still have to be scrappy, which I love. I do wish Amazon would adopt my preferred policy of bathroom doors that reach the floor, but other than this, I have no complaints.

All that said, I have to be honest with you and tell you I did have a moment. I was so certain I wouldn't. After all, I'm a pro at this. I'm used to starting over. I'm a strong, smart, independent lady, and I've done this so many times before. This time, I have a great network of people around me. I have this pretty cool job at an amazing company, even if it did lose the race to the $1 trillion market cap. I had taken the time to work through that gunk that accumulates over time. I have it together.

Then it triggered. I wasn't ready for it, but it hit me like a ton of bricks. All of a sudden, I was lonely, and the insecurities I worked so hard to overcome resurfaced. The demons of doubt swarmed. The thing about those demons is I don't think they ever completely disappear. You just get better at fighting them and sending them back to hell a little faster each time. You also have the right people around you to help. You take that as progress.

I keep reading this devotional year after year. I know I've mentioned it before, but the last three days in July are such a great sequence:

1. Wait for Him
2. He will fulfill the desires of your heart
3. He commands the whole world; trust Him with everything. Everything is a really big ask, and that's really hard to do.

The first time I read this devotional was five years ago. I was living in Charlottesville, serving tables at a restaurant, extremely unsatisfied and wondering why God had put me there when the roads I took seemed to lead to dead ends. One Friday night in particular, I took a minute to sneak into the bathroom and break down because I felt so lost and alone.

Now I'm here; by no means do I think I have made it. In fact, if I ever think I've made it, slap me, because there is always more to work toward. I do know I've grown over those five years. I find it easier to trust that those uncertainties that I want to be certain, especially during times of transition - those desires - will happen if I wait. In the meantime, one really strong desire - the desire to be in a place where my career can be cultivated and thrive - has been met. For that, I am grateful.


* Apart from the wanderings...

Friday, July 13, 2018

Anna's Goals for Amazon. Or Is It Annazon?

It's not. I'll address that later, but first:

It's my final day of freedom. Well, technically, I have Saturday and Sunday, but those don't count because it's a weekend. I've taken to using the apartment patio as my personal living room since PODS and I had a misunderstanding leaving me temporarily without a television. It took me awhile to figure out the TV this morning, but I refused to ask for help because I'm pretty sure everyone at the front desk is convinced I do nothing but spend money on packages and wait in my apartment to collect them. I assure them I will have a job come Monday.

I'll have a job come Monday. I'm so excited to begin my job! I'm not excited because I think it's going to be easy. On the contrary, I'm excited because I think it's going to be hard. I plan on it being hard. I want to be overwhelmed, take deep breaths, solve problems and learn. I'll probably cry, because I cry a lot.

I started studying for the GMAT November of 2014. I've put in nearly four years of work - and a whole heap of down time - to get my ass kicked. I don't have anyone in my life I need to prioritize, I don't have children, and I have yet to commit to a life of service in a convent. So, yes, I'm excited to get my ass kicked.

Per usual, when entering a new phase of life, I find it valuable to set goals. These aren't SMART* goals. I get the idea of SMART goals, but I don't know how I feel about this for my personal life, because I fixate on the numbers. For instance, I realized I'm about to turn 30; then, I considered whether or not I had hit 30 countries before the age of 30. I began to panic. Is St. John a country or an island? Should I classify a country by whether or not it's eligible for Miss Universe? Or acknowledged by the UN? Does it count if I spent one night in Columbia or not? Should I just drive up to Canada to make sure it's marked off the list? I think numbers can defeat the purpose sometimes, so some goals may seem vague, but here we go.

I think it's a bit much to expect the company to change the name to Annazon - they'd have to change the packaging, the domain name, not to mention all of the prodding into my uneventful personal life of binge-watching West Wing when the media learns it's become my namesake - but I like to think I can still make my dome-sized mark. This leads me to my first and highest priority.

1. Double dome selfie with Jeff Bezos. The man has an impeccable dome, and it would be a great addition to my coffee table book.

2. Don't lock myself out of my apartment. The door automatically locks every time I close it. The current over/under on me locking myself out is seven months, in the middle of winter when I enter a zombie like state of indifference. I'd like to bet on myself to hit the over.

3. Let's be honest, I talk too much to carry mystique. I need to let that one go. I can, however, keep my high school nickname a secret for more than a week.

4. Become a monger. Such a cool title. Can you be a monger of anything? Maybe I'll be a wine monger. Or, the first tech monger at Amazon.

Okay, but for real:

1. Double dome selfie. No sarcasm there. Equally important: find friends with boats.

2. Look for ways to serve others, inside and outside of work, in small ways and in large ways.

3. Be a connector. I almost said maven, but that would give the MO department at Ross too much satisfaction. Even connector sounds like a cringe-worthy business school term, but I can't think of a better one. I think I have a face that says, "Tell me your life story", as evidenced by the gardener who has just given me an extended lesson in horticulture while explaining her career path. I'm comfortable reaching out, and I'm pretty good at getting outside my bubble, though we could always be better. I will do something with these three qualities.

4. Figure out a sustainable, healthy, workout pattern. I enjoy so many activities. Crossfit, tennis, hiking, eating good food, drinking good drinks, meeting new people. I have to work somewhere in there, and my body doesn't recover quite like it did, so I need to carefully consider where I spend my time and what I put into my body. Example of what not to do: the last two months of business school.

5. Get my name in front of the right people. Coming from small companies, I've never really had to navigate a hierarchy, but I could have done a better job of that in business school. For instance, I got rejected for a minuscule public speaking gig* because the leaders had never heard me speak. You and I both know I'm a phenomenal speaker, but the right people didn't.

6. Write more for myself. Believe it or not, this blog only contains 20% of my thoughts. I want to start recording 30% of the other 80% for my memoirs I will write by the age of 40. In doing so, I want to be braver in my writing, addressing opinions not everyone will hold. I picture myself walking around with a note pad, constantly reflecting, however, I have terrible handwriting, and my hand cramps because I hold pens incorrectly, so I have to think about my tactic a bit more.

7. Be a sponge. Learn as much as I can, and consider what is most valuable for the next step in my illustrious career.

One of the reasons I'm excited is because I know I'm not doing this alone. I have a Bible verse for phases of life, and the one that speaks to me most currently is, “The eyes of the Lord search the whole earth in order to strengthen those whose hearts are fully committed to Him.” Being fully committed is the goal of a lifetime, but knowing that I have a strength greater than my own is exciting.

The match is still going on. Wimbledon doesn't have a tiebreak the fifth set, so theoretically, it could go on forever. Eight years ago, Isner played a 13 hour match before progressing. Can we first acknowledge what an unbelievable feat of athleticism it is for two men to be on the court, playing every point, for over six hours? It goes without saying that it's exhausting for the players, but what about the following semifinal match? Nadal and Djokovic are ready to play. They're ready to compete. The ability to compete - to work hard - is a privilege. Not privilege in the PC way that compels you to apologize for something you have no control over, but the privilege that compels you to capitalize on the opportunity presented to you, because there are so many others who, for a variety of reasons, don't have that opportunity. They've been staying warm on the sidelines, but I guarantee, when this match ends, they'll be pumped to get on that court and begin competing. I've been waiting on the sidelines. I'm ready to compete.


Sidenote ... Shameless plug: for those of you who enjoy reading this but are about to enter soul-sucking jobs in which scrolling Facebook is not a regular occurrence, feel free to subscribe via the box on your right. The posts go straight to your inbox, and, if you're worried about me knowing you enjoy my writing, I'm not tech savvy enough to know you've subscribed, so fear not!

* Though I very rarely do that.
* The only letter I remember is Measurable, which is the one I have a problem with
* That I didn't apply for

Monday, July 2, 2018

Being Single as a Tennis Match

Being single is like a tennis match*. Some games are hard, an absolute grind. Though you know you have the support of fans behind the fence**, and you hear the guidance of your coach, you want nothing more than to look someone directly in the eye, one foot in front of you, and hear them tell you, “You got this. Let’s go,” in a voice that embraces you with confidence. After you nail a winner, you want to turn to that partner, feel the touch of the hand as you high five, and share that moment of victory.

But then there are times you’re on the court, and everything’s clicking. Your strokes are flawless, your placement is perfection, and in those moments, you’re content you’re alone on the court – even grateful you don’t have to carry a teammate and have the freedom to focus only on your game. You don’t need a high five. Your own fist pump is more than enough.

I still have some time before work, so last week, I decided to take a solo trip. I could have stayed in Seattle and stopped hemorrhaging money, but that seemed silly. Plus, I made myself a promise when I decided to move: I was going to absorb the most I could that Washington and the Pacific Northwest have to offer. What better time to start than the present?

I booked myself a log cabin in the Cascades, complete with a jacuzzi bathtub, a glorious bed that tempted one to stay in all day, and a porch surrounded by nothing but the rustling of the forest leaves and the rushing river.

The week was lovely, a perfect reset – that is, after the first night in which I could barely sleep because I was anxiously planning all the relaxing I needed to do.

I went kayaking. I learned that two cans of wine are equal to one bottle, which was a sad realization as I was paddling away on the lake, contemplating opening the second can. You see, drinking two cans of beer does not seem excessive, but drinking a bottle of wine seems a bit much. On the other hand, if you just re-frame drinking a bottle of wine as drinking two cans, maybe it doesn’t sound as bad. I decided to refrain, mostly because I didn’t want to fall asleep in my kayak and wake up toppling into water like Ann of Green Gables.

I hiked a peak, my first in Washington, talking to myself most of the time, plotting the next steps in my world takeover.*** I used a walking stick, not for the utility, but because it makes me feel like Moses. Segue… I only experienced one hiccup when I got confused about where the trail was so began scaling the side of the waterfall, lamenting the fact that my shoes didn’t have better grip. After roughly 50 feet, I realized I just had to cross the stream at the bottom. I don’t know if I’m in worse shape than I was in Virginia – well, that’s not true, I know I am – or if it’s because the mountains are bigger, but it was a great workout.

I talked to others as well. The couple who built the log cabin after a lifetime in the city and treated me to a home cooked meal, tea, and cookies. The woman who moved from Seattle to pour wine when life there just got a bit too busy. The young server who left Seattle last winter, worked at a ski resort, and learned to ski because it was something new. Those stories always encourage me, because they’re about people who did something rather than just talking about it.

I went antiquing. O my goodness - I love antiques! This may be very dangerous, and if there were more antique stores near me, I’d have an apartment resembling a funhouse, filled with gold mirrors, mismatched tea cups, and garden gnomes. It would be beautiful.

I sat at a vineyard, sipping Cabernet, in a lodge, sipping a latte, on the patio in the most precious German town this side of Munich, sipping a beer. I sipped so many things! I listened to music, the kind that makes you happy nostalgic about the past and whimsically excited about the future, cozied up and read by the fire, spent hours searching for the perfect dining room painting and living room rug. I found them.

And in those moments by myself, contemplating whether or not I should drink the second can of wine, I gathered those small pieces of myself that had been hiding the past months. The pieces that knew I was strong, that knew I was adventurous and energetic. Those pieces that enjoyed her own company.

On the occasions I talk about being single to you, I often do it in the context of wanting to look someone directly in the eye, wanting to feel the touch of someone’s high five. It’s equally important to acknowledge those times when your own fist pump is more than enough.


* A singles tennis match, obviously.
** Roughly two in the case of D-3 tennis.
*** More to come on that.

















Wednesday, June 27, 2018

Anna Goes Apartment Hunting

Someone told me apartment hunting is like dating: you go in with a checklist, but ultimately you know it when you see it, and the checklist doesn’t really matter when you find it. But my checklist was super short: 1. I wanted an in-unit washer/dryer, because for the love of God, I am nearly 30 years old, and I am tired of scrounging for quarters like an undergrad. 2. Patio. Because of course, I need my outdoor space. A taste of sweet fresh air - or gas and sewage, depending on the city. There were some other nice-to-haves: gas stove, hardwood floors, wooded bath tub, private wine cellar, but the first two were non-negotiables. Also, I wasn’t going to live in that one place. It seemed a bit stale, and I, friends, am not stale.

And so, my apartment search began Monday after returning from Australia – which I only mention because it meant I was waking up at 3 in the morning, then staying up because the sun rises quite early in the Seattle summer. A perk for my pre-work workouts I plan to have, though foreboding for the winter months.

Numero uno. A gas stove! But ahh, if you accidentally don't light it immediately, you could die of suffocation because the space is so small. Open 1 bedroom, eh? You mean, you’re too cheap to finish the 10 inches of wall separating the bedroom and living room. Also, there’s no door to this “open bedroom”, which means I have to make my bed every day, lest be judged by guests. And if that one neighborhood is stale, then this feels unleavened.

Numero dos. There’s a loft that’s too small for a bed, and even if it were an adequate size, I would fall descending the ladder when I have to pee every night at 2 am because apparently, that is the cost of being hydrated - or drinking wine before I go to sleep. It is just the right size for my own private yoga studio, though. And it has twenty-foot walls to house the extensive art collection I don’t plan on collecting.

Numero tres. Nice enough. Clean. New countertops. Love new countertops. But the bathroom is through my bedroom, again, indicating I should make my bed every day. I don't like societal norms of orderliness imposed upon me.

Numero cuatro. You know what would be cool? Instead of offering me water, you offer me wine. I bet your conversion rate improves if there were a bar crawl/apartment hunt? I see it gaining some traction, especially among real estate companies who have multiple buildings. Patrons tour with a group of people, have some drinks, get friendly with them, hope they're your next door neighbors. This could backfire if the whole process is awkward, but at least the guests would leave a rave review of the process.

Day one ended. I returned to home base. I gave up on the gas stove.

Day two.

Apartment uno. Funky neighborhood, great bars, great food. Maybe it’s because a twenty-year-old is walking around the apartment with me, but I feel juvenile. Also, I know myself, and if I’m that close to bars, I’m going to go to bars. I’m getting old. Not that old, but old enough. I don’t need to go to bars as often.

Apartment dos. Yea… no. Although it does have gas stoves, it is not at all what I want. Why are all the apartments with gas stoves no bueno? I could be buying a house in Cleveland for these prices.

Apartment tres. I happened upon this one. A bit pricier than I wanted, but still within the range, and the person giving me a tour looked like he had hit puberty. The apartment was great. Huge windows. Great light. However, it was directly over the patio of a bar, and I couldn’t help but think, will this impede on my ability to walk from the bathroom to my bedroom post shower in whatever state I prefer?

Apartment Cuatro. Skip. I need to eat, and I need a mental break. Are you tired? I'm tired. Advantage of living alone: I get full autonomy. I can choose whatever I want. Drawback of living alone: I have no one to help me decide what I want.

Apartment Cinco. I was so excited about this one because it has the largest patio, but if the patio is overlooking a Motel-8 style parking lot, is it really worth it? No. No it’s not.

Apartment seis. O! This guy has a Michigan doormat in front of his door. Maybe that’s a sign? This is also definitely more than I want to spend. But, according to Google, it is wise to spend less than 25% of your gross income, and this is definitely less than that. No, Anna, you gave yourself a budget. Stick to it. Where’s my transportable voice of reason. Could I make an app to accompany people apartment hunting alone? At least I’m not buying a house. How am I ever going to buy a house?? Jetlag brain is kicking in, and I don’t know why I decided to walk this whole day in cheap ballet flats.

This place is also further from work. Maybe I’ll bike to work, like the cute guy on Suits. Great. I’ll buy myself a bike.

Day two ends. I buy a bike. I go home and drink wine while watching the Bachelor, during which I contemplate applying for the Bachelor, because frankly, I’d be way more entertaining than this broad.

Day three. I wake up and really don’t want to move but give myself a pep talk to get it together.

Apartment uno. Oh my goodness, no. I mean, I’m not trying to rent a mansion, but I also am not trying to live in Hobbitown with crappier flooring. I need to regroup.

I go to a café. I order a massive omelette, a mimosa, and coffee. I schedule a visit with the apartment I ditched yesterday, as well as a couple more.

Apartment dos. Oooo this has no patio, but it has an amazing view. And it has no washer/dryer, but it has more storage space - more space altogether. While the neighborhood may not be full of character, the building’s quaint, and the apartment has French doors. I can have a Renaissance dining room. And space! It has space for me to dance or twirl or have two people in a room without being on top of one another.

Apartment tres. Air conditioning. And 1000 square feet. So many square feet! It also looks directly into Amazon’s offices, and I think I just started crying. There is no way I'm walking from the bathroom to my bedroom in a towel here. Also, the 1000 square feet is carpeted. And I don’t know if I know what to do with 1000 square feet.

Apartment cuatro. A rock climbing wall! Rock climbing wall wasn’t even on my list, but maybe I want it. Maybe it’s essential to my daily life. Maybe, I can’t see my life without it. And a communal gas stove! Anna, you’re experiencing consumer fatigue. You need a beverage.

Apartment cinco. No, no, no, and no. Although, apparently, I don’t have to leave my apartment to watch the Solstice Parade which is exciting and would definitely be a huge draw for my father to come visit.

I bike to meet friends. I quickly realize there is no way I’m biking to work. In addition, there’s no way cute guy from Suits did not get excruciatingly sweaty biking to work in the NYC heat in his suit. So unrealistic. My faith in cable television is shaken.

I ponder my options. I’ve seen enough, and it’s time to make a self-imposed decision. I think I need to preemptively reward myself, though, so first, I will book myself a getaway in the Cascades. After all, it’s been a while since I’ve taken a vacation.

One bike, one trip to the Cascades later, I decided on day two apartment cuatro/day three, numero dos. The apartment with no patio, no in-unit washer/dryer, and in the neighborhood I didn’t think I’d like.

If apartment hunting is anything like dating, I will soon meet the unathletic, vegan atheist with no sense of humor of my dreams. Stay tuned… For now, I’m sitting in a cozy cabin in the middle of the mountains, drinking coffee, pondering my next big decision – what kind of dining table do I want?

Wednesday, June 6, 2018

My Thoughts on New Zealand

Spoiler: I don't have many. Except that this time, customs let me walk through without scanning my bags, which would have been great the first time I came with what would be a $400 banana.

First, let me say that I find the necessity to remove your hat when passing through immigration unnecessary. I understand why it should come off during security, but has anyone ever been caught impersonating someone else because after they removed their hat, the officer realized it was an imposter? I find it equally fascinating they don't ask me to remove my glasses if they insist on monitoring my head garb. Has Superman taught us nothing? Glasses conceal identities.

I am on the final leg of my journey, and I'm sure you are wondering what I did with ten days in a country with one of the most renowned natural landscapes in the world. I sat on a couch and successfully binge-watched two seasons of Riverdale, an intriguing tale of high school heroes, who are much more developed than the fifteen year old kids they are playing, combatting small town villains who have big city wiles. I have no regrets.

To be fair, our options were limited since the purpose of my trip was to meet Eloise, the latest addition to the Navatsyk/Meerman crew. Sixteen-week-olds are not extremely mobile, though they are extremely adorable. I found it surprisingly easy to adapt to the new mother routine. It probably helps that I'm not actually a new mother. Although, in solidarity with my sister who rotated breast feeding shirts, I wore the same outfit the entire week, rotating between frontwards and backwards elastic-waisted pants. It is very difficult to figure out the correct way to wear them because the tag is so tiny, and I'm so sleepy at 7 am. The grad school schedule has really spoiled me.

Despite not being the mother, I'm surprised I didn't spontaneously lactate. Between the baby staring expectantly at my boobs, willing them to produce milk and occasionally lunging to see if they did, and breathing in the essential oil to increase flow, it seemed a strong possibility. Essential oils, you really do have a solution for everything.

It wasn't all couch time and cuddles, though. New Zealand has yet to discover central heating, and we had a fire to tend. This required extreme vigilance, and I feel pretty qualified to build a fire in the forest, provided I have kindling cut for me and a fire already started. They call me Laura Ingalls Wilder.

I was also able to get back in the swing of cooking. It seems every time I travel to New Zealand, I discover another vegetable that is easier to cook than I think. Last time, it was broccoli - all you need to do is boil water and submerge the broccoli for four minutes. This time, it was bok choy. All you need to do is submerge the bok choy for a minute! I also concluded that while online recipes are convenient, cook books are much better. There's something cathartic about following a recipe in a book rather than switching between tabs to access the recipe on a cluttered computer browser. While in the kitchen, I also discovered many gadgets I need to acquire. A soda machine, a water boiler. Any gadget that alters water to an exciting, imbibable form that will allow me to ween myself off of the grad school beer-every-day-of-the-week lifestyle. I will be adding these, as well as other things, to a proactive registry.

What is a proactive registry, you ask? Good question. A proactive registry is yet another million dollar idea. It comes in lieu of a wedding registry, for those of us who need new things but aren't hearing the sound of wedding bells in the near future. You buy me a gift, and barring any unforeseen atrocity committed in our relationship by you, you are invited to the wedding, at which point, you do not need to buy my a gift. If the gift is $1,000+, you, my friend, have a fighting chance of joining the wedding party. There's some kinks to work through, but I like it.

It really was a special time. Soon enough, I will be back on the grind, with ten vacation days - yikes bikes I looked at my vacation allowance for the first year. Not abundant. As I sit there, taking over the world, one e-commerce transaction at a time, I will look back on trips like this. Trips in which I had the flexibility and the means to be with the people I love most, to see past brokenness being restored - though never completely - and to celebrate a sweet little life with loads of laughter. And, of course, to binge watch Netflix. And I will be so grateful.


Strolling the liquor store in my mother uniform. Liquor store sounds much more juicy than wine store, which is what we purchased.




Who you?



Just the happiest little nugget.

Wednesday, May 23, 2018

My Thoughts on Japan

Two years later, I return to Bangkok, bookending my MBA career. The difference is last time I stayed in an un-airconditioned hostel with a communal shower, and this time, I'm staying in the Okura with an infinity pool. Curiously enough, my income is still $0, though at least there is a paycheck in my near future. I decided not to join my companions on the palace tour, because Bangkok has not changed in two years and is still as hot and musty as a locker room in the middle of August. That idiom is courtesy of the fact that I finally started watching Friday Night Lights on the plane from Tokyo. I've avoided it for years because I assumed it would make me extremely homesick, and I'd cry the entire time.

I cried the entire time. But how could I not? The hopeful young love, the raw aggression on the field, the shattered dreams, the seeming weight of the world on a child's shoulder, boys and girls amidst the throws of adolescent passions, community, in all its ups and downs, pros and cons. Indeed, it beckoned sweet nostalgia but not heartache for home. Arguably insignificant because it’s just a TV show, but I like to think it shows I'm finally ready to let go of my long-held idea that I will settle in Ohio.*

It doesn't hurt that Seattle is surrounded by magnificent mountains, and after spending a couple days in the Japanese Alps, it’s confirmed that I’ve evolved over the decades to prefer mountains to beaches.


The Japanese Alps were only one of the many beauties of Japan, though. The delicious, if sometimes very raw and overly gelatinous, cuisine, the deep respect for a rich heritage, the ornate shrines and castles. It was a joy. As I feel with all my travels, my strength is not relaying the actual experience. No one wants to read about the hand-prepared sushi with the perfect ratio of wasabi, the creative cocktails, or the historical sites. My strength lies in random, insignificant observations. Let's start with the Japanese positives, in no particular order:

1. Toilets. I lied. This is definitely numero uno. The Japanese and I have a mutual respect for the bathroom experience. It is not transactional. It is relational, a time to be rejuvenated. You know my thoughts. The running water, the floor-length doors. I hadn't considered heated seats, but I'm okay with it. Full disclosure, I didn't use the bidet because I wasn't entirely positive it wasn't toilet water that would be sprayed. You may think this is ridiculous, but if anyone can manage to get toilet water sprayed on their bum, it would be me. My one suggestion is the country create a consistent flush button, because I spent about ten seconds in each stall finding the flush button, and another two seconds hoping I hadn't accidentally pressed the button that sprayed toilet water in my face.

2. Bonsai trees. I'm not really sure how you bonsai a tree, but I think more prestigious homes in the US should have them. I will certainly incorporate them onto my grounds.

3. Teal cranes. They're so pretty! A nice deviation from construction orange.

4. Escalator etiquette. Dear everyone at every airport. You stand to the left, pass on the right. You do not sway aimlessly on your step, making it impossible for anyone in a rush to advance. The Japanese understand this.

5. Timeliness. And apologies for being late. I'm not saying Americans aren't timely, because this American is extremely prompt. I'd like to see it more, though, and I'd also like to give a shout out to Air Nippon who, after a ten-hour delay which was an annoyingly ridiculous amount of time to be delayed, gave us 100 dollars cash to compensate for our loss of time.

6. International sports streaming. Upon returning to the states, I plan on acquiring an international VPN so I can stream live sporting events via Reddit and save on cable/NBATV/RedZone/MLBTV.

Baseball. This is a neutral category where I merely observe the difference between the sport in the two cultures. First, they have the equivalent of high school bands supporting the teams, making the energy throughout the game palpable. Second, and more interesting, the drinks are being served by cute young ladies carrying mini kegs on their back. It's definitely cultural bias, but something about old men screaming, "Get your peanuts!" with raspy voices makes me prefer the MLB tradition. As a possible point of improvement, I was informed the chili dogs had lettuce underneath the hot dog, causing the dog to not be contained in the bun, and leading to potential disaster. Better to put all condiments on top of the dog. And, really, no one needs lettuce at a baseball game.


I do, as always, have a couple minor suggestions. Some constructive feedback if you will:

1. Airlines - be on time. Or know the length of the maintenance window, because getting delayed at 2-hour increments beginning at 1 in the morning does not instill confidence.

2. Kimonos. Don't get me wrong. I love kimonos and wearing them around Kyoto fulfilled one of my childhood dreams. However, I take minor issue with the corset that sucks in everything you have and the belt that makes you look two inches thicker than you are. I understand the culture does not want to show off the figure, but if that is the case, then tie the corset a little looser, so I can breathe.


3. Trash cans. Finding a trash can was like finding buried treasure but without a map. And while having vending machines at every corner is a treat, one is then holding on to the remnants for hours, searching hopelessly in shops, on street corners, in the kitchen of restaurants, for the elusive trash can. Maybe there’s a trash ninja known only to the local Japanese, because the streets are shockingly clean.

4. Gelatinous delicacies. I’m sorry. It’s just weird, and I can't support it.

Now that I've told you my thoughts, I'm going to relay them to the President and Emperor**, respectively. Before that, though, I'm going to watch Game 5 of the Easter Conference finals for free.


* At least for now.
** In my mind, Japan is still led by the Emperor.


Saturday, May 5, 2018

The DMV... My Saga Continues

Years ago, I lost my license. Reasons are unimportant. I went to the DMV - or BMV, depending on your state - to replace it. It was Cinco de Mayo. As my friend and I were waiting patiently, one of the tellers asked another, "Is Cinco de Mayo always on the fifth of May?" I turned to my friend: "And that is why the DMV is run so inefficiently."

There are two things any avid reader knows to be true. 1) I do not claim to be good at logistics and 2) The DMV is my mortal enemy. I'm currently sitting at LAX, where I just saw Lebron crush the dreams of the Raptors with a buzzer beater. GOAT - though neither here nor there. I am flying to Tokyo but realized two weeks ago I was supposed to fly to Osaka. So I booked a flight to Osaka. Then I realized I booked the flight from the wrong Tokyo airport. So I booked another flight. Then I realized I get in a day early. So I booked a hotel. I recognize attention to detail with my personal matters - not professional, any future employers reading this - can be lacking at times which is why my ultimate goal next to world takeover is life assistant.

My occasional lapses in thoroughness, however, pale in comparison to those of the DMV and our entire driving system in general. If a Presidential candidate promised to nationalize the DMV, I'd vote for him/her/it regardless of really any other stance. I'll tell you when the trouble began.

I moved to Michigan a month before my Virginia license plates expired, and in the chaos of transitioning, I neglected to renew my plates. Aside from that, Virginia, in its noble quest to be environmentally conscious, requires an e-check. I had two options: 1) drive to Virginia to get said echeck and renew my license plates 2) purchase new Michigan license plates which required me to present the elusive title of my car to the DMV or a third creative option: pitch it to myself as speed control because I didn't want to get pulled over and ticketed for speeding and expired plates. I opted for option 3.

Being a saintly friend, I offered to pick someone up from the airport. As I was waiting, a cop approached my vehicle and informed me that my license plates, were indeed, expired. After a patronizing lecture, he told me he was letting me off easy, gave me what I assumed to be a warning because of the previously quoted statement, and told me to keep the warning in case someone else pulled me over and fix it within ten days. I searched my archives, found the title, applied for registration, and purchased my plates like a responsible citizen. A nuisance, yes, but for a time, all was well between Navs and the DMV.

A month ago, I was once again innocently driving, abiding by the rules of the road, when a cop pulled me over. I was at a stop sign, and even I have difficulty breaking traffic laws at a complete standstill, so I was curious as to the reason. After asking for my license, the cop candidly asked: "Are you aware you are driving under a suspended license and there is a warrant out for your arrest?"

"No officer. Totally unaware."
"Do you remember getting a ticket at the airport last year?"
"Mmmm. I thought that was a warning because he said he was letting me off easy. Could we expand on letting me off easy? And there isn't a price on the ticket, so I didn't know I had to pay anything."
"Well, you did. And you didn't. And your license has been suspended for over a year. Do you have anything illegal in here? If I search your car will I find any drugs or guns?"
"I don't see why that's relevant, but no, you won't."

I'm portraying myself as poised. I was not. I cried a lot. The cop was gracious and didn't take me to jail, although if he had, I could have tried to get a dome mugshot (#domeshot) which would have been a good one for the 'chives. Because of my indiscretion, I had to go to court for driving under a suspended license with a maximum penalty of 90 days in jail. Great blog material, certainly, but also a hindrance on my upcoming start date.

As it played out, the justice system recognized I was not one of the sought-after miscreants, and the charge was reduced to a significantly overpriced parking ticket. Praise be. While this process was encouraging re:the justice system, I still hold the DMV is the most inefficiently run government program when you consider the number of people using it. I get states rights, all you Constitutionalists out there, but really? For instance:

I received a piece of mail stating I did not have a valid license. I tried calling the Secretary of State but literally automated messaged myself in a twenty minute circle in which I ended exactly where I had began. When I went to the DMV, the teller told me that I did have a license, and I didn't have to change it because I was a student, but the state was going to think I didn't have a license and continue sending me notices. How does this make sense? How is this efficient? How is the bettering the life of an American citizen? There are many points of dissension in this country, but can we please agree that this is a ridiculous ploy to generate cash flow under the guise of promoting responsible behavior?

I'm now trying to sell my vehicle, sweet Maleek. However, I realized I never was sent the new title, but merely had the application for the title of the vehicle. So it's sitting in my parents garage, and I never plan on owning a vehicle again. Unless the candidate for 2024 nationalizes the DMV.

Thursday, May 3, 2018

What Grads Don't Talk About

I'm a recent graduate, folks. That's right, Nips Navs is a diploma holding MBA. Not technically - I'm just a candidate, but I'm 98% sure they're going to let me slide. My feed is full of wonderful sentiments from classmates - gratitude for people who have helped us get to where we are, nostalgia and sadness to leave the relationships we've built over the past two years, humility that we are associated with such a group of fine individuals, excitement for what the next stage holds, and of course, six week travel plans.

I echo these sentiments whole heartedly. But there are other sentiments, too.* Perhaps these apply only to me, because while others smoothly transition to the next stage of life, I still need my dad to give me a hug and tell me it's going to be okay. But whatever, maybe they apply to someone else, too.


Logistics. I will know I have succeeded when I have a life assistant to handle all of my personal logistics.** Scheduling the PODS - which, by the way, is a feat of engineering genius - turning off electricity, changing my mailing address, canceling my cable, returning the cable boxes, scheduling flights, shipping clothes to the friend I am going to stay with while looking for an apartment - another logistical nightmare. It's exhausting, and I'll be amazed if everything gets to Seattle in one piece.

Loneliness. It's such a weird, abrupt end. You have this month of intense social interaction with these amazing people, some who, realistically, you may never see again; then, you pack your car and drive away. Go home to people who you'll leave after a brief visit. Stay at my parents large home alone because they're on a trip. I haven't been home alone since high school. I feel like I should throw a rager and try to get away with it, but unfortunately, I no longer have friends in Chardon, or those friends have children, and their days of raging are a thing of the past.

Anyways, loneliness. As I'm making decisions about the next stage of my life - where I want to live, what gym I want to go to, what church I should go to, what activities I should become involved in, I'm making them for myself. This is extremely liberating, but it can also feel lonely. A friend called me out on it the other day. I told him I didn't want to do this alone, and he said, "Anna, I don't know why you think you're alone. Seriously. Why do you think that? Don't you know how many people have your back?" It can be easy to focus on what we don't have rather than what we do.

Anxiety. Honestly, I don't struggle with anxiety about work. After being out of the game for almost three years, I'm genuinely pumped to be thrown in the fire, because I know that's when I grow the most. And idle time clearly causes me to think too much. I don't even have anxiety about meeting people. I'm grateful I already know so many people there, and I have the utmost confidence in my ability to become involved. But if I think beyond the next six months or the next year, I get anxious regarding what it holds and what may be required of me. Hard stop. I remind myself I can't do that, because it's out of my control.

Jealousy. This snuck up on me, because I've never been a jealous person. I think everyone has their own life, each with its struggles and benefits. Besides, let's be honest, my life's been pretty lovely, and I really have no reason to be jealous.

I'm going on a six week trip. Then I'm going to begin a new life that will open so many doors, personally, professionally, and financially. I was talking to my brother, and he mentioned he and his wife were planning a trip to Italy next. And I got jealous. Just for a small second, but I did, because I've always wanted to go Italy, and I've always wanted it to be with someone I loved. That's not okay. I mean - really, Anna? You have literally no right to be jealous of anyone. I shut the voice up, but I'm sorry, Philip. Also, you better be reading my blog, otherwise I'm not sorry.

It's easy to focus on what others have that we don't, even when we have so much. I find having the discipline to not compare myself to others, but rather be content and grateful for everything I have, is a constant exercise, harmful if left neglected.

I recognize I'll work through these thoughts - probably once I don't have so much free time - but I think it's good to acknowledge them before I have completely worked through them, because while my two year time taught me a lot, I still haven't nailed the perfect formula for a flawless transition. I am getting better, though, and I'm sure I'll have another opportunity in the future. Until then, I have to go drop off my cable boxes.

* Which I am partially attributing to the fact that in the past week, I have been to the courtroom twice, graduated, and packed up my life.

** If the life assistant could also be my hypeman/woman, I could kill two birds with one stone.