Monthly Archives: September 2010

Killing Spiders and Other Bad Metaphors for Change

Posted on by
5

Eight days of solid work. For a startup tech conference – the largest ever – midVenturesLAUNCH – working with guys so impressive, it’s spurred me to continue to take risks with my life and to strive for more.

But also, working in Chicago, it hit me.

How the hell did I end up here?

Not because I don’t like it or I am not enjoying myself – au contraire! I love it here. It has everything one could want in a city – arts, entertainment, crazy taxi cabs, nightlife, hustle and bustle and the extreme focus and drive that it takes to survive in one. But it also has – waterfront, weather (something I missed living in LA and something I got a bit too much of in England) and nice people, beautiful neighborhoods, an international community, big deciduous trees, a subway and nice people.

The thing is – I just can’t figure it out. I can’t pigeon hole this city.

I stop, I look around, I talk to the people in it. It’s so normal, but then again, not.

And it’s in the Midwest.

I go back to my original question. How did I get here?

I can’t explain it more than that – that question has been plaguing me for the past two weeks – in a good way. Like a plague full of skittles and smiles and Modern Family tv shows.

Jock thinks it’s because I can’t fit Chicago into a neat box. Moi? Trying to compartmentalize?? Never!

Then I remember what change is like – finding a spider in your apartment. First step – coming face to face with a disgusting, 8-legged creature building a nasty, invisible web in the corner of your window. You realize it’s tiny, so much smaller than you. You smile because it doesn’t even know what’s coming to it.  You feel good about yourself for recognizing how vulnerable and small it is and how much power you wield. This sucker ain’t got nothing on you.

Then – it moves. You scream and jump onto the first safe thing you can find – something familiar and up high. You underestimated its danger. You misjudged your own feelings and capabilities. There is no way in hell you can fight this vicious creature.

The spider pauses for a moment, still poised on all eight legs, ready to attack – but it gives you a moment to recollect yourself. Out of the corner of your eye, you see that this room is filled with your own stuff, your own weapons, weapons that you have been hoarding and storing your entire life – perfect weapons that will crush anything in its path, they just need to be used to the right capacity.

You reach for that shoe/folder/mental and emotional crutch. It starts to walk away, you ease up the tension in your neck, take deep breaths and begin to realize what a fool you are for getting so scared in the first place. After all, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.

But, The spider moves again!! This time…in your own direction and it’s MUCH bigger than you anticipated. In fact, it must be poisonous. You are definitely going to die. Thoughts of death, paralyzation and foaming from the mouth occur to you – there is no way you’ll survive and you feel so lonely. Why did you ever get yourself into this situation? In a small apartment, alone and with something so different from you encompassing the same space. You should have stayed living with your mother forever where she could kill the spiders for you.

You panic, jump up and down, reach for your phone – but then it kicks in. Survival instinct. You are a ninja – a spider-killing, change-conquering, death-defying superhero.

The spider is dead. Your hair is sticking straight up. You have goo on your shoe.

You feel elated. You spray spider-killing spray all over your apartment, you are ready for the next attack and you feel stronger than you ever have before. Nothing can take you down. Why aren’t there more spiders to kill everyday? – you think to yourself.

OK, so maybe the spider-killing metaphor went on a bit too long, but you get my point.

I’m expecting highs and lows along the way, and I’m expecting to get hit with something nasty when I least expect it, but I also know how great I will feel once it’s all conquered, my life is on a path and Chicago is where I can call home.

The Bloke Who Brunches, Installment 1

Posted on by
7

From Jock:

Wow, no pressure then!

I tentatively said I’d write an article ages ago deriding the bus load of Americans that invaded our romantic lunch I’d specially organised when we were in Ireland over a year ago. Then I find myself here.

See now straight away I’m thinking -  should I have put in more comma’s or full stops in that previous sentence?

You have to understand I’m new to this constructing sentences thing!

I’m surprised ‘the lady who lunches’ came up with this idea. MAL takes 2 years building up an outstanding portfolio of blog-tastic material and then she hands it over to little old me, a 33 year old numpty who’s only previous writing experience was on a toilet cubicle wall for a certain friend of his (hi Bez).

Unlike many of you, I’m not much if a writer you see, there will be no dalliances with Shakespearean grammar, I hasten with endeavour to maintain an ornate linguistic poise!

Basically it just took me 5 minutes to Google all that! Throw in a thesaurus – 10 minutes. Just to try and look clever , and it makes no sense whatsoever. Anyhow, what I mean is …………I’ll keep it simple, it’s best that way. For us all. (too many full stops and comma’s?)

Now for those of you that think I am here to ‘bash the yanks’ (sorry bro!) [bro as in brother, not 'my bro' as in 'my homi' or 'my dog' as Americans might say] I will merely comment on what I see (no bro, there will be no mention of the ridiculously over-sized petrol guzzling vehicles that line the city centre (centre spelt correctly thank-you Mr American spell-check on computer), nor the plethora of slightly rotund children hoovering down burgers (all my own big words, I must be easing in to it) Nope, none of that, I’ll be keeping it simple remember, I’ll just say what I see.

Now straight away I am sure there are a few of you that have noticed my organisation of sentences and use of brackets is way out of hand, and yes, i did notice some anti-American material in there, but that’s it. No more. I promise (ish)

I hope that you are able to understand my English-isms, and do not worry, I too hope MAL and the ‘lady who lunches’ is back soon.

Kind regards

Jock/Bloke that Brunches

PS – not that there’s been too much brunch of late with the cleanse thing.

PPS – the Gorilla on MAL’s intro was cool, but not as cool as Jock the Gorilla in Bristol Zoo, UK. No really, there is a Jock the Gorilla in Bristol.

http://www.bristolzoo.org.uk/gorilla-island

Jock, male, born May 1985
Jock weighs 220kg (about 34 stone!), is all muscle and stands over 1.8m (6ft) tall when on his back legs. Despite his impressive size, Jock is a gentle giant who still loves to drink his juice from his keepers out of a bottle. Jock has fathered two youngsters with Salome and Romina: Namoki and Komale.

Jock - Photo taken by Peter Budd

How to Search for a Job

Posted on by
2

Or the title should read – “How I’ve Grown With My Job Search.”

Or, “How to Make Yourself Visible to Human Resources.”

Or possibly – “How to Become Obsessed with Fonts, Search Engines, Adjectives and Action Verbs”

Or just – “Getting a Job” would probably suffice.

(Don’t worry – “Bloke Who Brunches” is coming for those of me who are anxiously awaiting, but I did say I had one more post in me!)

My last seven days have consisted of the following actions:

1. Day by day, hour by hour, edited resume by chopped up cover letter – I am chiseling away at the Chicago job machine. Whomever is out there who is about to hire me might now know that I am taking this sharp toothpick to the steel wall that is the job market, but I am and I will succeed in whittling you away.

And you will be proud to hire me as your employee. And boy oh boy, will I be proud to work for you.

What am I applying for, you might ask?

Jobs that I feel are the right fit. That’s the only way I can describe how I go about my search. When I read the description, I assess my qualifications against their requirements, I rework my resume accordingly.

2. My resume has gone on an evolution. Clearly, I tweak it and my cover letter for every job I apply for – I highlight which duties work best with each job. But, the format has changed.

The first few days, I had no responses. So, I looked at my resume, I ran it through careerbuilder.com ‘s resume checker. They suggested adding a brief Profile at the top to describe my assets. (No, not that kind.) They explained that HR might only look at it for a few seconds before moving on, so make an impression!

Sent it off many more times. Nothing. Except a nice letter from YMCA letting me know they had more qualified janitors, but thank you for applying. (J/K)

So, I looked at the resume again. I went back to it. The damn resume. I needed something to stand out – and apart from putting it on pink letterhead and spraying it with perfume à la Elle Woods, I thought a professional digital picture of myself attached to the upper left corner couldn’t hurt. Ya know? Just so they know who this MAL is. Click here to view it in its present form.

Not rocket science, but I’ve had two interviews this week. Neither of them had anything to do with my resume since one was a staffing agency and the other I was referred to by a friend, but still. Perhaps the picture vibes are helping…

3. Cover letter

Again, I stayed professional, routine, traditional in the beginning. Nothing comes through.

So, I think, “You’re a writer, Meagan, not some automaton robot who churns out cover letters. Act like one. Be creative! (And remain professional.)” So I got more creative. I dared to challenge myself to stand out.

How? Well, as soon as I get a job, I’ll post which cover letter got me the job.

4. The Job Search Itself

Apart from buying an ad on facebook like that guy did, the truly great jobs aren’t on Simplyhired.com, Indeed.com, Careerbuilder.com or Monster.com – I mean, they might be, but it’s hard to get seen through that slush pile.

The best jobs are directly on the company’s websites hiding in the bottom corner, are found out by calling directly (depending on the company), using my Linkedin connections, Twitter searches or from a friend of a friend. Trust me, I’m trying it all. My dream job is out there. I’m just not sure where yet. If you know of anyone looking for:

A hardworking, detail-oriented and excellent communicator who has 5 years experience as a high-level assistant in a variety of busy offices. I have a strong background in accomplishing tasks with research and ingenuity in an efficient manner and with passion. Computer and technologically savvy, I endeavor to maintain a confidential demeanor, use my people skills to get assignments fulfilled and understand first, then be understood. I thrive in helping others.

Then, you know where to look! When I’m not looking for jobs – I’m doing this:

Introducing the… Bloke Who Brunches!

Posted on by
8

People have asked me if I feel the culture shock coming to America after nearly two years. I have to say – I don’t. Click HERE (“Something Better Somewhere Else” Guest Blog) for more on this by me.

But I know a guy who might know something about feeling culture shock. A very British guy. A guy who now officially goes by the name – “The Bloke Who Brunches.” I am formally introducing him here so that he can’t back out of his role. The Lady Who Lunches Blog will have a man taking over for a bit (after one more blog post) while she gets on with getting herself a job. He will be musing on American life as a Brit, possibly retorting to my pieces from when I first moved into his country and basically, I’m sure, tearing America up with his oh so British humo(u)r.

Perhaps he’ll talk about the Master Cleanse we’ve been doing for the past 3 days, or how we haven’t eaten any solid food during this time. But I doubt it – it gets a bit too graphic. Besides the fact that we’ve been heading to bed every night at 9PM, doing laps around the Lake walk to Lincoln Zoo and back and buying lots of lemons and maple syrup – there’s really nothing else on the cleanse track to report. (Read someone else’s account here.) – If I were to say something about it – I feel awake, thin and clear.

Or maybe he’ll tell you about the square footage of our apartment – no wait, that wouldn’t fill a sentence.

I’m sure he’ll think of something. In the meantime, let’s all give a warm welcome to “The Bloke Who Brunches!!!” (hand claps all around)

Oh wait! That’s the gorilla from the Lincoln Zoo. My bad.

Here he is:


The Start

Posted on by
11

The shades are closed in our apartment. Our apartment. Did you catch that? And the clothes are put away in drawers, hung on hangers, paperwork is on our desk, bed is made with our sheets and the fridge is filled with our food.

Oh how good it feels to be home. To be in a home that we can call ours – for three to four months. We are here temporarily – until either he or I find a job and we can afford somewhere nicer.

Don’t get me wrong – this is the location we want – on the corner of State St and Division, but we’d prefer a place where it isn’t mostly students living here.

(Side Note: We are on the 12th floor and the building across from us has a man hanging on outside cleaning windows. That is freaky. Just had to mention it.)

Joan, a squirrelly, talkative older woman, showed us three studios on Saturday to choose from. One had a separate kitchen but an old bathroom, one was nasty and dirty and the third one had high ceilings, new tiles in the bathroom, fresh paint and new carpets. I think she showed us the other two to put the third one in good light. Since Labor Day was happening, we couldn’t move in until Tuesday.

Luckily, two amazingly generous friends let us stay at their place over the weekend while they visited their parents in Ohio. They saved us. Their gorgeous two-story place in Bucktown was exactly what we needed to relax in after our big night out on Saturday.

Our big night out with friends from England – one who was dating a girl who happened to be a childhood friend of another friend who lived in Chicago, but they didn’t meet through each other. Make sense? So, we all went – all the incestuous group of us and we headed to a bar called – just guess. Go ahead. The English – I swear to God, the bar they took us to was called The English. I don’t invent this stuff.

Sometimes I wonder if I ever really left England with all these Brits around. I love it – I get the best of both worlds.

The Romanian cocktail waitress served us well, Englishman Matt Hoy kept the shots coming and the random raucous joke while Ella (his American girlfriend) and I compared notes on dating these Brits, the new couple said their first set of “I Love You’s,” we all jumped up and down, Jock and I kept up our American version of overdoing things and I half-heartedly attempted a dance-off with a set of men clearly out of my dancing abilities. Didn’t realize it at the time.

Look, not even a week and we made on the Chicago Scene! (Last time we’ll be doing that for a couple of months – that’s for sure. Now is time to settle, be quiet inside, save money and find a job.)

My next post will be something more philosophical about change, about finding jobs, setting up shop, starting new. Possibly about this cleanse Jock and I have started today.

In the meantime, Matty Hoy – here’s your shout out. (He’s the guy third from left with the dazed expression in his eyes.)