It's official

This has been a difficult blog post to write. After three weeks of deliberation and two weeks of drafts on this post, I've decided to leave to San Francisco. There are so many things about this city that I love, I am very sad to leave it. It's a culturally vibrant, cosmopolitan city with liberal sensibilities, incredible food and a kick-ass public transit system. Masses of people commute by bicycle. On every doorstep there are plants in pots: exotic flowers, fruit trees, vegetables and even grapevines!


I remember a friend of mine who bought a house in Silverlake, Los Angeles, and within a few days, the potted plants she put on her porch were stolen. In San Francisco, the streets are clean, Europeans love to visit it, the air is fresh and it's surrounded by the ocean, a bay, mountains and redwood forests. Yes, I will miss it. I will miss my local farmer's market, walking to visit my friend Sharon in Hayes Valley, eating amazing food in little hole-in-the-wall restaurants like the vegetarian Japanese place Cha-Ya, getting to museums downtown in twenty minutes on the BART, picking up my freshly roasted and freshly ground coffee at Ritual Coffee and the cute boys who ride by on bicycles. The only things I won't miss are the fire trucks that scream by my apartment five times a day and freezing year-round.


A year ago, when I left L.A., I was contemplating the same decision I'm making now. I was unemployed and looking for a job. I didn't want any of the jobs I was qualified for and didn't even want most the ones I wasn't qualified for. I wondered what was wrong with me. Was I afraid? Lazy? Unambitious? The fact is, I had stopped pursuing acting, something I spent five years on, but didn't really have the opportunity to figure out what was next. What was next? Now, a year later, I'm fighting the same problem. I've been out of work for over three months. I've applied for jobs, I've worked my contacts, I've finessed the resume, I've gone to interviews and prepared presentations but still at the end of the day, I know that I'm not working very hard for it. I don't REALLY want these jobs and more and more I feel my life slipping away.

If I have a job, it's not that difficult to keep on keepin' on and just do the job. In fact, I care about my work, I enjoy work and I don't have a problem getting up and going but being out of work suddenly challenges me. Devoting a day to pursuing a job I don't want is ten times more difficult than just doing the job I don't want. Instead my interests have taken over and I've found the bulk of my time being spent planting a garden, taking photos, making a music video with a collaborator, making a video for Amnesty International, writing copy and developing strategy for a non-profit, volunteering for Taproot, uploading my video clips to YouTube and watching documentaries on Netflix. It turns out, I enjoy marketing much more when I'm volunteering my time. Why? Because it's my time to give, no one owns me.

I know that I am one of the privileged of the world, a person who has choices. Even when I've felt myself under stress, confused and sometimes depressed, I still know that I am happier, more optimistic and more capable than so many other people. At times, I have let the guilt of wanting more keep me from being what I want, from doing what I want. It has always been easy for me to say what I don't want. Maybe it's a because my father was controlling but I could always say "no": quit, leave, break up and take off, anytime. Embarking on a path towards doing something though, saying "yes" has always been extremely difficult. So that's where I am now. It's not the leaving that I'm afraid of, it's what comes after.

The truth is, I'm afraid. Afraid of not knowing what I want, afraid of failing to achieve what I want, afraid of disappointing the people I love, afraid of wasting my life. It's taken me several years to come to this decision, a decision to figure out what's next. What can I put my heart towards that will sustain me, financially and emotionally? That is the question I am embarking on a journey to answer. For the time being, I will move in with my mom. I'll stay with her as long as I need to find my path, launch a business, make a film, write a script or whatever it is I'm meant to do. I will reconcile myself to the fact that I'll be living at home with mom when I got to my 20th high school reunion later this year. I have to let go of my pride, banish fear and embrace my own potential. That journey begins now.

I just finished watching the first season of Mad Men and there's a great quote by Peggy, the secretary who finds herself taking on a career as a copywriter, something unheard for a woman in the ad world. She's on a date with a boy from "back home" and when he snips that "those people" in Manhattan aren't better than us she says: “Those people in Manhattan? “They are better than us. They want things they haven’t seen.”

Shame on me

I was out the other night with some friends of my good friend here in the city. They were all serious web geeks, information architects and visual designers, from the biggest dot coms in the area: Yahoo!, Flickr, Digg and Google. One guy said he’d met another one through their blogs ten years ago. (I asked to make sure, "you had a blog in 1998?!") There wasn’t cell phone reception outside the bar and they were all cringing, “My SMS isn’t working!” “I can’t Twitter!” One guy even remarked that he needed to find more offline interests and activities. Much of the conversations tended towards new Google applications, LOL cats and other blogs and websites.

It was during one of these conversations that I learned that it’s not considered kosher in the blogosphere to change your entries once they’re posted. I was saying that some of my readers subscribe by email and often I change it several times after the initial post, usually just to fix typos, change words when I realize I’ve used the same one three times in a row, or clarify confusing bits. I need to see it in formatting and read it several times to catch some of those things but the people getting it by email are getting a different version than what ends up on the site. Once or twice, though, I’ve modified the actual content, even changed my opinion, after getting comments from a reader. This apparently, is really frowned upon. There are actually people who compare side-by-side versions and call bloggers out on their undisclosed changes (I always wondered what those strikethroughs were all about, oops!)

I talked to one of the Flickr guys about all the photos on Flickr that are so stylized with in camera or post effects, available in the digital world. If you look up San Francisco, I said, you get a slew of gorgeous artistic photos that don’t actually look like San Francisco. It didn't bother him. He shrugged, said something about "reality" and started looking for a new conversation. Here I am arguing that I want more reality in people’s photos and he’s telling me that it’s important to maintain the “original” integrity of my blog posts. Maybe it’s because I don’t have that many readers that I assume no one would ever notice or care if I keep finessing my posts but I suppose most people consider a blog to be a conversation rather than a collection of essays. It would be like going back and changing your side of a conversation, something I would love to be able to do.

Here's my confession: I feel ashamed and embarrassed and regret 75-90% of what I say after spending time with people I don't know. (The percentage is much lower with friends, maybe 40-60%). This is not only one of my biggest problems but is also what I worry about most when writing the blog: that I can’t change my opinion, I might misspeak or someone might not like what I’ve said. Maybe the blog is here to teach me to express myself without regret. As much as I think the “rules” are a bit ridiculous, it just might be in my best interest to follow them.

I recently started blogging for a site other than my own, What Gives?!, and I've realized that those entries are just not as personal and provocative, so I have no feelings of regret about what I've written. It is helping to illuminate what exactly it is that am shameful about: my opinion and my experiences. Ugh, well, at least blogging isn't killing me.

Scared stupid

Even though I started working part time a month ago, I have done very little in the way of finding a job. Looking for a job is probably the most depressing thing I ever have to do. I will literally do anything to avoid it. The biggest problem is the jobs themselves, they all sound dreadful and not like something I would ever want to do for any amount of money. Then comes the dreadful realization that I have to do one of these god awful jobs if I expect to continue making delicious vegetables from the Farmer’s Market and sitting on my down-filled couch to watch my Netflix movies, and traveling to see my friends and family and buying new music and sleeping in my comfortable bed. Basically everything hinges on money coming into my bank account, which isn’t happening at the moment.

Working is easy. Getting up, putting on clothes and going to a job is a piece of cake. And honestly, I’ve never had a job that I thought was difficult. Stressful at times, perhaps, because people are involved. Politics, egos and emotions are hard to deal with, not work. But looking for a job is a whole different story. I don’t like talking about myself, I don’t like selling myself, and honestly I think my resume is a sad reduction of my potential as a worker and human being. Certainly I’m capable of much more than that piece of paper can explain. Usually the jobs are so reductive that it isn’t an issue, until now.

Tomorrow I go to interview for a company that, and I’ve never used these words to describe a company before, is unbelievably cool and awesome. They innovate, they solve problems, they come up with ideas and they produce them. They’re interested in what I’m interested in: how to make things better, why people do what they do, what people want, how to fix things that should be easy to fix, making life better. My first interview was over the phone and I all I did to prepare was look at their website. I took it at work on a conference phone and just winged it. I must have done well because they want me in person, but I literally had no idea the company I was interviewing with. I even referenced their fact sheet that I printed from their website, as if I had done my homework!

Now I’m completely freaked out. I feel like I just got lucky on the first interview. Everything I said on the call was in line with their company philosophies because I naturally am aligned with this company. I didn’t have any prepared answers and yet my responses were so right on, it must have seemed like I prepared them. Halfway through the call the ladies started asking what I liked to do for fun. I don’t think I’ve ever been asked that in an interview and I had no idea what to say. I stuttered and muttered and said something about being a geek and going to panels on environmental sustainability. Clearly, that does not accurately describe my fun time. But it made me realize they were looking at me as a person, not just a worker.

I have sat at my computer for the last two days trying to think of a way to put a cool presentation together, something that summarizes my experience or maybe some ideas for their company. Everyone must want to work here, and they must have a dozen or more super qualified and excited candidates. How can I make myself stand out? I’m literally frozen with fear and haven’t done anything. All the work I’ve done at other jobs seems so lame, most of it is lame, so how do I crow about it? After more than ten years in this business, I still feel like I’m waiting for my chance to shine. Self-help books always say if you're afraid, you're probably going in the right direction. Well I'm terrified, so maybe this is it.

Here's an example of what they design:


This company employs experts and thought leaders, TED types. I feel like a wanna be, a groupie in the presence of the greatest band ever. Why aren't I someone? Why aren't I an expert? I've been out of college for over a decade and feel like all I've done is grow my interests and potential. So much potential. So many interests! But where are my accomplishments? Why is it that I feel so unfinished, like I haven't even started taking shape yet?

Not a thrill seeker, just living with fear.

Reading Seth Godin's book "The Purple Cow" made me realize that the company I was working at accepted that their product was mediocre and it would never be remarkable. It's what made it possible for me leave. I didn't give up, I just got wise. I spent eleven long months trying to make it better, trying to inspire others to make it better. All I did was open their eyes to the madness and now they're either miserable that I've left or they've left with me.

Seth Godin, in his blog, describes people as thrill seekers or fear avoiders. I start my new job on Monday and although it's not exactly what I want and it's not exactly the biggest stretch, there are things I don't know and obvious challenges ahead. I am afraid. I wouldn't categorize myself as a thrill seeker and yet I'm clearly not a fear avoider. I CHOSE FEAR. I'm someone who lives with fear and merely aspires to be a thrill seeker.

I need to be challenged and dream of working with people who are smarter than me and yet I live in fear of actually finding that situation. This might be it! (But it probably isn't. Come to think of it, I was afraid starting work at the last company and that turned out not even to be a real company.) So what am I afraid of? Someone finding out that I'm not as smart as I think I am.

Maybe I am a thrill seeker!