Like, totally!

Several months ago, Twin and I were on our way to yet another company happy hour open bar event (somehow these manage to get scheduled on a monthly basis at least). We had to walk up 8th avenue for about 15 blocks, which was the perfect amount of time for me to relay a story to Twin. At this point, I have no idea what the story entailed. All I know is that it was the end of a long day and I was very passionate about getting this story across (shocker).

So we’re walking up 8th and I am heatedly telling Twin whatever it was I had to tell her. It was likely venting about something at work or one of my roommates or something and so there was a lot of “Ohmygod, and then she was like [blah blah blah] and then I was like [blah ">blah blah!]” and so on. I’m sure it was not the most intriguing story and I know I was certainly not speaking eloquently by any stretch of the imagination. But that really wasn’t the point.

In the middle of one of my “ohmygod, like, whatever” statements, this woman cuts in front of me (this takes skill, since walking past Port Authority at 6:30pm in the middle of the week is just a little bit crowded). She turns to me, her anger actually tangible, and says in the most cutting tone:

“Do you have ANY IDEA how many times you have just said LIKE???”

Twin and I stopped dead in our tracks as this woman continued walking with a weird air of pride and vindication. We looked at each other in shock (and slight horror) and then immediately burst out laughing.

I mean, what? Ok, sure, I was saying “like” a lot. I realize that. Sometimes when I’m tired (or not, even) and sometimes when I speak quickly and heatedly, “like” is a filler word that appears on my speech more times than it should. But again – what?!

I wasn’t offended by this woman’s absurd explosion – I was actually incredibly amused – but what really struck me was how fucking angry she was. So angry, so appalled, that she felt the need to tell me, a total stranger on 8th avenue, how disgusted she was with the way I was telling a story. I think it made her angrier that all I could do was stare incredulously back.

As if that outburst weren’t inappropriate enough, Twin and I continued up the street (an awkward 2-3 feet away at all times from this woman) and then had to stop at a red light. On the corner. Next to this woman. And of course she felt the need to turn to me, AGAIN, and express her utter disgust at my speech pattern 3 blocks ago. “Really, do you have to say ‘like’ so many times? It’s just ridiculous.”

Of course Twin burst out laughing again as I just stared blankly at this woman, probably reaffirming her snap judgement that I am an airheaded ditz with very poor conversation skills.

Mental Plan Uprooted: Career vs. Job

Wednesday morning, one of the senior directors of my team at work called me into his office. My manager was there as well and a look of dread must have flickered across my face as I opened the door cautiously, because the senior director laughed and told me to chill out. Even so, I was nervous – I’ve gotten off to a rough start this quarter numbers-wise and I didn’t hit my goal last quarter, either.

And then they told me I was getting promoted.

At first I was hesitant – this promotion also involves moving to another, slightly different team: I’ll still be using much of the same knowledge, but I’ll get to really hone my strengths of hyper-organization, thriving on consistency, and leadership skills. As it sunk in, so did the excitement. By the end of the day, I was giddy. I get to co-manage three people with the possibility of hiring one or two more in the next several months. Effective January, 1 (stupid fiscal years), my salary will be significantly increased. Maybe most importantly, with my company growing, expanding, and going through some potentially ground-breaking changes in the relatively near future, this is an incredibly beneficial and key career move for me.

And then it really hit me – this is a career move. This isn’t a new job. This isn’t a run-of-the-mill Junior-to-Senior promotion. This turns my current job into a career path.

I imagine to most people, the typical reaction to that would be along the lines of excitement, eagerness, relief, and a sense of security.

I’m excited and very eager to make this transition, but I’m not relieved at all. In fact, I’m scared shitless. On Monday, I will have been at my current company for exactly 1 year and 5 months. In that time I’ve had one promotion and two pay-raises and learned more about marketing, management, and the online industry than I ever dreamed possible from “just a job.” Because that’s what this has always been – a job. I’ve never looked at what I’m doing as a career path and I was ok with that because I’ve always loved working for this company. Now, because of this promotion and subsequent amazing career move, my entire Mental Plan is being uprooted:

Previous Mental Plan: Renew UES apartment lease with R1 and R2 for 2010. Take GMATs in 2010. Prepare to apply to business school, possibly to start Fall ‘11. Prepare to leave NYC in 2011.

Current Mental Plan: Renew UES apartment lease with R1 and R2 for 2010. … … … ?????

On one hand, I’m thrilled to be moving into this new position – career! – as it really will open so many doors for me. I think especially in terms of business school (which is a definite fixture in the MP), this opportunity will be more beneficial than I can even comprehend or predict right now.

On the other hand, though, I think it’s really scary to settle into a career. Not that I’m bound to this in any way, but as much as I thrive on consistency, it’s also one of the scariest things to me. This promotion means a commitment to my company and to myself; it means making a decision that will likely effect where my life goes. I realize how trite that all sounds and how I’ll likely look back on this and laugh at my slight naivete (an awesome benefit of being painfully self-aware: I can say shit like this and it still doesn’t change the way I think or react).

I think this really just points to how, right now, I am terrified of doing anything that will possibly set my life on a path I’m not 100% certain I want to go down. It’s ironic since I spent years training myself to live day by day instead of constantly in the future. Apparently I did that a little too well – and now I need to train myself to strike a balance.

The Zubaz Girls

Unless you are not American or you have been living under a rock, you are at least mildly aware that it’s football season.

I have explained about my Buffalo Bills Fan Status before, so if you need a refresher course go read this. Also go read one of my really early posts, where I mention a certain pair of pants. Those pants really were not the focus of that previous post, but they most certainly are the focus of this one.

This past Sunday Twin and the other girls and I were at good ol’ McFadden’s, drinking our $20 worth of unlimited Bud Light and wings. It was also barely pushing 60 degrees here in NYC, so of course Twin and I were in those pants. (If you haven’t clicked on the pants link, you should because they are hilarious, but the point is the pants are called Zubaz. Like Zoo-Buzz. Yes, they are essentially red, white, and blue zebra print pajama pants. And yes, I wear them to the bar every Sunday.)

Anyway, Twin and I wore them every Sunday last season, too, but apparently never realized the effect we had on the general bar population. (Actually, I’m lumping Twin in here with me because she wears the same pants – but really, I’m the only one who’s been approached. It’s weird.)

The point is we’re famous! And I wrote you this movie script to illustrate it. The cast consists of Twin (as Girl #1), FBF (as himself), and me (as Girl #2). Enjoy.

The Scene: MTA subway car, 4 or 5 express train, moving uptown from 42nd Street/Grand Central. Two girls, visibly intoxicated, wearing vivid, possibly blinding pajama pants. They are loud, oblivious to the rest of the car; they appear to be having a photo shoot of themselves.

(Girl #1 rises to exit subway car at 59th and Lexington. She must live in Queens. Her pants are an affront to regular Sunday evening passengers. She mumbles goodbye to her drunken counterpart and leaves.)

(Girl #2 blacks into the scene. She is suddenly aware of a fellow Bills fan across from her, though she does not appear to have full usage of both eyes.)

Girl #2 (visibly excited): What’s UP!

Fellow Bills Fan (FBF): I think your pants are bad luck.

Girl #2: Bullshit. I wear these every weekend.

FBF: You didn’t wear them last weekend.

Girl #2 (confused, as it becomes clear she has not seen or met FBF previously): I might have been wearing them. You don’t know that.

FBF: I do know that. You’re one of the Zubaz Girls.

Girl #2: Are you serious?

FBF: Sure, we always see you. My friend was texting me about you earlier tonight, too.

(Girl #2, still incredulous but too filled with beer to respond, gets up to exit the train. FBF follows. The two realize they live within blocks of each other. Girl #2 flees.)

End Scene.