Worldy Wanderings

I do not travel for the cities, or the sights, or the food; I travel because I know that a friend is waiting somewhere on the other side of the world, and I must make my way to meet them.

2012 held many travels for me: I started the New Year in Houston, on a multi-person pilgrimage to visit my college roommate, and ended the year in New York City, reconnecting with two ladies who  shared a magical half year with me in Paris many, many years ago. The extreme differences between the locations, the experience, and most importantly, the people, cannot be overstated.

Over the years, I have been blessed to cast a "wide net". I have been given opportunities to see new places and try new things. My memories have become a kaleidoscope. Colorful, rich, ever moving.   Several of my friends claim to recall a particular chapter in their life through music they loved, others through a favorite t-shirt they wore. One guy even told me that he thinks of his past in terms of which watch he was wearing (the rubber, water proof, colorful rock climbers' favorite, no less). The watches defined his sport obsession of the moment.

When I think of a year in my past, I inevitably characterize it in one of two ways:

1. Where was I working?, or
2. Who was I visiting?

This probably says a great deal about my personality, and I won't pretend to know what exactly that might be. Worst possible interpretation: workaholic with an occasional Skymiles problem. 

There are worse things.

I firmly believe that sometimes you are pulled--by a spontaneous desire, or fateful coercion--to certain places, and all to experience one particular event. If my normally controlled, planning-oriented self had waited the responsible 6 months before running across the pond for school, I would never have met or bonded with two incredible women. One from Florida, the other from the bustling mayhem of New York City.

Similarly, if professional dissatisfaction hadn't set in during 2010, I might never have spent months living in the tundra of Minnesota, half-hiding in the guest bedroom of one of my best friend's home. Without that experience, our friendship would have never reached the sort of complex state that allows us to communicate in simple texts, over the divide of continents, time zones, and life experiences.

I travel to build bridges--not to places, but to people. To encourage the sort of friendships that will likely define my life; to meet the friends whose influence will change the way I participate in the world around me. And when I return home, I create a new bridge for them to travel across. Together, the planes, the trains, the automobiles take us further into ourselves, rather than farther away from our roots.

 So, why do you do the things you do?

The Working Woman's Woes: An Overview

Why Such a Serious Series?!

Melanie, I feel your working woes.
But I don't endorse the cigarette.

After recognizing just how often my friends and I debate career matters, it became obvious that  a "how to get by when getting by is unforeseeable" series just might be in order. Eh voila. This career thing was born.

This is potentially the most sensitive topical area that the blog will ever cover: the workplace. Yes, I know. Some might argue that relationships are more dangerous to speculate online about, but Sex and the City removed any concessions for privacy in that arena. Tweens now sit around and discuss the proper way of "dumping a boyfriend"; i.e. "can you text him if you have only hung out twice?". Or if you are older (mature? debatable...) the questions are more suited to general romantic rules, such as "under no situation should you buy pets together", or "do not forget a birthday, no matter HOW much he/she protests a celebration."

 

No instead, I tackle relevant workplace generalities. We should be sharing the pain of career development, no? The scenarios from which these lessons are taken, hail from various personal experiences, those of close acquaintances, and the often-revisited "coming of age" tales of my mentors.

Some of the stories that I have learned from came to me objectively: I was data mining, and asked specific questions or advice about specific situations. Other stories that corroborate some of my soon-to-be-shared claims came from a more "informal" manner. Translation: wine and food opened the venting flood gates in college, during unemployment (the wine was of a lesser caliber then), and while holding the long vied for career positions. Years of informal research! Friend sharing over meals just tends to happen--and can be a grand source for vicarious learning! And all of my research leads me to highlight the following commonalities of career development:

1. Mentors: Get one. 
2. Navigating buy outs, mergers, and restructures.
3. Navigating sudden increases in work load. When there might not be an end in sight.
4. Navigating dress, drama and the deadly gossip chain.
5. Networking is not socializing. It just looks like it. 
6. Bills, bills, bills.  Yes, you have to pay them. On your own.

All of the issues above are important to me and to my friend set. So, I can only assume they bear some degree of relevancy for a professional class still working their way toward the "10 years in the field" mark. In my first installment, and in what is sure to be a revisited topic, I will be addressing Mentors. I can only hope that something will be useful, or at the very least, foster some conversation with whoever is reading this verbose little blog!

Oh to "Big Rock Candy Mountain"!

New adventures! I might not be able to leap from a high travel bridge and bungee jump (not for lack of trying), but I can discover open air trains in the wilds of West Virginia!

Don't laugh. It's a commitment people.

In the charming town of Cass, West Virginia, time seems to have slowed. Not stopped exactly, but moving with the sort of lethargy and contented quiet found only at historical landmarks and inside quaint little museums. I offer as an example the home of Earnest Hemingway in Key West. But with fewer felines. Or perhaps the lighthouse museums of the Chesapeake Bay area.  But with fewer sea gulls (thank goodness! hate those things). Or any other little topical structure that shares stone/ivy/assorted greenery creeping up its stone steps and wooden lattice work.

The object of the day trip to Cass is very simple: you are there to take a nice little open air train ride. Simply walk into the recreated train depot, chat briefly with the costumed attendant, wait for the whistles to sound, and climb on board the open air cabins for a little coal-engine trek through the woods. And if you are a member of my family, a.k.a. very very friendly, you befriend the adorable sister-brother twin toddlers peeking through the wooden slats as the tracks rush beneath our feet. And you might also feel compelled to learn the life story of the quiet Park Ranger assigned to your caboose. Who, as it turns out, is a native of the area and very knowledgeable about logging camps (even if he knows nothing about trains).

Granny, Mom, Aunt Connie and I were very excited. Despite the fact that I was on one of those senior bus tours (Abbott Tours, thank you for my name tag), and that our trip was sure to be a fast one, I was ready! Trains! Let's get into character!

Purchase conductor's hat. Check.
Bring licorice and coffee onto the train for sharing. Check.
Keep your ticket handy. Check....we wouldn't want to be "off boarded", now would we?
Offer seat to kind grandparents with the twin toddler set. Check.
Check your pocket watch for the time as the whistles blows.
...........ok, I forgot that accessory...

I also forgot thermal underwear. It was FREEZING. By the time we made it up the mountain, with the train backing its way up and Mom and I breaking the wind from our perch on the caboose, I was a pop sickle. And not cherry flavored. I was one of those Americana striped ones that has melted and then been refrozen, sticking to the paper in uneven, oddly colored clumps: I walked as if my knees were locked, my legs were gnarly branches, and my teeth chattered in time with the whistle blowing. Unattractive, I assure you. But I kept on talking to strangers!

All in all it was worth the cold: not only do I think that the quaint little town (it had a numbered map showing were the loggers lodged, where the post office was, etc.) was picturesque, but I befriended every Park Ranger on that train. The best of which let me, through some very persuasive wheedling, to climb over the railings with Mom's camera and capture some footage of an approaching train in the "switchback."

For those of you who aren't familiar with this term, it is a clever and simple section of track that is laid to avoid trains circling around a mountain in its attempt to ascend. We simply trekked along an extra 1000 ft of track, laid in a large Y fashion with the left fork descending and the right ascending the mountain, and reversed course. We paused in our descent to allow for an oncoming train to use the Y in wait, and allow us room to pass. It was curious. I wouldn't want to be the one who had to manually operate the "switch" on the ground. Apparently, they get left behind once a week. And, much as I enjoyed the day, West Virginia is not my future home!

Metafiction & gChat

One of my typical (no really) gChat conversations ~

Friend:  dude g'day!!

Me:  alllo!!! I was so about to send you an email; metafiction ring a bell?

Friend:  vaguely

Me:  I question its definition...broadest set of criteria ever, with the most convoluted definition http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Metafiction. How can strains of Chaucer be present in Vonnegut? Or Stephen King's Secret Window?

Friend:  yeahhhh...so!  fun story!

Me:  More than that, how can such a label exist, refuse to assert itself as a criticism style, and yet NOT allow itself to be read through the lens of another style?
Oh. You aren't interested.
hahaha.
where is my dorky friend when I need her? hahaha
story! go!

Really. Why do people put up with me?
In the end, the non-chatting Third Party that had originally asked me about the phenom known as "metafiction" really just wanted me to comment, and then use my piqued interest to share this picture. So, I'm guessing she didn't really care about metafiction either???

Hot Professor Michael, of the Neon Nation 80s Band

Photo courtesy of Neon Nation: The Ultimate Live 80s Experience
Oh, and Third Part Friend probably did also care about metafiction...but the story was better if she didn't. ;)

The Inaugural "A's & B's of Brunch"

Let's get the requisite mention of today's grand episode out of the way--after all, I was probably the only blogger on the east coast time who skipped mentioning the 5.8 earthquake. Today, Hurricane Irene attacked the Eastern seaboard, stretching her winds and sleeting rain from Carolinas to Massachusetts. Were the skies ominous and black over our mountains? Yes. Did the mum topple from its new hanging post (we JUST bought the thing, bah!) and bust its pot? Yes. Did some rain drops "SPLAT!" their way across our car windshields. Why, yes, yes they did.

But that did not stop life from continuing on. I PLANNED the inaugural A's & B's of Brunch! and we were going to honor it!!! Sisterita even agreed to contribute with a flourish of enthusiasm, by cooking some incredible fare! So, a stupid weather system was not going to threaten my plans. That's right Irene: you just mosey on along. Flooding? You take that right on back to the Atlantic! (But seriously, prayers for those experiencing flooding!)

 

Dollar Store Flutes!!!

 Sisterita and I did not intentionally try to honor our Floridian upbringing--but I think the mimosas and self-made home fries we supplied may have inched our gathering into the realm of "a hurricane party." We didn't have Cheetos--an essential to most hurricane parties, but by that logic Mom should have been electrocuted again. And, well, I don't think I am open to the latter event...I mean can a woman have lightening come after her FOUR times in one life?!? Frankly, best pre-planned hurricane shindig I have ever been responsible for!

[To be fair, my first attempt was my first weekend as a freshmen in the USF dorms, in the wake of Charlie and in anticipation of Ivan...and well, a third system. The name escapes me. The point is that I was armed with nothing more than goldfish, LOTS of toilet paper thanks to Mom's Sams's card, and some diet coke. Oh, and I was trapped with strangers. Yeah, it was fantastic. ]

I had two reasons for throwing the brunch: first, because I am obsessed with cutesy, girly domestics. But we all knew that. The second was to sort of "close out" a chapter in the lives of some of my dear friends. I have never mentioned it here before, but last year I held a position as an AmeriCorps*VISTA supervisor. Well, three of the ladies recruited for that program have now finished their first full year of volunteer service. With that achievement (people, you have no idea the sacrifices the AmeriCorps volunteers, through whatever branch they serve, make in order to improve the nation. Official shout out HERE!!!), we don't rightly know what is next for everyone. So, it seemed only fitting that the inaugural brunch at Chez Sandidge double as a reunion of faces and friends. And there was the added benefit of being able to pilot our official "brunch fare" to a friendly group not prone to judgement!

    



The FAMOUS, FABULOUS homefries. Sisterita is a genius. All I had to do, Gentle Reader, was monitor over and stove temperatures! Culinary brilliance....

I think Sisterita and I had a pretty successful affair! We had some easy listening/old rock'n'roll playing on the speaker system, a veritable FEAST of food, lovely company and some sparkling mimosas. Laughter, stories, catching up. It was a pleasure! Books were even exchanged! I can't tell you if they were the highlights, but a clarinet that haven't played in about 8 years was given new life, as was our keyboard...and the afternoon culminated in the inexplicable doning of various sized hats--Kentucky-derby-worthy floppiness to a Blossom-esque feather-adorned dome top--by three complete silly ladies. We just...well...we...oh, we just liked them!

Things we learned for the future:

• Must find a more efficient buffet style; this is tricky, young 20-something. You need to create "flow". Now, what that is exactly, I still don't know.
• Have the cream and sugar in small serving tins. Bah! Hostess-ing 101!
• Have a playlist ready to roll before the guests arrive. Dur!
• Wake up an extra 30 minutes early to get to the Farmer's Market (not because you necessarily need to buy anything, but simply because carrying that little "green friendly" shopping bag around will make you feel more accomplished about the coming event...as if it was an essential bit of multi-tasking.)
• Do not begin pre-heating the oil too early...uncommon mistake, but in an effort to be efficient, these sorts of mishaps happen.
• Pre-route the natural, "let's move to the living room" moment. You would think this would just happen. But sometimes you still need to make that announcement of sorts. Who knew?
• Buy Sisterita flowers for being an awesome cook!!!

[I feel that some of you may be disappointed that this post will in no way humiliate Sisterita or I...sorry? I am sure that we will make up for that in NO TIME.]