Selling short

And suddenly I'm on a roll? After more than a month of absence I'm churning out another post so soon? No, this isn't boredom. I got inspired all of a sudden by a friend's facebook status... and it wasn't even about porn.

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I went to an elite university for college. By elite, I mean that it's one of those schools where almost everyone wants to get in but only a select few manage to squeeze through. So imagine what an ego boost it was for me to have been one of the luckier ones. I must be a goddam genius! Or maybe I was awfully lucky during the entrance exams, considering that it was multiple choice and I happened to have my lucky marker at the ready. At any rate, that was probably the last time I ever thought of myself as being gifted with a superior intellect. It all went downhill, really really downhill, like a cliff, from thereon.

Anyway, let's fast forward to today. I open facebook looking for hot girls (which is one good reason to have a facebook account, by the way) when I chanced upon my first college crush.

Her status: "Early morning first day of school. Cold and still dark out. Making pancakes for breakfast & ******'s baon. Welcome to my world."

To the untrained eye, it sounds like a rant (hmm, untrained ear might have been more accurate - this is confusing for me). She sounds miserable and likely to sear her face down on the hot flat pan and drown herself in maple syrup. A desperate housewife about to explode. But I assure you, this is not the case.

To explain, let's go back to the good old college freshman years, when I was invincible and mighty and listened to grunge music because it was the "in" thing. There was this girl, nerdy-like, a bit on the plain side for the rest of the guys, but I was hooked. It was one of those weird circumstances where you spent the whole time in class wondering what she would in all probability order on our first date. That date would never happen. It was a potent combination of me being extremely insecure around the opposite sex and her being, well, awesome.

But all was not lost for the shy, bumbling 17-year old me. Technology gave me an opportunity to work around my bashfulness. What I could not say to her face, I was able to communicate through the wonder that is the telephone. I'd call her on weekends, and we'd talk. Nothing heavy, of course, mostly light chit-chat that never really headed anywhere. Kinda like this blog.

That went on for a year, but midway through I realized that there was little chance that it would progress to an actual date. The reason I forget, it was a long time ago, but there wasn't any bitterness at all. I can't recall most of what we talked about, but one particular conversation struck me that I have never forgotten it until this very day.

It was a sunny afternoon, I was lying on my back on the floor while on the phone with her. Hi's and Hello's worked their way into the usual light chatter. And then she let out a bomb: "Aren't you worried that you're failing Math?"

Curiously, at that particular point in time I didn't realize that I was failing Algebra and Trigonometry. I didn't mind my test scores, though I knew they were low. What a total bitch!

"Huh? Who said I was failing?"
"I saw your test scores. You haven't passed a single exam yet."
"Well, they're pretty close to passing anyway. I can still make up for it in the finals."
"You sure?" Okay, this bitch was getting on my nerves now.
"Of course I'm sure."
"Okay. I just don't get how you're still complacent. I can't stand the feeling of me getting low grades."

So she's not a bitch. She's the sweetest little thing in the universe as far as I was concerned! So she knows my scores, and notices how calm and collected I am despite of it. (In reality though, I was too dumb to notice that I was failing)

"Don't worry. I'm not."
"What do you think you'll be after we graduate?" How sweet of her to assume I would actually graduate! Isn't she a dear?
"I dunno, I haven't thought about it yet." What a fucking loser. "And you, what do you want to be when you graduate?"
"I want to have a family. Take care of my kids, my husband. Be a housewife."
"A housewife? Aren't you going to work?"
"I will, for a few years."
"Wait, aren't you selling yourself short here? I mean, you're at the top of our class!"
"No I'm not. I just study harder that the others."
"That's part of the point. Why work hard when..."
"When?" She cut me off... thank goodness.
"I mean, you could be anything you want to be, and you're going to quit one day to stay at home?"
"I don't know, I can't really picture myself not being at home. I love being part of a family. Someday, I want to have my own as well."
"You could do that and have a career, you know."
"I don't think I can."

That thought kept bugging me for a time. It was like knowing Einstein not coming up with the Theory of Relativity because he wanted to play catch with his dog all day. Or Stan Lee thinking up all these crazy superheroes and not writing comic books to do his laundry, or Jack Kennedy not boinking Marilyn Monroe because he had to sign some peace treaty or something that would end the cold war. Wasn't it Uncle Ben who said "With great power comes great responsibility"? Here was someone who consciously excelled in an elite university that most people only dream of attending, and she wants to sell herself short someday.

Me? No one would probably give a rat's ass. At 17, I still had trouble adding fractions. But this girl, top of her class, cute as hell, and able to make butterflies suddenly appear in my stupid teenage stomach, wanted to make pancakes for breakfast and iron her husband's slacks on weekends?

Life went on after that conversation. She graduated with honors, I took my sweet time and needed 4 more years to fulfill her prophecy. I sort of lost track of her amid all the parties, the booze and the hangovers. Just recently I got a chance to check up on her through facebook. She's got her own family now, still working but doting on her little ones.

She rarely posts anything on her facebook status, but this one that I chanced upon made me smile. She made it! It also made me realize that to become 'something', you've got to know what you really want out of yourself first. I guess I'll have to keep working on that. Hopefully someday, I'll also be able to sell myself short.

Hold the Viagra...

Writing's becoming a chore these days. Yeah, that's the excuse I'm giving for being too lazy to publish any posts recently. Sure there were days past when I'd be shooting off multiple posts a day, but I'm getting old I guess and these bursts come few and far between now. It's entirely possible that I could wolf down whatever is the literary equivalent of viagra to move things along, but why bother? If I don't wanna write, I don't need to, right? This is my blog, and I'll be as selfish as I want to be with it. It isn't like I'm getting paid for it, nor will I get a Pulitzer for my efforts.

To be fair though, there is a certain satisfaction that I get when people read my stuff. It's a boost to any writer's ego, so when I do write stuff up I enjoy people reading it. Thanks guys, for putting up with the load of crap I've rammed down your throats all these years.

*****

Some of you may be wondering how work has been for me these past few months.(Or at least I pretend that some of you give a hoot) Well, things are alright. Nothing spectacular, I haven't saved the world yet, but it's okay. For the most part, I'm learning to regulate how much work I'm actually able to take in. The early months have been an education on the phrase "biting off more than you can chew". So I've vomited a chunk of the excess and now am concentrating on getting the rest of it down. Understand that with my former place of employment, this wasn't a problem simply because there were less responsibilities. With the free rein I now have with my job, I feel like I've just gotten out of college desperate to lay my claim on the world.

Another thing that I've learned (or in this case re-learned) with my current job is the merits of taking public transportation. For loose change, I'm able to sit smugly in my seat and let the bus driver worry about the heavy traffic on Wednesday and Friday nights. And parking is the least of my worries when going out, so I can choose wherever bar or hangout I wish to go to without having to factor in the amount of parking space available. Of course, people watching is always a plus. Whenever anyone gets on or off, I mentally profile them. Their jobs, how old they are, is that guy gonna mug me tonight, did she get a good enough education, are they dating or just friends... you get the idea. Riding the bus along with the mainstream of society sharpens my people-judgement skills in a way.

Inside the office, I'm also learning with how to deal with people who are smarter than I am and yet are unable to understand what is expected of them. Not their fault, these guys were trained to work within the normal parameters of the corporate life, thus a weaker inclination think outside of the box. Wait, I'm not saying that's wrong, just that they are afraid to take risks or get their hands dirty. Me, I don't like playing things safe, that's no fun at all. One thing I do realize is that I need to figure out a way to be able to connect with these people so that they not only "get" what I'm driving at, but to also appreciate the benefits of risk taking every once in a while.

More on that in the future, I suppose. I don't really feel like talking about work just now.

*****

But what do I want to talk about? As usual, I don't know. I just felt the urge to tap on the keyboard tonight and this is what's coming out.

*****

Slightly tangential to the work thing, I've been overhearing stuff about money, how they feel they deserve more than they are actually getting. While this may have quite a lot of merit to it, the reality is that you will never really get as much as you deserve. That's just business. If you and every one else in a company are able to get as much as what you think you deserve, nine out of ten that company's going bust pretty soon.

I've always held the opinion that if you don't like the pay, then you can always quit and get another job. If you can't get another job that pays better than what you have now, then the problem lies with you, doesn't it? Of course, there will always be cases where the difference between what you think you should be making and what you are actually getting is humongous. If that's the case, (assuming you're correct in your computations) then I don't think you'd have any problems getting another job with a more justified compensation.

My point: stop whining and do something than just yakking your head off at the water cooler. Either quit or work harder to merit a raise.

A 6 month affair

I'm supposed to be working, playing catch up to the myriad tasks that I'm supposed to prepare for. It is a Monday tomorrow, the busiest day of the week. But I just can't pass up on this time to write. It's been a while, after all, and there is just no saying no to this little journal of sorts that I've been sharing.

*****

So this coming Thursday, I'd have been working for my new bosses for exactly 6 months. To tell you the truth, it doesn't feel like 6 months, it feels more like 6 years now. I'm not sure if that's a good or a bad thing, but definitely it's been enough time lapsed for me to look back and assess where I've been and where I'm going to.

6 months ago, I had no idea what the future held for me. I was on vacation in a foreign land, looking out the window into the freezing cold ether, cigarette in hand and a tiny whisky bottle by my side. I had just ended an 8-year relationship with my old job, and admittedly, I was scared shitless. Funny how I viewed my old job as a relationship, throughout all the frustrations and pressure and abject poverty, I loved that job. My moving on had nothing to do with hate nor indifference, just the realization that there was a bigger world out there, and that I wanted to be a part of it. Selfish, ambitious prick that I am.

The new job, or relationship, proved to be a giant leap in a totally different direction. After ditching the small town girl next door, I found myself in the arms of a career woman who took no shit from anybody. This wasn't Kansas anymore, welcome to the real world of players, hustlers and sharks. Didn't I say I wanted to be a part of the bigger ocean? Well, I definitely came to the right place!

In no time, I found myself overextended and entertaining feelings of inadequacy. There was no place for sugar-coating and excuses, and no points for trying, either. Either deliver or go home. So I was doing everything and anything, holding on to apron strings for dear friggin' life. After 2 months, my boss resigned, apparently seeking a slower pace. So I was left to my own devices, somewhere between limbo and f*cked.

It was somewhere at this point, in the middle of inhaling 2 packs of cigarettes a day, that I realized I was actually in a great position. Not everyone gets an opportunity to go from being a cog in a small family-owned company to getting first crack to carve out his own place in a global corporation. I was serendipitously caught at the right place at the right time, with fairly equal chances of success and doom. I liked my chances.

That was 3 months ago, so far I haven't gone that far in my quest. There are just too many brick walls that need to be hurdled. But I haven't thrown in the towel just yet.

Well, my impossibly insatiable mistress awaits. I'll let you know what happens in the next few days, but whatever the case I can safely say that I learned more in the past 6 months than all those 8 past years. Hopefully the learning continues, because there's a heck of a lot more out there.