Road Warrior: the hoedown

Our team got into Philly and drove two hours through rush hour, to arrive at what we thought was our hotel, exhausted and ready for a relaxing night.  But it was the wrong Holiday Inn.  So was the next Holiday Inn we tried.  It turned out that OUR Holiday Inn was at least 20 minutes outside the city (in BFE, PA).  Foiled by Priceline... again. 

We finally arrived at our location and walked into a rundown lobby, with carpet from 1984 and a surly receptionist.  Tired and a bit slap-happy after a couple margaritas with the client, I noticed the "Manager on Duty" plaque and immediately burst out laughing.  Mr. Daniel Morningwake? The hotel manager's name is Morningwake?!?  That's incredible.  My coworkers looked over and immediately started laughing too.  That's like having a dentist named Dr. Tooth.  You can't make that shit up.  The receptionist stared at us blankly, mouthing "Morningwake" to herself a couple times and shaking her head simultaneously.  She finally looked up at us, made a face that clearly said "I don't get it" and gave us our room keys.  Welcome to the Holiday Inn Grantville, PA.

We proceeded to our rooms to discover the most uncomfortable beds in the universe, but at that point, it didn't matter.  I was wiped.  They say going from west to east is easier with the time change, but I actually think it's worse.  There is no excuse to be falling asleep at the dinner table at 9 pm because on your time, it's really 7 pm, but that trick never seems to work for me.  Knowing I shouldn't be tired makes me more tired.  Anyway, we woke up the next morning to decent Pennsylvania weather that proved amazing compared to the foot of snow Denver was slated to get that day.  Our client-filled day went incredibly well and our team was in high spirits come 4 o'clock.  The client's suggestion of spending a couple hours at Hershey Park in Hershey, PA was the perfect end to a good day and the beginning of a night like none other.

We were kids in a candy shop.  Literally.  After the Chocolate Tour (with singing cows!), we could not get to the candy room fast enough to voraciously swipe our debit cards and shovel the treats into our mouths.  Whatever type of subliminal messaging was being used in that tour... it worked.  Between the milkshakes, cookies, T-shirts and chocolate bars, it was only a matter of minutes before we were fat, dumb and happy, snapping pictures with the Hershey bars and enjoying the bliss of the sugar high before the nausea set in.

We continued the night of decadence with an incredible dinner (which included fabulous wine and lobster mac and cheese) and over-the-top witty banter.  The indulgence and laughter left everyone with side cramps as we hobbled to our cars.  Team Holiday Inn BFE loaded into the Santa Fe to begin the trek back to our hotel.  When we pulled in, one of my coworkers suggested a nightcap at The Saloon - the hotel bar.  We agreed and figured The Saloon would have a total of about three patrons, who, collectively, would have 7 teeth.  Au contraire.


The place was packed - not a seat to be had.  Not only that, it was HUGE, which was surprising because it was very unassuming from the front.  Clearly, The Saloon was the reason Holiday Inn BFE stayed in business because it certainly wasn't the comfort of the beds or the politeness of the staff.  Wide-eyed and jaws gaping, we turned the corner to find a stage with a live band and a massive dance floor filled with line-dancers.  It was incredible.  We somehow found a table on the other side of bar and ordered $2 beers.  I had never seen line-dancing before, at least not up close like this.  Holy cow,  that is some impressive stuff.  There's a different dance for every song (or, as Beans adamantly argued, a different song for every dance), and they all knew all the steps.  People partnered with anyone and everyone - couples of all different shapes, sizes and ages, everyone smiling and laughing and having a grand old time.  It was like nothing I had ever seen, and it totally put the electric slide to shame.  I've never been in the presence of so much dancing and sat so idly on the sidelines watching in awe.  It was a new experience for me.  And the band... they rocked.  One beer easily turned into three and nine o'clock slipped away to midnight before we reminded ourselves that we had meetings in the morning and a long trip back to Denver.  I was sad to call it a night, but amazed at what an incredible night it had turned out to be.

Priceline, thank you.  I owe you an apology and perhaps an extra $50 a night. #chillinattheholidayinn

Finding out your crappy hotel is home to the greatest hoedown this side of the Mississippi (or Ohio?) River.  AWESOME.

truth in educating

For awhile now, I've been comparing the student loan crisis to mortgage crisis and calling for some form of "truth in lending" practices when it comes to student loans.  I feel like I'm a pretty good snapshot of the American public - they just announced that student loan debt now exceed credit card debt in the U.S.  This has been true for me for years.  I can't decide if that should make me feel good about my credit card debt or feel terrible about my loans.  But considering no one should ever feel good about credit card debt, I should probably go with the latter.  Besides, I blame the latter for the former.  That's probably not good either.

Anyway, the newest news (is that redundant?) is that student loan debt now exceeds $1 Trillion in the United States.  One. Trillion. Dollars.  And no one is paying it back.  That's the stick.  I think we need to start focusing on the stick.  No one is actually paying these loans back.  And while some people are living for free in brownstones, most of us are just doing the best we can with what we've got.  And the best we can doesn't include an extra $1000 to throw at student loans.  I mean, the chocolate lab needs to eat, people (NOT to be confused with "the chocolate lab needs to eat people."  That would be terrible).

I digress.  The reason I sat down to write was because USA Today published a good article yesterday:  Lairs, Liars Pants on Fires (or whatever the plural would be).  My coworker pointed out the real title as some guy was reading the article on the plane yesterday, and I knew I had to write about it.

The reality is - people need to know the truth about law school - the lack of post-education jobs, the low salaries, the DEBT.  If, after all that, people are still going to law school and are somehow thinking they'll be "different" (translation: they'll actually come out of law with a job they like that can pay the ginormous bill of law debt), then they have no one to blame but themselves.

and now the stick

Student Loan Bailout.  This is brilliant.   And it just might be crazy enough to work.

It appears I never actually published this post... so I will publish it now because I have nothing more to say.

a fresh perspective

The other night, it was late... very late, and I was still at the office with a deadline.  There are a few important things to note with this, however:  (1) I had a deadline because I was the one who created the deadline, (2) my dog was at the office with me, and (3) I was thoroughly enjoying what I was working on.  None of these things would have happened in law.  It would have been a late night because of someone else's (probably pointless) deadline, and I would have been doing work I hated with no trusty chocolate lab sidekick.  The other positive: I was there with my new AWESOME coworker, who is basically the beans to my rice.

At 11:30 pm or so, just as the wheels were starting to come off and columns were blending into rows, Beans decided we needed a 5 minute breather and sent me the website 1000 Awesome Things.  Go there.  See if you can read it for just 2 minutes.  You can't.  It's smart, funny, and most importantly, it's a really AWESOME perspective on everyday things that we take for granted.  The guy who writes this blog must be so happy, and I found myself saying, "Yeah!  TOTALLY!!" about every three posts.

We've decided to start writing down our Awesome Things.  As Tim would say, "It's important to make the invisible, visible."  Something about actually writing out a great thing when it happens makes it officially "Awesome."

So here's my first:  Bringing tomato soup to work for lunch and finding out there's a huge box of Goldfish in the office.  AWESOME.

Hiatus-itis

“The condition of being on haitus.”  And I’m so guilty.  Blog hiatus-itis.

I’ve been home in Wisco for an awesome weekend with family, friends and Bucky.  I’m on my way back to Denver now, happy to have a window seat but unhappy that Alterra’s espresso machine was broken (even if I was going for just decaf).  I almost deleted “home” from the first sentence when I realized I needed to also use “home” for Denver.  I guess what I wanted to say is: “I was home in Wisco, and now I’m heading home to Denver.”  If home is where the heart is, then both places are home.

Blog Train

A lot has happened in the last few weeks, and I’ve found myself on a bit of a professional emotional rollercoaster.  If you’re interested in receiving the chronological update, then scroll down a few entries and start with Tim leaving (“little holes of light”).  There’s no time like air time to catch up on my blog.

A huge thanks to Beck for (unbeknownst to her) giving me a swift kick in the butt to get back on the blog train.  Thanks Beck!

little holes of light

Ugh. 

Tim isn’t sticking around.  I’m so, so bummed out.  I knew he was making his decision this week about whether or not to accept our company’s offer to come on board as our COO and continue the magic, but I never really considered the possibility that he would say no.  But he did - He didn’t pick us, and as ridiculous as it is, I feel like the kid whose parent can’t make it to the championship game.  What do you mean you’re not going to be there?  You HAVE to be there. 

 

I don’t want to sound like Tim was cavalier about his decision because, honestly, he was anything but.  It was very clear that this had been an agonizing choice for him and he was as bummed out about it as I was.  And boy, am I bummed.

I’m going to try to put words to how I’m feeling because the immediate response of those close to me indicates that people don’t really understand why I’m so upset.  With the exception of one (who also gets other ridiculous things about me when no one else seems to), most of my friends and family have responded with something to the effect of “Oh that’s a shame.  I know you really liked him.”  No, people, you don’t get it.  It’s more than really liking him.  He is brilliant (If I could comfortably cuss in this blog, I would add a modifier to that). 

I learned more from Tim in the two months he was on board than I did working for anyone ever.  Yes, I tend to speak in superlatives and occasionally exaggerate, but in this instance – that’s the honest truth.  People learn in very different ways, and people teach in very different days.  I learn in the way Tim teaches, and I didn’t even know it until I met him.

And you probably want to know how… and I don’t know that I can adequately describe it.  Perhaps if I tell a story or two from Tim, you might start to get it.  One afternoon, after a project status meeting that brought a few “issues” to light, I was sitting around the table with Tim and one of the founders of the company discussing our next course of action.  The founder and I are a lot alike.  We like to do more than we like to talk about it.  We like to make a decision, and then act.  Tim was urging us to flush out a Plan B option, but both the founder and I were adamant our Plan A option would work just fine, and we wanted to get to work immediately implementing Plan A.  We didn’t have time to discuss a Plan B.  So Tim nonchalantly began to tell us a story…

I don’t know if you’ve ever been on a helicopter (Actually, no – he didn’t start that way.  That would be a bit elitist, and whether intended or not, it sounds condescending.  He would never start that way). 

Helicopters are incredibly noisy.  When you’re on one, you have to wear these noise canceling headphone things, and they really work.  You can’t hear a thing.  I was on a helicopter in the military, and I was standing next to my commanding officer, and I was… well – I don’t know what my rank was, but I was a minion.  Anyway, we were coming into the beach, when we began seeing little holes of light in the side of the helicopter.  And it was the strangest thing because we couldn’t hear anything, but we were being shot at.  Then, as I was looking at the holes trying to make sense of what was happening, there was red everywhere.  He [the commanding officer] was dead.  And now I was in charge.  That’s why you always want to have a Plan B.

I am really, really going to miss working with him.     

the mug

I'm in Chicago this weekend for the Chicago Marathon on Sunday.  I am so excited to get away for the weekend and be surrounded by friends and family.  The perfect weather is also a plus.  It's been a typical taper for me - I feel like I've gained 25 pounds and I'm incredibly emotional (for some legitimate and some not-so-legitimate reasons).  "Taper Madness" has always been a struggle for me, and I spend the couple weeks leading up to a race not feeling like myself and acting somewhat irrational.  Naturally, it's been a tough couple of weeks, even without factoring in lack of endorphins, the no running and other taper madness symptoms I've been experiencing.

So, needless to say, I'm so happy to finally be here, with the race just around the corner.   I'm staying with a couple of my best friends in the world (who are married to each other) right in the heart of the city.  You can blame the tapering, last night's late night arrival (after a very delayed flight) or just the fact that we've grown up, but there's a certain nostalgia about being here with them.  On the one hand, it feels like nothing's changed.  It's just like when we were living together in law school - the coffee is right where it should be; I know what beer I'm going to find in the fridge; and we can still make amazing meals with leftovers.  But on the other hand, everything's changed.  We're not in law school anymore, and my friends have gotten married, got a dog of their own and moved halfway across the country.  I remember 6 months ago, the night before they moved to Chicago and the marking of the end of an era, how heavy everything felt - how I thought nothing would never be the same.

As I poured myself a cup of coffee in the same mug I used to use 5 years ago in our apartment on Clarkson Street, the sadness I felt six months ago suddenly felt really far away.  Everything felt like it should, and I was struck by how true it is that the more things change, the more they stay the same.  While I'm counting the months until they move back to Colorado, I'm amazed at how the bond of a great friendship laughs in the face of distance. 

We're all under the same roof again and drinking beer at one in the afternoon.  See, nothing's really changed after all.