Happy Monday, my sweet friend. I've been meaning to write for some time now. After all, my year anniversary with Seattle has come and gone, and I need to reflect. How have I tracked against my goals? What have I learned? How have I grown? What's next? There's always a next, but first, here's a recap.
I did lock myself out of the apartment. However, I beat the over under of seven months and made it over a year, which I count as a win. I also managed to keep my high school nickname a secret for over six months, and even now, only three carefully selected individuals know the humiliating story. I'm definitely a connector, and I consistently tell my friends they're in a rough spot if I ever find a significant other to take trips with me.* And OMG - I found friends with boats!! Or at least friends with friends who have boats. Regardless, boats are in my life on a semi-regular cadence.
I fell on my face. Literally. One of my sister's friends recently got married. The two of them worked together prior to dating, and one of their earlier interactions was lip syncing at the holiday party. What a cute story. This year, I too participated in a holiday lip syncing contest, but instead of meeting my soul mate, I did a back flip in a conference room with no gymnastics experience and ended up with a massively bloody nose. The whole scenario seems on brand.
Y'all. I got myself a mentor. Arguably, I got myself three mentors. Not all of them are aware, however. The covert adoption went something like this: "Yes, Anna, you should discuss this with your mentor." "Okay, great, so I'm going to discuss it with you. Thanks."
I climbed a mountain. Of course, in true Anna fashion, I turned to my co-worker the day before I left and said, "Do I really need all the gear on this list?" He took pity on me and let me borrow his gear rather than being taken advantage by REI. When my friends picked me up the next morning, they were surprised I actually came at 5 AM. But I did. We hiked to the base camp of Mt Baker, and I spent the evening watching the sun set above the clouds surrounded by majestic mountain peaks. We woke up at 1 AM, hiked six hours to the summit, and breathed the fresh air of accomplishment. Then we hiked back down to base camp, packed our tents, and returned to civilization, breathing in the occasional stale stench of heated crap, because apparently, you have to go to the bathroom in a bag and bring that bag back down the mountain. I'm all about conserving the environment, but this was an aspect of camping I was not aware of prior to this trip. It was worth it, and the guides awarded me the best mountain sleeper of all time. I snored. I snored a lot.
I popped a cyst. Imagine the worst pimple in high school; multiply it by 1000. The pain, the satisfaction, the projectile puss, the whole thing. I believe it was my body rejecting bras, as the cyst was directly where those pesty wires rest. Of all the liberal tenets, the one I can shamelessly support is no bras, as is evidenced by my high school nick name. Alas, of all the liberal tenets, this could be the last to be implemented.
I got the job. The one that had me in an existential frenzy. I had a meeting with the person who interviewed me at what I thought was my worst. I asked him if it was 4 against 1, and if he had said no. He assured me he hadn't. I was confused. I started last week, exactly one year after I started at Amazon.
I've been on so many trips with friends old and new. I built a church community and a Crossfit community - both of which consistently challenge and push me. I found a manager who wants me to succeed and a team that believes I can.
All that's easy to talk about, because it's funny, or silly, or downright impressive. I mean, heck, I climbed a mountain. In my new role, I'm going to be interfacing with VPs at one of the most powerful companies in the world. But life can still be hard, and there's been plenty of hard. I'm so grateful for the doors that have opened, but a number of doors have closed, too. I still can't seem to get dating down, no matter how I approach it, and I struggle with being a single, successful woman. What is my response when a coworker jokes that my dating life could be more successful if I kept my opinions to myself? I struggle with anxiety. I still don't like change. Yet, I seem to experience a lot of change on my own volition. My heart still aches for my family.
So I'm working through some things. I quit drinking. And by quit, I mean I haven't had a drink yet today. I think this stint will be for a little while, though. At least a week. I'm seeking out a single, female mentor to add to my repertoire. I'm considering therapy, but I am terrible at making appointments, so I give that a 40/60 odds. I'm trying to look to God, rest in Him, and seek His kingdom above all else.
I've been thinking about time, and how God's concept of time is completely different than my own. Hanging by my door is a picture I bought in Thailand. A girl is peering into the distance, a beautiful horizon full of color and unknown promise. I met a man at the airport recently. He's moving his wife and two kids, ages 11 and 12, to France to be a wine maker at Chateau Margaeux. His flight was in three days, they had sold everything, and he was anxiously awaiting his visa from the Counselate. In those hard moments, when I question God, when I yell at Him, when I cry to Him, I remind myself that life is this beautiful tapestry of grace woven by the most caring, intricate artist, and time will only tell how He paints that mysterious horizon.
*Though let's be honest, I'd probably get bored with only one other person.
Tuesday, August 13, 2019
Wednesday, June 5, 2019
What's Hard about Amazon
Hi Stephen. I'm sorry it's been so long. I've had a blog for seven years, and every year, I've spoken to you on your birthday. My tardiness is inexcusable, but I always come to you to talk - especially in my angsty teenage days. I'm no longer angsty, but I still think about you, and our family. I was talking about us at a work event today, and I told everyone I had five siblings, one who passed before his time. I'm sure you're doing very exciting things in Heaven, but I still like to think that you have an ear when I'm talking to you. I remember that because of your suffering, and the suffering of our parents, I'm blessed to be alive, and I don't take that for granted.
I've struggled in many areas of my life, rejection and loneliness being the ones that come to mind. But I've never struggled with imposter syndrome. Frankly, I hate the term, because it's a buzz word, and you know how I feel about buzz words. Yes, I got rejected from Harvard, but who cares. Probably not my scene, anyways. I didn't get the internship at Land O Lakes, but while their butter contributes to an indulgent chocolate chip cookie, it definitely wasn't my jam. I've always been smart. Academics have never been difficult, and even in business school, I was completely comfortable with what I could contribute.
Then I came to Amazon. The first six months were fine - after all, you have a learning curve, and everyone accepts that. Even you. Then you think about what's next. How am I adding value, and how am I contributing? You sit in a meeting and hear the person who could sell a ketchup popsicle to a lady wearing white gloves*, or the individual who uses five syllable words to explain a simple problem. A room where everyone is vying to prove their value.
You know how much I love family, and that if I could paint a picture of my life, it would involve Sunday dinners with everyone. While I know that that life isn't perfect, it's what I envisioned for so long. When I entered grad school, I told myself I was going to return to Cleveland, and I definitely wasn't going to the West Coast. Even right now, I'm looking at my parent's Christmas card on my fridge which is a picture of them with all our nieces and nephews, and I miss them. I miss them so much it hurts sometimes, and I don't think that will stop.
But here I am. The past couple months have been really hard. Harder than I'd like to admit for a variety of reasons. I say all this with the caveat that I know I am blessed. As Dad reminds me, "you're playing ping pong and making more money than many will ever make." I spend weekends in the mountains, enjoy indulgent meals, lay on my couch at 11 AM on a Saturday without a care in the world. I'm not writing this to elicit pity, but I believe it's valuable to acknowledge that despite the facade one can easily portray, life is hard. With that, I continue.
I don't want to define myself by my work, and at the same time, the reason I came to Seattle is for my work.
I interviewed this week for another role within the company. The first interview question was what did you do to influence a department.
Me: "Well, I was a one person marketing department at a startup. I had an idea. I told myself about the idea in a meeting with myself, and I agreed with me." Obviously, this is not surprising to the readership, because I talk to myself often. Of course, I went on to say how I influenced the startup, but I'm talking to the person who influenced the entire Best Buy organization. Or the entire P&G organization. Or the entire Amazon organization. What do I have to offer? Why am I valuable? What have I actually done? Do I belong here? Am I an imposter? Will the name really change to Annazon?
Then I hear another voice. It's easy to ignore, and it's easy to drown out, but it's the most powerful voice there is. It's the small, quiet voice, that says, "The race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, nor bread to the wise, nor riches to men of understanding, nor favor to men of skill; but time and chance happen to them all."
The week before I started at Amazon, I read the story of Esther. It is a story of a woman who rose above the rest because she did not rely on her own ability, but rather, the unmerited favor of the Lord. She was undeserving, and a beautiful picture of humility, and because of that, she came to a power of authority that was able to positively influence those around her.
I don't believe I'm Esther, but I've been thinking a lot about the Lord lately, my relationship with Him, and how that relationship influences my attitude towards work. I put a lot of pressure on myself and on God, especially in work. I think, God, I came all this way, I've sacrificed so much, so what are You are going to do with me? How are You going to use me?
And that thought isn't terribly misguided, but it's selfish. Because at the end of the day, if the only reason He brought me to Seattle, or the only reason He gave me life, is to draw me closer to Him, and to build my relationship with Him, my life is a beautiful success. Regardless of where my career goes. In the mean time, He put me in a place where I am able to learn from the people who influenced Best Buy, P&G, Amazon.** How cool is that?
I don't know if I received the job. I give it a 50/50 shot. The first three interviews were questionable, and the last two were pretty solid. One of my interviews was done over a thirty minute fire drill. When the man complimented me on my composure, I told him I grew up with a loud, Polish family, so I was used to speaking over noise. Stephen, my family, including you, will always be the center of my life, next to God, no matter where I am. I love you. And I miss you. I'm so glad we have this family that is strong, and I still hope you're proud of me, Big Brother.
* I don't why I love that idiom so much, but I do.
** He also gave me the gift of wine.
I've struggled in many areas of my life, rejection and loneliness being the ones that come to mind. But I've never struggled with imposter syndrome. Frankly, I hate the term, because it's a buzz word, and you know how I feel about buzz words. Yes, I got rejected from Harvard, but who cares. Probably not my scene, anyways. I didn't get the internship at Land O Lakes, but while their butter contributes to an indulgent chocolate chip cookie, it definitely wasn't my jam. I've always been smart. Academics have never been difficult, and even in business school, I was completely comfortable with what I could contribute.
Then I came to Amazon. The first six months were fine - after all, you have a learning curve, and everyone accepts that. Even you. Then you think about what's next. How am I adding value, and how am I contributing? You sit in a meeting and hear the person who could sell a ketchup popsicle to a lady wearing white gloves*, or the individual who uses five syllable words to explain a simple problem. A room where everyone is vying to prove their value.
You know how much I love family, and that if I could paint a picture of my life, it would involve Sunday dinners with everyone. While I know that that life isn't perfect, it's what I envisioned for so long. When I entered grad school, I told myself I was going to return to Cleveland, and I definitely wasn't going to the West Coast. Even right now, I'm looking at my parent's Christmas card on my fridge which is a picture of them with all our nieces and nephews, and I miss them. I miss them so much it hurts sometimes, and I don't think that will stop.
But here I am. The past couple months have been really hard. Harder than I'd like to admit for a variety of reasons. I say all this with the caveat that I know I am blessed. As Dad reminds me, "you're playing ping pong and making more money than many will ever make." I spend weekends in the mountains, enjoy indulgent meals, lay on my couch at 11 AM on a Saturday without a care in the world. I'm not writing this to elicit pity, but I believe it's valuable to acknowledge that despite the facade one can easily portray, life is hard. With that, I continue.
I don't want to define myself by my work, and at the same time, the reason I came to Seattle is for my work.
I interviewed this week for another role within the company. The first interview question was what did you do to influence a department.
Me: "Well, I was a one person marketing department at a startup. I had an idea. I told myself about the idea in a meeting with myself, and I agreed with me." Obviously, this is not surprising to the readership, because I talk to myself often. Of course, I went on to say how I influenced the startup, but I'm talking to the person who influenced the entire Best Buy organization. Or the entire P&G organization. Or the entire Amazon organization. What do I have to offer? Why am I valuable? What have I actually done? Do I belong here? Am I an imposter? Will the name really change to Annazon?
Then I hear another voice. It's easy to ignore, and it's easy to drown out, but it's the most powerful voice there is. It's the small, quiet voice, that says, "The race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, nor bread to the wise, nor riches to men of understanding, nor favor to men of skill; but time and chance happen to them all."
The week before I started at Amazon, I read the story of Esther. It is a story of a woman who rose above the rest because she did not rely on her own ability, but rather, the unmerited favor of the Lord. She was undeserving, and a beautiful picture of humility, and because of that, she came to a power of authority that was able to positively influence those around her.
I don't believe I'm Esther, but I've been thinking a lot about the Lord lately, my relationship with Him, and how that relationship influences my attitude towards work. I put a lot of pressure on myself and on God, especially in work. I think, God, I came all this way, I've sacrificed so much, so what are You are going to do with me? How are You going to use me?
And that thought isn't terribly misguided, but it's selfish. Because at the end of the day, if the only reason He brought me to Seattle, or the only reason He gave me life, is to draw me closer to Him, and to build my relationship with Him, my life is a beautiful success. Regardless of where my career goes. In the mean time, He put me in a place where I am able to learn from the people who influenced Best Buy, P&G, Amazon.** How cool is that?
I don't know if I received the job. I give it a 50/50 shot. The first three interviews were questionable, and the last two were pretty solid. One of my interviews was done over a thirty minute fire drill. When the man complimented me on my composure, I told him I grew up with a loud, Polish family, so I was used to speaking over noise. Stephen, my family, including you, will always be the center of my life, next to God, no matter where I am. I love you. And I miss you. I'm so glad we have this family that is strong, and I still hope you're proud of me, Big Brother.
* I don't why I love that idiom so much, but I do.
** He also gave me the gift of wine.
Wednesday, May 15, 2019
The Magic of Music
"Come with me," he said. I was walking home from a Tuesday night waitressing shift, sweaty and exhausted. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. I had moved to Charlottesville two years before, and I was supposed to love my job, thrive, find someone, and pave a very clear path to my illustrious future. Instead, I had left my job because I wasn't challenged, and I had started working at a local restaurant. The hours were long, my feet were tired, and I wondered what I was doing with this love I had for working hard and creating.
The bartender was eccentric. He was magnetic, sarcastic, and had all the wisdom and charm that came with years of bartending across states, cities, and locales. He had stories for days, and a dangerous ability to mix one drink that would make you question your tolerance. He was the man who saw me breaking down in the alley behind the restaurant and told me that no one and nothing deserved my tears. More importantly, though, he had the key to get to the front row. He was having a smoke as I walked by. Though I was hesitant at first, it's not hard to convince me to sneak into a show, even if I've never heard a song from the band.
"Follow me," he said, as he grabbed three beers. One for me, one for him, and one for the bouncer keeping hooligans from creeping to the front. It was surprisingly easy, though. He gave the beer to the bouncer, wiggled his way through a person or two, and there we were. Front row. Watching artists play with all their heart, immersed in the moment. A weight was lifted. I wasn't worried about the future, where I would be in ten years, or what I would do. For two hours, we jumped, we danced, we shouted, we were transported to another world.
I've been to countless shows over the years, and after that concert, I never listened to Mute Math again. But it was magical. Music has this mysterious power to melt away every little thought on the back of your mind and make you ecstatic about both the present and the prospects of the future.
I haven't written in awhile, and I want you to know I think about you all the time. Every day, really. A silly thought comes to mind, and I know you'd laugh. But every time I sit down to write, I just can't do it. I used to write about things like the number of burger combinations you could create at Boylan Heights or which fruit each month would be. Then I took a job at a startup. I studied for the GMAT, applied to grad school, travelled, got an internship, got a job. What fantastic material to include in a blog. What now?
It's real life. I don't have a momentous update. I go to work every day. I may go to a happy hour, and then I come home. I'm still single. I haven't gotten a dog. What next?
For starters, I'm learning patience.
With myself. There are so many aspects I know I can improve, but I'm continually learning to appreciate that one fault I've tempered, that one area I've grown.
With others. People have different priorities at different stages in life, and just because you aren't at the top of their priority list now doesn't mean they wouldn't drop everything if they knew you really needed them.
With dating. I went on a really great couple dates with a guy who checked the proverbial boxes. Then, he faded, and for probably the first time, it didn't affect me. After years, I have reached the point that if a guy isn't itching to see me at the beginning, he's not worth my mental space. That's a bigger step than I'd like to admit.
With God. This is always the hardest, but all I have to do is look at my life between that concert and now to know that He has this really neat plan for my life that I couldn't paint if I tried.
Real life definitely has its perks. A consistent paycheck is one of them. Weekends are another, and I've been using every chance I can to explore the beauty of this part of the country and spending time with the wonderful people I'm blessed to call friends.
I went to a weekday concert the other night for the first time in Seattle. Passion Pit at the Sodo Showbox. I'm at a very different stage. I have an MBA, a job in which I can make an impact, however small, adult furniture. But I'd be lying if I said those thoughts from years ago don't still creep from time to time. What's next? What is the most valuable thing I could be doing? How do I grow the most? How do I make the biggest impact? Will I ever be near family? Will I find someone?*
We weren't in the front row, but the energy was vibrant. Somewhere in the middle of 'Take a Walk', as I jumped around, in what I'm sure was rhythmless dance, and bumped into the children making out next to me, all those questions melted away, and I remembered the pure magic of music.
The only difference was, I woke up real tired the next morning.
*I hate saying that's a thought, but it is, so screw it, I gotta say it.
The bartender was eccentric. He was magnetic, sarcastic, and had all the wisdom and charm that came with years of bartending across states, cities, and locales. He had stories for days, and a dangerous ability to mix one drink that would make you question your tolerance. He was the man who saw me breaking down in the alley behind the restaurant and told me that no one and nothing deserved my tears. More importantly, though, he had the key to get to the front row. He was having a smoke as I walked by. Though I was hesitant at first, it's not hard to convince me to sneak into a show, even if I've never heard a song from the band.
"Follow me," he said, as he grabbed three beers. One for me, one for him, and one for the bouncer keeping hooligans from creeping to the front. It was surprisingly easy, though. He gave the beer to the bouncer, wiggled his way through a person or two, and there we were. Front row. Watching artists play with all their heart, immersed in the moment. A weight was lifted. I wasn't worried about the future, where I would be in ten years, or what I would do. For two hours, we jumped, we danced, we shouted, we were transported to another world.
I've been to countless shows over the years, and after that concert, I never listened to Mute Math again. But it was magical. Music has this mysterious power to melt away every little thought on the back of your mind and make you ecstatic about both the present and the prospects of the future.
I haven't written in awhile, and I want you to know I think about you all the time. Every day, really. A silly thought comes to mind, and I know you'd laugh. But every time I sit down to write, I just can't do it. I used to write about things like the number of burger combinations you could create at Boylan Heights or which fruit each month would be. Then I took a job at a startup. I studied for the GMAT, applied to grad school, travelled, got an internship, got a job. What fantastic material to include in a blog. What now?
It's real life. I don't have a momentous update. I go to work every day. I may go to a happy hour, and then I come home. I'm still single. I haven't gotten a dog. What next?
For starters, I'm learning patience.
With myself. There are so many aspects I know I can improve, but I'm continually learning to appreciate that one fault I've tempered, that one area I've grown.
With others. People have different priorities at different stages in life, and just because you aren't at the top of their priority list now doesn't mean they wouldn't drop everything if they knew you really needed them.
With dating. I went on a really great couple dates with a guy who checked the proverbial boxes. Then, he faded, and for probably the first time, it didn't affect me. After years, I have reached the point that if a guy isn't itching to see me at the beginning, he's not worth my mental space. That's a bigger step than I'd like to admit.
With God. This is always the hardest, but all I have to do is look at my life between that concert and now to know that He has this really neat plan for my life that I couldn't paint if I tried.
Real life definitely has its perks. A consistent paycheck is one of them. Weekends are another, and I've been using every chance I can to explore the beauty of this part of the country and spending time with the wonderful people I'm blessed to call friends.
I went to a weekday concert the other night for the first time in Seattle. Passion Pit at the Sodo Showbox. I'm at a very different stage. I have an MBA, a job in which I can make an impact, however small, adult furniture. But I'd be lying if I said those thoughts from years ago don't still creep from time to time. What's next? What is the most valuable thing I could be doing? How do I grow the most? How do I make the biggest impact? Will I ever be near family? Will I find someone?*
We weren't in the front row, but the energy was vibrant. Somewhere in the middle of 'Take a Walk', as I jumped around, in what I'm sure was rhythmless dance, and bumped into the children making out next to me, all those questions melted away, and I remembered the pure magic of music.
The only difference was, I woke up real tired the next morning.
*I hate saying that's a thought, but it is, so screw it, I gotta say it.
Sunday, January 6, 2019
To 2019: The Year of Ana
The first weekend of 2019! It's Sunday morning, the sun has yet to rise, and I am nearly recovered from the holidays. They were wonderful. I spent Christmas with my sister and her family in Jamaica* and New Years in Charlottesville. It was lovely to catch up with old friends, meeting new babies and fiances, getting tours of new homes, dancing, laughing. I cherished every second. The best part, though, was, I didn't miss any of it in the way I normally do, and I was excited to come back. For someone who cares deeply about home, my favorite part of 2018 is that after a short time, I'm happy to call Seattle home. Additionally, my high school nick name is still a secret, I have yet to lock myself out of my apartment, and after the re-branding to Ana is complete, the company name can be changed to either Annazon or Amazana. We cannot rest on these laurels, though. We must look forward to 2019, and with that, here are some goals:
1. Moonlight. By contract, I'm not allowed to have a second source of income, so this will be pro bono. Office ping pong lessons. I already have one client, and it's great. I feel like I'm teaching tennis again, running drills: "crosscourt, crosscourt, down the line. Now go for the kill!" I'm currently accepting students for spring sessions.
2. Ride the bus. Not the drinking game. The actual bus. When the commute is over a mile, I default to Lyft, because it's easy and saves a bit of time. Plus, after mastering the New York subway, I'm slightly intimidated by the bus system. However, I don't need to spend ten dollars to get somewhere when I could get there for free. This resolution began yesterday. The bus was an eclectic bunch, and when a group of lively elderly folks hopped on, the guy beside me informed me he "had too many mushrooms for this bus ride." To which I responded, "Or maybe, it was the perfect amount." We were both going to watch the Seahawks, though he's been on too many hallucinogens this year to follow the team. He told of the merits of DMX - or DSW - or some acronym with a D. Apparently, it was the drug Moses was smoking (consuming?) on the top of the mountain when he brought down the Ten Commandments, and the drug our body ejects as we die which causes people who are revived to reference an out-of-body experience. He suggested I try. I laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation. He gave me his number. And there's my dating update, everyone. I'm pumped to ride the bus; I think I'll get some great material.
3. Don't look at page views of my blog posts. It's easy to do, especially since my default page is the stats page, but I find it affects my perception of what I wrote. For inquiring minds, blogs about dates get a lot more page views. I'm not writing this for anyone else, though. I'm writing for myself - and for the entire world when I eventually turn all these musings into a book.
4. Protest. Seems like the Seattle thing to do. My feud with Whole Foods rages on, so I think they will be my target despite the association with my current employer. The first time I didn't receive a bag with a handle, I excused it as poor operational efficiency. Little did I know it was part of a grander scheme to remove all handles from bags in the express lanes. I know what you're thinking: don't use the express lanes when your cart has fifty items or bring your own recyclable bags. That's not the point. The point is, if you are going to charge me $5/apple, then I want handles on every side of the bag. I want handles in places I didn't even know there could be handles. Even Walgreens has handles on its bags, but Whole Foods is trying to save fractions of a penny by removing handles in a store location that serves people in downtown Seattle, the majority of whom have to walk back to their homes, cradling their bags as if they were babies. My sign's going to read, "This sign would be a lot more difficult to hold without a handle."
5. Swipe less. Up, down, left, right. I find my phone is often a means to pass idle time in a completely unproductive manner, and while I love a good barstoolsports humiliating video, it adds very little to my life. I think there is something to be said for the ability to be quiet and still, without any sort of stimulation. Plus, I have plenty of thoughts to occupy that time.
6. Create Anna's favorite things. Amazon has a featured section called Oprah's favorite things. How is Oprah's opinion still relevant? In the past twenty years, has no one been able to establish a more credible sense of taste than Oprah? Maybe she was relevant during the cupcake craze of '05, but come on. Even that I find hard to believe, because I could have told you cupcakes were good when I was ten. Then Oprah says, "the ratio of icing to cake is appropriate (duh) and people believe she's discovered something revolutionary."
To her credit, she's clearly very good at branding, and could I do much better? Let's try. Anna's favorite things of 2018:
Jane the Virgin. A melodramatic telenovela that invokes fantasies of beautiful Latin American men.
Magnificent Mrs. Maisel. A smart, fun, empowering Prime original that invokes fantasies of starting my career as a comedian who makes smart quips about dating and corporate America.
Ballers. Sex and the City for men that invokes fantasies of being an athlete.
Okay. Clearly, this is just going to be a list of my Netflix binge queue. I have a newfound respect for Oprah. Maybe she does deserve a magazine with her face on the cover every month. But seriously, how many magazine cover poses does one woman have? New life goal: I begin a magazine called the Dome with a different dome pic every month.
7. Stop telling myself I'm going to floss. I'm not a flosser. I need to accept that.
8. Finally, be brave. I participated in this personal branding workshop at the end of my time at Ross, and you had to choose three words you wanted to described you. Honestly, I forget the other two at the moment, but I remember brave. There are different levels of brave, and honestly, I don't think everything society calls brave is brave. For instance, face planting while attempting a backflip in a conference room could be considered unbridled bravery or utter stupidity - it's all about framing. There are constructive forms of bravery, though. The bravery to discuss taboo topics, to confront your own issues, to create original solutions, to love radically, whether or not that is reciprocated, to trust and hope continually. In a position where it is easy to be comfortable, it is those who are brave enough to choose discomfort that affect growth. Cheers to 2019, y'all! As always, let's kick some ass.
* No, I didn't get tan.
1. Moonlight. By contract, I'm not allowed to have a second source of income, so this will be pro bono. Office ping pong lessons. I already have one client, and it's great. I feel like I'm teaching tennis again, running drills: "crosscourt, crosscourt, down the line. Now go for the kill!" I'm currently accepting students for spring sessions.
2. Ride the bus. Not the drinking game. The actual bus. When the commute is over a mile, I default to Lyft, because it's easy and saves a bit of time. Plus, after mastering the New York subway, I'm slightly intimidated by the bus system. However, I don't need to spend ten dollars to get somewhere when I could get there for free. This resolution began yesterday. The bus was an eclectic bunch, and when a group of lively elderly folks hopped on, the guy beside me informed me he "had too many mushrooms for this bus ride." To which I responded, "Or maybe, it was the perfect amount." We were both going to watch the Seahawks, though he's been on too many hallucinogens this year to follow the team. He told of the merits of DMX - or DSW - or some acronym with a D. Apparently, it was the drug Moses was smoking (consuming?) on the top of the mountain when he brought down the Ten Commandments, and the drug our body ejects as we die which causes people who are revived to reference an out-of-body experience. He suggested I try. I laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation. He gave me his number. And there's my dating update, everyone. I'm pumped to ride the bus; I think I'll get some great material.
3. Don't look at page views of my blog posts. It's easy to do, especially since my default page is the stats page, but I find it affects my perception of what I wrote. For inquiring minds, blogs about dates get a lot more page views. I'm not writing this for anyone else, though. I'm writing for myself - and for the entire world when I eventually turn all these musings into a book.
4. Protest. Seems like the Seattle thing to do. My feud with Whole Foods rages on, so I think they will be my target despite the association with my current employer. The first time I didn't receive a bag with a handle, I excused it as poor operational efficiency. Little did I know it was part of a grander scheme to remove all handles from bags in the express lanes. I know what you're thinking: don't use the express lanes when your cart has fifty items or bring your own recyclable bags. That's not the point. The point is, if you are going to charge me $5/apple, then I want handles on every side of the bag. I want handles in places I didn't even know there could be handles. Even Walgreens has handles on its bags, but Whole Foods is trying to save fractions of a penny by removing handles in a store location that serves people in downtown Seattle, the majority of whom have to walk back to their homes, cradling their bags as if they were babies. My sign's going to read, "This sign would be a lot more difficult to hold without a handle."
5. Swipe less. Up, down, left, right. I find my phone is often a means to pass idle time in a completely unproductive manner, and while I love a good barstoolsports humiliating video, it adds very little to my life. I think there is something to be said for the ability to be quiet and still, without any sort of stimulation. Plus, I have plenty of thoughts to occupy that time.
6. Create Anna's favorite things. Amazon has a featured section called Oprah's favorite things. How is Oprah's opinion still relevant? In the past twenty years, has no one been able to establish a more credible sense of taste than Oprah? Maybe she was relevant during the cupcake craze of '05, but come on. Even that I find hard to believe, because I could have told you cupcakes were good when I was ten. Then Oprah says, "the ratio of icing to cake is appropriate (duh) and people believe she's discovered something revolutionary."
To her credit, she's clearly very good at branding, and could I do much better? Let's try. Anna's favorite things of 2018:
Jane the Virgin. A melodramatic telenovela that invokes fantasies of beautiful Latin American men.
Magnificent Mrs. Maisel. A smart, fun, empowering Prime original that invokes fantasies of starting my career as a comedian who makes smart quips about dating and corporate America.
Ballers. Sex and the City for men that invokes fantasies of being an athlete.
Okay. Clearly, this is just going to be a list of my Netflix binge queue. I have a newfound respect for Oprah. Maybe she does deserve a magazine with her face on the cover every month. But seriously, how many magazine cover poses does one woman have? New life goal: I begin a magazine called the Dome with a different dome pic every month.
7. Stop telling myself I'm going to floss. I'm not a flosser. I need to accept that.
8. Finally, be brave. I participated in this personal branding workshop at the end of my time at Ross, and you had to choose three words you wanted to described you. Honestly, I forget the other two at the moment, but I remember brave. There are different levels of brave, and honestly, I don't think everything society calls brave is brave. For instance, face planting while attempting a backflip in a conference room could be considered unbridled bravery or utter stupidity - it's all about framing. There are constructive forms of bravery, though. The bravery to discuss taboo topics, to confront your own issues, to create original solutions, to love radically, whether or not that is reciprocated, to trust and hope continually. In a position where it is easy to be comfortable, it is those who are brave enough to choose discomfort that affect growth. Cheers to 2019, y'all! As always, let's kick some ass.
* No, I didn't get tan.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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