Monday, March 30, 2009

"Or-a-gone"


Three weeks in Portland and I've already stopped pronouncing it "OR-A-GONE". And other fun stories about my initial jaunt into the Pacific Northwest.

This rain? Nonstop? I don't know how this is dealt with by law abiding citizens, but I am about 10 windshield wipes away from finding a way to clear the clouds here via some form of accellerated ozone depletion. If we all die, so be it - at least we'll be smiling from all that Vitamin D!

I pulled over to the side of the road last week because I saw a sign reading "Wolf Cubs". As in 100% ARCTIC. WOLF. BABIES. ... Adorable. And surprisingly legal to own as pets in Oregon, along with pretty much any other exotic or wild animal. It might have been the only thing technically legal about the man with the swastika tattoo selling the little munchkins.

While Andy and I walked along the beaches of Ecola State Park this weekend, I came across a message in a bottle. I'm not even kidding - it was a letter rolled up and corked into a Boylan's Creme Soda bottle, and it had washed up on shore. I opened it, and to my disappointment it wasn't from who I hoped. It was instead from Nik, and it began with this:

Dear Grandpa,
Today is your funeral ...


What followed was a heartwarming letter reliving happy memories and inside jokes, good times lost and the hard times that loss was bringing now. It made me think of my own grandpa, who I haven't seen since he died when I was in 5th grade. The bottle had begun to leak and smear the ink, so I'm letting it dry and will lend it back to the sea for someone else to find when I get the chance.


We also saw some stunning stick man warning signs, but that's for a whole new post (you think I'm kidding).

Oregon is a full service gas station state. I did not know such a place existed, but I have to say it's a little strange, and being a bit of a DIY freak, I don't really like tipping for something I've always done on my own. It's not like we're talking about replacing the engine here, we're talking about refilling the gas tank using the same buttons, card swipes and tubes we're all very familiar with (except you Oregonians, eh?). Am I being silly? Does everyone tip? Am I a miser if I don't? What else is full service here -- nightly tuck-ins? Now THAT would be awesome.

Portland's music scene is fantastic.
Or so I've heard. But based on the local FM radio selections, I'm a little confused. There seem to be about 15 stations, and I'm pretty sure at least 7 of them are Christian. Just tonight I was flipping through and happened upon one of my faves from back when I was all about that friendly bearded hippie and I wonder what, exactly, I found so "awesome" about this song:

When the toast is burned and all the milk has turned and Captain Crunch is waving farewell 
When the Big One finds you let this song remind you that they don't serve breakfast in hell

I don't know what it is about cereal allegories, but doesn't that just strike right where it hurts to achieve the intended lightning bolt of warning? No breakfast in Hell? WHAT?!?! Sweet Baby Jesus, call my hitman and cancel that "appointment" today - I can't imagine afterlife without my Wheaties.

---

Right now I'm listening to Lambchop's Kurt Wagner croon sweet nothings into my iTunes library and it's putting me into a peaceful Sunday calm. I'll take that over Satan-steals-Cheerios any day.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Fake it 'til you make it ... unless that's going to break it


That title will appropriately be filed away under "Never write a self help book because people will quickly come to hate you". And I'm going with it anyway.


I got my first dose of "corporate life" in a foreign country, India, where acronyms flow like a river to the sea and the only thing that keeps these 2-to-45 letter "words" from becoming an entity unto themselves is the fact that there is no "i" in team - and acronyms? They just don't play well with others. That includes me.


I have always thought there is something winning about the phrase "fake it 'til you make it". Let me be clear that I don't mean to imply that credentials and skills aren't necessary. Here's how I see it: If you always say "I can't" to opportunities beyond your scope of knowledge (or SOK), you're saying no to the chance for a speed date with a skill set. Any language instructor will tell you that you'll learn faster and speak more confidently if you fully immerse yourself in both the language and the culture.


But in the business world, it's a bit different. When you're at a new job it is part of the drill to be so overwhelmed with information that your eyes begin to glaze over at the mention of another process or strategy, or the 10,000th introduction. I guess that's what I mean when I use "fake it". Because no one gets it exactly right the first time. I can't tell you how many times in the past two weeks I've sat in a training session going "holy moses, I think I get it!", only to walk out to my cubicle and go wait, what was that about? And in the meantime I've also forgotten how doorknobs work. But you give it time to sink in, and the concept will come back. You'll "make" it.


Acronyms, however, are a different ballgame. You can't "fake" that, and you shouldn't try. I mistook what I thought was an "Indian thing" for what is actually a corporate thing. A Frankenstein language of portmanteaus and unjustifiable letter-pairings - NO! -
caboodlings, slathered together in a monstrous incongruity from all levels of every division, support group and project launch imaginable. AND YOU HAVE TO KNOW THEM ALL. Seriously. Just get it over with. Start an index. A gant chart. A Six Sigma Methodology for acronym documentation. Whatever. But don't glaze over those little buggers, or you're going to regret it when your boss comes screaming at you for not completing the DART, REFLM, tracker a la mode, etc. Bite the bullet and ask that it be spelled out - literally - when you have no idea what the iSPAWN division does (I Secretly Prance Around While Naked).

And good luck, friend. May the *GoFWo be with you.

*Gods of Fake Word-ology

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Yo ho yo ho, a jetlagged life for me

This month has brought with it a few firsts for me. I backed up my MacBook (I've had it for two years ... my bad). Andy and I moved to Wicker Park/Ukrainian Village in Chi-town, and I greedily consumed the world's best burrito at the frequently imitated but never duplicated La Pasadita, just two blocks away. Oh, I also began a 100% travel position with Intel in Portland, from which I write this post.

The project itself is a fantastic one, complete with pirates, magic beanstalks and social media campaigns. I have thus far found myself surrounded by bright, creative minds who are teaching me far more than they might realize. (If you're reading this, guys - thanks. I'm taking notes and plan to kick ass.) This opportunity is an exciting one for me, and challenging. I'll be frank about it: that makes me love it even more.

But some challenges are ... well, challenging. I'm back to hotel life again. As it is set up now, I'll be here for two weeks at a time and then head home for a weekend. Lather, rinse, repeat, month after month. I would be lying if I said that wasn't hard for me. There's Andy, who I'll miss like crazy and that goes without saying. There are the cats, who just might nuzzle Andy to death from lack of attention and play. There's the amazing new apartment and neighborhood I got to spend a whole two weeks in before being absent 75% of the time.

... and then there are the oft-denied upsides:

  • Without my constant requests for footrubs and HGTV/Food Network/MTV/History Channel marathons, Andy's grades will skyrocket, not that you can really improve much on a 4.0. (I still like to credit that to my working in Houston last semester).
  • If anyone gets a cat's ass to the face in the middle of the night, it ain't gonna be me!
  • Portland is beautiful. My work has granted me the chance to really experience great places, both abroad and around my own country. But even more rewarding are the connections I've made with the people in those locales, and believe me - many of them are FAR more traveled than I. That means I always have ample opportunity to learn about and from them, and it helps me keep my end-goals in clear focus.
  • Absence makes the heart grow fonder. If you don't believe it, try it. If you dare.
If you're worried about the long-distance thing, or have the itch to go somewhere and try something new but are feeling that gut-wrenching fear of the unknown, here is my advice: Give yourself the benefit of pushing through that knot and give it a try. Just once. See how it feels on the other side of a tough decision, and then judge whether the grass is greener. Either way, you'll come out of it a more experienced human being, who, at the very least, can say you gave it a try.

And if you're looking for ideas, try Portland. I hear they've got incredibly cool IT consultants looking for people to hang out with tons of really tall trees.