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 27, 2018
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Tuesday, April 10, 2018
Did I Reach My MBA Goals - and Wrestle Mania
First and foremost, let's talk about Wrestle Mania. I stumbled upon a viewing party last night, and I truly believe that Wrestle Mania is more about who you watch it with than the event itself. But the event is also ridiculous. Some personal viewing highlights and takeaways:
1) The coupe de gras. I don't know what this move is, but it's definitely my fave. I'm going to try to execute some coupes de grases in the next couple months prior to entering the real world.
2) The attire. It's incredible to me that in all the head banging and body slamming, the speedos never move. Really speaks to the costume designers. On that note, Ronda Rousey, while displaying some rookie talent, clearly hasn't figured out the costumes, because she kept having to adjust her apparel, which I believe detracted from her overall performance.
3) Hype men. One wrestler, whose name escapes because there are a lot of names, had a hype team of pancake tossing little people. The words of the announcer: "It's like I just passed out and went to flapjack heaven." What do I need to do to get me one of those? I envision a man, or woman, maybe both, parading before me, chanting "Navs," to the beat of Eye of the Tiger, tossing brownies and miniature bottles of wine to the spectators. This still needs some flushing out. A goal for my next phase of life.
Which brings us to the topic de jour. When I started grad school, I wrote a blog post with six goals. Always one for accountability, the time has come to revisit said goals and assess my success.
1) I'm combining goals 1 and 3, because they are both fulfilled through Follies. Lead a club and do something completely outside my comfort zone. Though I acknowledged my large comfort zone at the time, orchestrating a production was far outside my comfort zone. It stretched me in ways I didn't think business school would stretch me, from creatively writing story lines to maintaining enthusiasm under pressure. My biggest learning moment was when I realized I had disappointed the head writer, because in the mayhem of production, I hadn't communicated effectively. He was quite gracious, but he told me something I will hold onto in the next phase of my illustrious career. It was after a final filming session - one of dozens - when he said: "Anna, what's great about you as a leader is that you're inspirational, and people want to be around you because of your excitement. And last night was the first time I saw you lose that." When everything is moving quickly and you're tired, it can be hard to remember what you bring to the table and execute on it, which this experience made very real to me. Who knew a stupid comedy show could help me grow. I mark goals 1 and 3 as accomplished.
2) Find a mentor. While objectively a failure, I did build relationships with a number of people whose opinion I deeply respect, and a handful of people I can go to with questions in the future whose guidance I will trust. We'll give me half a point. And I'm going to chalk the lack of mentor up to the temporality of the program. I will yet find a mentor!
3) Get involved in a church. Mostly a failure, though not for complete lack of trying. I signed up for a small group, then I had a weekly writing session at the same time. I went to church when in town, but then I was only in town for half the Sundays, and sometimes there were meetings or a Saturday football game or just a late Saturday night. These aren't excuses, but more a reality I recognize and will be more conscious of in my next phase.
4) Make a couple friends who will invite me to their wedding. Since a couple means two, I'm fairly confident I've accomplished that, or at least two friends I will incessantly nag to invite me to their weddings when they come.
5) Squat 190 pounds and do a muscle up. Double fail because I think my squat got worse.
I also happened upon my orientation packet in which I found a chicken scratch sheet of what I saw my career being after school. Some of the characteristics were: Midwest, average work no more than 50 hours/week, small to midsize company, sports. Obviously, Amazon is a natural fit. There were some other criteria, too, though: creatively and analytically challenging, problem solving, passionate about the company and service it provides, agree with the leader's vision.
So grad school didn't turn out the way I expected. It wasn't a path back home. I wasn't as disciplined in some areas that I wanted to be. I failed multiple times. I questioned myself more than I thought I would. But I also learned more about myself than I thought I would. I learned I really do like to lead, even though I still have a lot of room for growth. I learned people will often surprise you if you're willing to look under the surface. I learned there are a lot of different ways to look at problems, whether in the workplace or in the world, and the answers don't have to be mutually exclusive. And I learned that more than anything, I want to be in a place that pushes me to my limits, even if the prospect of entering it alone makes me uncomfortable. Most of all, though, I learned I want to kick some ass. And obviously take over the world. With a hype man.
1) The coupe de gras. I don't know what this move is, but it's definitely my fave. I'm going to try to execute some coupes de grases in the next couple months prior to entering the real world.
2) The attire. It's incredible to me that in all the head banging and body slamming, the speedos never move. Really speaks to the costume designers. On that note, Ronda Rousey, while displaying some rookie talent, clearly hasn't figured out the costumes, because she kept having to adjust her apparel, which I believe detracted from her overall performance.
3) Hype men. One wrestler, whose name escapes because there are a lot of names, had a hype team of pancake tossing little people. The words of the announcer: "It's like I just passed out and went to flapjack heaven." What do I need to do to get me one of those? I envision a man, or woman, maybe both, parading before me, chanting "Navs," to the beat of Eye of the Tiger, tossing brownies and miniature bottles of wine to the spectators. This still needs some flushing out. A goal for my next phase of life.
Which brings us to the topic de jour. When I started grad school, I wrote a blog post with six goals. Always one for accountability, the time has come to revisit said goals and assess my success.
1) I'm combining goals 1 and 3, because they are both fulfilled through Follies. Lead a club and do something completely outside my comfort zone. Though I acknowledged my large comfort zone at the time, orchestrating a production was far outside my comfort zone. It stretched me in ways I didn't think business school would stretch me, from creatively writing story lines to maintaining enthusiasm under pressure. My biggest learning moment was when I realized I had disappointed the head writer, because in the mayhem of production, I hadn't communicated effectively. He was quite gracious, but he told me something I will hold onto in the next phase of my illustrious career. It was after a final filming session - one of dozens - when he said: "Anna, what's great about you as a leader is that you're inspirational, and people want to be around you because of your excitement. And last night was the first time I saw you lose that." When everything is moving quickly and you're tired, it can be hard to remember what you bring to the table and execute on it, which this experience made very real to me. Who knew a stupid comedy show could help me grow. I mark goals 1 and 3 as accomplished.
2) Find a mentor. While objectively a failure, I did build relationships with a number of people whose opinion I deeply respect, and a handful of people I can go to with questions in the future whose guidance I will trust. We'll give me half a point. And I'm going to chalk the lack of mentor up to the temporality of the program. I will yet find a mentor!
3) Get involved in a church. Mostly a failure, though not for complete lack of trying. I signed up for a small group, then I had a weekly writing session at the same time. I went to church when in town, but then I was only in town for half the Sundays, and sometimes there were meetings or a Saturday football game or just a late Saturday night. These aren't excuses, but more a reality I recognize and will be more conscious of in my next phase.
4) Make a couple friends who will invite me to their wedding. Since a couple means two, I'm fairly confident I've accomplished that, or at least two friends I will incessantly nag to invite me to their weddings when they come.
5) Squat 190 pounds and do a muscle up. Double fail because I think my squat got worse.
I also happened upon my orientation packet in which I found a chicken scratch sheet of what I saw my career being after school. Some of the characteristics were: Midwest, average work no more than 50 hours/week, small to midsize company, sports. Obviously, Amazon is a natural fit. There were some other criteria, too, though: creatively and analytically challenging, problem solving, passionate about the company and service it provides, agree with the leader's vision.
So grad school didn't turn out the way I expected. It wasn't a path back home. I wasn't as disciplined in some areas that I wanted to be. I failed multiple times. I questioned myself more than I thought I would. But I also learned more about myself than I thought I would. I learned I really do like to lead, even though I still have a lot of room for growth. I learned people will often surprise you if you're willing to look under the surface. I learned there are a lot of different ways to look at problems, whether in the workplace or in the world, and the answers don't have to be mutually exclusive. And I learned that more than anything, I want to be in a place that pushes me to my limits, even if the prospect of entering it alone makes me uncomfortable. Most of all, though, I learned I want to kick some ass. And obviously take over the world. With a hype man.
Saturday, March 24, 2018
Happy Belated Birthday, Stephen!
Hey there, big bro. It's belated I know, but I'm still in your birth month, so I hope you forgive my tardiness. I've never missed a birthday post, and I'm not about to start now.
In less than five weeks, I'll be finished with grad school. The conversation de jour among the second years has shifted to post grad travel plans. "Where are you going?" "Starting in Japan, Australia, then Italy and Germany, back to Indonesia, over to Cape Town, then up to Iceland. I'm trying to get to 30 countries. I might squeeze in Istanbul, but I'm not sure if that's practical." "Yea, that totally makes sense. I mean, we're young and are about to be going to jobs that give us plenty of disposable income, but we're never going to get another opportunity to travel." "Are you going to be in Tokyo?... O really, us too, we should definitely meet up." "For sure. We'll be working at the same company, but we'll probably never see each other after this." "I have a six hour layover in Hong Kong. What should I do?" You should sleep, ya idiot. It's only six hours. Don't get me wrong, I'm traveling, too. Japan, Thailand for the third time in three years which seems excessive, New Zealand to meet our sweet baby niece, and Australia. The pure absurdity of it all, however, does not escape me.
Speaking of absurdity, let me tell you about my week. I have class for an hour and a half Monday and Wednesday, and class for two hours Tuesday and Thursday. I don't need them, but I need a reason to get out of bed in the morning, and the Marketing Engineering professor is just the cutest, self-deprecating nerd with a dry sense of humor, so I couldn't drop the class. What do I do with the rest of my time? Monday was Columbian movie night, Tuesday I had to choose between game night and broomball league, but my loyalty to my undefeated team obliged me to choose the latter, Wednesday was Mario Cart and a friend's birthday. And last night, we took a party bus to watch the Redwings game, passing all the suckers with full time jobs on our way. I also experimented with rock climbing.
I was a bit productive. Despite my deep disdain for logistics, I have my move to Seattle in order. I'm going to move in June, and I'll be staying with an old friend until I find a place. Old friends are the best. Now, I just have to find a place to live. I also looked into getting extra pages for my passport. That hasn't been allowed since 2016 which I find silly. I have to get a whole new passport, which seems like a lot of work, so we're going to assume any subsequent stamps will fit on one page. Hopefully the Japanese stamp isn't obscenely large.
I've been working through some stuff, too. I know, I know. My life is unrealistically easy, so what could I possibly have to work through? Turns out, more than I realized. Remember when I started working at VividCortex? I was at startup, we were going to raise a Series A, I was going to grow with the company. I was excited. Then, without warning, we failed to raise the Series A, and my boss left. My stability was shaken.
This year, after unexpectedly getting a job first quarter, I was excited. I was going to cruise through second year, spending Wednesdays at Alley Bar, experimenting with various new forms of fitness, finally catching up with pop culture and watching Game of Thrones.* Then, without warning, my stability was shaken.
What do you do when your stability's shaken? Who do you look to? In both cases, at first, I stubbornly looked to myself. I told myself I could push through it. I could figure it out. I went to the Big Guy on occasion, but not really. If I'm totally honest, I was mad at Him. I was mad that He interrupted my life. That I had to go through something hard. And that I had to do it alone. Again. For the love of God, could I just have a partner with me one time?
The first couple months after my boss left were really hard. Then I gave the situation to God, recognizing that my way of handling it was clearly ineffective. He worked it out in a way I could not have written better myself. I mean, it's a Friday, and I've already had brunch with one friend, coffee with another, and am killing time before happy hour. I'm at the *now number 7* MBA program in the country and beginning my world takeover in July.
So, why, when I was shaken this fall, did I not look immediately to God? Why do I find it so difficult to trust Him with absolutely every aspect of my life? It's partly pride. It's partly fear of what He may require of me. It's definitely selfishness. So I"m working on trusting Him, resting in Him, and letting go of the things I cannot control. Sometimes I get annoyed with my lack of progress and the fact that I find myself making the same mistakes time and time again. Then I remember that it is a continual refining process that won't be complete until we meet face to face.
I also realize that while sometimes I think that because I'm single, I'm alone, that's simply not the case. Throughout the last five months, there have been so many people that have made me laugh, reached out to offer comfort, and built friendships that will last far beyond this sweet little grad school bubble. And for all the mocking, it really is crazy that you can build such strong bonds over such a short amount of time. I can only imagine the amazing people you've met up there, but, Stephen, there's some pretty amazing people down here, too.
Lovely catching up, as always, and if you could tell the Big Guy that Ann Arbor is more than ready for spring to come, we'd all greatly appreciate it.
In less than five weeks, I'll be finished with grad school. The conversation de jour among the second years has shifted to post grad travel plans. "Where are you going?" "Starting in Japan, Australia, then Italy and Germany, back to Indonesia, over to Cape Town, then up to Iceland. I'm trying to get to 30 countries. I might squeeze in Istanbul, but I'm not sure if that's practical." "Yea, that totally makes sense. I mean, we're young and are about to be going to jobs that give us plenty of disposable income, but we're never going to get another opportunity to travel." "Are you going to be in Tokyo?... O really, us too, we should definitely meet up." "For sure. We'll be working at the same company, but we'll probably never see each other after this." "I have a six hour layover in Hong Kong. What should I do?" You should sleep, ya idiot. It's only six hours. Don't get me wrong, I'm traveling, too. Japan, Thailand for the third time in three years which seems excessive, New Zealand to meet our sweet baby niece, and Australia. The pure absurdity of it all, however, does not escape me.
Speaking of absurdity, let me tell you about my week. I have class for an hour and a half Monday and Wednesday, and class for two hours Tuesday and Thursday. I don't need them, but I need a reason to get out of bed in the morning, and the Marketing Engineering professor is just the cutest, self-deprecating nerd with a dry sense of humor, so I couldn't drop the class. What do I do with the rest of my time? Monday was Columbian movie night, Tuesday I had to choose between game night and broomball league, but my loyalty to my undefeated team obliged me to choose the latter, Wednesday was Mario Cart and a friend's birthday. And last night, we took a party bus to watch the Redwings game, passing all the suckers with full time jobs on our way. I also experimented with rock climbing.
I was a bit productive. Despite my deep disdain for logistics, I have my move to Seattle in order. I'm going to move in June, and I'll be staying with an old friend until I find a place. Old friends are the best. Now, I just have to find a place to live. I also looked into getting extra pages for my passport. That hasn't been allowed since 2016 which I find silly. I have to get a whole new passport, which seems like a lot of work, so we're going to assume any subsequent stamps will fit on one page. Hopefully the Japanese stamp isn't obscenely large.
I've been working through some stuff, too. I know, I know. My life is unrealistically easy, so what could I possibly have to work through? Turns out, more than I realized. Remember when I started working at VividCortex? I was at startup, we were going to raise a Series A, I was going to grow with the company. I was excited. Then, without warning, we failed to raise the Series A, and my boss left. My stability was shaken.
This year, after unexpectedly getting a job first quarter, I was excited. I was going to cruise through second year, spending Wednesdays at Alley Bar, experimenting with various new forms of fitness, finally catching up with pop culture and watching Game of Thrones.* Then, without warning, my stability was shaken.
What do you do when your stability's shaken? Who do you look to? In both cases, at first, I stubbornly looked to myself. I told myself I could push through it. I could figure it out. I went to the Big Guy on occasion, but not really. If I'm totally honest, I was mad at Him. I was mad that He interrupted my life. That I had to go through something hard. And that I had to do it alone. Again. For the love of God, could I just have a partner with me one time?
The first couple months after my boss left were really hard. Then I gave the situation to God, recognizing that my way of handling it was clearly ineffective. He worked it out in a way I could not have written better myself. I mean, it's a Friday, and I've already had brunch with one friend, coffee with another, and am killing time before happy hour. I'm at the *now number 7* MBA program in the country and beginning my world takeover in July.
So, why, when I was shaken this fall, did I not look immediately to God? Why do I find it so difficult to trust Him with absolutely every aspect of my life? It's partly pride. It's partly fear of what He may require of me. It's definitely selfishness. So I"m working on trusting Him, resting in Him, and letting go of the things I cannot control. Sometimes I get annoyed with my lack of progress and the fact that I find myself making the same mistakes time and time again. Then I remember that it is a continual refining process that won't be complete until we meet face to face.
I also realize that while sometimes I think that because I'm single, I'm alone, that's simply not the case. Throughout the last five months, there have been so many people that have made me laugh, reached out to offer comfort, and built friendships that will last far beyond this sweet little grad school bubble. And for all the mocking, it really is crazy that you can build such strong bonds over such a short amount of time. I can only imagine the amazing people you've met up there, but, Stephen, there's some pretty amazing people down here, too.
Lovely catching up, as always, and if you could tell the Big Guy that Ann Arbor is more than ready for spring to come, we'd all greatly appreciate it.
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