Must Be a Keeper

Not only did he give me a scanner/copier/printer this weekend, but the boyfriend spent over an hour on Sunday morning installing the software and making sure it would work with Vista (which it didn't at first). It seems the way to this woman's heart is not through food or music or poetry, but through the HP Officejet All-in-One. Yes, I'm a lucky girl!

Last Day in the Office

I've been anticipating my last day at work for awhile, but now that it's come and gone, it's kind of surreal (but not in a bad way). Like, for instance, when I realized that I didn’t have to reset my cell phone alarm for 7:20am or turn it to vibrate on Monday morning. I’ve been getting up earlier so I can get a jump on applying for writing gigs, but it’s nice to know that I don’t have to.

Today, in fact, I got up at 6am, because I was so excited about being full time freelance. I started emailing people (who probably think I am crazy for being on Gmail at 6am on a Saturday) and knocking things off my (rather lengthy) to-do list. Then I hit the gym, wrote an article, supervised a photo shoot for one of my other articles, and shopped for office supplies at Staple’s. That way I won’t have to feel guilty when I do my laundry or take a long lunch during the workday (competition is stiff for the dryer in the adjacent building – must schedule strategically).

You’re probably wondering how my last day at the office went. I won’t bore you with the details, but everyone seemed really, genuinely supportive. It helps that I’ve agreed to take them on as a client so we can tie up a few more projects. As I walked to the bar after work for my going away party, one of my coworkers mentioned that she’d invited a friend to join us.

“I hope that’s OK.”

“Of course,” I said. “Everyone is welcome.”

Her friend arrived and asked the obligatory question about what I’m doing next. “I’m a full time freelance writer now!” I announced proudly, unsure if this would mean anything to him.

“Really?” he answered. “I work for a PR agency, and we’re always looking for freelancers.”

I told him that I have a degree in public relations and shamelessly offered him my business card, which he accepted.

Like I said before, “everyone is welcome.”

When You Need an Elevator Pitch

Today I was chatting with one of our interns and said to him "so, you know I won't be in the office after next week, right?" He's not my intern, so I can understand why he hadn't heard yet (but that is another story).

"No, what are you doing after next week?"

I'd tried to keep the freelance thing on the DL prior to my big announcement, but now I figured I could let him in on my double life. "I'm going to focus on my freelance writing."

Some college students have no idea that staying home to write about cocktails or luxury hotels is even an option. But this guy is a film student, so he knows about nontraditional careers.

"Wow, that's so cool! How'd you get into that? What do you write about? Do you mind my asking?"

Now, if you're going to do something cool, then you should be willing to talk about it. Even if you hate bragging or you feel self-conscious talking about yourself, when someone gives you an opening like that, you need to say something. It totally made my day.

Random Thoughts on CVS

Forty-eight percent of you said the content you enjoy reading most on this blog is my random musings. The rest of you can skip this post.

• I love CVS coupons. When I get one of those coupons for $4 off a $20 purchase, I will literally scour the aisles and fill up with my basket with $20.01 worth of drug store lipstick and Post-It Notes. Or if it’s $2 off of toilet paper or vitamins, I’ll stock up on those. But it’s OK, because someday I will get another $4 in Extra Bucks.
• Sometimes, though, I get coupons for diapers or baby wipes. And supposedly, this is because someone in marketing has been analyzing my purchases and strategizing to get me to buy more. What about a person who buys lipstick and toilet paper says “I have a child”? Maybe they should give me a coupon for $1 off e.p.t... Because I’m starting to wonder.
• Yesterday I went into CVS to get Dr. Scholl’s gel inserts to go inside a pair of new shoes (I’d bought them cheaply because they were cute and now I had to pay another $12 to make them wearable). Whose idea was it to put shoe supplies and foot care products on opposite ends of the store? They must get a sick thrill from watching me hobble around in confusion. In case you ever need to know, Dr. Scholl’s is a foot care product, not a shoe supply.

Happy Turkey Day!

This Thanksgiving, I am thankful for:

• My health
• Friends and family who support my writing habit
• Friends and family who appreciate my cooking
• My trusty laptop (we've been through a lot together)
• The not-so-trusty electricity in my apartment (it may be unreliable, but at least I have it)
• Coffeeshops that are open late and offer free wifi
• The Boston Public Library System (who, I might add, have not yet figured out that I moved across the river - shh!)
• Being able to make money doing something I love
• Half.com
• Editors who actually return my emails and increase my pay rates
• Netflix
• Chai lattes with skim milk
• My wonderful blog readers!

I'm hoping that most of you are celebrating with your family instead of reading my blog, so there will be no 5 Q's this week. Happy Thanksgiving!

Weekend Update

I was about to title this post "Post-Mortem." Since no one died simply because I stepped away from the computer, that would make a rather morbid headline. So I chose "weekend update" instead so I could invoke SNL-style humor. Anyway...

I highly recommend taking a "Golden Weekend" to fight burn out. Even though I returned to three unsigned contracts (contract negotiation = my favorite!! NOT) and several unwritten assignments, it was just want I needed to recharge my creative batteries. Over the course of the weekend, the s.o. and I even came up with a few article ideas, which I jotted down and promptly forgot about so I could enjoy my break.

Speaking of jotting down ideas, lately I've been pondering what type of notebooks work best. I used to love cute little pocket-sized ones for their portability and their style points. Then one day I unexpectedly ran out of paper at work, which forced me to open the black hole known as our supply closet (we also have a snack closet, but I actually know how to find stuff in there; Ranch Doritos and I are intimately familiar, toner cartridges and printer paper not so much).

Horror of horrors... we only had a large, ugly, half-used legal pad. But to my surprise, I actually liked writing on the legal pad, because it's ginormous size gave me plenty of space for making lists and mapping out fabulous ideas for taglines and web copy. It seems like the larger the size, the more ideas I have to fill the space. Maybe next week I'll try one of those giant easel pads that we use for brainstorming sessions. Actually, that might work well for novel-writing purposes to get the juices flowing... What's your secret weapon?

Journalism Rocks

Until last week, I had a t-shirt that boldly proclaimed my love of journalism. Due to an unfortunate incident with bleach, I no longer have said t-shirt. Feeling glum, I went back to the website in a sad attempt to reconnect with my lost love. Lo and behold, it was still available and ON SALE!! Now I know it's true love.

Getting Settled

Focusing on writing has been a challenge this week. We don’t have internet in my apartment yet, but that has actually been kind of a blessing. It’s forced me to explore my new neighborhood and try out all the coffeeshops and other hang outs that offer wifi (not so good for my waistline that I’m also forced to order pastries and Italian sodas at each location). It’s also eliminated most of the mindless web surfing that tends to happen between 9pm and midnight. I’ve gotten pretty savvy about maximizing my internet time: copying articles and emails into a Word doc so I can read or respond later and making lists of everything I have to Google.

I’ve also managed remarkably well without a desk. Last night I was jogging and ruminating about the recent desk drama when I saw the perfect desk in a store window. Today I went back and nabbed the very last one in stock. My little brother (being the coolest college junior on the planet and an All Around Awesome Guy) drove over to pick up me and the desk and lug the pieces up the stairs. We haven’t actually assembled it, but seeing all the pieces neatly stacked in the corner gives me a sense of peace. *Sighs contentedly* This blog should return to your regularly scheduled programming any day now…

Times like this...

I wish I were a full-time freelancer. Now that I'm moved into the new digs, Mom and I went furniture shopping today. I sold my desk before I left my old apartment and I've been looking forward to choosing something newer and more functional where I can do all my writing/surfing/online shopping/emailing.

Well, today we found The Desk. Its compact, has tons of storage, AND it's in my price range. The catch is that it's only available through delivery and they only deliver on weekdays between 9 and 5 (they can't give me a window, so I'll have to set aside the whole day, natch).

OK, I thought, it's worth taking a vacation day so that I can get my apartment set up the way I want it. But then I realized that over the next several weeks I don't have any open days that I could take off. I'd have to skip the company retreat or reschedule interviews or miss deadlines so I could sit around and wait for some delivery person who may or may not appear on the appointed day.

How are people with jobs supposed to get anything done? I'll just have to put off getting a desk until I have a free day, because frankly, Mom doesn't want to spend the day at my apartment any more than I would want her poking around my pantry unchaperoned.

Moving, Part 2

Price of an air conditioner on Craig's List: $20
Cost of a cab ride to get air conditioner home: $20 ($6 plus a generous tip for lugging AC unit up to the third floor)
Not dying of heatstroke: priceless!

As you can imagine, not much writing has happened this weekend. Hope to be back soon!

Tech Wasteland

My apartment is basically where tech equipment goes to die. I’m on computer #3 since starting college. I’ve also had 3 iPods (miraculously, one was a replacement courtesy of Apple), and my current one keeps freezing whenever I plug it into my computer. They say that some people are just not good with technology, and unfortunately I am one of those people.

My most recent tech disaster? Loosing wifi just two weeks before I move into a new apartment. Technically I can pick up other wireless signals so I know that my wireless card is working. But since I’m paying for a secure network, I prefer to use that rather than stealing some spotty unreliable signal from down the street.

I called RCN tech support and they instructed me to do all of the things that one normally does when they loose wireless (restart router, restart computer, refresh network list, rinse and repeat until you want to just throw computer out the window instead ). Part of my job is IT project management (ha!), so I felt like “yes, of course I restarted my computer, no, I don’t need to do it again!” Eventually the support person got sick of me and told me to call Linksys.

Spent an hour on hold with Linksys, got disconnected, called back and went through the same song and dance with their tech support people. After two long, frustrating hours, they concluded that I need to call RCN and get a new router. That same day I got a bill from RCN saying they had raised my monthly bill to $100 for wireless that I can’t even access! AND when I move out in two weeks, I have two days to schlep out to the ‘burbs and return my useless router before they bill my credit card. You know what? I’ve waited on hold into the wee hours of the morning, and I’ve had enough. I’m stealing whatever spotty unreliable signal I can get from down the street! Hence, my posts may be a little spotty and unreliable over the next few weeks.

One of "those days"

I took today off so I could recover from my trip to DC and take a writing class with a certain essayist whom I admire. Despite landing an hour late last night, I woke up frighteningly early this morning (purely out of habit) and I managed to make breakfast, wash two loads of laundry, and visit my favorite used book store before class. I put on a short denim skirt and wandered around campus feeling like a young, bright-eyed co-ed with all the time in the world to sit in coffee shops and muse over Milton.

Until I got to class and realized that I hadn't printed out three copies of an essay to share with the class. Then it really felt like college again! Luckily, instead of putting a big red X by my name, the instructor agreed to let me print a copy in the office (I have entire volumes of writing stored in Gmail). But I really, desperately wanted to make a good impression on this woman, so I spent most of the next two hours thinking "gosh, you really blew it, Susan!" Note to self: always bring writing samples to a writing class. Duh!

Nineties Nostalgia

Those of you who came of age in the 1990’s probably remember the Scholastic book orders. Once a month, the teacher handed out those colorful little order forms that listed all of the books available to students that month (this was pre-Amazon, of course). I pored over all the options and saved up my allowance to buy Babysitter’s Club and American Girl books, most of which set me back $0.99 to $2.99.

If the desired book was more expensive, I could usually get Mom to write a check for the sake of literacy. Recently I found myself reminiscing about all the books I read back in the day (for those of you who have kids in school, do they still hand out book orders and if so, how much do Scholastic books cost nowadays?). Now if I usually hit up the library (and befriend book publicists) for reading material, because books have gotten very expensive. Yes, they last longer than a movie, but at the rate I plow through them, I rarely pay full price. What do you miss about your childhood?

The Search Continues...

I know it's been a couple of days since I've written, and truth be told, well... there isn't a lot to tell. At least not on the writing front. I had an apartment lined up and just before I signed the lease, the roommate went MIA (yes, I tried emailing and calling; no, I'm not going to just show up on her doorstep and force her to get a restraining order). So now I'm scrambling to find another place to live for the fall, and I haven't had much time to work on writing projects. Hopeully things calm down after July 4th. I promise to give an update later this week about the Media Bistro class I attended last week. In the meantime, back to pounding the pavement...

How Delta (Nearly) Ruined My Trip

Warning: if you don’t like rants, then don’t read this entry…

It started out like any other cross-country flight, but somehow I could sense that things would go awry. I was flying home after visiting my parents (one of whom has been sick for awhile), so the last thing I needed was airplane drama. I told the flight attendants repeatedly that I was worried about making my connection and perhaps it wasn’t logical for me to sit in the far back of the aircraft with only 35 minutes until my next flight. They assured me I had plenty of time. Then we sat on the tarmac for awhile. And sat some more…

I called Delta’s customer service number to ask if my connecting flight was delayed. A very nice customer service rep named “Albert” told me it was running late and that in the event that I was unable to make my connection (the last flight of the evening, natch), Delta would make accommodations for the night. I thanked him and waited to deboard. We sat for an hour and eighteen minutes (the woman behind me timed it), so by the time I got off the plane, my flight to Boston had departed. I half thought about calling a friend from college to beg a spot on her futon, but the other passengers kept reassuring me that “Delta will take care of you” and “I’m sure they’ll put you up in a nice hotel.”

The person at my gate pointed me down a long hallway to get re-ticketed. The person at that desk had already gone home for the night (of course), but a nice janitor assured me that “Delta will take care of you” and lead me to the ticket counter, which turned out to be in the opposite direction. Well, unfortunately, Delta did NOT take care of me. They booked me on the 7am flight the following morning, and when I had the audacity to ask about overnight accommodations, they all but laughed in my face.

“But Albert said…” I stammered in disbelief.

Another customer service rep named “Lawrence” (no one in customer service has a last name so that no one can be held accountable for anything) told me it wasn’t the airline’s fault and therefore, they wouldn’t be making any hotel accommodations. Not for me, and not for the women who was seven months pregnant. We’d just have to tough it out in JFK airport for the night. He didn’t know, and didn’t want to discuss, "Albert" at Delta’s headquarters. Nor would he answer the question, "would you want your daughter to sleep here?"

I for one did not feel safe as a young, single woman sleeping in an abandoned airport terminal. (In fact, my family used to show up freakishly early for flights and I’d had nightmares about being that crazy homeless family wandering the airport; this was pre 9/11 of course.) So I thought, “I guess I better call my friend from college to beg a spot on her futon.” Seventy five dollars and an hour and a half later, I arrived on her doorstep sans deodorant, toothpaste or even a change of clothes, courtesy of luggage restrictions. She was a good sport about the last minute visit on a worknight and insisted that I sleep on her bed (for about two hours, then I had to go back to the airport).

My cab driver made fun of me for wasting money going to Manhattan. But I figured, “I have a futon, food and a friend downtown and if I stay at the airport, it’s dirty floors and, if I’m lucky, a stale bag of Sun Chips for dinner (all of the shops were closed and I didn’t have single bills for the vending machines).” You can guess which one seemed more appealing.

Hours of travel: twenty-two
Hours of sleep: two
Reconnecting with a friend during an impromptu sleepover: priceless

Still, I want my seventy-five bucks (and my beauty sleep) back!

Snow Day vs. Snowed In

Thanks to the weather, I had to cancel happy hour with the girls, which makes me very UN-happy. Most of the schools in the area were closed today, but my office, of course, was not. My boss left after lunch, instructing me to "hold down the fort" in her absence. Alas, I was too antsy about missing girl's night to get anything done.

Why is it that when you're a kid you pray for a snow day, and when you're a grown-up those pretty white flakes simply translate into traffic delays and frozen pipes and only the fun things get canceled? Now that I'm home, I plan to spend the evening blogging and reading the latest issue of Cosmo, which fortuitously arrived today. And if I'm good, maybe they'll be a grown-up hot chocolate in my future...

Pass the Thin Mints!

Newsweek's My Turn is one of my favorite personal essay columns, and this week's essay particularly caught my eye. What really works is that the author takes an almost universal experience (selling Girl Scout cookies with his daughter) and shares observations that most people probably wouldn't have on their own.

I was a Girl Scout for five years (six if you count Daisy's), so I remember cookie-selling season pretty vividly. One year I canvassed the whole town and sold over 120 boxes. I found that cookies essentially sell themselves because who can resist a cute little redhead in a brownie uniform? (Don't answer if you are currently trolling the Internet for things that you really shouldn't be...) But once I branched out into other fundraisers like selling overpriced gift wrap, I realized how hard door-to-door sales can be.

When I recently bought some shortbread cookies, I had to resist the urge to tell the poor little brownie that "when I was your age, these only cost $2" (I'm really not old enough to be making those kind of statements!). I kinda feel bad for kids doing fundraisers. Just last weekend I bought a magazine subscription from my younger brother to spare him the indignity of asking his classmates or professors to support his fraternity (and of explaining why a fraternity that charges its members hundreds of dollars to join needs to fundraise in the first place...) See how reading that column takes me back? That's what I hope to evoke in my own writing!

A Whole Yelp World

Before I had blogger, I had yelp, and life was pretty good. I love yelp's MySpace-meets-Citysearch concept and I've been dying to write a FOB (front-of-book piece for the uninitiated) about it, but so far no go, so I thought I'd post my random "yelp"-ings here (perhaps it will balance out the negative karma of my last blog post).

I love that Yelp gives reviewers a face so you know if that "bad bar" review is coming from a 20-something hipster or an older suburbanite. With Zagat or CitySearch, you just never know...

I love that Yelp gave me a place to organize all my favorite restaurants, bars, theatres, and more. View them here.

I love that Yelp cracks down on "spelpers" - those who post fake reviews of their own restaurants, bars, etc.

I love that YelpTalk has created a sense of community where people feel equally comfortable asking for recommendations on bikini waxes (!) or biking excursions. Gotta love the randomness of questions about the subway system and local politics.

I love that Yelp hosts free happy hours. Yes, I realize that's it's a strategic marketing ploy to promote up-and-coming bars and other services, but free drinks are free drinks. Yelp on!

Good News for Susie Co-Ed?

My friend Lyn sent me a link to "The Romantic Life of Brainiacs" in last week's Boston Globe Magazine. We rejoiced in the author's conclusion that a Harvard MBA hasn't kept many Mass. women from finding a mate. Michael Noer over at Forbes would disagree. The New York Times covered this supposed trend (women staying unattached longer - ever heard of Queen Elizabeth I?) last month. They later admitted that their statistics may have been a little skewed in the aptly titled Can a 15-year old be a 'woman without a spouse'? Perhaps in some parts of the antebellum South, but here in Boston in 2007, you're not an old maid unless you're wearing high-button shoes and using phrases like "gentleman caller" (theatre productions of "The Glass Menagerie" do not count). Or at least that's what I tell myself, because there's another wedding of high school friends this weekend. Here's to smart women everywhere!

It's Always Something, Isn't It?

Several fellow bloggers have written about money woes recently. I don't claim to have all the answers, but since I opened a small business account and starting keeping track of my writing expenses separately, things have run more smoothly and I feel comfortable knowing I'm not eating away at my savings.

My issues are computer-related. I don't need a financial planner (yet), but I do need tech support on call 24/7. I was totally irresponsible and let my anti-virus software lapse, so when I had a virus scare last week, I immediately dipped into my freelance fund and renewed it. Turns out I don't have a virus, but I'm out of memory (joy). It took over an hour to download the updated anti-virus software, then things came to a screeching halt.

Another computer shortcoming: I've hidden it well for the past year and a half, but my Dell laptop only came with WordPerfect. It's a huge nuisance, because every time someone sends me a spreadsheet or a Word document with graphics, I have to go to the library to open it. So a few weeks ago I decided "I'm a working writer, I should invest in basic writing software" (basic meaning $200+!) MS Office was going to be my next computer purchase. Nope. Now I need more memory just to function normally.

I called my boyfriend (who has an engineering degree, by the way) to ask him about it. "How do I check my computer's memory? I don't know what to do!" I moaned. It's ironic, really, because at my first post-college job, I was the IT person (it was a non-profit, we wore many hats). His guess was as good as mine, because he's a fan of antiquated software and still works in Windows '97. Thankfully, one of the people I volunteer with (a brand new theatre company that needed PR consulting) has more tech sense than I do and offered to advise me on purchasing and installing more memory. I did a little research and discovered that a memory upgrade for my sad little Dell will run $80+ plus another $40 for installation. After shelling out $50 for virus protection and anticipating the eminent need for MS Office, I'm wondering if it's time to abandon ship. Hopefully my new best friend the IT guy will be able to talk some sense into my laptop.

Now, if you'll excuse me, this soul-sucking work week has left me exhausted. So instead of going out for a Grey Goose martini to bring on the weekend, I'm going to watch Grey's Anatomy. That's right, I'm a huge nerd and I'm not ashamed to admit it!