identity crisis

CITY JEN (the dominant personality):














(featuring cameo appearance by the lovely Di Johnston. also, notice the near-nip-slippage of the left boob. heh. apparently even small boobs need double-sided tape?)


COUNTRY JEN (only comes out during business trips to rural Arkansas):

("hey there Billy Ray! tell the dog to get the hell out of my way! I'm a-comin' through! hey wait, who took my beer?")

country roooooooooads, take me hooooooooome

that has been the theme song of the past three days, a.k.a. "how many miles can I put on a rental car while I drive through the backwoods of Arkansas and the boonies of Texas to interview John Deere owners about their tractors and mowers?"

the answer: hundreds and hundreds. all driven by me. all driven in crappy rental cars (our Arkansas car -- a Ford minivan -- was affectionately referred to as "the crappy lunchbox" because it looked like a big, boxy rectangle, our Texas car is a Chevy Impala that drives okay but is extremely uncomfortable to sit in for extended periods of time).

I've met more hunters than I've ever met in my entire 26-year lifetime, I got to drive a riding lawn mower (that was fun), I checked into a crappy roadside hotel and then checked out a few hours later and made my travel department put me up in a swank hotel in downtown Little Rock when I realized the first hotel was around the corner from a state penitentiary (also when my interviewee said "ooooh... yeahhhh... make sure you lock your doors at night"), I drove around for 40 minutes in a desperate attempt to find a decent expense-account lunch that wasn't a) McDonald's b) Burger King or c) Sonic (I love Sonic, but come on... if you want to sit at a table and prep for a business meeting you don't want fast food) and had to settle for Pizza Hut, I drove past a sign that said "Penitentiary Area - Do Not Pick Up Hitchhikers," I interviewed a man who leaves his John Deeres in the garage but parks his cars in the driveway, I met another man who prefers to drink a six-pack while driving his riding lawn mower, I had an interview where the man put some Skoal into his lower right cheek as soon as our interview was over, I nearly got eaten by a Doberman Pinscher (the sign on their gate had a silhouette image of a Doberman that said "I can get to the gate in 2.9 seconds. Can you?") then realized he was a big baby who wanted to lick my face off, and I've met some lovely people who have truly proved the age-old adage that you can't judge a book by its cover.

it's been good times, people. it's a long cry from some of my past biz trips (e.g. flying international business class to Munich, staying in the Ritz Carlton in Miami Beach, long jogs on the Santa Monica shore and cruises on the Mexican Riviera) I'm exhausted and sore from all the driving in shitty cars, but I can't say it hasn't been fun. I'm too brain-dead to write much more, but I will upload pics soon. yee-freaking-haw!

sheer dumb luck?

I drove Di to the airport around 3:15 this afternoon after a long wknd filled with excessive amounts of food, alcohol, and shopping. the road to Austin-Bergstrom International Airport is quite familiar to me, since I've probably flown through there at least 20 times in the year that I've lived here... and the drop-off road in front of the terminals is quite familiar to me as well, since I've dropped off numerous buddies there after a long wknd of good times.

this afternoon's visit to ABIA started off like any other. head out from apt, take the short 15-minute drive to reminisce over the fabulous wknd, pull up to the curb in front of the Continental gate. pop trunk, help Di grab her bags, give her a big hug and then hop back into the rice rocket to go on my merry way (to work, which is where I am now). as I pulled out of my spot and eased back into the main flow of airport traffic, I went over the usual huge speed bumps and turned up my music as I drove toward the airport exit.

...except this time was different. because this time as I was rounding the curve that would bring me outside of the immediate drop-off area, I noticed that a cop turned his car around and began to follow me. not only did he begin to follow me, he turned on his sirens and tailgated the shit out of me. WTF? so I pulled over, put on my hazards and sat there, wondering what the hell I had done wrong in the 90 seconds or so since I had left the curb.

the officer (tall, white, sporting a yellow Live Strong bracelet) ambled up to my window and asked for my license and proof of insurance. as I was leaning over to oblige, I asked him what I had done wrong... and he informed that I had been pulled over for SPEEDING. apparently the area immediately in front of the airport has a speed limit of 15 mph, and I had been driving at the exorbitant speed of 25 mph. I apologized for the mistake and handed him my wrinkled proof of insurance and brand-new TX drivers' license, all the while thanking my lucky stars that I had decided to Do The Right Thing and pay the money to get a TX license that would match my TX tags (a recent acquisition, and only because my MD tags had expired)and TX insurance card (acquired on practically the first day I moved here because my rates went down when I moved here, heh).

someone must have been looking out for me, because not only did I get off with just a polite warning to "watch my speed, ma'am, and drive careful," but also because if I had decided to hang onto my MD license I would have been in major trouble. so, then, not only did I have a great wknd with Di (highlights included champagne cocktails + cheese @ hotel san jose, shopping for jewelry in my "SoCo" neighborhood, interior mexican food and margaritas @ manuel's, a relaxed viewing of bend it like beckham aka the best DVD ever, delicious breakfast tacos @ mi madre's, a long walk around the town lake trail, homemade margaritas by the pool at my apt, the most INCREDIBLE sushi ever @ uchi, cocktails in the warehouse district, make-up purchases @ sephora, hyde park bar and grill's famous fries and a root-beer float stop @ sonic), I got pulled over and only walked away with a warning! I feel like I need to go do something nice for someone else now to continue the cycle of good karma. anyone need a hand with anything? call me and I'll hook you up.

btw, friends, I'm on the road for the rest of the week to such exciting places such as "Pine Bluff Arkansas" and "McKinney Texas," which should be hilarious... I'll try and update as much as I can. in the meantime, peace out!

portrait of a morning

my alarm clock went off at the ungodly hour of 6 a.m. this morning. there was no happy Texas sunshine streaming in through my blinds to greet me. three little birds were not singing on my doorstep. instead, I fumbled around in the dark to snooze once (okay, twice) before dragging my ass out of bed and into the shower. it reminded me of winter mornings back home when I'd purposely get ready in the dark for as long as humanly possible so I could delay the painful moment when I had to turn on the excruciatingly cruel bathroom light. in fact, I did the same thing this morning... washed my face in the dark... peed in the dark... brushed my teeth in the dark... hell, even put in my contacts in the dark. I didn't turn on the light until right before I jumped in the shower because I had done a hair experiment the night before (sounds serious, doesn't it?) and I decided that my desire to see the results was worth the pain of turning on the light (in case you were wondering: the hair experiment was going to sleep with my hair in a bunch of braids to see if that would make it curly. it sort of worked but the OCD part of me was bothered that the top half and very ends were straight, so I don't think the plan will live past the experimental stage).

thankfully, the shower worked its usual magic of erasing the last remnants of sleep and getting me fully awake for the day ahead... although let's not get ahead of ourselves... it's not like I jumped out of the water singing songs or doing jumping jacks or anything. I had my eyes open -- that was victory enough. the usual post-shower routine followed... apply lotion... blow hair dry while checking the crackberry... apply make-up... stand in closet half-naked while I try and scrounge an acceptable outfit together... make bed and roll out.

once I was out and about (with a steaming vanilla non-fat latte from my neighborhood coffee joint in hand... the shower can only do so much sometimes), I felt a lot better and drove to work with the windows open and NPR on the radio. I got a sweet spot in the parking garage, headed into my office, collected my laptop and notebook and project folder and crackberry and trekked over to the main building for my 7:30 am meeting (WHY GOD WHY).

the meeting was a success. they loved most of the work, and it's all systems go. boo yeah, etc. I had another meeting immediately following that one... which brings me to now. 10:23 a.m. it feels like I've been here for an entire morning, although I must (begrudgingly) say that I've already gotten a lot done.

the main problem of getting such an early start? is that it's only 10:23 (well, 10:24 now) and I'm already starving for lunch. if I didn't have another meeting in five minutes I would so be at whole foods right now buying a slice of pizza or something.

mmm... pizza...

in praise of my brilliant career choices

I must say, I gotta hand it to this guy, because he hit the proverbial home run with this brilliant gem about (my) bullshit jobs. [note my comments in brackets]

Advertising Executive

Create perceived need/value for inherently generic or worthless products [an excellent description of what I do for a living, although I must be a geek and argue that I am lucky enough to work on a great client whose products are definitely expensive but not necessarily generic nor entirely worthless]

$$: Ground-level workers with writing ability move quickly to the top, immediately snagging low to mid-six figures; those who can spin mythological concepts surrounding quotidian household objects can command up to seven figures. [very, very true about the power of being able to wax poetic about common household products. however, wtf is this about seven figures? someone's holding out on me here.]

The upside: Great expense account living [yes - mwahaha], see your handiwork everywhere [also a yes -- I am always keeping an eye out for ads that I've worked on], the wonderful feeling of being creative and corporate at the same time [yes again... I'm wearing jeans to work today and working with my feet up on my desk].

The downside: Must take meetings with the AFLAC duck. [I've luckily been spared from that ridiculous duck, but who knows what the future holds...]

The dark side: You're considered a dinosaur at forty. [very, very true. some may even consider me a wise old veteran at the ripe age of 26.]

here is a link to the page of awesome-ness, in which you can click on other bullshit jobs to see how you stack up.

erm... is this thing on?

sorry for leaving such a doom-and-gloom rant-filled post up there for so long... I promise you that I am still alive and kickin' here in the ATX, just a bit swamped with being angry at work, the media, and the weather. but today is Monday, and a fresh opportunity to make it a kick-ass week instead of one in which my ass gets kicked, so let's be optimistic, shall we?

reasons to be optimistic:

1. I painted my toenails pink on Fri night
2. my lovely friend Paula is in town
3. although I am much more likely to endure extreme suffering the next day, I can still booze with the best of them
4. I bought kicky red shoes on Sat and am wearing them to work today
5. my lovely friend Di is coming to town this Thurs
6. I had delicious SONIC this wknd! old-fashioned root beer float for LESS THAN $2. oh how the mind boggles.
7. I'm working on a new business pitch at work and I! love! new! business! the energy! the adrenaline! the pressure! the opportunity to show off! mwa ha ha bring it on people. I'm going to kick ass.

see? optimism? warm and gooey feelings? do I not overwhelm you with my sunshiny outlook? my happy red shoes and (hot-rollered into submission) curly hair? my health-conscious and nutritious snack of fresh orange wedges?

is it too much for you? crap. sorry, my fellow cynics, do not run away. here are some reasons to have a Serious Case Of The Mondays:

1. yesterday's weather was all misty and undecided, like should I rain? yes? no? yes? no? hmm. I know! I'll just mist in the meantime and drive people crazy while they debate whether an umbrella is a) necessary or b) guaranteed to make the user look like a high-maintenance geek.
2. the kicky red shoes I bought are slightly too big and make flapping sounds while I walk.
3. Austin is known as a city with fantastic weather, where it's sunny nearly 300 days out of the year. this week's forecast? gray, stormy and unpredictable.
4. am afraid that the looming piles of work will prevent me from spending quality time with the aforementioned lovely Paula and lovely Di. crap.
5. the fresh orange wedges were a bit old and therefore a bit hard/crusty on the corners.
6. the pressure of the new biz pitch (the first one I've worked here in ATX-land) just may be the death of me.

just choose your preferred list of reasons and roll with it, you know?

knee-jerk reaction

depending on when I wake up in the morning, I usually try to listen to NPR as I'm getting ready for work. like most of the other people in this country, I was incredibly saddened as I listened to the coverage of the VA Tech tragedy... wondering how those students' lives have been affected... feeling sad for the families of the victims... etc. and then I heard them reveal the name of the shooter and the fact that he was a 23-year-old Korean kid, an English major from northern virginia.

and my heart sank even further.

and I can't really articulate why.

is it that he's Korean? is is the fact that they repeatedly referred to the guy as "South Korean student" even though he'd lived in the DC area since he was a kid? was it the fellow English major-ness? or the memories of mentoring younger Asian students in college and learning that Asian students have significantly higher rates of depression, mental instability, and suicide than their fellow college-age peers? maybe sadness at the fact that so many Asian kids are under intense pressure, yet lack the systems necessary to deal with it in a way that is both healthy and effective? I mean come on, to complete the stereotypes, his parents work at a dry cleaner. were they so busy working to chase the American dream that they forgot about their kid?

or maybe it was more just "shit. why did he have to be Korean? how is this going to affect his family? their community? the VA tech community? the larger Blacksburg community?" my friend Di pointed out that there is no rhyme or reason to mass murderers (in terms of ethnic profiles), yet for some strange, inexplicable reason I am bothered that the largest massacre to take place at an American university will be because of one Korean kid from NOVA.

it's a complicated set of feelings that don't really add up to one neat and clear diagnosis/takeaway. on one hand, I feel empathetic, and sad, and wonder what kind of life he led, and what would lead him to do something like this. on the other hand, I'm pissed that he sold us all out like this. that he killed this many innocent people. that he put us out there in such a horrible way. on another hand (yes, I am some kind of three-handed freak... roll with me here), I wonder if this will help bring important issues to light. if this will teach Asian parents (hell, all parents, but in this case, Asian ones in particular) to talk to their kids, to give them the love and support they need, to push them in a way that's still safe. far more educated people than I have written about the effects of raising children in a post-Columbine world. pale kids who wear black trench coats were forever villified, and parents lived in fear of raising a kid who might turn out to be a social outcast. what will the effects of this tragedy be? will the stereotype of the over-stressed Asian kid cause others to back away? I mean, geez, way to blow the "model minority" myth out of the water, you know?

I'm going to end this here for fear that this will turn into a preachy post, and who the hell am I to preach intelligently on this kind of topic? I didn't have this kind of upbringing, I don't have kids, I haven't studied psychology. there are people who are far more intelligent than I am who will be writing about this for years to come. in fact, I can only imagine the field day that the media is going to have with this one... race issues, psychology issues, child-rearing issues, gun-control issues, school safety issues, immigration issues, etc etc etc. I can only describe my knee-jerk reaction, which was "damn. did he have to be Korean?"

UPDATED TO ADD A LINK TO AN EXCELLENT WAPO ARTICLE:

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/04/17/AR2007041701924.html?hpid=topnews