The World…As I See It: Striving to be an Expert at Something

Not a “good” song but the first one that came to mind…

When I Grow Up – Pussycat Dolls

When we were all in primary school, family, teachers and friends constantly asked, “What do you want to be when you grow up?”.  If you were anything like me, the answer to that question changed quite drastically, quite often.  (That is if you had an answer at all…)

At my kindergarten graduation, I proudly, and much to the surprise of my mother, announced that unlike my female classmates who wanted to be doctors or ballerinas, I wanted to be a policewoman (emphasis on the woman).  By elementary school I’d moved on to a more traditional veterinarian, only to develop an allergy to cats.  During middle school, I wanted to be a pop singer.  In junior high, a criminologist.  And by college, I happily followed the degree track for public relations.

At those times in my life, my goals and decisions were based solely on perception.  I have no idea where the policewoman came from but for everything else, those careers seemed cool and were (somewhat) related to my interests.  I loved dogs so obviously I was supposed to become a vet.  Music has been a long time passion of mine and I have a pretty good singing voice (patting myself on the back) so a pop singer it was.

Due to my analytical and potentially scientific mind and far too many episodes of Law and Order and CSI, a criminologist sounded pretty cool.  The idea of being a (functional) part of the justice system and proving people wrong without having to carry a gun or put myself in any real danger sounded like a great idea to me.

Our senior year high school counselor for whatever reason suggested I consider public relations.  I understood little more than the concept of a publicist but with a little research, PR sounded like a good fit.  I studied it for four years, learned just how relative it was, felt confident I had the necessary skill sets and GOT A JOB a month after I graduated!!!  Three years of loyal service was simply not enough to keep me employed during the “Great Recession.”  Working in a non-essential industry when your clients are facing financial and employee losses is not a good place to be… LAID OFF!

A couple of months later, I was fortunate enough to land a position in economic development for a prosperous city.  And there I am.  Very interesting, right?  Ok, probably not so much but my point is I have no better idea what I want to be when I grow up now than I did in kindergarten.  The only thing that’s really changed is having a better idea of what I DON’T want to be.

I’ve worked in areas that I was “good at” but that I didn’t find all that interesting.  In other words, I could do it but didn’t really want to.  The idea of becoming an “expert” in those areas sounded like a chore, rather than a goal.  A possibility, not a passion.

This concept of becoming an expert in my job is neither to my credit nor discredit.  It’s a part of my current boss’s mantra.  She wants her staff to be more than just “good” at what we do.  She wants us to strive to be and to also be considered by other people experts in our areas.  For the sake of her/our business, that goal makes complete sense.  In an industry/job equally influenced by skill AND perception, we need to be experts on the topic or at least on the experts.  The concept being sound there are still two very important questions to ask: 1.) Can YOU become an expert in your area? and 2.) Do you WANT to?  It’s okay if you can’t say immediately say yes to either but you should be working your way toward a definitive answer.

I have a strong feeling I’m not in my final career path.  Who knows where life experiences, tv shows, personal suggestions and random encounters will take me?  All I can hope is they’ll all lead me to a place I love and want to be.  I hope to be able to do more than sufficiently answer the question.  I hope to be able to find ways to get you to ask the question just so I can answer it with more information than you knew you wanted.  🙂  To be a fountain of knowledge, however useless it might be.  I’ve started that collection of random information in relation to contemporary music.  But maybe I should work on identifying a more “realistic” or at least useful subject.  I need another passion.

Two questions for you: What are you an “expert” in and is that in any way related to your current occupation?

Jo’van

December 27, 2010
Categories: The World...As I See It (Everything Else), Whole Truth, The . Tags: , , , , , , , , . Author: tjovand . Comments: 3 Comments

Quarterlife Crisis: Giving Up the (615)

Oh, young Luda.  Gotta love it.  This song doesn’t really apply but it came to mind so here you go!

A few weeks ago, I made one of the hardest decisions of this year.  (I’d say of my life but that would just be over-dramatic.)  Sure, getting a tattoo, cutting off my hair, accepting a new job, finally having “that” conversation with my roommate were all important and took guts.  BUT giving up the phone number I’ve had for nearly 8 years was a big deal.  Not only am I too lazy to remember another number (since 2001, it’d just rolled off the tongue) but getting this new number meant something more important: giving up the 615 area code.

I am originally from Nashville, TN.  While there are things about the city and region that I can’t stand (race relations, ignorance, allergens, men with grills, etc), Nashville is home.  Mother, grandmothers, childhood home, high school friends, familiar restaurants, great hairdresser, you know, all of the important things. 🙂  As a high school senior, there was nothing I wanted more than to get out of Nashville and Tennessee.  College (luckily) was never a question. I just knew that I was not staying  anywhere with a TN in the address.  So I told myself I’d go to whatever school gave me the best offer out-of-state.  I was blessed to be an above average student with high PSAT scores, from a middle-class family, a female and a minority.  For schools looking to offer “merit-based” scholarships, the combination doesn’t get much better.  I’m not foolish enough to deny that.  However, that could be an entirely different “Shades of Understanding” post.  In fact, the school I actually attended was the school that gave me the second best offer but that explanation deserves another “Shades of Understanding” post of its own.  In due time.  In due time.

Anyway, I attended Iowa State University.  For all accounts, it was a good school.  Like anywhere new, there were things that were less than ideal and just plain sad, but I met some wonderful people, received a good education and was given several wonderful, life-altering opportunities.  But obviously, Ames, IA was not home.  So I never changed my cell phone number.  I knew I wouldn’t be in Iowa for more than four years.  There was something rebellious about keeping my hometown phone number.  I WOULD NOT become a resident of Iowa.  Sure, it just made sense at that time to keep it.  TN was still a part of my permanent address and drivers license.  Holding onto that 615 wouldn’t really mean anything until I had a new permanent address.

3 1/2 years ago, I accepted a job offer in Austin, TX and moved.  Not everything has been perfect but it’s been good.  I don’t regret that move and have come to appreciate the city.  I still don’t know if Austin’s going to be home but until a new target city emerges, I’m perfectly content here.  Two months into my stay, I got a speeding ticket and had to get a TX license to qualify for defensive driving.  That was pretty painful but legally required.  Not having a real choice makes it easier to choose.  Since then, I’ve done pretty much all things Austin and Texas.  I’m still waiting to purchase my first pair of cowboy boots but give me time.  The one thing I hadn’t done was change my phone number.  Somehow 512 just didn’t sound as good as 615 to me.    8 years is a long time to have a relationship with anything.  In this digital age, your cell phone number and email address are really a part of your identity.  I preferred to remain identified with Tennessee.

So what made me finally give it up?  Money.  I wish it was something more poetic but it’s just not.  My new gig provides stipends for cell phones and smartphones if you agree to use them for business.  Seeing as I’d already put my work email on my Blackberry, I figured I should accept the stipend.  The amount is actually like 150% of my regular monthly bill.  Ok, I’ll take that.  I’ll make a little profit for doing what I was already planning to do.  The only issue was that since we’re an Austin-centric business, it only makes sense for employees receiving the stipend to have Austin numbers.  So save a little money or hold onto an area code that means nothing to anyone but you?  Ok. Don’t be stupid.

Sure, I’d had that number for almost a decade.  Yes, my grandmothers know the number.  Sure, you’d run the risk of losing touch with old friends.  (But then again if you were really that close, you’d find a way to get in touch.  I’ve had the same email address since 2001 also…)  But I’m also 25, have lived in Austin for more than 3 years and it’s makes financial sense to change.  Done.

I sent a mass text to the people in my phone that ended with something like “Please update my number or use this as an excuse to lose touch.”  I got some negative responses to that but that just means they were paying attention.  The people that didn’t respond were handed their way out. 🙂

Still struggling to remember my new number,

Jo’van

November 29, 2009
Categories: Quarterlife Crisis, Whole Truth, The . Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Author: tjovand . Comments: 1 Comment

Quarterlife Crisis: Halloween Ho

So this Halloween I did it.  I did what every judgemental woman and man loves to see on Halloween so they can feel justified in their judgement.  I fulfilled the stereotype of women who just want an excuse to be naked in public.  I looked like a Halloween Ho.  Please note I said looked like a Halloween Ho.  Actions would require an entirely different post.  I just dressed the part.

While I generally judge, I can’t really say anything against people deciding to be half-naked in public.  Do what you do.  It just provides me with more things to point and laugh at.  So as one of these perpetually judgemental people, why would I volunteer to be cold and naked in public at the end of October?

There’s not a good answer to that question.  Or at least there’s not one that sounds good.  To be perfectly honest, the situation simply presented itself.  Between feeling more confident in my body, caring (a little) less about what strangers think of me, enjoying the company of my friends, having flatter abs than ever and someone providing me with the outfit AND shoes, saying no just would’ve been stubborn.  Not wrong, just stubborn.  I never did the teenage/college Halloween Ho thing.  I’ve always been covered and warm.  For whatever reason,  the outfits never really caught my attention.  I mean of course I noticed that attention they did grab but somehow I was above all of that.  This year, I wasn’t above, below, beside, behind, or anything else.  I was indifferent and thought “what the hell?”

Any regrets? No, not really.  I could use the justification that I was more covered than I would be at a beach.  But that scenario is flawed because I wouldn’t be the only person in a bathing suit.  Dressing like a pirate wench with her chest elevated, abs exposed and boots covering 4 times as much skin as her skirt, I didn’t expect to see too many people looking like me.  And to make things even worse, we spent our evening on the “classy” side 6th street, the infamous bar area of Austin.  (Yes, there are other interesting/entertaining districts, but 6th street is well known.)  Instead of hanging out with the 19 year olds with fake IDs and more skin showing than clothes, I instead hung out with the “I’m too old east 6th but still want to get drunk at a bar downtown on Halloween” crowd.  The median age was probably a year or two older than me and the metabolisms had already begun to slow down.  We were past the “all I consume is beer and pizza and I’m still a size 4” times in our lives.  The gym or bigger clothes are our only options.

And to be perfectly honest, I was uncomfortable at first.  The outfit was borrowed but I was still the most naked of my group.  (In fact, the lady I borrowed the outfit from was fully covered this year.  That’s just not fair.)  I wasn’t ready to be judged the way I judge.  But some vampire vodka, supportive friends, and realization that I would probably never see any of the people who might judge me again helped me get over it.  Bare the abs, fishnet the legs, zip up the boots, gloss the lips and straighten the wig, I’m ready to go.

Blushing after a car full of men yelled “Captain Jack Sparrow”.  Thanks, guys.  Thanks.

Jo’van

 

Fishnet Bar Battlewounds

Bar Battlewounds

I’ve already picked my outfit for next year.  As long as I get my legs in shape, I’ll be in search of a crazy blond wig, a dress with more fringe than length and Hanes stockings.  Tina Turner here I come!

November 19, 2009
Categories: Quarterlife Crisis, Whole Truth, The . Tags: , , , , , , , , . Author: tjovand . Comments: 3 Comments

Friendly Drama: In Search of Platonic Male Friends

I couldn’t find a song to address the topic of my post so I settled on some high-energy, neon-colored, baggy, condom-as-accessories wearing TLC circa 1993. “What About Your Friends”

Vodpod videos no longer available.

I’ve spent the past few days with my family in Phoenix.  My younger sisters are still technically teenagers and have high school friends in and out of the house all the time.  While school shopping, my youngest sister continued to run into friends.  Oh, youth.  I was told that at 25 I’m old by a 17-year-old.  While I personally disagree, I wanted to quickly leave the situation.  I have no desire to go back to high school but still… Aside from feeling a little old and nostalgic as one sister starts her senior year of high school and the other gears up to move to California for college, I miss having friends that you were tied to by nothing more than sharing a class.

Junior high, high school, even college, aside from flirting and fighting, you were surrounded by people your own age with nothing else to do but figure out something together.  A friend recently made the point that that’s why so many people find their mates in college.  Four years in a small area with thousands of people within three years of your age.  The odds have to be in your favor.  Graduating and entering the real world, you lose that easy access to potential friends with more things in common than working in the same office, living in the same apartment complex or going to the same gym.  Sure, a campus atmosphere may help to foster romantic relationships but it also allows for easy access to platonic relationships.

As an adult in the real world (granted my real world is limited), I find it much more difficult to foster relationships that are genuine.  I’ve been lucky to make friends with the people I’ve worked with.  However, as I move onto the next professional endeavour (whatever it is), I wonder if my next office/store will have people of similar age, interest and personality.  Will I become the “young, unmarried” one in the office?  What then?

Another thing I’ve realized about being an “adult” is the minimal purely platonic interaction with the opposite sex.  Any single, straight man that I am cordial with now is tied to some aspect of work or is someone else’s friend (usually from high school or college).  Gone seem to be the days of just hanging out with friends who happen to be male.  Without the platonic common ground to start the conversation, most of my interactions with the opposite sex are under the guise of flirting.  Sure, that can be fun but once one of you realizes there’s no spark, it’s often difficult to establish a friendship when there hadn’t been one to begin with.

I miss guy friends, the male perspectives, the big brothers, the ridiculous little brothers.  I miss laughing at the stupid comments, complete inability to dress, or snap judgements of the opposite sex.  I miss watching football, or grilling, or sitting around in whatever was the closest and cleanest.  I like men.  I mean I love them and are attracted to them and all.  But I also just really love being around men.  Because I’m pretty high-maintenance and catty, I don’t particularly care to be around women all of the time.  Sometimes I need a break from talking about weight, hair, relationships (real and completely in our heads), clothes, shoes.  I’m not saying that women as a whole or my friends are shallow (or my male friends for that matter are all that deep).  We discuss whatever comes to mind with few filters.  It’s just that what comes to my mind around women and men is usually different.  I miss being able to explore that other side every now and again.  Sometimes I’d just rather be in the company of people who are not going to over-analyze more than I have.  Rather than offer alternative suggestions, I get straight answers.

At my age, it seems I should be (and am) concerned with finding my next romantic relationship.  However, sometimes/most times I wouldn’t mind just hanging out with a male friend without the quotation marks or hope of something different.

In search of her new platonic beau,

Jo’van

August 10, 2009
Categories: Friendly Drama (The Ones You Choose), Whole Truth, The . Tags: , , , , , , , . Author: tjovand . Comments: 4 Comments

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