Ask, and You Shall Receive?

My life might be close to being shambles in many different, sometimes completely unrelated areas, I might drink too much, I might be home sick, I might be guarded and suspicious that my dude will never commit to me the way I want him to, I might be afraid, slightly insecure and a little bit angry.

But yesterday I took charge of one area of my life. I did something absolutely terrifying that took a lot of guts on my part. I did something terrifying and was (finally!) rewarded for it.

After six months of working at my company, I asked for a raise.

I was afraid to hear a negative answer. When my boss called me into his office for a chat at the end of that same day I sent him an email with my raise request, I was fully prepared to keep my face as straight as possible and not let any disappointment seep through to the surface.

He is always an intimidating dude when it comes to discussing serious financial things. He is the type of a person who has the "fuck you" face even when he says yes to something. I nearly crapped my pants at the thought of going into his office and sitting down, one-on-one, to discuss all matters concerning my personal financial security.

But I heard something entirely beyond my expectations. I heard that I am probably the best employee they currently have at the company and that even though it is typically not within the company's policy to give employees raises so soon after their hire, that I was absolutely worth being dangled a proverbial monetary carrot in front of.

And who was I to disagree?

Granted, the raise, as I was told, would not be a great amount. And I would not see the increase in my paycheck until the end of January...

But I did it. For the first time in my life, I asked for a raise. And for the first time in my life, not only did I received it, but I was also validated as a kick-ass employee that I always suspected I would grow up to be.

And, damn, it feels good to be rewarded!

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Money Matters

Let's talk money for a moment. What we all spend most of our days trying to earn. After all, regardless of what our ultimate goal in life is - love, acceptance, power, popularity or expensive yachts and Brazilian models - money plays an important part in every achievement.

I was always the kind of person who believed that if I worked hard enough, money (a reasonable amount) would come my way and I don't have to worry about making more or less than the person sitting next to me. Basically, that I would be rewarded for the labor that I put into my work. From the age of 16 to approximately the age of 26, I was kind of following the mantra of waiting until I get rewarded for a job well done, instead of going into my boss's office and stating it directly to him or her. Like, hey, I think I need a raise.

But a couple of months ago, when I was in the process of looking for jobs, my former co-worker sent me an article from, I believe, The New York Times or some other legit and important source. The article didn't come as a surprise but it alarmed me. Above all, it resonated with me because I recognized that I was probably one of those people that the article was talking about.

You see, the article stated that women entering the workforce even with a higher education expect to receive less pay than men.
"Whoa", I thought, "And here I am just expecting my future bosses to give me a just salary, on par with everyone else's pay. Here I am, too scared to say that my salary might be too low for my level of expertise and dedication and what is expected of me..."

I read on. After five years at the same job the difference in pay gets larger with women expecting that they will make eighteen percent less than men even with increased experience. Women also expect to see promotions at a slower rate than men. The fact that women expect to earn less than men could be causing them to take jobs that pay less. The fact that men expect more could have an effect on them getting more in the way of salaries and promotions.

Mind-boggling. But, like I said, not surprising. I always got slightly uncomfortable when asked about an expected salary at a job interview. I was always afraid that if I aimed high, I would be denied a job position. I was scared to ask for a higher starting pay because I thought that I needed to prove myself first.

"I'll prove myself," I thought, "And then they'll see how good I am and reward me."

But the article contradicted my predictions. I actually had to ASK for more money. I had to believe in my self-worth the minute I stepped my foot into that door for salary negotiations.

And that's what I did for my job in Singapore.

You see, prior to flying out there for a two week trial period, I was offered a salary range in the email from an HR manager at the office there. I eyeballed the salary and decided for myself that the lowest range was pretty unacceptable. Regardless of the amazingless level of the job opportunity, I simply would have had to refuse the job offer because I crossed out the possibility of living under a cardboard box half-way around the world.

After almost two weeks of me being there and seeing what my job position would be all about, the HR manager called me into her office to see if wanted to sign my contract to move to Singapore and to also talk salary figures.

Now in architecture, we don't have any fancy sign-on bonuses or additional monetary incentives, like many of my counterparts with similar education levels might be getting. No, what I was given was a flat all-inclusive salary and a housing allowance. It was slightly higher than the lowest number in my salary range. I could have settled for it. I could have said yes.

But I remember the article. What's the worst that can happen if I say no to this offer? They can withdraw the job offer? So what? I have skills and capabilities that can probably lend me a fine job in the US, even in this struggling economy.

"What do you think," the HR manager asked carefully.

"Um..." I paused, "Well I have to be honest... I was hoping that the offer would be slightly higher. I have to consider all of these expenses that I will have each month. I have to think about my student loans that i have to pay, in US dollars."

I froze in my seat waiting for an answer.

"Well, you have to keep in mind that the standard of living in Singapore is slightly less expensive than in the US. You also have to remember that as a US citizen, you will already be getting more than an average Singaporean would. You have to consider all these things..."
"I know.. but I just don't feel comfortable accepting something that I am not sure would be enough to cover all of my expenses. Can I think it over tonight, and talk about it with my family, and get back to you tomorrow?" I said.

The HR manager agreed. She didn't seem too pleased but she also, contrary to my expectations, didn't leap across the table in rage and tried to choke me out after hearing such a bold refusal.

Three hours later I came home, ready to sit down and figure out my budget, expense by expense. I checked my email. There was a new message from the HR manager.

Without even mentioning a word about her previous offer, she restated the new offer, term by term. She was raising my housing allowance by $6,000/year. The money that would be left over from my housing allowance I would be free to spend in whatever way I wanted. The new offer was only a grand lower than the highest maximum of the salary range I was promised.

I sat there speechless, excited beyond belief. I did it! I kicked some corporate ASS!

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You May Keep Your Picket Fence, Please

Would I settle for something boring and ordinary? I asked myself this question about my whole existence today, in the midst of doubts and worries about the future. Would I be okay with just settling or am I still searching for my purpose?

Back in August, I landed myself a contract job at a world renowned architecture firm that defies the boring and the ordinary. The principal of the firm was a power house of a human being in the 1960's and defined his own style, a style that proclaimed itself to be the antithesis to Le Corbusier's statement "Less is more." He and his wife changed the world of architecture in many ways, shook up the simplicity of Modernism and shocked many with their less-than-orthodox approach to architecture. Loud. Bold. Larger than life. He was and still is a man of a quiet demeanor, never too fond of his spotlight but, nevertheless, he was and still is an undisputed legend.

I am not comparing myself to the likes of his stature. Right now, I find myself elated just to be working in his presence and be able to say "Hi" to him every day as he infallibly, makes his rounds to greet all of his employees every morning. No, I am no legend, I ain't kidding myself.

But I also can't help but compare my lifetime aspirations to what this man, the legend, has been able to achieve. I only hope to take the route less conventional but the route that makes me exuberantly happy, the way his life path made him.

My Ex of some years ago settled for a boring life. And I am not saying it with any malicious undertones and, well, maybe with just a slight hint of elitism that we all inherit after we leave our former lovers to pursue the greener pastures. But he settled for a boring and ordinary life, a boring and ordinary house, a boring and ordinary profession and, if I may, a boring and ordinary fiance.... I swear I could fall asleep from my lack of interest just writing this paragraph.

It's all fine and good in my book. This boring and ordinary deal. After all, sometimes I strive for some good ol' boring balance in my life, but I fear I would get restless in my boring and ordinary house with some boring and ordinary dude. I don't particularly want to conform to someone's else's definition of the American Dream. Why, that would just be a cop out.

I may be still building my version of a brick house with a white picket fence, but, you better believe it, when it's completed it will be anything but boring and ordinary.

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Powerpoint Hell or... Is It All Worth It?

How do we find our worth?

I've been critical of people relying too much on their partners for their source of happiness. Clingy and with no backbone and life of their own as I saw them, I've laughed at those people. After all, how could they lose sight of their own selves and give themselves so wholly to someone else without any regard for their own well being?

I'll never be one of those people, I said to myself from time to time again. I am the epitome of independence, paving my own way through life and not relying on anyone (well, maybe a little bit on my parents but, that's besides the point). I am the modern woman, confident (at least for the most part), happy with myself (most of the times), fiercely tough and oh so well put together at all times.

But today, after over two weeks of routinely spending about, and often more than, 20 hours a day on work to prepare for my thesis presentation and receiving a lackluster review, I realized something. I rely on work for my source of happiness. Work is what controls my life 100% of the time.

Crazy, isn't it? As I stood in front of my thesis critics, surrounded by presentation boards and half-numb from sleep deprivation, I heard them say things about my project, I heard them ask questions. I responded with as much interest and enthusiasm as I could muster up while trying to not fall asleep standing up. I wrapped up the presentation and took down the boards. Ad then itt was over. Just like that.

And as far as the last two weeks go... Can I really ever get them back? Am I any better than those people I laugh at who spend all of their time catering to and adjusting their schedules so they could spend as much of their time as possible with their significant others? Perhaps, they are too dependent and perhaps their co-dependency is not healthy. But am I really better than them?

I've let my work control my life. And a healthy dose of passion is never a bad thing - if I ever end up finding a job in my field in THIS economy, I am certain that I will be happier than about 90% of employed people out there. But I have also sacrificed all of my social life, all of the joy one gets from the first few days of spring, and all of the meaningful conversations I could have had with my good friends from the past and present. And for what? Work? How am I any better if I am just as dependent on work as others are on their lovers?

Maybe it's time to close the lid of my laptop, walk out on my balcony and get a lungful of fresh air for the first time in two weeks. Or maybe, as it is in my case, it is time to simply fall into somber sleep for about fifteen hours.

Starting.... now.

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Dealing or Not Dealing

My apartment looks like someone broke into it, went through all my drawers, threw the contents on the floor, tosses things around some more, rolled around on the floor and left. Socks, papers, pens, random articles of clothing, remote controls, sunglasses, books, candles and more! can all be found somewhere on my living room floor. Of course, that's only the tip of the iceberg, 'cause my bed room is not in any better shape.

Yup, it's getting closer and closer to the finals week and I am finding less and less time in the day for myself, sacrificing every minute and every bit of my sanity all in hopes that the hard work will pay off and maybe, just maybe, I'll be able to snag a rewarding job sometime soon.

Frankly, every time toward the end of each school quarter, I ask myself an all-important question, "How am I going to make it through this week?" All I can do is keep pushing, keep eating take-out food, consume coffee by the buckets and not sleep.

And to add insult to injury, every time I stop to take a break, Mr J pops into my head out of nowhere and all the old emotions come back up to the surface. It is never a more inconvenient time to cut ties with a person you love than during the finals week. The lack of sleep combined with a dose of anxiety mixed with a couple of teaspoons of uncertainty and insecurity are hard to endure as it is. But add all these unresolved emotions that I am trying to put behind me and the mixture becomes almost agonizing.

Perhaps it's not all that bad and being a drama queen is something that I need to do in an effort to deal with it all. Perhaps it is what it is and I need to suck it up and let things run their natural course. Time is the ultimate healer and I am looking forward to the day when I can finally start feeling better. I just know that if Mr J didn't decide to be a complete toolbag, my week would have been just a little easier.

Heart-crushing pain, you are no match for me. Somehow, some way and some day, this too shall pass.

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The Freak Out

Cue in the violins - I am about to feel sorry for myself.

I am terrified of the future and the job situation in this country and the fact that I can't just pick and choose the city I want to live in, once I finish school in June. 50% of architects lost their jobs in 2008 - that means all of them are in the market to find something... anything to earn enough money to get by. So when a person, who's in top 5% of her class, can't get a job anywhere and keeps getting "We are not hiring, sorry" emails from her dream firms, what's a girl to do?

Plan A - Try to get a job at the magazine I worked at over the summer, get a bartending/hosting job at some mid-range/high end restaurant or a sales job that pays commission. Look for a better job in a mean time. Attempt to not freak out.

Plan B - Keep on applying to firms through the summer, as I have enough rent money to last me through August, and at the same time, study for GMATs and apply to a top-tier business school. Abandon architecture. Spend another three years broke and with no life. Attempt to not freak out.

Plan C - Move to some big city, maybe close to Mr J?, go door-to-door terrorizing architecture firms with my resumes. Get a part-time job in a related field... a publishing company, a branding/marketing firm until some company decides to hire me as a full-time employee. Attempt to not freak out.

Plan D - Go to Vegas, wear the shortest, sluttiest dress money can buy, pick up an older gentleman and have him pay for all of my shit. Attempt not to freak out at the thought of becoming a person I despise.

Plan D is, obviously, not in my cards. But the first three plans sound just as terrifying because of all the uncertainty they bring. I mean, the thought of being open to move anywhere - from California to Providence, RI - without even having a clue of whether or not I will even find a job, is insane. But that's what I gotta do.

And then yesterday, Mr J and I talked on the phone about this and that, and that's when I brought up a suggestion of him visiting me during his Spring Break.

"Well, I don't know what I am planning on doing yet. Some people were gonna go to Chicago, but I probably won't go," he says.

"I think you should come and visit me then. Come for a weekend, you'll have more fun with me anyway," I insist.

"I know, but won't you be too busy with school?"

"I can find the time - I can't imagine having too much work that particular week. Besides, if we don't see each other over Spring Break, who knows when or if we will see each other again..."

"Why do you say that?!" he sounds a bit surprised, but I am, in turn, surprised by his reaction.

"Because I don't know where you or I will end up after May.... you know?"

"Yeah..."

He wants to transfer law schools and is looking at places in New York, Dallas, San Diego, Cincinnati... I am looking everywhere there is a job, willing to relocate to states/countries I couldn't picture myself living in previously... Alabama, Georgia, Connecticut... even Canada. Mr J's and my life paths are very hard to keep from diverging but when and if they do... well, I will lose a piece of myself somewhere in the process.

And that's what makes me want to freak out the most.

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Getting Back in the Game... Kind of.

I dragged myself out on a date the other day in an effort to get my heart out of the perpetual pity party it's been having with itself ever since I've decided that it would be wise to move on from Mr. January. I figured the best way to move on is to start liking someone else - and how can I start liking someone else if I am not meeting any new potential prospects.

When I met this particular guy, let's call him Princeton for his alma mater, he didn't exactly push all the right buttons for me. I decided to give it a go, however, when he proposed we go to a dinner at one of the hottest restaurants in town. I've been dying to go there all summer but didn't have anyone to go with so, of course, I jumped at the opportunity with both feet.

I agreed to meet him at the restaurant and, indeed, he was already there, talking to a bartender, when I arrived. I mentally petted myself on the back for dressing it up a bit that night - a flawlessly-fitted charcoal gray pencil skirt, a sexy top and tiny little heels - the crowd at the restaurant was older and definitely classier than your average neighborhood bar and I blended right in.

We grabbed a table and started off with martinis and appetizers. He was intelligent, talkative, funny, incredibly successful. I couldn't really figure him out but I thought I'd wait to finalize my opinion about him. At that moment the octopus appetizer was much more intriguing to me than the man who ordered this appetizer.

"My sister is also going for a degree in architecture. She is starting this fall... You know, I never thought architecture was so artisitc, I thought it would be much more math oriented," he said, upon finding out what I am getting my Master's in.

I glared. There is nothing more that I hate than people making rush assumptions about something they know next to nothing about - his sister didn't even start grad school, how would he know that the grad program is "artistically oriented".

I politely explained that, in graduate school, there is much more emphasis on the technical and practical side of things, much more so than in the undergrad - there is certainly a fair amount of calculations involved in sizing the mechanical equipment, columns and beams, thicknesses of walls, etc etc. Somewhere along the line, our conversation turned into me feeling invalidated for the work I do and I felt that I had to explain and educate.

"I had to interview an architect for the next issue of the magazine I work for - I thought it was an incredible opportunity to get to meet him and ask him all these questions... I would love to interview other people as well, now that I've had a taste for this interviewing process..." I told him.

"Really? Why do you say that?" he asked. I think he meant well - he was genuinely interested in what made me passionate about my work - but the way he stated it blurred the line between him being interested and him coming across as a snotty douche.

Well, so be it, I thought. Maybe I could overlook his mannerisms and concentrate on other, more positive qualities - after all, he has a wide range of interests, he is well traveled, he just got a huge promotion, he lives in one of the most beautiful buildings downtown....

Wait, wait, wait a minute.

I realized, as Princeton had paid for the bill and we were walking towards the front door that the list of good qualities that I compiled for myself sounded more like those a boss would look for in his ideal employee. Not once did I think about his eyes, or the way he smiled, or the way he made me laugh. Not once.

I dreaded a goodnight kiss, but luckily I got away with a hug. As I walked away, a pinch of regret I was feeling due to the lack of chemistry on my part finally seemed justified. I want real love and I am ready to take that step and to really open up... but to the right person. And Princeton is not that person.

When I got home, I finally checked my phone for messages. There was one text from Mr. January, asking me how my night was going. Instantly, butterflies and an increased heart rate was all I felt. I guess, I am still not over him after all. Far from it.

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Good Days Taste So Sweet

1. I got a second chance. Plagiarism is the thing of the past. I am allowed to continue writing for the web site. I even got an advanced payment on my most recent (not plagiarized) article.

2. I got a second part-time job at a high-end boutique, selling women's clothes. I cannot wait for my employee discount to kick in so I can FINALLY buy my summer wardrobe, as well as a new cell phone, new headphones, new Coach bag and a really awesome T-shirt fom Lady Gaga's web site.

3. I was offered an opportunity to put together a biography and a presentation for the next recipient of the 2009 Athena Award. I am elated to get a chance to write about a guy who's considered to be a near-legend in some academic circles.

4. I got a guy's number. Or to be more exact, he got mine. A friend of mine and I were happy-houring at this restaurant downtown and this guy was there with his work buddies. We locked eyes a couple of times. Then I went to the bathroom, and as I was walking out, he was in line to use the men's room. He immediately struck up a conversation with me and, as it turned out, he just moved to Louisvillea couple of weeks ago for a job, just like I did. He asked me for my number and I asked him skeptically, "Why?"

"So I can call you up and we can hang out, of course," he smiled.

It's great to feel like I am worth something - professionally and personally - and be able to back that feeling up with recent accomplishments. I'm flying high and I am grateful for every second of it.

What a good day.

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The Balance

I'm on an intense internship hunt - that is, I am applying to at least 2 firms a day, and I am determined to work for a firm that I would not only be absolutely thrilled to put on my resume but that I would truly enjoy working for. Big names, big cities - I am looking for the cream of the crop and, despite the horrific economy, I am fairly confident that something awesome will roll around my way.

I don't know if I am being overly optimistic but I think that even in the current job market there are some internships available for talented people. I like to think that I am one of those talents.

The cities I am looking for can be summed up by two words - Not Cincinnati. I am looking for every excuse to get the hell out of here as soon as possible so I am not even considering any firms in Ohio right now. Chicago, New York, Washington D.C., Miami, Houston, and even Nashville are all looking much more attractive than this tragic midwestern town.

I am cautiously optimistic that I will get the job within a reasonable driving range (5-6 hours) from Cincinnati solely for one reason and one reason only - the guy I'm seeing. Of course, my New York and Miami options will take me well out of that driving range but I am, by no means, going to let a guy determine by job options right now.

Our situation is interesting because he is just as driven as me and he is applying to law schools all over the country, so it's not like I will be the one leaving him in the dust. He's also preparing for his LSAT's right now so our communication is very much limited to phone calls and instant messages. But.... I kind of like it that way. I am content in this because I am a career girl and he's a career guy. We are completely honest with each other and we have no expectations. I am not worried, not nervous, I am simply happy.

I am happy that I like him, happy that I can still concentrate on my work. This just might be the perfect balance for my career and love life and I'm not gonna lie, I do wish that I could maintain this balance during my internship, wherever that might take me. But then again, everything is so new with this guy that I still need time to figure out if things are perfect just because they're new or if they are perfect because we are on the same wave length.

I am willing to wait and find out and until then, I might as well go look for more jobs.

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Home in the Valley, Home in the City

This quarter is almost over and my mind is already racing in excitement for an impending trip to the Big Bad City That Never Sleeps. I temporarily lost my head when looking at New York hotels online and allowed myself to make a reservation at this ultra posh, painfully hip, all sorts of gorgeous (and not too mention all sorts of expensive) hotel, located just a few seconds away from Times Square.

When I got off the phone with a knowledgeable and enthusiastic hotel employee, the reality began to sink in. That reality being that I am, after all, an unemployed graduate student and though I am pretty well off financially as compared to other poor souls journeying through the perils of grad school, I might not be making a very wise decision by paying $300 a night for a hotel room.

But then my philosophy of "We only live once" made me realize that I won't necessarily be digging a bottomless pit of debt and that I should allow myself to splurge just a little bit as a reward for an insanely productive, insanely work-filled quarter. I'll think of this as my Christmas present to myself.

When I made the reservation, the woman on the other line asked me how many people would be staying in the room, and my response was, "Just one." It made me just a tiny bit regretful that I didn't really have anyone even closely resembling a "significant other" to share the time in New York with. The city is, after all,filled with beauty and lights and joy during Christmas time, and this trip could really be very romantic if I had a sexy dude to take on this trip with me.

It also made me realize how "not into dating" I've become lately. The last date I had was about three weeks ago with another lackluster prospect and though he didn't do or didn't say anything particularly terrible, I found myself wondering just what I was doing accepting the date with him in the first place. It also didn't help that when I offered to split the check for dinner with him, he readily agreed. Don't take me for a mooch, but I like to be wined and dined on a first date.

School has been so much more interesting to me lately. My mind's been filled with all these great ideas and just by immersing myself wholeheartedly in what I am doing for my projects made me mature intellectually at an unprecedented rate.

I've accepted the fact that Ohio men are simply not my cup of tea. I don't feel in a rush to get married or to even seriously date any time soon, unless someone truly incredible comes along. I cannot settle for someone who is kind-of okay, because, really, if the guy is not pushing all the right buttons I have other things to look forward to. Things that do not involve dating. Or awkward dinner conversations. Or excuses to avoid a goodnight kiss. There are things not related to dating that I feel perfectly content in doing.

For now I look forward to my date with New York, the city that has a soft spot in my heart. And though there will be no men to share my journey and experiences with, I will feel no less thrilled to go on this trip. Who knows, maybe I'll even get to flirt with one of the cute Wall Street types somewhere along the way :)

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Tag!

I got tagged by She Is Anyway

Here are the Rules:
1. Link to the person that tagged you
2. Post the rules on your blog
3. Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself
4. Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs
5. Let each random person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website.
6. Let your tagger know when your entry is up

I am basically only doing step 3 because I am not sure how many people actually read my blog and it might be less than 6, for all that I know. Ha!

So, 6 random things...

1. I got my tongue pierced the day I turned 18 because I was just itching to declare my "independence" from my parents, and I was sheltered enough to not know the sexual connotations that came with a pierced tongue. What can I say... I was a pretty naive 18-year old! I still have that piercing and, to this day, my tongue is still the only part of my body that has a jewelry piece puncturing it.

2. I've decided that I'm going to really try and make an effort and... go to Las Vegas once a year from now on. They say that you have to experience Vegas at least once in your lifetime. For me, once is not enough. Twice wasn't enough either. I am willing to keep returning until I go broke or get old. Old people partying in Vegas never look cool or hip. Never.

3. When I was a freshman in college, I had developed a crush on a guy in my evening calculus class. I found his email online and sent him an message declaring my undying love for him. (Well, I just said that I am a girl from his calc class and I thought he was really hot) The dude replied with an email, saying that he was really flattered that I liked him but he was not the person that I thought he was because he was not taking any night classes. However, the next day I saw him in calculus... and he gave me one of those subtle, knowing looks. Ouch. I got rejected. How mortifying.

4. I have a cat (well, now he lives with my parents but I still consider him mine) and I named him Mr. Poop. When he was a tinsy little kitten, he had no interest in going to poop in a litter box, so he would just do his business wherever he please. What was even funnier is that he would, somehow, manage to get the poop all over his paws in the process, so I would always find brown pawprints in various corners of my parents' house. Thusly, I came up with his very appropriate name.

5.When I was 16, my then twenty year old boyfriend decided that it would be a great idea to get me drunk on our second date so he bought us two 40oz bottles of malt liquor and we sat around watching TV and drinking at his parents house. The sadness of it all is that I thought it was the most romantic thing ever. I hope to believe I am not that cheap of a date any more.

6. I buy Dwell magazine instead of Cosmopolitans and Vogues at the airports so I can look like a refined intellectual. Though I am absolutely obsessed with all things architecture, sometimes I do feel the need to leisurely read one of the lighter magazines. Being an architecture grad student, you can't help but feel a little overloaded by the architectual world once in a while. However, at an airport, I am not a grad student, I am a young, busy, incredibly successful architect, dressed to the teeth in latest fashion, sipping on a steaming vanilla latte from Starbucks, and reading Dwell, because I simply have to stay on top of the latest trends in building design.

Yay, this was fun!

Edit: and I'm tagging Narcissiste to do this, per her request :)

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Tomorrow

For the past five weeks I had barely had a chance to step outside of my house. To relay how swamped I was with work, I will just say that at more than one instance I contemplated skipping a meal so that I could have more time to spend on my projects. And several times, I was so engrossed in my work, that I did skip a meal or two, without intending to do so.

But all that's fun must come to an end, right?

...

All I gotta say is that I feel lucky to still be somewhat alive and breathing. I have never worked this hard in my entire life and, hopefully, my final projects really showcase the amount of dedication I poured into architecture.

There was no social life for a while. The only human interaction was with my fellow-sufferers in architecture studio who I've spent many sleepless nights with, my worried mother who would call me every other day to make sure I was getting enough sleep, and the New Guy who, no matter how bland he may be, apparently cares enough to inquire about my well being.

Would I do this all over again, knowing now how hard this was for me? Probably not. But I'm glad I didn't know it was going to be like this, because going through this experience made me tougher, for better or for worse. I pushed my limits, and I've reached the finish line.

And now... Now I think I am fairly ready for my last exam tomorrow morning and after that I will be ready to reemerge into the world. Perhaps, a trip to the mall will be my end-of-quarter celebration, or maybe a midday nap.

I am coming back to life, maybe even considering dating again. I am looking forward to going on a week-long vacation to the wonderful city of Philadelphia to visit the fam and my crazy and wonderful friends. I feel life being pumped into my still lifeless arms, and heart and brain.

Tomorrow I am picking back up on my work-out regimen. Tomorrow, I am coming back with a vengeance. Tomorrow is a new, beautiful day. All in all, I am honored that I will get to live to see tomorrow.

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Oh my goodness, I've been absolutely swamped with work! Who knew that grad school was actually going to be so challenging and time-consuming? But I'm surviving despite it all, and even finding an occassional minute or two to go out around midnight on Friday nights with some good friends who are beginning to become my family in Cincinnati, since we spend so much time with each other in and out of studio.

A few people actually dropped out of the architecture program this quarter during the midreview time. Why? Because the work load can be too much to bear sometimes. As evident by my recent lack of posting, I don't even have time to write a decent blog entry, or for that matter, time to breathe.

The boy situation? Well, it's been pretty much nonexistent, ever since the indirect blow of rejection I received from the Artist a little over a month ago. Though I still think he's the hottest thing since sliced bread, I am willing to let him go and now that school work might be slowing down for a quick second, I am willing to explore my other options as far as dating is concerned.

I actually have a date this Friday and I am keeping my fingers crossed, hoping it all goes well. But really, I am not going to put all my eggs in a basket. Right now, all I am hoping to get out of it is a nice dinner, some pleasant conversation, and if sparks fly - so be it. If they don't, I have other things to worry about in other aspects of my life.

Honestly, I've been able to put my life on hold without a problem or a single regret. Sure, dating is fun, but I am looking to advance in my career. While school has been tough, grueling, challenging and exhausting, it has also been incredibly rewarding. Knowing that this is what I want to do for the rest of my life helps me stay on my path.

Boys will always come along the way. I am not worried one bit.

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Vegas, Baby!

Two tablets of Tylenol PM and some cranberry juice and I am almost back to normal. Almost, I say, because I am still exhausted after a 12 hour work day (thank GOD for overtime...) and not looking forward to another two days of overtime madness. I am damn lucky I love this job or else I would be tearing my hair hair out in frustration right about now.

Next week, I am flying to Vegas to do some survey work with a couple of my coworkers. The hours, they say, will be grueling and if anyone had ever done site surveying they might pinpoint out that you barely get to sit down at any time during an entire day. You're always on your feet, bending, reaching with a tape measurer, the way they probably did it one hundred years ago. Survey work has not seen many significant advancements in technology. It still requires physical labor.

Doesn't mean that I won't enjoy what they city has to offer though. Since I am staying right at a casino hotel, courtesy of my company, I will probably sneak down for at least thirty minutes every night to wander around the glitzy, over-the-top glamor of the City of Sin. I will deposit a few quarters into a slot machine that will look special to me, and cross my fingers, hoping to get lucky and win a jackpot. I will close my eyes for just a moment and imagine what it would be like to win fifty million dollars. What I would do. Who I would want to meet, because it is always easier to get an appointment or a date with anyone if you're got a few thousand dollar bills in your wallet.

I will probably lose 10 dollars at the said slot machine and walk away, slightly frustrated and disillusioned, but it won't take me too long to escape my frustrations, it won't take me long at all til I see another attraction, or a cute guy, or a high roller winning the money he doesn't particularly need at all.

I have never been to Vegas, and what happens there stays there, they say. But I won't even have much time to try to do anything stupid or irresponsible. Instead, I'll be up early every morning, ready to work, ready to take in the new sights and sounds.

"Have you ever been to Vegas? It's a different world out there," my co-worker said to me mysteriously today.

I'm not sure what he meant but whatever it is, it WILL be a whole different world to me. I have never been that far out in the West, only know what I've seen in movies.

I liked what I saw. Even now, sitting here dead tired and feeling the influence of Tylenol PM pulling me into a drowsy, somber state, I simply cannot conceal my utter excitement...

Did I mention that this is where I am staying?



I AM GOING TO VEGAS!!

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What Goes Around...

So many things happened in a matter of just over a week. But first thing's always first: I got my dream job!

It is for the duration of the winter and summer quarters and I will be working from Cincinnati heping with the design of the largest resort in Las Vegas. The pay isn't much... in fact, I negotiated for my hourly salary to be raised by a dollar and it still isn't much. But this job is an amazing opportunity for me to get my foot in the door of the entertainment business. I ultimately want to design upscale hotels, casinos and nightclubs all over the world.

This job offer also gave me an enormous morale boost. My ego's been stroked and I feel of tremendous value to the world. One of the top architectural firms in the country hired me, and it will only get better from here. Time to do the happy dance!

Moving onto the more private, yet no less exciting, matters of my love life: Just last week after writing one of my blog posts about the flaky guy I was seeing, I realized that I needed to be treated way better than I was. I called Flaky out on the fact that he never calls when he says he would, and I don't have the time, nor the energy to play games. He sounded stunned and taken aback by my direct and blunt confrontation, and he mumbled something about being busy and not having any money. You know, excuses, and all the stuff I just did not want to hear.

Today Flaky called me after six days of not contacting me to "catch up". Pshhht, catch up my ass. He told me he paid off over 1000 dollars of his debt this week and that he's got some lucrative business presentations coming up next week. I didn't care. I wasn't impressed.

Little does Flaky know that I've already moved on and am now seeing a new guy. I will not get into details for this is all so very new, but I will say that he is coming to Cincinnati for a three day weekend, starting this Friday, and if everything goes well, I will post about him in more detail next week.

I feel slightly guilty for possibly leading Flaky on, in the fact that I haven't told him about the new guy I am seeing, and I also told him to give me a call later if he wants. But, he brought it upon himself. He's had me hanging on a string for a few days too long. Now it's his turn.

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Mission [IM]Possible

Today is a very important day. Today is the day I go for my interview at The Firm of My Dreams that specializes in hospitality architecture (casinos, hotels and restaurants) - just the industry I want to work in. Today, I will wear my sharpest-looking outfit and grab my portfolio, along with my resume and a few construction documents and head over to the Firm's office downtown, hoping that I will absolutely dazzle everyone with my impressive knowledge of everything architecture.

This job is the job that could open up doors, windows and gateways for me in terms of working in designing casinos. I am surprisingly calm and ready for battle. Yesterday I practiced what I would say at my interview for an hour. I will punch myself in the face if I mess the interview now.

To slightly complicate things, there are five other people going for the same job, including the Asshole - a douchey know-it-all senior in the undergrad program. My Nemesis, if you will. He's condescending and he often acts like he knows more than, gasp, us - the grad students. This man must be stopped and I am on a mission to put him back into his place.

Let's just hope that I don't fall flat on my face.

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Sometimes When I'm Bored...

...I write poetry. Mostly it's because I'm overwhelmed with emotions and I have no one around me to confide. This time I was listening to Pandora radio and You Got Me by The Roots came on. This song is one of the most meaningful to me, not only because it talks about a potentially lost love opportunity and Philadelphia - two things I know a lot about, two things that often came hand-in-hand, but also because it's just such a damn good song. So after I listened to the song, I was inspired to write the following:

An Architect's Melancholies


Somebody told me that this planet was small
But..
we used to live in the same city, practically next door
And never met before until I'm in a different state, apart
and when I left, I left you pieces of my heart

My hands and heart are cold, and you I try to quit
these thoughts of you still linger, though I can't admit
to anyone how much I need you, that I even could
and try to put you first before a block of wood

Or metal beam, mahogany, or sunlight's gleam
or Gesso, Autocad and travertine
but let me down to Earth and listen
This planet might seem tiny from a distance

But as I look up to the stars that twinkle
you're gone, light years away, you're just a wrinkle
in folds of memory that fade with time
but oh my god, how do I wish that I could make you mine

my thoughts are my best time machine
and back to Philly I transport within
I find your place, you smile as you see me at the door.
All else? Irrelevant. I couldn't ask for more.

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An End of an Era

A lot of lasts today. Last full day of work. Last lunch with co-workers. They even bought me a strawberry cake and a gift (though I still don't know what it is - it's supposed to arrive at the firm tomorrow), and made me a card. Not a lot of people can say that they look forward to waking up every morning and going to work, but I am not one of those people. Every single day, even if I was hung over, still exhausted from a night of partying, I'd wake up and literally jump out of my bed in an anticipation of work.

The pay did not exactly allow me to roll around in hundred dollar bills, but there was always plenty of overtime and I did not mind staying late. In fact, every time I was needed to stay and work at night, I was happy to do it. You know why? Because I actually enjoyed my job.

Of course, I have my reasons for continuing my education and going to graduate school. I want to both grow professionally, and be able to take on more challenging tasks. I will be able to move onto managerial positions more quickly. And yes, with a Master's degree I will be able to afford a more luxurious style of living.

However, as sappy and cliche as it sounds, the lessons that I have learned at my very first architectural firm that took a chance on me - a college graduate with practically no related experience, will live on with me forever. Before interviewing with the firm I ended up working for for 1.5 years, I had a lot of other job interviews at other places, but I truly believe that this firm was the best choice for me.

In my card, one of my co-workers wrote to me (the note was written upside down): "We hope to see your work one day in Architectural Record, perhaps even on the cover. Life sometimes seems to turn everything upside down, so I send you this note as an early effort to get you used to the effect. I am sure you will succeed no matter what."

God, it's always so hard to leave good things behind.

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Clearly, I Chose a Wrong Career Path

A few weeks ago, a couple of my friends and I were out at a lounge discussing the meaning of life, shoes and all that important stuff. DJ, Best Friend and I noticed an obviously gay man checking us out from a distance. He was leaning against the bar and blatantly starring at us, occasionally exchanging candid whispers with his friend.

When I went up to the bar to get a drink, the gay dude tapped me on my shoulder,

“Excuse me, can I ask you a question?”

I glared at him, giving him the it-better-be-good-or-I’m-leaving look.

“So this might sound weird, but can I ask you what you do for a living?” he implored.

“Aaaaand why do you want to know?” I asked with suspicion.

“Well, you see, I have this talent for guessing people’s professions just by judging them on their looks, and my friend and I wanted to know if I was right about you and your friends.”

Oh. This was going to be pure gold - I could already feel that. I needed to hear what the guy had to say.

“Okay, so what do you think we all do?”

“Well,” he began, pointing his finger in a direction of DJ, “He probably works as a graphic designer.”

I was impressed. He actually got that one right.

“Okay, okay…” I was interested in what he had to say about Best Friend, “Go on.”

“She is a secretary,” he said, referring to Best Friend who was too busy taking shots to notice that our conversation was revolving around her now.

Very close. She’s an administrative assistant. Just another technical term for secretary.

“What about me?” I was very curious now.

He eyed me up and down, as if to double check his preconceived notions and said, with much certainty in his voice, “You look like you work at Abercrombie&Fitch.”

…

“I am an architect, sweetheart,” I rolled my eyes and grabbed my drink, getting ready to get back to my friends.

“No way. Really?”

“Yeah… looks like your talent is not a talent after all,” I smirked, masking my disappointment.

I mean, don’t get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with working at Abercrombie&Fitch. Hollister, PacSun or any other surf-themed shops, but you can’t deny that there are certain stereotypes of people who work in those stores. For guys, it’s blonde-haired, blue-eyed Adonises who are more concerned with spending time at the beach or working on their already chiseled abs at the gym. For girls, it’s (again) blonde-haired airheads with seashell necklaces, dark tans and perfectly manicured nails. Not exactly, an image of an intellectual elite.

But hey, it goes to show that it’s never a good idea to judge a book by its cover. For all that I know, those faithful surf shop employees could very well turn out to be the future leaders of our country. Unlikely, I know, but not impossible.

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A Glimpse into My Future

Much like in Office Space, I have about seven immediate supervisors. Much like in the movie, sometimes I have to report and answer the same question up to seven times. Unlike the movie though, my job is actually fun and I like what I do, so I can tolerate the little quirks of my place of employment. Sometimes though, I can’t help but question the sanity and/or maturity levels of some of my lovely co-workers/supervisors who, in some cases, are forty years older than me.

Like the other day, one of my particularly zany bosses asked me to send an email to a partner in our Texas office. Now, this man has his own email account and is perfectly capable of sending his own emails. Nevertheless, he handed me a picture of a top of a roof of a historic building covered with pieces of chewing gum that landed on this said roof when people would spit them out of windows. I had to write the following caption:

“My chewing gum shot wasn't "gross" enough. Can you do any better?”

That will SO be me when I’m sixty.

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