Slower is Smarter

This morning I saw a great, and ever so appropriate (at least for this entry) bumper sticker. It said, "Drive Smarter. Drive Slower." For a runner that nearly gets run over every morning, I was very appreciative of this mobile marketing campaign.

Every morning I run the same big square around Naperville rain or shine, deep freeze or sweltering heat, and tempt fate as I come to various intersections. The frustrated commuters have one thing on their mind - get to work and as fast as possible. They pay no attention to the morning light, the soft snow falling, the sweet aroma of bacon from the restaurants downtown serving breakfast, and most of all to the pedestrians. As I dash across intersections a predictable drama unfolds: I take a couple steps, the driver only looking to the left tries to make a right hand turn on red, he or she nearly runs me off the road, and I shake my head at the commuter's grand apology (arms wave, brow raises, face stresses, lips silently mouth "I'm SORRY!")

This is not a scenario unique to the morning in Naperville. All over America, at all hours of the day, we move at a hurried pace from one activity to the next. I wonder if we even enjoy the things we are doing in the moment because we are always worried how and how fast we will get to the next activity.

I read a novel recently which talked a lot about the culture and tempo of Eastern Europe. The author described it as having a much slower pace than America. He said, "Everyone in American is hurrying so they can make money, but when there is no money to be made, we slow down." Is this true? Is this why everyone in America can't slow down - - because there is money out there, dangling from a string, that we will run in circles to capture?

We hypothesize a lot in our culture about winning the lottery. If we win millions and strike it rich, then we can take it easy. At this hypothetical, ultimate and perfect point in our lives, then we can relax and enjoy life. For some, a culmination of the frenzied pace may come in the form of an unprecedented corporate bonus, for others it may come at retirement. However, until you reach your rest cycle, I urge you to find one or two activities in your life, where you strive to take things a little slower. Give attention to and appreciate each beat in your life's rhythm.

Though I don't hold myself as an ideal or a shining example of someone who has overcome the rush, I believe I have made some big strides in the way I approach two aspects of my daily routine. After work, I go from a sprint, to a walking pace - for music lovers, an adagio, and I have witnessed the quality within these parts of my day progress from amateur to more refined.

First, Cooking

I have written about it before, but cooking is one of my passions. It is a hobby that I research, practice, and converse about on a daily basis. In one of my marketing classes last year, we traced the image and branding of the Betty Crocker Cookbook from her roots as a homemaker with a heritage and portfolio of lovingly prepared meals, to a working woman who needed to be equipped with meal solutions which could be prepared quickly and efficiently. Though I celebrate and perhaps embody the working woman who wants to do it all, I also abhor the 30 minute meal.

I cooked from my new Lidia Bastianich cookbook on Saturday evening. I had just watched a show about the local ingredients, flavors and preparation techniques from the Basilicata region of Italy, and decided to try one of Lidia's recipes from that region: A traditional Primi, a baked cherry tomato pasta dish that would go well with my boyfriend's Secondi preferiti, "un Bistecca."

I was dicing garlic, sweet onions, and cherry tomatoes when my boyfriend asked if I wanted to use a food processor. I immediately scoffed at the suggestion. The local women of Italy do not cook with processors. They pit each olive by hand, half each tomato without damaging its sun-kissed skin, and slowly simmer ingredients until each flavor blends together into a mutually beneficial marriage. I love to chop, cook, and savor aromas, because it is the part of my day where I get to slow down. I get to pour a glass of wine and work through each step at my own speed. There is no deadline, except perhaps a stomach growl, but that can easily be mending by said glass of wine and a ripe creamy piece of St. Andre cheese.

If you don't have kids or a husband asking when dinner will be ready, cook slowly. It is an amazing activity, that you should enjoy through and through.

Second, Consuming

When I was in grade school, Thursday nights were rough. After school I went directly to field hockey, basketball or play practice, then to piano, then home to a heaping portion of Linguini with Clam Sauce that I proceeded to inhale, then to a double session of dance class. Though I had become accustomed to scarfing down food for fuel, I used to have to take a break about ten minutes into class some nights, because my babysitter, Debbie's, monstrous portion of pasta, had gotten the better of me.

When younger, there was steep competition between the winner of the who-can-complete-a-meal-faster race. For a good part of my youth, I believe I held the title, but my brother became a master in his high school years, because he knew that the longer he stayed at the table eating, the more questions he would have to field from my mom and dad. While honing my skills of rapid consumption came in handy at various points of my life (Thursdays nights like the ones I described, halftime of lacrosse games when I would scarf down Cheerios to propel my efforts in the second half, and a very un-lady-like Freshman year of college when I was a champion shot gunner) the side effects of indigestion and weight gain were reason enough to change my habits.

Recommendations to take it easy while consuming came a lot in my later years. My parents would say slow down, Katy would say, "Wow, stop drinking so hard," Kristen would look up in amazement as I polished off my salad and she took her first bite. However, I would say I took a major leap in slowing down the pace of consumption this year. The trick for me (and it may not be for everyone, as I am not condoning alcoholism) is to have one glass of wine before dinner and one during dinner. It acts as a catalyst to transition from the frenzy of the workday, into a time set aside for relaxation. It also acts as a prelude and finale to each bite, enhancing each flavor, and it opens taste buds to the complexities and melodies that come from the symphony of flavors.

Though I am still proud of the day I polished off a Tessaro's hamburger in three bites so I could make it to the 7:15 PM show, I am glad to leave scarfing behind.

So ... this evening, as you put another day to rest, think of a way or two that you can slow down your rapid routines. Or at least, if anyone from the city of Naperville is reading, please drive smarter and slower tomorrow morning, and watch out for the friendly runner in the yellow Steelers hat.

Lo

A New Year, A New Me?

It is officially 2010. Although I rang in the New Year with my family in Puerto Rico and toasted the New Year on Sunday night with Peter, bay scallops, and a wonderful bottle of Marchesa Prosecco, it was the return to my routine yesterday that marked the New Year for me.

My team at work engaged in some thorough "twenty-ten planning" over the past couple of months to gear up for the start of the New Year. I felt poised, ready and raring to go on the job front yesterday. With all this work related planning though, I forgot to do any personal 2010 planning. I used my routine run yesterday to brainstorm on how I could put some of the great pieces of advice I received over the past couple of days to use in 2010.

NPR, the visiting priest at St. Peter's and Paul of Naperville, my family and boyfriend, and my friend Meredith each offered some words of wisdom to me over the past 4 days, which will shape how I want to approach this new year. I have provided the long and short versions below, because sometimes my readers just want to get straight to the point ; )

1. As I mentioned before, my family and I were in Puerto Rico during the change from 2009 to 2010. During a great and relaxing week, there were many opportunities for competitive sport. Whether it was on the volleyball court or running trail, during a silly paddle ball game or hearts game, in the pool, kitchen, or at the dining room table. There were many opportunities where one could claim (if one won) that he or she was the champion of the world. I had to tell myself over and over again:

"I don't need to have the most knowledge on a subject"

"It doesn't matter if I lose a card game"

"There are other people that can cook very well in my family"

"It's okay if I didn't complete the longest list of activities for the day."

When I lost, which seemed to happen a lot on this particular vacation, my ego was bruised and I wanted to take it out on my competitor. (I am still working on the whole concept of friendly competition - for me it has always been more like I-hate-you-if-you-beat-me competition.) With nudging and coaching here and there from my boyfriend, my inner competitive demon starting to fade through the week though. Basically, he has taught me that there's no need to be #1 in a family, because ultimately your family doesn't love you for winning, they love you for playing. I believe in 2010, I will make major strides in putting Competo to rest.

Less fierce competition, more friendly play.

2. I talked to my friend Meredith last night who had some great advice. She told me in so many words that I should enjoy every moment and not worry about the next. She said sometimes when you start looking at your peers, you feel the pressure to be like them, have the same things as them, look like them. However, each of us have unique situations and what's right for one person is probably all wrong for the other person. So don't make life a competition - there is no starting point and finish line. You will win regardless if you are happy through each stage. Such great advice.

Life is not a competition.

3. NPR provided my third bit of advice. They showcased a story about a man with a debilitating disease called spinal muscular atrophy yesterday on their morning show. Most with his disease don't live past the age of 4, but he has thrived. He turned 47 this year, has his own family, and is a successful writer in LA who is working on a memoir. He spoke yesterday about how, at the start of this new year, he isn't so much looking ahead, but looking back on 2009 which sincere thankfulness. He said although nothing really exciting happened in 2009, it was a year that was "blessedly drama free," which in his life means a lot. No medical complications, hospital visits, or extremely stressful situations. He ended his remarks by saying sometimes being normal is good enough. I was struck by this comment immediately, and couldn't agree with it more.

Being normal is great.

4. Finally, in mass on Sunday, a visiting priest talked about the celebration of Epiphany in a great way. He spoke about those that wander in the desert, and how they do so at night, because they can navigate better guided by astronomy. The Three Kings were guided by a particularly bright star that led them to the baby Jesus. The priest said that in this day and age, we are called to be lights for others. We are meant to be beacons for people who have lost their way or need some direction. Although, the application from mass is to guide people to the Church, I want to take this into the secular realm as well. I want to very happy and satisfied in 2010 no matter what, because I have been very blessed, and help show others how to be happy as well.

Happiness is the beacon I want to shed.

So in 2010 I am not looking to catapult my personage into the next level of excellence. I am trying to just be happy old me. The me that I know, my family and boyfriend knows, and my lifelong friends know. I have nagging strains that want to be bigger and better than everyone else at everything that I do, but my goal this new year, is to be satisfied with what I have been given, become comfortable and thankful for being normal, and let my satisfaction and smile be a beacon for those that are less happy.

Happy New Year,

Lo

Reaching For The Stars

When marketing a product, company, or in my case a non-profit organization, there comes a time when you might want to leverage the power of a celebrity. Whether its through strategic and prime product placement in a film (such that any viewer will want to run to the nearest store to purchase whatever it was that Robert Pattinson was drinking instead of human blood in the latest Twilight movie); or scouting out that perfect celebrity spokesperson whose appeal spans the general and ethnic consumer markets, who actually loves your brand, and is 100% willing to develop an ad campaign with you without compensation; star power can move the masses.
[Sigh]
If it was only as easy as writing this paragraph. Celebrities are a rare breed and getting them to work and speak well on behalf of your product or company can be a daunting task.

I just spent three days in Los Angeles for work. I was there for an event that involved many moving pieces and targets, but whether it was the preparation before, the managing during, or the celebrating after, each step involved shielding my eyes from the blinding aura of the twinkling stars of Hollywood.

On Thursday night we went to dinner at a steakhouse called The Palm. The pre-event networking dinner involved multiple agencies and some of the Mommy bloggers who would be writing about the Charity the next day. The restaurant was located next door to Laker stadium, which was hosting one of the first games of the season. As I sat there, shifting and balancing conversations between diapers, access to healthcare and Big Macs, I kept sneaking glances of the big screen TV next to me, which pinpointed the bevy of celebrities present at the game. Heather Locklear, Zack Efron, and Jack Nicholson were all in attendance, all right next door. Oh, the potential excitement of actually running into the ranks of the glitteratti.

The next day the excitement increased when I actually came in contact with a set of minor celebrities. The following day, my work event involved three celebrities: Billy Bush, Dayanara Torres, and the one and only Ronald McDonald. Mustering up and managing these three people took several PR agencies, nannies, scripts, and security, all of which ultimately ended in minor chaos. My claim to fame that day, I got to help watch Billy Bush's children.

That night as the sun set over the Hollywood Hills, I woke up from a power nap and attended a "networking meeting" between the people I traveled with and a local event management company at the Chateau Marmont in West Hollywood. I kind of rolled my eyes when I passed through the man with a clipboard, the garage full of the most expensive cars I had ever seen, and the lobby filled with strung out, super skinny, model-type figures. But when we went outside to the courtyard, the atmosphere became more relaxed and normal. That is, until I removed my focus from ordering a glass of wine and consuming it quickly, to looking around. To my right was John Legend and Nicky Hilton, in front of me Amy Pohler, Megan Mullaley, Rashida Jones, and other SNL cast members, catty-corner to them some Gossip Girls, and then to my left (my ultimate celebrity siting), Lindsey Lohan getting cozy next to Jason Segal (big tall comedian from Forgetting Sarah Marshall, Man's Best Friend, and Knocked Up.)

Everyone around me remained pretty cool, casual and focused on their beverages. I, on the other hand, was star STRUCK. I think I actually wiped away a tear when I did a double take of Lindsey Lohan. What the heck?! Why was I so inspired, awe-struck, in-heaven?! This was ridiculous and actually with the exception of John Legend, I really wasn't that big of a fan of these people's work on or off the screen. I also don't think ANY of them would have made stellar celebrity spokespeople, especially for a Charity. However, as Lindsey walked by in her shimmery spandex revealing her stick thin legs, mile high booties, skull cap hiding her stringy blond hair, and leather jacket I suddenly felt like I had to have every piece of the ensemble.

When I got home I couldn't wait to tell my boyfriend about my amazing evening. As I rattled off the names, reliving the sheer bliss of seeing the celebrities at play, I realized that I was going to be greeted with the response, "I have no idea who any of those people are."
Yep.
Fact.
That is the person that I love.
He got a bigger kick out of my tweeny-bopper excitement than out of the celeb sitings. Alas, I had became a name-dropper, hoping to achieve some sort of recognition from being associated with the A-listers.

This sense of celebrity and name dropping can infect the work place just as much as it has my dreams the past couple of nights. Business can largely be a game of who's who and who you know. We also currently place an equal amount of celebrity status on corporate officers as we do on personalities like Tom Cruise, Julia Roberts, and Branjenlina. (A for instance: when a certain CEO said "hello ladies" in my general direction during a recent gala, I almost swooned.) In business school, I was literally encouraged to pencil off every Friday as time for building key business relationships.

We live in a culture that will always be fascinated by the rich, famous, talented and troublesome; where success is aligned with celebrity status, and where we are encouraged to network to move into the upper echelons of society. We also praise those who have relationships with a celebrity, an officer, a politician, or an inside informant from the competition, as our unique gateway into an exclusive world. So, how as confident professionals who want to avoid the syrupy suck-up to the stars game, do we make our presence known in business decisions? Do we hope that someone will miraculously take notice of our talent? Probably not, because most likely you'll be waiting forever and be stuck in the rut of B playerdom for the rest of your corporate career.

Not all of us are bound for celebrity status in this world, and that's okay, because the B players are equally important in the fabric of corporate America as the A players. However, for those who have identified a differentiating quality in the way you work or what you produce, I encourage you to self-promote, rather than to rely on the associative properties of the stars. Individuals and products that work their way up without a celebrity spokesperson or corporate escort have a greater chance of making a lasting impact. Celebrities come in and out of favor; We applaud and boo them, dig into their scandalous behavior, and listen attentively only until their messages become irrelevant. When one comes into the limelight, another one's fifteen minutes of fame dwindles. (Trust me, you don't want to be on that ship when it is quietly forced out of the company.) Networking in business should be about education - we should learn from a leader's successes and failures, and take heed when navigating our own career trajectory.

On Friday evening, Jason Segal whispered to Megan Mullaley, "Don't judge me because I'm with Lindsey." (I overheard because they were standing right behind me.) This mistake in Segal's networking, especially when while running in such high-profile circles, could be devastating. And the last thing he or anyone wants is to fall out of favor with the funny people - because there will always be a place within the in-crowd for them. http://www.people.com/people/videos/whatyoumissedovertheweekend/


Lo

Mother May I

The other night over a very interesting dinner with 3 bloggers and 5 communications professionals, we started talking about regulations within our respective industries. The FTC recently published a new, half thought-through set of regulations for pushing products through social media channels. For instance, if you are tweeting, posting, and writing about a product on your site, you have to disclose whether or not a company compensated you to write about your experience with their good. The bloggers have a direct relationship with these new rules and were explaining the complexities.

I thought to myself while the conversation progressed, here lies yet another addition to the list of rules that we are asked to play by. Everyday the papers are littered with stories about bills, proposals, and requests for more regulation. From the banking system and the private insurance companies, to immigration and education, the FDA, EPA, ABA, PTA, NCAA ... all want tighter rules, heavier sanctions, and more control.

I have always played by the rules and am honestly afraid to go against them. When authority figures tell me to do something, I do it, and for the most part, no questions asked. I grew up in a household (the daughter of a lawyer mind you) where there were codes of conduct and certain sanctions for not abiding by the house rules. There was room for interpretation amongst my siblings and I; and there became various strains of tolerance from the parental unit for deviating from the rules; but on the whole, my siblings and I grew up following by the system. From my perspective here are seven rules that I thought to be unbreakable in the Fischer household:

Rule #1: Everyone pitches in around the house
Rule #2: Everyone is nice to each other
Rule #3: Everyone is clear about where they are going, who they are going with, and when they will return
Rule #4: Everyone goes to church together
Rule #5: Everyone partakes in the family activity and doesn't fuss about it
Rule #6: Whatever the parent says, goes
Rule #7: If mom or dad had a stressful day at work, take heed of bad mood and suck up as much as possible

I held these guidelines as the law and was petrified of repurcussions had I not followed them. I always did whatever chore I needed to do without complaint. I told my parents exactly where I was going and with whom ( I even had a self-imposed curfew so my parents wouldn't be able to find any fault in my weekend activities.) If my parents wanted to attend 8 AM mass on Sunday, I was there by their side. I lauded whatever family outing we chose, jovially sauntering through flower shows, art museums, folk festivals, and grocery stores as my siblings scoffed at my syrupy enthusiasm.

My siblings had a different take on the rules though. My elder sister had her own opinion and wasn't afraid to share it. She took many long bathroom breaks after dinner aleviating her from dish duty. Despite getting in trouble for it, she continued to go on Eat N' Park outings with Midnight Mary Anne in our Transport van. My brother threw out some of these rules in high school when his sense of reasoning developed. He used to tell my parents he would no longer field their intrusive questions, that he was leaving to go out with an undisclosed group of friends, and that he would go to mass later alone. From my perspective such risky behaviors were unthought of. Looking back on it, what possessed me to be so law abiding and for lack of a better word, such a dork?!

I don't know why I am so into following the rules. It wasn't just my parents rules either. I used to become extremely nervous (and actually start crying) as the "We will be closing in 30 ... 10 ... 5 minutes" announcement echoed through the Home Goods section of Kaufmanns while late night shopping with my mother. I was afraid that we would break the rules, get locked in the store, and then my life would be over. Again, looking back on it, how exciting would it have been to get locked in a department store at night?! The ultimate slumber party with my Mom and sister would have unfolded complete with giant beds dressed with perfect bedspreads, new PJs and robes, makeovers, televiewing on giant screens, and eating our way through displays of rich Godiva chocolate.

Today we face debate after debate in our country about stricter rules and heavier sanctions. And though it may be a stretch, I want to compare the different perspectives of rules in the smaller governed body of my family to a larger governed body like America.

Though I have always been creative and have a unique personality, I get anxious when asked to break a rule. I can think outside the box, but I am often afraid to work and play outside the box. My siblings on the other hand were never afraid to test boundaries with authority figures. Their reasoning and confidence led them to believe that, perhaps, at times, the way the authority wants us to do things isn't the best way. Perhaps there is another way, a better way. My parents managed both sides very well - gathering new sets of information from my elder sister who was actually reading books during those "bathroom breaks", getting chores done around the house through me, and getting endless amounts of laughter from my brother whose comedic routines took the place of sweeping the floor.

We live in a country where these two camps (rule abiders and breakers) exist, and I ask you this - - if the rule breakers weren't there, would we have the level of technological, financial, artistic, and athletic successes that we do today? If we impose more regulation, will individuals and groups still push, innovate, and progress? It is the rule breakers that advance the system, but the rule abiders that keep the current system productive and running smoothly. You need both and you need to manage both. However, the more we try to impose strict regulations on the entirety of the population, the less our society will grow. My parents were able to manage both camps. Some companies also manage the rule breakers and abiders very successfully. However, I think the nation's government is getting to the point, that might prove stifling to our collective progress. I ask though, how do you manage effectively on that grand of a scale?

My thoughts are exhausted at this point, but I would appreciate your comments and perspectives. Post away! For now, court adjourned!

Lo

Cooking for One

Today I am in Los Angeles. I am here for work, and will be here for the next couple of days to celebrate McHappy Day with good friends of Ronald McDonald House Charities like Billy Bush, Dayanara Torres, a host of mommy bloggers from Southern California, and representation from McDonald's. Some good posting ideas will definitely emerge.

However, in the mean time I wanted to write about the movie that I saw last night en route to LA. I was planning to curl up in the steerage section of the United plane with my latest volume of Penny Vincenzi's London-based novels. However, I called an audible and put on the germ-infested ear phones to watch the Westbound feature film, Julie and Julia. (Which I had been meaning to watch for awhile.) I had heard good things - that it was adorable, that the viewer would want to go back home and cook up a storm afterward, that Meryl Streep delivered an amazing performance yet again. You can blame it on my fatigue, my irritability due to the elbow bumping neighbor of mine, or the slightly muffled sound, but I found the movie only half good. That is, the half with Julia Childs was great, the half with Julie (I forget her last name), not so much.

The sections of the movie focused on Julia Childs were sweet, melodic and inspirational. (Although that voice became rather annoying.) Julia was a true original. She wanted to enable and equip the servantless housewives of America with excellent French recipes. She wanted to free them of the marshmellow fluff and jello molds, and give them the gift of butter based emulsions, aspics, and canard!! I absolutely appreciate her decades of hard work, perseverence and professionalism. She gave a unique gift and provided profound inspiration to generations of cooks and chefs.

It was the millenial version of her that really botherd me. Women of the 21st century have reverted back to meal solutions. They are too busy to follow the detailed procedures found in Mastering French Cooking and instead want five ingredients or less, 30 minute meals, and semi-homemade. Blah. The character of Julie is supposed to represent the alternative of this modern cook. She seeks out fresh and exotic ingredients, finds comfort in her cookware, and isn't afraid to increase the butter content. She is experiencing life in a different, more innovative way, than her self-absorbed success driven faux friends, and the viewer is asked to hold her up as an ideal. I had a hard time with that request. I saw her as whiny, uncreative and ultimately just as selfish as the friends she hated. Her lack luster quality lies in the fact that it was her husband's idea of writing and cooking, that they were Julia's recipes, not her own, and that she spent a measly year working on this project, whereas Julia spent a lifetime. I would top that all off with her bizaare idolistic relationship with her imaginary version of Julia Childs.

I have written about my love of food and cooking in the past, so this film seemed like a natural fit. Or, the cooking and blogging character of Julie, might at first glance seem to be someone I would admire. However, the purpose behind her pursuits and mine are quite different. To me, cooking is a gift that I want to share with others. Thinking of and preparing a meal is all about who it is for in the end. That is the way Julia Child approached a recipe, and not the way Julie did. At the end Julie is sad because she finds out that Julia Child is on record saying "I hate her." Julia, I don't blame you. As the daughter of a tireless female leader, who could do it all and still make a mean red sauce for her ravenous children at the end of the day, it takes a lot more to impress me as well.

This weekend, I encourage you to try a new recipe, slave away all day in the kitchen, but do it as a gift for your friends and family. It makes the meal that much sweeter!

Lo

Staying Sane

In a post recessionary economy that experts in the industry claim is on the rebound, it is easy to chart when, where and possible point figures at how we went into a slump. Economists can look at graphs and chart when the bubbles burst, the GDP stopped growing, consumer confidence started to shift toward panic, and we all started stressing out about the 2nd great depression and how it was going to affect the lifestyles we have come to know and love.

In one's life, though, it is harder to chart the expansions and recessions. Looking back at my mid 20s (which are just about coming to an end) I think I can pinpoint a secular bear market or what I more fondly like to call my quarter-life crisis. It was definitely a point of contraction in my growth cycle - - a point where I reassessed priorities and mind set and when my capital to asset ratio shifted drastically toward the latter (which today would shut down any bank.) It was above all a time when stress reigned supreme in my life as I debated what non-risky investment I should make next. Looking back, I can definitely say that I had entered a slump, which included me, a couch, re-runs of Sex and the City, and way too many bowls of cereal. I remember talks with my mother who always had suggestions on how to cope and how to get get back into the market. She named such solutions as always finding something to look forward to, like vacations (this had always worked for such influential figures as Aunt Dee Dee), reading a lot, making a list of goals, becoming the independent entrepreneur of the week (foraying into the lucrative markets of greeting card illustrator and creative caterer), and of course saying some prayers.

In the Wall Street Journal alone today, there were 4 articles focused on solutions to stress and insanity given the recessionary aftermath. The articles depicted our nation as one composed of a bunch of mental cases on the verge of break down, self destruction and panic. Mentions of remedies such as reading, prayer, and regular exercise would have made my mother proud. However, the general consensus is that these methods aren't working, people either don't have time, don't want to give an alternate lifestyle a try, or they just want the magic cure-all like the one found for pets in the form of pheromone therapy. The nation marches on in the elaborate search for (and composes many opinion pieces on) a solution for a return to normalcy.

My favorite article this morning was one about a woman who was laid off about 6 months ago and was quickly burning through her severance and savings to maintain a lifestyle that she felt kept her sane. She stated that if she didn't go to Starbucks everyday, have expensive networking luncheons, and drink flirty cocktails in the evening with girlfriends, she would go crazy. I mean really?! The amazing thing is though, during my crisis years, I used to do the same sort of thing while working the night shift in the restaurant. I used to wake up at 6:30 AM (after closing the restaurant at 3:00 AM) and rush to the coffee shop so I could be part of the morning ritual like all the normal people. Even though I wasn't burning through cash in the process, my goal was to be part of the system again, part of the regularity.

I ask myself this though, why? Why do I, why do most of us just want to fit in and have a comforting sense of routine. As part of the get up and go machine of corporate America, I should be looking back on those moments of irregularity in my life with fondness, but I'm not. I wonder though if these moments, when we cease to grow the way we always have, walk the same straight line, have the same sense of confidence, are really moments of opportunity. I raised my hand proudly in my innovation class last year and made the suggestion that perhaps the great recession was actually a good thing - - that there could be some tremendous societal, economic, or technological innovation that derived from it. My comment was scoffed at by the conservative set, but my ever encouraging professor said that perhaps I was dead on.

Instead of seeking out ways to stay sane, stay normal, stay afloat ... leverage that bit of craziness and confusion to catapult your career, your attitude, your personage to a new height. Maybe in order to expand sometimes, we have to take a step back. Maybe there is a need to experience crisis in order to prune ourselves and reassess our strategy for the next growth phase. Let's make my professor proud, and innovate in our time of crisis, even if that innovation is the cure-all for our overwhelming stress levels.

Lo

A Fresh Start!

The latest addition to my job description is blogger outreach. I am working alongside the PR and Marketing manager to research and engage mommy bloggers with the goal of enlisting them as Ronald McDonald House Charities ambassadors. Combined with my regular allotment of time for social networking in the form of tweeting, facebooking, and flickring, I have spent the majority of my work days over the past week becoming more familiar with the tone of our target market online. (Social media is a fascinating landscape, and in my opinion, one that every company needs to play in strategically.)

With this inundation of social media came a new appreciation for the blog that I created last March, and a renewed dedication to contributing on this site. So herein lies my commitment (by the way, I used to do this through high school when I ceased writing in my pen and paper journal that resided in my nightstand) to post on this site regularly. In my relatively new position in corporate America, now part of the System!, I have garnered a fresh perspective of being a young professional and I need a place to form and filter thoughts, and hopefully gain some feedback from readers.

Stay tuned - I'm planning to write again this evening. In the meantime, and throughout the day, feel free to follow me, as the "voice" of RMHC online on Twitter (@RMHC) and Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/rmhcglobal)

Happy Tuesday!

Lo

A Good Product

It seems that throughout the books I have read, films that I have seen, and business news that I have been confronted with recently, there are a great many characters struggling with their identity. Their confusion about who they are and who they want to be becomes the crux of the plot. Indecision when it comes to self-definition, leads a character to peril. It is only when the character clearly defines who he or she is, that they can make the most of their existence, and create the most beneficial relationship with the stakeholders involved.

In the newest remake of Star Trek, a young Spock struggles to define his character. He is told, “You will always be a child of two worlds.” He is half human and half Vulcan, which in layman terms means he has an emotional human heart and a mechanic Vulcan mind that can make decisions based entirely on reason. In Terminator Salvation, the character Marcus Wright is half human and half machine. He finds out about his mechanic and indestructible interior toward the middle of the film, and when directed to return to Skynet Headquarters is forced to make a decision about his character. In the novel, Middlesex, Calliope/Cal struggles to identify with a particular gender. Calliope was raised as a female, but after puberty took on the appearance of a man. There is a constant tension between the two sides that tears at Calliope’s character, and she won’t be happy until she reaches a committed decision. In Corporate America there are a great number of large and small companies seeking to redefine their character. They have been something too big, too narrow-minded, or too irrelevant for too long, and given financial dire straits, they are forced to see where their core competencies lie. This reshaping of their identity is the crux of their corporate timeline. Without a sound, qualified decision, the said company faces greater stock price plummets, shareholder angst, employee lay-offs, and eventual bankruptcy.

In all of these examples it becomes necessary for the individual involved to make a strong commitment toward one side of their character. Spock sees the value of being emotionally comprised, and gives into his human heart. Marcus Wright also cannot overcome his human heart to perform as a machine, and becomes a warrior for humanity. Calliope sides with her male persona, and becomes a more sensitive, better-dressed, and more confident person because of it. Big companies have chosen a leaner version of themselves in order to get back to what they do best and survive economic hard times. Because of these tensions, struggles, and hard decisions, the characters mentioned above become richer, more successful, and more interesting than the more two dimensional characters who support them. 

In the same vain, a product must have a clear understanding of its identity before it goes to market. It must have a well-defined and communicated value-add, so that the consumer knows exactly how this thing will benefit his or her life. A good product is reliable and long lasting. It is not something that you have to replace on a regular basis. Certain companies produce products that go through various life cycles. These products get upgrades and makeovers and usually leave the consumer wanting the original. (Microsoft Office is one such product that is continually upgraded, but seems to get worse and more confusing each time.) Consistency, reliability, value, hard work, physical attractiveness, and emotional appeal all work toward making a successful and lasting marriage between consumer and product. 

I don’t want to sound harsh or over-simplistic. However, I believe there is a strong similarity between the goods market and the dating market. A solid product goes to market after a careful examination of what the said product wants to be and how it can make a consumer’s life better. When you enter the dating market, my recommendation is to have a clear understanding of what you can promise to deliver. Girls, in particular, in today’s society are struggling in identity formation in much the same way as the aforementioned characters. They are torn between who their parents and friends want them to be, and what they believe the media and a prototypical male want them to be. There is a constant battle in their mind from hobbies, nutrition, sense of humor, and education, to wardrobe, hair and make-up, and social circle. In many scenarios, girls are taking the easy road by turning into clones or knock-offs of an original. They find one girl, whether she is in their school, in film or television, or an older role model, and shape their personalities off of the success of that individual. They thus become the Wal-Mart version of the original.  

As you enter the dating market, whether you are 16 or 35, the male counterpart that you are in search of, isn’t looking for a knock-off. Or, if he is, it is probably to fill a temporary void, until he can afford something better or more lasting. We all possess unique experiences and qualities that contribute to our character’s exclusive nature. There are certain things that we might have in common with one another, but when shopping around, men are looking for a distinctive personality, that will complement their nature.

So when you are gearing up for a weekend in search of that certain someone, think about who you are first. Think about those characteristics that make you special, different, and interesting, then play them up. In terms of physical appearance, accentuate what you like best about yourself. For example, if it’s your waist, make sure you are not wearing one of the ever-popular beer belly covering tops that girls seem to flock to recently. (NOTE: If you are proud of your entire body, please do not accentuate your entire body. You will end up looking like an easy, but unsustainable purchase.) In terms of your personality, funnel a conversation around a distinguishing part of yourself. Your job or your pet should not be the sole definition of who you are. What you do from 9 to 5 and who you talk to from 5 till bed, might not be the best place to start a dialogue. Think of a hobby you have, an experience you had, a great story, that makes you, you. Something that I always talked about was my participation on the Varsity Lacrosse Team at Notre Dame. I even remember showing a guy how I would play defense on him in the middle of a bar. This differentiating statistic, led to richer conversations about sport in general, which tends to be an immediate bonding point between male and female.

Like Spock, we are all children of a complex world, but it is our responsibility to define which aspects of our culture we want to embed within our character. Your identity in the dating market should be distinctive. Figure out your value-add, then walk into that venue confident, self-assured, and ready to sell yourself! 

Lo. 

Moving On

I am a native of the very proud city of Pittsburgh, which I like to consider a hidden gem. It is not quite the Midwest or East Coast, and has a personality, dialect, and culture of its own. It is a unique and underexposed city. Only a true native can appreciate the quirky character of the city that becomes embedded in a Pittsburgher’s identity. Even though I have lived away from Pittsburgh for two years now, and will be migrating to Chicago next week, Pittsburghese twang still slips from my mouth at moments, I still read the Pittsburgh Post Gazette on-line, my Pittsburgh pride swells throughout the Stanley Cup and NFL playoffs, I believe the Richardsonian Romanesque houses in Pittsburgh are the most regal, historic and undervalued mansions in the country, I miss walking into everyone that I know just as soon as I walk out the front door, and I crave Pittsburgh summers complete with the Pittsburgh Golf Club pool, tennis courts, and poolside dining, potato patch fries from Kennywood, Buccos games, and getting lunch on Walnut Street. I love the city of Pittsburgh and it will always have a special place in my heart.

In a week I will make a more or less permanent move away from my hometown to the burgeoning metropolis of Naperville, IL which lies about 25 miles from the Windy City. It is a slice of apple pie Americana complete with a Disney-esque River Walk, a mayor named Officer Friendly, framed mansions with pristine lawns, and the most amazing public pool I have ever seen, called Millennial Beach (sorry Dormont.) This pool is built from an old quarry and is absolutely enormous. It still has 2 high dives and 2 low boards despite our overly litigious culture, a floating dock in the middle, a water slide, lap lanes, and a bevy of good looking life guards who ride in kayaks around the pool to make sure no one drowns. I would even say it rivals my Grandparents’ country club, Spring Lake, in Quincy Illinois.

Naperville has a lot to offer and I am excited to move to my one bedroom loft apartment in a building that used to be a furniture factory. I am excited to be living near a Red Mango, a beautiful old church with lots of mass times, the train line to Chicago, and of course my boyfriend. Since my job does not start until June 15^th, I have spent the past couple days hanging out in and around the downtown area, taking advantage of observation time focused on the native Napervillians in their habitat, trying to elicit what makes Naperville special. 

One of the first observations that makes Naperville unique is the abundance of children. In particular the town is rampant with teenagers. They roam the streets like they own them, like they aren’t awkward and annoying. They have full child designated areas in Naperville like the skateboard park. Yesterday was "graduation day," which meant that the child-to-adult ratio was particularly out of order. They ran up and down Jefferson Street, in and out of retail venues, waving to friends, yelling, laughing, rejoicing that summer had come. These teenagers are part of the Millennial Generation that I studied in marketing. I always discounted the self-assurance factor among this generation. However, here, given the number and groupings of teens, I have seen the theory of teenage confidence in action. I feel self-conscious as a fashionably dressed, coifed, made-up adult, in the presence of hoards of confident teens. 

A great example of this confident and oblivious teenage nature happened yesterday as I witnessed a boyfriend-girlfriend pair at Barnes and Noble making out among the cookbook section. They had no qualms, they were laughing loudly, and they wanted everyone to focus on them. While sitting at the café a short distance away, I grew frustrated by the scene especially since they were deflowering the bookstore in front of Tyler Florence, Jacques Pepin, Mario Batalli, and Daniel Boulud. When I was in middle school and high school I always felt self-conscious and I was always chaperoned. These teens are empowered, comfortable in their skin, and prematurely mature. In Naperville, even when it's not graduation day, I believe kids rule. 

In Naperville there are also a lot of people doing just what I am doing now, hanging out. My scientific boyfriend and brother-in-law would argue that this activity can we witnessed in every city. However, over the past week, around 10:00 AM till noon at Starbucks, I have never seen a coffee shop so consistently crowded. It is bustling with teens (especially today), business men in meetings, students studying, mothers chatting about their problem children or marriage, old people reading or just staring into space, solo business men shouting through their blue tooth technology so the world can hear that they aren’t as delinquent as local gossip has it, more teens, single men oglers who watch the women walk by the front window, and mothers pushing strollers in and out of the door with a great struggle. Howard Schultz' idea of the third place continues to be well played out at Naperville's downtown Starbucks. 

It is not one particular demographic or even place within Naperville that defines this hanging out. There are people of all ages hanging out all over Naperville. On the river walk, at the frozen yogurt place (Red Mango!) I go to for lunch, at the coffee shops, at Barnes and Noble, up and down the streets of the downtown section of Naperville, ANYWHERE there is a place to sit is soon enough filled with people that want to take a break to hang out. This defines what I consider a more relaxed pace to Naperville - a more sociable, friendly Midwestern feel that is welcoming and warm. 

Just as I am proud of Pittsburgh, the civilians of Naperville are staunchly proud of their city. The term “Naper” describes schools, libraries, roads, stores, restaurants, time of year (Naper Days) etc. There are more bronze statues of Naperville V.I.P.s than one can imagine. I don’t think the Art Institute owns that many bronzes. Everywhere you walk or drive around Naperville you run into one. They have a pristine park district with a team of employees who make sure the lawns are manicured, the playground equipment is safe, and the signs are shiny and clean. They have the best school system in the country and every proud parent has the NNHS (Naperville North High School) or NCHS (Naperville Central High School) plaque with their child’s graduating class date displayed on their front lawn, on the back of their cars, and on their boast paraphernalia. They also have the best and most frequently used public library in the country, the best bank, and the best prairie running trails. 

No matter where you are from there are certain aspects of your community or city that make you proud. I will soon be among the Naperville young professionals, and I will soon delve into community and parish involvement to establish pride in the city. It is a friendly, clean, safe, and beautiful town, and I am ready to proudly call it home. Pittsburgh will always be my hometown, but this chapter of my life begs for something different than the Steel City. I am ready to move on.    

Lo

Once Upon a Time ...

I just read Louise Rafkin’s article on “modern love” from the New York Times published May 29^th. Her task as a journalist for the San Francisco Chronicle is to research and write about passionate and unique love stories. From her perspective her quest is an anthropological investigation because she claims to have never experienced the level of intimacy that her informants describe. She is ever the skeptic. She hears story after story where love is a pre-destined affair, a cataclysmic event, and an Earth shattering experience. The couples she interviews document their fated meeting, romantic courtship, and inevitable fairytale marriage, while she tries to brush aside the failures and shortcomings of her amorous relationships. 

I am not a skeptic and I believe in the powerful force of love, but I would place myself in the league of Rafkin’s shrink who advocates “love” as a verb or an act, rather than “love” as a noun, which magically descends on couples. I am an advocate for the practical, reasonable understanding of love that can be achieved by anyone if they set their mind to it. Love the verb is a selfless act that anyone can do. It is something that starts small and grows with time and commitment. I believe the derailing descent of love the noun is unsustainable and perhaps even a self-serving affair.

A repertoire of stories from my girlfriends and how they met their significant others came to mind while reading this article. Of perhaps 15 tales of first encounters and dates, there is one that fits the bill for Louise Rafkin’s uniquely romantic research. That is the ironic story of a friend who met her husband of Mexican heritage while eating Taco Bell at the Vegas airport, hung-over, weary eyed, and make-up free. He pursued her immediately and ended up switching seats on the plane to be next to her, to continue the conversation they started while waiting at the gate, get her number and ask her on a date when they were back in the great state of Ohio. I went to their wedding in October and they are very happily married.

The rest of the anecdotes are a little less interesting, less love at first sight. A couple of my friends met their significant other while drunk at a bar; a couple others were introduced by a mutual friend; some rekindled a friendship from high school or college; and some tried out the next man that complemented them after getting over a bad break up. To enhance their narratives of love found, they might turn to an experience that happened later in the courtship to unravel the romance of the relationship. Most don’t want to tell a dull story, so they start to create fables about first glances, happenstance encounters, and soft kisses. A lot of people want to create a fairy tale out of the relationship even if it does not exist.

Girls grow up learning about Cinderella, her Fairy God Mother, Prince Charming and his noble steed. The female maturity cycle is riddled with passionate, romantic, sweep-you-off-your feet love stories that shape our understanding of what love is supposed to be. From our youth when we learn about princesses who need to be rescued by a very handsome and rich prince; through our adolescent years when we learn the language of teen romantic comedies where the ordinary, unpopular girl gets wooed by the prom king; till we reach adulthood when the romantic dramas tell us that despite our reason and our existing sound marital relationship, there is still that fated someone out there that will offer us the burning love a la The Notebook that will re-instill vigor into our routine lives.

As an imaginative child who perhaps spent a little too much time on the interior of my mind, consumed by my own thoughts, fantasies and role playing, I used to imagine that during the couple weeks at the beach each year I had a summer boyfriend. I used to walk alone on the beach pretending to be talking to this imaginary boy. It was a relationship based on a combination of Grease and the episodes of Saved by the Bell with Stacey Kerosi.  I spent hours willing this fantasy to happen in real time and grew frustrated when year after year it never happened. I never had my summer fling song to sing when I came back to school in the fall. I wondered if it was me at the time, but looking back on it, how on Earth did I think I was going to partake in the real world, when I was walking up and down the beach alone talking to myself?

We are set up for disappointment, because the love we are trying to attain - - the love that is dramatic, mind-blowing, and all-consuming - - most likely will not hit us. This is not a woman’s fault. Rather, it is more that the straight man has no idea what women are spending their gossip sessions dreaming about. Instead of dwelling on the prince that will never come to wake you up from years of slumber, open your eyes to the possibility that love can grow between any two individuals with an initial chemistry.

In the novel, Middlesex, one of the most beautifully and poetically composed stories that I have ever read, the narrator, Calliope or Cal, states, “our lives are always more beautiful in writing.” We want to create something poetic, mythical, and impossibly unique about our relationships, our lives, and ourselves. We weave narratives together that give our love lives more meaning, more drama, because we think that is what the world wants to hear.  When my friends call me up and ask, “so, tell me about the boyfriend …” I say something like, “I don’t know … I am very happy … we have a lot of fun together … and I have nothing to complain about.” Very unromantic, very non-descript. However, I believe the richer parts of our relationships are meant to be private. The special moments that exist between two people with unique personalities can only be fully understood by those people. The excitement I get from my relationship can not be translated in its entirety to my girl friend on the other end of the line, because what makes me happy is not necessarily her dream scenario.

So instead of dreaming, planning your fairy tale life, and trying to make your relationship into something that it will never be, wake-up to the possibility that the life you are living and sharing with another person has yet to fully unravel and your continued contribution will make it even more fantastic. I promise that if you commit to practicing the act of selfless love you will live happily ever after.

Lo