Handy handy handy man

Things you quickly clean up before the handyman arrives:

Half chewed tampon your dog ate
Empty wine bottles
your red stained lips
wine glass on the table

your collection of bras (for the big chested gal!)

Things you don't bother with
dog pee pads
bottle of pills for dog
cat toy (for dog)
Paper towels (for cleaning up after dog)
making your bed
Putting away your groceries from the night before

DISPATCHES FROM A SAFE HOUSE

Sunday night.

I am safely enclosed on the top floor of a typical Chicago two-flat.

My friends, life-long White Sox backers,, welcome me, quickly leading me up the stairs, away from prying eyes.  They are Cleveland fans because they love me, and because they love a gritty underdog with faithful fans.

They love Chicago, but hate the Cubs. I feel at home here more than I ever do drinking beer in a sea of frat boys and tube tops, heels and blowouts in the bleachers of Wrigley.

I biked from my home in Andersonville, avoiding Clark street and the Wrigley mess, and sneaking down Ravenswood to a home that has welcomed this Northern Ohio life-long Cleveland fan in the most unfriendly of territories.

We are spending Game 5, Sunday, with the windows closed, within spitting distance of Wrigley field, as the pitchers grind it out, run by run.

Saturday night was victorious, and we were graceful in our words "That was a GREAT baseball game! For both teams" we declared, as we swigged our beers, munched on our cheese and meat, and high-fived each other.

The littlest Sox fan converted the Cubs song to an Ohio song, "Go Tribe Go, Go tribe Go, hey Ohio what do you know, Cleveland's going to win today".  I want to gift her with diamonds, hug her to death and thank god that someone else on the northside is on my side.

There are more of us, though we are leery to show ourselves.  At a friend's brunch on Saturday, I showed up in my "Believeland" t-shirt, and was happy to find the 2 other native Clevelanders inside.

We immediately swapped tales of home, watching the games growing up, who's our favorite player and the mutual agreement that Chief Wahoo is pretty awful to bear.  I breathed a sigh of relief in to my coffee as I felt myself able to express myself freely with my people.  My, dare i say it, Northern Ohio tribe?

The particulars of Ohio geography don't really matter to anyone until they travel through, or there's a federal election.  But, simply put, of the "C" cities of Ohio, Cleveland is to the North, the grittiest, the most like the South Side of Chicago, Cincinnati in the South, it truly the most like the South, with a heritage torn between the gentility and kindness of the south, and the racism and narrow-mindedness of some of the more traditional areas of our country (ie, Klan marched on their main square in recent memory, this is the city that banned Mapplethorpe) and then Columbus, up-and-comer with banking, college students and a lot of shopping malls along with a burgeoning downtown scene.

Within our fair state, just like the fair city of Chicago, there are clearly drawn north/south rivalries (Browns v Bengals, Cleveland v Cincinnati), but we all come together for OSU football.

Tonight, however, the taunts start to fly.  Chief among them is my pal, who yells things like "You don't even care about baseball", or "Shit shit shit!" when the Tribe fumbles a catch.  We each ask each other who our favorite pro athlete is and when I respond "Kyrie Irving" the boys of the crew cheer.

I feel at home, able to cheer for my tribe, in a way I haven't felt in the last week.

Last Wednesday, when I watched the game at Fat Cat, a northside pub I frequent, among the blue and red, my Cleveland shirt tucked under my jacket, and my cheers stifled under the table as Cleveland brought

On Friday, I was on the El and taking a picture of the Addison stop, and overheard 2 ladies discussing the Indians "I just hope they stop it with all this Cleveland nonsense.  You are in Chicago now!".

On Saturday, I wear my "Believeland" shirt on a bike ride, and people stop and stare on the bike path, wearing their Cubby red and blue.

For me, it came to a fever pitch, Saturday afternoon, I sat outside at Moody's, one of the best watering holes on the northside, and a dude glares at my shirt, and points it out to his friend. I zip up my coat.

After that, I knew I needed a safehouse.  I did not want to taunt these fans anymore, nor did I want to hide my feelings of joy.  That's when I decided to find a place to hideout.

After the Indians lost on Sunday, the little Sox fan turned to me and said "Becky, what would you do if the Sox played the Indians?"  We tried to explain to her that would be impossible, but she wanted an answer.  I paused, and thought about how welcoming Chicago has been, even on days when Chicago Cubs fans believe they are the only ones who had grandfathers who loved their team, or that they have the exclusive right to win because of their long drought, and ignore the fact that the Sox won the Series a few years ago, and the Bears have won the Super Bowl, and the Hawks are KILLING it in hockey, and the Bulls were unstoppable and produced a player the likes of which we haven't seen until, well, Kyrie's pal, LeBron James.  I paused, and said "I'd have to cheer for both, and cheer for baseball."

I'm not quite there with this series, as I cuss out the umps, high-five for sluggers like Santana and Napoli, but I am glad we modified the song to keep a little bit of the Chicago spirit alive.

Go Tribe Go!

Cuba

WHOA!!!

So, long-time blog followers (hi Dori!) will note my absence.  It's funny how much time flew by in September and October!!!  I just got back from a long weekend in NYC with my best gal pals Amy and Kristin (oh my god was that fun!) and the week before I was in Cuba.  On a cruise!

Talk about gig work---those Cubans gig it up like no one else.  Art is made from anything, people go to work in a bus driven by a horse, and there are a million old cars from the 50s, ready to drive you anywhere.

I have a lot more thoughts/reflections on Cuba, but, in short--GO NOW!  GO LATER!  GO GO GO!

It's a wonderful place.

I also rode 41 miles in the Apple Cider Century Ride! I want to ride more!

And, I have some Mind Gym work coming up and I am PUMPED for that, too!

I found out that another maternity gig I hoped to get in March isn't going to be filled.

I am also contemplating a temp move to LA for the winter--Pickle and I need to take in the western air to cure us of shitty winters.

So, my other plans will happen sooner.  I may need to do a bit more of the Lyft/Uber and such to fill the coffers.

This post is kind of rambly.

Off I go to work work work!

WFH!

I started working downtown again---just 21 hours, of which, 2 days are in the office, and the other hours float as needed.  It's an amazing gig, and I am having the best time at it.  Honestly, I feel cheerful, energetic and have jumped right back in to the bitching at work about some dumb reports.

Anyway, it's at Cooking Light, Real Simple, Health and associated digital properties.  And, like I do anytime I work, I morph slightly in to the brand I am working for.

Hence, my freezer is FILLED with make-ahead meals, where I take the same basic ingredients (canned tomatoes, turkey, a minor carb (preferably a Quinoa or something that is not, god forbid, white rice) and a fresh veggie.  And Voila!  Turkey Chili!  Turkey-stuffed Peppers!  De-constructed cabbage rolls with turkey and Quinoa!

I wanted to update my wardrobe, but couldn't afford the fashion in Real Simple, so instead, hit the alley sale in Andersonville and found a garage filled with fashion from a gal about my size, with similar taste in style, but not in color.  She tends toward orange/brown/grey where I am much more pink/purple/blue.  We intersected at navy and black and white.

While I was there another lady shopper was wearing a "surf ohio" shirt which of course made me laugh. If I had any $, I'd go buy one now on Amazon.  Anyway, I asked where she was from---turns out, AVON!  Oh my god--that's where my aunt and uncle live, as well as my brother and family.  It abuts Elyria!  It's one of the "A" towns the white people move to when they get freaked out by Elyria and Lorain because those cities are too "urban".  Plus, Avon has a super nice shopping center with an Old Navy and a Kohl's.

Of course, one of her kids had my brother Paul as a teacher, and LOVES Paul Gilbert.  She moved to Chicago "mid-life crisis/left the burbs" and lives near me!  We are going to be friends!

And I know thought of what I am doing with my life:  Avoiding a mid-life crisis.

Anyway, she works from home, as do a few other pals, so maybe we will start a WFH club! (work from home!)

I am minorly obsessed with the Kennedys

I am a sales rep in the world of media.  

There are a million of me.   

We go out in to the world, bustling down Michigan Avenue in our clicky heels, FUN work clothes and see ad agencies and show them our magazine's new font, or our amazing new online content, or our amazing mobile technology, or our amazing new video technology, or our best-in-class social platform, or our first-to-market amazing data, or our blah blah blergh blergh acronym blah blah.  

And then we let the client talk.

Many of me drive fancy cars, regularly get blow outs and put big ribbon bows in their daughter’s hair, so they look like Caroline Kennedy, wintering in Palm Beach.

Some of the me's dress the girl children in Lilly Pulitzer and the boy children in polo shirts like little tiny pro-golfers.  And then they monogram those outfits so no one gets confused on who is who.

Some of us have furs.  

Some of us are not like the others.  We belly laugh, and eat food with meat for lunch. We wear clothes from the Gap, or Target.

All of us are here for the same reason---to make $, to have some flexibility, because we can present, and keep excel charts nice and tidy.  

And,  as a plus, it's actually a really interesting industry.  

So, I wake up late, shower and get dressed, put on my business lady costume, pack up my TJ Maxx bag with magazines, my laptop/ipad/iphone and take a walk to a business lady meeting!  

I see people I know on the street, say hi, grab a coffee and it's like I'm god-damn Mary Tyler Moore!  

Once, I was out for a business lady lunch with 5 really fun gals.   These are my colleagues, not my clients.

Two of them were skinny minnys—but they kept talking about how fat they felt, how fat they were, how they had gone from a size 4 to a size 6 fat fat FAT!

The other 3 of us were what I would describe as “normal”---and I was just staring in disbelief.  You know how we aren’t supposed to judge, blah blah blah?  I judge.  I do. 

I felt like a pig invited to a light lunch at their favorite meadow with a bunch of tiny little lady deer.  They feasted on locally sourced grass and had really nice fur while I rooted around for food scraps and the deer discussed which meadow is best to raise their yearlings in.

"Oh, I am looking at Western Meadows!,

"But the schools aren't as good as Hooves dale.  We are staying in the urban meadow, but sending our fawns to Roman Deer Parish school".

I can't tell what to talk about---the cta?  Shopping?  TV shows?  Is it because I'm single?  No kids?  Am I jealous?  

No, not exactly.  But I don't fit in.  I know about deers, and deer development and enjoy hearing about the latest fawn antics---but our lives are just so different.

I wear my hair naturally curly and some of them blow dry their hair every morning.  I think they shop a lot but then complain about not being able to afford to stay-at-home with their kids.  

I like to shock them every once in a while when they talk about their bikini waxes before giving birth and I tell them "Mine is like the 70s down there".

I am not like the others.   So I quit.

(ps the hair bows are really cute.  But sometimes, they just seem really really big.  And I really worry when they put them on newborns that the garters will stop the baby's skull development. But it's important that we know this baby is a girl.)

Hipster Foosball tables can't make up for a shitty job

I gave a talk at a cool event called "Ignite".  It was all about the gig economy, and how I'm trying to swing it for myself.  You create a digital slide show and it auto advances as you present.  My first slide was of a bunch of tech workers hunched over their computers with a foosball table in the foreground, and read "A hipster foosball table can't make up for a shitty job".  That got applause from the attendees, a hundred or so tech/writers/coders/engineers, etc.

It's an awesome thing, and the next one with a new lineup of speakers is on September 27

http://www.ignitechi.org/

I keep thinking lately about what my goals are in life---and how lucky and privileged I am to be able to take this break from the real world and dive in to gigging.

(I also think about how hard I've worked to get here, too, don't worry that I've suddenly turned Yoga/Actressy modest!)

Anyway, it's Monday and it's an interesting week.  I started teaching at Second City and tonight is week 2.  The general assignment for writing level 1 is WRITE more, and write some scene starters.  I am trying to re-learn that lesson myself.

I won't start working my maternity leave gig until next week, unless the lovely lady I am covering goes in to labor.

Which means, I've had 2 months of this gigging life.

In that time, I've ubered and lyted, taught improv, led a creativity/brainstorming session, taught writing, had my first Mind Gym coaching gig, performed my first piece at Paper Machete, wrapped up an improv show, run 2 tris, babysat, worked for a Gluten Free Bar company doing nutrition database work, had one Bumble date, booked new health insurance, nagged my old job for my commission, eaten my way through my refrigerator and cupboard, blown off ww, and spent a lot of time with my dog, family and friends.  I also have slept in a lot, improved my mind NONE and listened to the entire catalog of an amazing podcast "Again with this, 90210."  It's great to bike to!

http://previously.tv/beverly-hills-90210/awt-90210-s04e30/

It's been a pretty great 2 months, truth told.

And this is my first completely free week, aside from teaching tonight.  It's also my birthday on Thursday, so I am rolling with the chilling.

We wish to welcome you to Tech-kins land! (NOT!)

7.7.16
(Flashback to July!)

Yesterday was an exciting day—I went down to 1871 in Chicago’s Merchandise Mart.  1871 is “The largest tech startup” as the membership dude/tour guide mumbled. I almost immediately thought what I could bring---writing, sass, energy and pep to conversations if I was the tour guide.  I was there with my awesome PT, who, like me, was curious about what happened in 1871.

I LOVE the Merchandise Mart---and find each floor endlessly fascinating.  There are a million elevator banks, and each of them are labelled to go to only certain floors.  On the 2 main floors, there’s a killer food court, a ton of showrooms so you can buy a really expensive window shade, or look at mannequins made out of tiles, or get your nails done.  All the trim is beautiful---every elevator bank, every information desk---and best of all, there’s a Dunkin’ Donuts, as well as it’s own El stop.  Sometimes I "run" the stairs--there must be 14 or more banks of stairs and wander in the random showrooms on the 7th floor and see the very latest in outdoor furnitures displayed.  All the displays act like you live on the north shore, and have an old house, so that lines up with the preppy clientele I see walking around in their cardigans and $800 suede driving shoes and monogrammed LV bags.  I hate a monogram but I love this building!

So, on the side, I dream of being an entrepreneur—of working with the brightest minds of our day, and making some sweet cash, maybe having some impact and finding a boyfriend.

Anyway, aside from mumbly mouth tour guide, there was a pair of tech-bros looking for space, and a few other randoms there, too. 

1871 is laid out with a ton of “open” space that feels like a giant, indie coffee shop---concrete floors, signs and posters promoting upcoming 1871 events, tables and chairs populated with funky mini-entrepreneurs wearing Beats by Dre and pecking away at their Mac Power Books.  Only their eyes pop up as we pass, and then they fly back down to their screens.  The hallways here are all curves---I feel like Dorothy walking through munchkinland and asking “um, where the fuck do I go?” and these munchkins are like “figure it out, bitch, I have some coding to do” as we move through the space.    All of these tech-kins pay a monthly membership fee, allowing them 24-hour access to the space, wi-fi, and maybe some free coffee (unclear on that point?).  And, of course, community.  But since everyone had their headphones on, maybe not so much?  I think there are some happy hours and stuff.

As we move on, there are a few stadium-seating larger spaces, and one big auditorium/event space where Mumbly pauses, turns to the tour group and says “Here’s where we host Town Halls and tech-blah-blah-disrupts-centrifuge and have the biggest names in tech in one-on-one conversations. In the last month we’ve had Bill Bloopy-bloo, Kyle Not-Chandler, Eddie new new, and even big name another dude”.  The others in the group nod along like “oh sure, those dudes” and I raise my eyebrows like I am impressed.

We then weave back through the tech-kins, and find some back areas where the “Cohorts” are.  Mumbly informs us “cohorts are a big deal, we recently had over mumble hundred apply for this cohort, and only mummer smaller number got in”  A cohort means you get some extra, focused attention, and that you potential business has passed a few markers of consideration for funding.  Cool. 

Down the hallway are a few break-out areas that look like cubbies from King Library at Miami, where you can have calls.

There are also spots for mentors to have office hours and that’s neat.

Finally, we get to see the classrooms, and “university row” where local Chicago colleges have offices so they can chat with potential entrepreneurs and make connections and stuff.

We left with a sense of “cool, but where do I start” and I haven’t been back since then. 

In my brain, I could go there and take coding classes for fun (I always liked Algebra!), or sign-up for the Start-up institute, which seems like a pretty dramatic commitment, or buy “membership” for something like $300 or more a month, which seems weird to do when I don’t know what I want to do. 

So, we just left.

I think about the kind of work that happens here, and make a mental note to get back here in August,  attend some pitch sessions, etc, after my summer of fun.

oh PICKLE!

My Dog
I have had my dog, Pickle, for 4 years.  I think.  I am pretty sure.  Right?  Anyway, Thursday is her "Pickle-versary".  4 years ago I picked up a lovely, fussy, not-yet-silly Beagle who placed her little tiny chin in my hand, and just about killed me.

To all the parents and other pet-owners and non-pet owners:  I don't DARE compare owning a dog to a human.  I get it. I can leave Pickle for hours, unattended, while she sleeps.  She poops outside in a bag. She doesn't require much in terms of values/teaching morals/the value of helping humanity.

But, she kills me.  This little beagle, with her little soft ears and her fucked-up scarred face.

It's not that she's a sub for a family, or a kid or what-not--but she's just perfect for me.

I love watching her sleep and have puppy dreams, I love watching her ignore me as she hunts some random beagle scent trail, yells at me when I come home too late, and scratches her right ear like she has mites when she's stressed, and I love how she snores like a god-damn hobbit.

I hate when she pees on my ikea carpets, and begs for food if I sit on the couch, or humps me when she wants attention (she loves my right forearm!).

Some day, she'll die and I'll be super-sad.  But, for now, Pickle Juice Eldridge, if it's 3 or 4 years or who knows---be the good beagle you are.

And, just in case you want to adopt a dog:  for sure, check out:

http://www.gotbeagles.org/

These dogs LOVE all humans, all kids, all other pets. I always say---Pickle is too passive for her own good.

Um, what do you do?

I've had a lot of jobs this year.  I hope LinkedIn looky-lous don't think I'm a flake, but I think my job picker was off.

I had a job last year for 5 months--and it was pretty good in a lot of ways, and awful in some other ways.

I needed a ton of education on the product, as I was moving from "Traditional" media to "Digital" media.  Big learning curve.

And, there was some, um, let's say MINOR drama in the Chicago office.  It involved a literal man-hunt for one of the reps who others in the office thought was lying.  So, they decided to try to catch him in his lie and wanted the rest of the office to play along.  When I wouldn't, things went south.

Last summer I was in meeting with VIP clients in Cincinnati.  I secured the meeting, had researched the client, knew their agency partners very well, as well as their brand plans.  But, some boss somewhere decided that a big whig would fly in and present.  So, he came in, having never been to Cincy nor worked on this account (World's largest advertiser), and he completely ignored my direction on what to speak about, etc and just PRESENTED!!!  Here's the feedback we got after his first presentation:  "Um, what exactly do you do?"  My thoughts exactly.

After our second meeting, the client said:  "Listen Becky, you're the one who actually works on this stuff.  You know what to do--make your materials more succinct, precise and specific to our work."  I looked at that lady with eyes that must have screamed GET ME OUT OF HERE!  HELP!  

Our third meeting was margaritas where the big guy in "Agency/Brand relations" congratulated himself on a job well done, and asked why I was quitting.

UNSUBSCRIBE

7.5.16 (Sometimes I post out of order guys!)

OK, if this were a NORMAL day and NORMAL week—I’d be hopping on the el (or in the PriPri, let’s be honest as I drove to work a LOT) and heading downtown.

Instead, I’m in DFW, listening to CNN  (Trump wrote a Tweet Trump, anti-semitism TWEET, etc) and feeling a little frustrated that certain monitors don’t post all flights---does AA own this monitor?

Here are some of my favorite things that happened at my last two jobs:

Feedback from my attempt to learn about a new product: “Tell Becky she asks too many questions in the sales call”. 

Client interaction:  I wrote a client for a meeting, and when he didn’t respond, I wrote him again and then again.  Eventually, he did respond, and he wrote: “UNSUBSCRIBE”.

I literally laughed out loud, told the story to my colleagues, and wrote back to him and said---I will definitely “Unsubscribe” you, but just so you know, I am a HUMAN and not an actual Robot.