The Sandwich Tree

I would be remiss if I did not speak about my EAF/NELA/SLFA/Sallie Mae days in Seattle. By now you've probably gathered that getting into the workforce for me was no small feat. Graduating in August 2001 with a Psychology degree and the subsequent tanking of the economy didn't bode well for my immediate success on the job market. It took awhile.

In January 2003, after a vehement Eme Ashe defied her family's demands and returned to Seattle, a miracle occurred. I found a temporary opportunity only weeks into my third attempt at making Seattle stick. It was a 90 day assignment processing student loans. I think it paid $10.00 an hour or something close to that. I was elated. 90 days turned into 3 1/2 years. My supervisor realized she couldn't live without me and hired me on full-time after 10 weeks. She recognized my abilities and told me her goal was to get me, "up and out." And she did.

In August 2004 I was promoted into an Account Manager role. It was my first promotion, my first Exempt level position, my first feeling of, "ok, alright, I'm doing this adult thing, I'm going places." I met my new team. What a diverse group of personalities! We had N, who was pretty much coasting, despised by management, and simply biding her time. Then there was K, who was an overachiever, attributing meaning to every minute detail that in the end proved meaningless. It was her strength and her weakness. I would hire her in a second but I wouldn't want to be the one monitoring her blood pressure. L, well, at first L was sitting outside of the room that held the Account Managers. It was a physical distinction. Her job was different than ours and for some reason, that meant she had to sit alone. Sad. L, I would also hire in a second. Ridiculous attention to detail, reliable, hard working employee. Real, honest, funny, person. Last, but not least, is D. D was pretty much the opposite personality of everyone on the team. A morning person, almost always positive, usually very talkative...we needed her, my God we needed her. When the rest of us were too busy with our spreadsheets (K & L) or too busy being sleepy and cranky (me,) D was giving friendly customer service and providing the light we all need to lure us out of our spreadsheet/cranky caves.

Occasionally we would venture to the nearby neighborhood cafe, The Sandwich Tree, and feast on breakfast sandwiches, coffee, BLTs, or bagels with cream cheese and tomatoes, all while talking about the somewhat surly employees. This weekend I had lunch with D & L. It was a happy reunion; maybe a goodbye? We had our own Sandwich Tree complete with bagels, cream cheese, and tomatoes. Mmm.

I love you ladies! Thanks for lunch! Thanks for the memories! Thanks in advance for the future memories! I would hire you both - you are forever in my pipeline of candidates and friends. :)

Spy-ders

They are not spIders, they are spYders. I feel like they are spying on me. All of a sudden they appear as if out of nowhere, and sometimes they travel in packs. As I approach, they freeze. Don't they have like 20 eyes or something? They're always watching, calculating, planning, and then, BAM, trying to escape. Don’t worry, I am not going to post a picture of a spider on here. Ew. I just thought since they have come up in recent tweets and posts that they deserved a special mention.

Seattle has spiders like this east coaster has never seen. I remember flies, crickets, grasshoppers, cicadas (ew, those damn 17 year cicadas and their shell litter,) and centipedes. Gross. Centipedes are gross and fast. I always had to have my Dad kill them. Unfortunately, he was rarely (ok, never) up at 1:00 in the morning when they would run across the floor of the basement. Spiders? Oh sure, we had spiders. But we did not have spyders. These west coast, wood spiders are huge. HUGE. Like, huge. The last place I lived was a house with a basement. Error upon error. These spyders came in every oraface they could find. The ones in the basement and garage, well, *gulp*. There was one in the bathtub once that almost ate my roommate. Seriously, I am totally, in no way, at all using hyperbole.

I've learned a lesson over the years that came in handy last night as dualing spiders spyed on me: always have a can of poison. Always. I sprayed those suckers, they plummeted off the wall to their death, and I sprayed them again.

During grad school I had a somewhat nice, first floor apartment. One Friday night, I came home and in the hallway (thankfully, outside of my apartment,) was a hole in the ceiling, or so it seemed. It was large, mostly round, and dark. Well, I knew it wasn't a hole and I also knew it was something very, very bad. I wasn't sure what to do. I knew it was a spider, I just didn't know exactly how big. It was high up, too high for me to get close to, which really, was ok. I went inside, closed my apartment door, and stared at the "hole" through my peephole. My neighbor across the hall came out of her apartment, and as she was locking her door, noticed the spider. I kid you not, she ducked. DUCKED! I know this because I was watching the events of the hallway unfold through my peephole. So, what does she do? She leaves!

I paced around, my heart racing. I knew I could not leave this situation unaddressed. I drove to the store. I purchased poison. I drove home. I dragged my chair within a few feet of the beast. I climbed on said chair, pointed, aimed, and fired. And then darted away to watch. Ladies and gentleman, I wish for the sake of arachnophobics everywhere that I was exaggerating the course of this night or the size of the spider. It was the largest I have ever seen and I hope to never relive this experience. As it was realizing its fate, it stretched out to demonstrate its full girth. It traveled a few feet along the wall to show off. I watched live, through my peephole, then live again. My best, honest, hand on the Bible, estimate is that its leg span was six inches. SIX INCHES. Now, that includes probably an inch of body but toe-to-toe, I would say six inches. SIX INCHES. Thankfully, I lived to tell the story.

And the moral is, say it with me folks: always have a can of poison!

Laughter in the air

I just laughed at a candidate during our interview. I couldn’t help it, she was Anna Kendrick’s character from “Up in the Air.” I think she studied the movie for tips because she nailed it. I’ve laughed at candidates before but it’s usually more of laughing with them. This time, she was completely serious and I laughed, playing it off as a cough…I’ll never know if I was successful in my lame cover-up attempt but she didn’t seem to miss a beat. Wow. I started to ask her questions just to entertain myself. I’m a mean recruiter! In the end I may end up hiring her and she can change our organization from the inside out while learning a little about life in the process. Man, I think I need to watch that movie again tonight.

I’ve been thinking about my new full-time recruiting gig and it may re-direct my career long-term. I can see myself being successful specializing, rather than being a generalist and handling a bit of everything. Down the road I can take all the tips and tricks I know and share them with other people. I’ve often thought about working/volunteering at a college career center or working for an outplacement company. I don’t want to be the one “firing” people like George Clooney’s character in “Up in the Air” but I would love to help them transition, prepare their resume, and decide their next step. Someone with an I/O degree and a strong recruiting background would be good at that. Hmm.

I could do HR, work myself up the ranks, master employee relations, and hold a company’s entire liability on my shoulders. I could do that…then again, I’m not sure I want to. I’ve had the opportunity in my current role to grow and I could have exerted the initiative I saw in the candidate today to take on a lot more than I did. I’ve asked myself a few times, “Why didn’t I seize that opportunity to terminate that employee? Why am I suggesting that my boss handle this situation rather than tackling it myself?” Maybe, it turns out, the direction I’ve been heading was undetectably wrong. Now that I’m moving into a full-time recruiting role and taking on some college recruitment, things will change. My career path is a lot more up in the air, and I think I like it that way.

Here I go again

On a day-to-day basis my life is not very exciting. Anyone who has read this blog knows that. My current list of things-to-do includes goodies like, “make doctor’s appointment” and “drop stuff off at Goodwill.” Yesterday I cancelled my gym membership (that is one thing I can check off my list!) I realized it was my first real step toward ending my relationship with Seattle. No more gym. Soon I will need to find a new gym, and a new doctor, and a new dentist, and a new hairdresser, and a new bank, grocery store, post office, everything. It’s exciting and overwhelming at the same time.

I really am alone huh? When I look around my apartment at everything waiting to be done, it hits me. Who is going to take that table apart? Me. Who is going to get rid of that old bookshelf? Me. Who is going to scrub this place clean? Me. Who is going to dodge the spiders in the storage closet to clean it out? Me. I never thought I would be going though this life alone but I am. For the most part I really am comfortable in my singleness, my aloneness. Sometimes though, just sometimes, it makes me sad and it makes me angry. Where would I be if I was making life decisions with someone else? What would I have, what would I be doing? Who would I be? Why don’t I have my person? They could make me better; I could make them better. They could help me take apart the table; I could help them take apart the table. We could be moving together. Nope, it’s just me and that will have to be ok, and it is, most of the time.

I think the next few weeks are just going to fly by until suddenly, it will be time to go. I feel myself starting to get sad and a little scared. I’m used to moving (used to it and downright sick of it,) but I’ve lived in Seattle for 9 years. That is a lot of years. The last time I lived somewhere that long was Pittsburgh and it was just as hard to leave. I remember staring at the city from Mt. Washington, taking in the beauty of the lights, rivers, and bridges, trying to convince myself it was ok to leave. The city would always be there. Seattle will always be here (well, until the “Big One” hits of course.) I can’t remember the last time I was in Pittsburgh and I don’t know the next time I will be in Seattle. Here I go again on my own. Sing it.

"An' here I go again on my own
Goin' down the only road I've ever known
Like a drifter I was born to walk alone
An’ I’ve made up my mind
I ain’t wasting’ no more time"

Not talking about the weather

In light of my possible decision to post all weather-related messages elsewhere, I am going to try to not mention the weather at all in this post. Except that I already did twice. Dang it! What does it mean that I only have comments related to weather? Is it that interesting? That forever worthy of my constant attention? That dominant in my life? Apparently.

Insert sound of crickets chirping here.

I’ve been thinking about my first trip across these great United States. The speeding ticket/pseudo drug bust in South Dakota was really the best story and I’ve already told it. I do recall passing through Timothy McVeigh’s hometown the day of his execution. We (J and I) bought a paper. It was big news. From there we headed west and the highlights were really the Corn Maize and Wall Drug. At that time we were both still naïve enough to think these may in fact be interesting sights to see along our drive. They weren’t. Though, I do give kudos to Wall Drug for their commitment to advertising and anticipation.

The traditional tourist spot we stopped at was Mt. Rushmore. I found the faces carved in the mountain much smaller in person than I expected, or I suppose they appeared much smaller than I expected. Fine, maybe I thought we would get a lot closer than we did. I wanted to be nose-to-nose. We drove through Wyoming where the interstate is red, like millions of bricks have been crushed, smoothed, and laid to rest. Wyoming is pretty and everything you would expect: hills, grass, hay, fences, farms, cowboys, and a lot of wide open spaces. Ok, I’m not sure I actually saw a cowboy but it wouldn’t have surprised me to see one just riding on by. Classic country western music played in my brain the whole time I was in the state.

From there we drove across the oversized, under populated state of Montana for what felt like 100 years. It’s big. The sight of the mountains kept us going as did the knowledge of being on the verge of saying, and meaning, “We are almost there!” Our last night was spent in the Idaho panhandle, near the “French place” I now know how to pronounce, Coeur d’Alene (core-da-lane.) Finally, we made a brief stop on I-90 to take in the beauty of central Washington and the Columbia River. And while I’m sure J wanted to throw me off the viewpoint into the river below after traveling together for such a long time, we simply took in the view, took a deep breath, and finished the final two hours of our journey.

The End.

PS: Ack, it’s going to be 90 degrees today! Whew, sorry, I held out as long as I could.

Green bubble wrap!

Not taking the bus for awhile made me remember how much fuel for the blog can come from a mere bus ride. For example, this morning, while adjusting my seated position, my hand accidentally grazed the gentleman next to me. Grazed the side of his butt! I swear it was an accident. I almost commented to him, “Whoops! Sorry about grazing your butt there!” then thought better of it. I could try to turn this into a thoughtful metaphor for life but it’s not. Sometimes you are going to inappropriately, accidentally grope a stranger. It happens.

I’m back at work and I don’t feel stressed. The weather is perfect, my boss is at home, my co-worker is on vacation, and I can just take the day to catch-up. First things first, sign my offer letter and fax that sucker back to my new boss. Secondly, finish this blog post (What? I’m working on my follow through ok?) Third, read 300 emails. Fourth, take a walk in the perfect weather. Fifth, have a few meetings. Sixth, go to a special work event! Seventh, go home.

I’m in the home stretch here. During my days off I packed and packed and packed. I bought 100 feet of green bubble wrap from u-haul and it’s almost all gone! I would say I am 80% packed with just the essentials remaining. I have also taped off an area in my living room to represent the size of my Relo-Cube from ABF to make sure I can fit what I want to bring. If my 7 year old, crappy Ikea dresser doesn’t fit…hmm…oh well!

I’m ready to set moving dates, reserve my Relo-Cube, bribe my friends to help me load it, and get my next adventure started. Over the next 6ish weeks, my last in Seattle, I will walk around Greenlake, visit with friends, eat sandwiches from Paseo, revisit my favorite spots, and say “thank you” and “goodbye” to what has been my home for the past 9 years, all while occasionally groping strangers on the bus. Bliss.

Eme Ashe Weather

So...........I'm thinking about creating a special "Eme Ashe Weather" blog. But then what would I talk about here?

Out with the new, in with the old

85 degrees or higher is coming to Seattle this week. Summer is finally going to make an appearance. I’ll call it an appearance until I know how long it intends to stay. It may soon be classified as a visit, we’ll have to wait and see. Legitimately hot weather in Seattle means one thing: get a fan and get one now. So I did.

Over the years I have monitored the weather diligently through various mediums, beginning with the television, then the internet, and now via iPhone. If a heatwave is coming I know about it, and yet so many times I have waited until it was too late to buy a fan. I would wait until sweat was trickling down my back when exerting zero energy or until I had spent more than one sleepless night staring at the ceiling cursing the heat. I’m not sure what we do with our fans in Seattle but it seems the heat surprises us and we can’t recall where we have stored our fans or who we loaned them to. We have to go by new fans just to get through those few days of heat.

See, in Seattle very few people have air conditioning. If you go back and read through my weather posts you’ll see why. It rarely is hot enough to use a fan, let alone an air conditioner. (For example, it’s July 4th and still overcast, 59 degrees, and probably on the verge of raining.) There are, of course, those few days or weeks that, while we welcome summer with open arms, tend to make us remember why we don’t live south or east of here. In Seattle, the sun shines high and bright for long days. Houses and apartments bake all day long until the air temperature inside is higher than the air temperature outside. Without a fan, this leads to a sauna-esque setting throughout the entire living space. The nights are short and don’t cool much so until the weather’s “fever breaks,” well, life isn’t much fun.

Last year we had record heat. 104 degrees. In the 90s or higher for a week straight. My house was literally, (and I’m using the word literally correctly here,) 100 degrees. I slept on the floor of my kitchen in front a fan with the door open. I worked late every night to remain in the air conditioning; I tried making an air conditioner out of ice, a Styrofoam cooler, and a fan. I tried to buy a fan, or ten, but every store was sold out. It was awful.

Yesterday I made a preemptive strike, finally. I walked the fan aisle of Fred Meyer considering my choices. There were tower fans, small tower fans, dual window fans, rotating fans, turbo fans, and even fans with rain sensors. They were tempting but I had tried them before. I needed a fan that would move as much air as possible with a reasonable about of noise, for a reasonable price. My choice was clear. I didn’t need a fancy, new, circular, rotating, turbo charged fan. I just needed an old, square fan that pumps air through the room like water from a fire hose. I bought a classic box fan for 20 bucks and I may just go buy another.

Come on heat wave, I am ready for you this time! And fan, you and your soon-to-be-adopted brother are coming with me to Asheville!

Nine Years, Plus and Minus

I spent some time during my morning coffee thinking about my North West adventures. What have I done in this part of the country over the past nine years?

Hiked in the Olympics and Cascades, saw the Pacific ocean for the first time, swam in Lake Tahoe, gambled in Reno, drove across the Golden Gate bridge, sailed to Alaska, wined and dined in Vancouver, B.C., drank and danced at Oktoberfest in Leavenworth, WA, saw live music in Portland, bought some Twain at Powell’s, learned to love wine, coffee, microbrews, Thai food, and myriad other foods I would never have tried 10 years ago, learned to appreciate all different types of people, worked my first full-time job, got my Master’s degree, found my career path, got hit by a drunk driver, then got hit by another drunk driver, went whale watching, saw Mt. Rushmore, hiked at Mt. Rainier, camped at Mt. St. Helen’s, took in countless MLB and NFL games, ate good food, met good people, and overall had a good time. I’m sure there is much more but it is hard to sum up 9 years in a paragraph.

What do the next nine years hold? I suppose only time will tell. I would like to become a homeowner, paint my walls, know my niece and nephew, reconnect with old friends, kiss all the babies I haven’t met yet, fall in love with the east coast again, fall in love with someone, not fall out of love with someone, not have someone fall out of love with me, learn a little about photography, learn a little about Spanish, finish one of the novels I have started writing in my head, get better at my job, get better at giving, and maybe adopt a puppy or something else someday. That plus lots of football watching and a few road trips and I’m good.

East coast and the next nine years, here I come. Though, I will miss these sunsets.

What is blog worthy?

It’s been three days since I’ve blogged anything and that is the most amount of blog-free time I have allowed to pass since I started. It’s probably a good thing because I never wanted to set the expectation I would have something blog-worthy to say every day. Case in point, I have nothing blog worthy to say today but I am blogging anyway

Let’s see, today I am home, back in the city, back in my earplugs to block out the door slamming, the bus, the constant weed wacking, the dinging of the elevator, and everything else that involuntarily makes my shoulders hunch and my blood pressure rise. Oh sure, I am never happy and all I do is complain. True, but there are a lot nicer, quieter places than this to live and I have been kicking myself for the past 10 months for my poor choice. It’s my fault and it would be easier if I could blame somebody else, but alas, I cannot. Today I paid my rent for month 11, which thankfully means I have only one more month on my lease. I inquired with my landlord about getting out of that last month and, while it’s possible, it is a bit of a hassle and will probably cause my head to explode. I have a lot of decisions to make and rushing through them to get out of this place in a few weeks is probably not an added stressor I need to put on myself. So, I’ll saw off the rest of my left arm and leg and pay the rent for month 12.

That phone call I mentioned earlier did not go well at all. It lasted 17 minutes, which is not a good sign. I could tell the answers I was giving were not the right ones. In many ways I am pleased with this failure on my part and frankly, I didn’t try very hard. In fact, I almost cancelled the phone call. I need to focus on and commit to the life I have decided on, the letter I still need to sign, and the new, quiet, place to live I still need to find.

I am starting to stress about the cost of all of this. The Dow continues to plummet and my iBook is still dead, dead, dead. I thought maybe a few days of rest would magically heal it. I would come back from vacation, hold down the power button and hear that “click” of acknowledgment. No such luck. Eme Ashe is considering offering sponsorship opportunities. Like, want some advertising? I’ll put your company information all over my car for the drive across the country! I’ll stop in each city and hand out fliers! No problem! Or…well, actually that is my only idea so far but I am taking suggestions!

I found a three bedroom townhouse near Asheville that I could rent for less than I’m paying for my current one bedroom apartment. It is a little ways out of town but that is ok with me. It’s an end unit, looks small but nice, and the owner wants to sell it in a year or two. Perfect. I think with the cost of utilities it would prevent me from being able to save to actually buy my own place someday so it’s probably out of the running. I’m hoping he can’t rent it this month and is forced to reduce the rent in which case he will remember that I asked him to, “keep me in mind.” It also appears there is a brand-new, end unit, townhouse in that same community for sale. If only. Stupid me and my stupid financial incompetence and failure to plan more than 30 seconds in advance. I bet my mortgage would be less than this guy wants in rent. I have, however, decided that the townhouse lifestyle would be an excellent choice even if the location isn’t “perfect.” Low maintenance, few neighbors (end unit, end unit!) a small backyard to BBQ, probably three bedrooms so my family can visit, and I could potentially live there forever. I don’t see myself really needing or wanting more than that. I never want to move again, after this time of course. And frankly, one of my biggest fears is waking up in Asheville, in an apartment, hearing my neighbor doing laundry or slamming doors, and realizing that not only do I live here, I have to work here too.

Like, I said, this is not truly a blog worthy post but these are my thoughts from the past few hours and days. If you made it to the end I am impressed!