Life. Don't talk to me about life.

Life has suddenly become real again. As I embarked on a new career, everything seemed perfect. My spouse found a wonderful new job, I had a fabulous boss, and we bought a Wii.

Over the last few days, however, life is no longer the picture perfect image I always dreamed I would have. Don't get me wrong...my spouse still has a wonderful job, my boss is still fabulous, and our Wii works just fine. The problem is with life itself.

Two dear friends have decided to part ways. I struggle with what that means for our Friday night gatherings. I struggle to imagine either of them without the other. I struggle with what to say to one who is happy and the other who is not.

My marriage is strong and I am head over heels in love. Everyday we laugh together. But I can't help but wonder about our relationship. If we ever decided to split up, who would move out? Who would be the one who was not happy? I often joke that I would move in with his mother because we have such a good relationship. He often jokes that he would stalk me because he couldn't live without me. Are these just jokes we say out loud to protect ourselves from the insecurities we have inside?

School...

This week has been...what's the word?...interesting.

First, I am officially down to two weeks of undergrad classes. This trek to get a piece of paper has taken 15 years, involved 5 schools, and covered 4 states. I apologize for the lack of posts, but I'm exhausted.

Now to the interesting part of my week. So, I'm hanging out in my office (cube) and I get an e-mail that a visitor from our sister company will be hanging out in the *real* office near my cube. I'm still new and I want to build some credibility so I introduce myself to this Senior HR person. We start talking about where he's from (Nashville) and where he grew up (Memphis) and it turns out that we went to the same freaking elementary school together. Cue Twilight Zone music. He was three years ahead of me so I didn't know him, but you better believe I pulled out my yearbooks to check it out!

Later that same day, I am checking Facebook (I am an addict) and I have a friend request...from my friend from elementary school! Not exactly sure how she found me, but WOW! Two people in one day...bizzare for sure.

To further emphasize how long it's been since I was at Ross Elementary, or any other school in Memphis, I received an invitation for my 15 year high school reunion.

This got me thinking about school and what I learned or didn't learn. As I was digging up my yearbooks, I decided I would document some memorable moments in my young educational career. My highlights are based on which yearbooks I still have, so please don't think that this is all I learned...



First grade: I don't remember anything. I just think it is funny that in my yearbook I wrote my own name above my picture. I also think it's funny that my hair has wings. (hehee wings - have a happy period.)










Sixth grade: This may be the first year that I was truly called a tomboy. In fact, I am pretty sure that this picture was taken after a rousing game of kickball on the field behind the school.


The only thing that I remember about sixth grade is that girls never got picked first in gym class and Steal the Bacon is the best game in the world.





Ninth grade: I have no excuse for that shirt. All I can imagine is that my tomboy tendencies never ceased. At least I brushed my hair.

This was my first year in a school where I didn't know anyone. Totally awesome.






Tenth grade: No comment about the outfit or the haircut.

Lots of firsts this year. First job. First D in a class (I still hate history). First time I well-you-know. (Sorry you had to find out like this, Dad, but surely you knew.)








Eleventh grade: Boo for SATs! Boo for college applications! Boo for no driver's license! Hooray for $4.25 an hour!







Senior year: My last year of high school is a blur. I mostly remember working in the mall, hanging out with J** and M**, and planning what my life would be like when I grew up.



I'm glad my plans failed.

For Better or Worse

I have experienced many firsts over the last two weeks and this seems the perfect platform to share.

• June 15 - First time I used the gym in about a year. Don't judge.
• June 15 - Also the first time I took a shower at work. Awkward!
• June 17 - First day I wore jeans to work.
• June 21 - First anniversary. Yummy Bonefish for dinner!
• June 24 - First custom computer built for me.

Perhaps the best (or worst) first for me was that I discovered the first reason why marriage kinda sucks.

Here is a picture of my hand. Notice that weird black thing on my finger? Disgusting, isn't it? Well it feels gross, too. Still wondering what it is? It is a blood blister!! You may not be able to tell, but there are actually two of them.

Your next question is probably, how did you get them? And the answer resides in the best (or worst) first reason why marriage kinda sucks.

Today, my company held its annual summer picnic. We had a fun time playing mini-golf, hitting balls on the driving range, and pigging out. As we were leaving, I suggested we try the batting cages. After all, it's free!

We go to the wimpy one with the 18mph softball. It was broken, so we had to do the 45mph baseball. No biggie, right? Wrong. I wasn't paying attention to the sign and it turns out that the cage was calibrated for little league players. So even though I am short, every pitch was way to low. And after 10 pitches and 9 misses (I managed to hit one with the side of my hand and ripped my thumb nail), I ended up with two blood blisters from my wedding ring. I wonder if I can claim worker's comp...

My face hurts

I never thought I would be able to say "I love my job" about another company, but after one week at my new company, I can.

If you will indulge me for a few minutes, I will recap the top 10 reasons that I love my new job:

10. I have 24 hour access to a gym. The gym is not a cheesy hotel gym, but a huge space with machines, free weights, and Direct TV everywhere.

9. Every morning at 8AM Dunkin Donuts delivers donuts, bagels, and muffins to our cafeteria. We are on the honor system and pay 50 cents for each.

8. We can order our lunch online from Apple Spice Junction. The money is directly debited from our paycheck.

7. My co-workers wear snuggies at their cubicles when they get cold.

6. The entire HR department celebrates each person's b-day by ordering a cake of the person's choice. This week, I had a Strawberry Passion cake from Cold Stone Creamery and a giant chocolate chip cookie from Mrs. Field's.

5. Business casual is the norm. People can wear jeans and sneakers if they want to during the week, and everyone does on Friday. (I felt overdressed in my Crocs.)

4. We have summer hours, which means that every week until Labor Day, we are encouraged to take a half day off - morning or afternoon of any day during the week.

3. I don't have a specific start or end time. My colleagues and I are truly measured by objectives. Many people work from home, including a colleague who lives in Oregon and my boss who lives in Cleveland. (This means that if C and I move out of state, I won't need to quit my job!)

2. The Director of HR greeted me on the first day of work with a hug and said, "Nikol! I'm so glad you said yes!"

1 1/2. I went to the ASTD conference in DC. Every year, the entire department attends a conference some where in the US.

1. I can and will make a difference.

My face hurts from smiling so much.

A new leaf

Just a quick note about my little blog. You probably noticed a visual change. (And remember, change is good.) Since I am no longer unemployed (woot!), I thought it would be silly to continue writing about my adventures with unemployment. Instead, this blog will be all about my favorite subject - me.


And to keep you entertained, please take a peek at the following video.

Stay classy Provident Bank

It's been over a week since I have seen my colleagues, or ex-colleagues and I find it interesting that I am feeling such a sense of loss. As most of you know, I worked in a satellite office where I would go for weeks without seeing or talking to some of my colleagues. Yet, now I have an undeniable craving for the camaraderie that we shared during our last few months together.

I have had the entire week to reflect on what my experience at Provident Bank has meant to me. I have been promising this post for weeks and I am just now finding the words that I want to share with my ex-colleagues, my friends, and the world.

My experience at Provident has been filled with hope, disappointment, frustration, excitement, but most of all growth. Provident will always be the place where I grew up. I have learned so much about myself at this organization. I learned how to be patient (although my husband may disagree). I learned how to be flexible. I learned how to be a professional.

In a recent Creative Writing class, I had to write about a "strange place." Instead of writing about a physical place, I wrote about the strange emotions I felt over the last six months - from the announcement of the buyout to the pending loss of my job, and the not-so-subtle hope that the acquisition wouldn't commence. As therapeutic as that activity was, I realized that so much of who I am was dependent on what I did.

I don't know when I became one of those people who always asks, "What do you do for work?" before asking, "What do you do for fun?" This past week has allowed me some time to explore my history - how did I become that person? And the answer is simple: I love my job, therefore, everyone else must love theirs, too.

Provident Bank, my colleagues, my friends, taught me that. They taught me to love my job, to love my profession, and to love who I am. Thank you.

**Lesson learned: I will always be a Provident employee.

It's not you, it's me

As you know, I have been searching fruitlessly for a new job. Finally, over the last few weeks, I have been called, interviewed, and background checked by two different companies. I was fortunate enough to have two offers on the table. After a few days days of back and forth, I opted to take the job with more flexibility, autonomy, and exciting domestic travel. I'll soon be seeing the sights of Montana, South Dakota, Oregon, Mississippi, Florida, Pennsylvania, and Arkansas. (Trust me, Arkansas is a lot prettier than you think!)

I made my final decision on Friday afternoon and I realized that I also needed to turn down the other position. Before making the call, I rehearsed. I thought about what I would say, and I decided to thank the recruiter for renegotiating my salary for a $10k increase, for getting me in to see the head of the department, and for being willing to talk to me even though I never applied to her company. (My professor pushed my resume to them.)

I dialed the number and hung up before I finished. Why did this seem so much like breaking up with someone?

I have had my fair share of break-ups and as surprising as it may seem, I have been on the receiving side. I was given the generic lame lines, "We're in different places...This isn't working...It's not you, it's me." The last one actually made me laugh out loud during the conversation. Why do people even bother saying that anymore? We all know it really is you.

Considering the above, I forced myself to be thankful (which I was) and to be confident (which I wasn't). For those of you who really know me, you know that I don't like to disappoint people; even people I don't know. So I tried to think of something that would be gentle enough to say thanks, but no thanks. In other words, I needed to say, "It's not you, it's me" (but we both know it's you).

I prepared and dialed. After six rings, her voicemail picked up. My speech was smooth, confident, and genuine. Two hours later, she called me back. I stumbled over my words when I gave the reason that I wouldn't be taking the job. I settled on, "The other opportunity at the other organization is better aligned with my personal objectives."

Suddenly, a genius idea popped into my head. I quickly described my colleagues and their pursuit of the perfect job. Even though we couldn't see each other, I was sure there was saliva dripping from lips. She immediately wanted their names, but I refused. Instead my colleagues have her name and three have reached out to her.

In the end, all was well. She left the door open for me and I opened it for my colleagues. I hope everyone is able to find what they're looking for, because the truth is that a career should be relationship where you can state the true reasons for a break-up.

** Lesson learned: Stop lying - it really is you.

Don't call me Peter Petrelli

I recently took a Facebook quiz (insert groan here) and discovered that the answer to the burning question, "Which Heroes character are you?" is Peter Petrelli. Initially I scoffed at this notion - I am not full of mid-20's angst! However, upon further reflection (which is all I seem to do these days), I realized that Yes, perhaps I am like Peter Petrelli. Not the angst part, but the empathy part.

When I was a little girl, my mother was fascinated by my ability to mimic her emotions. To prove this point to my father, she sat me down on the floor (I was around 4 years old) and pretended to cry. I immediately started to cry also. This sticks in my memory as the beginning of my co-crying existence.

I am one of those saps who cries at nearly anything - the 90 second Hallmark commercials, the predictable chick flicks, etc. If it is remotely sad or uplifting, I get teary. Just recently I got that fluttery feeling while watching a Gatorade commercial. Gatorade, people!

For those of you who think that co-crying is lame, I agree! I am sometimes irritated by the betrayal of my tear ducts. I am angered that I can't control my body. Then I remind myself that many people have this "disorder" only it isn't a reaction to crying. Perhaps it's a reaction to vomiting. Have you ever gagged when you watched someone vomit? Yeah, same thing for me, except with tears.

You're probably wondering what this has to do with me looking for a job. Well, here it is - I'm sad. And I'm probably going to shed a tear or two (or five or twenty) over the next few weeks. In fact, it has already started.

Last week I facilitated an abbreviated workshop about Change Management. At the end of the presentation, I looked all 26 people in the eye and said something along the lines of this, "As some of you know, I was not offered a job with ***. I want you all to know that it has been a pleasure working with each of you. I have enjoyed your participation and your humor through the years. All of you are the reason that I love my job. Thank you and good luck."

So what do these people decide to do? They give me a freaking standing ovation. Jerks. I completely started to well up! And to make matters worse, I couldn't just politely exit stage left. I had to wait for the Senior Manager to make some gracious comments, shake my hand, and then give me a hug. Oh, the horror.

Three days later, I get a 4 paragraph e-mail from a person at the meeting thanking me for everything, telling me that I am his favorite trainer, etc. And guess what I did when I read it? Yep, you got it. Tears - 2, Nikol - 0.

*** Lesson learned: The mind really does control the body.

Talking in the dark

When I started this blog, my intention was to express my feelings about pending unemployment in a non-verbal way. I chose this medium because I can drone on and on, but also because I don't have to talk to anyone. Not that I am anti-social, but I might get emotional (See previous blog post) and I don't have time for that crap.

As May 22 approaches, I can't help but reflect on the new skills I still continue to tweak. Recently, I learned how to host webinars (you would know this if you've been reading my blog) and I feel that I am pretty good at it. My first webinar was very small so I was able to physically call the participants instead of using the long distance system-provided number. I facilitated a course about LinkedIn as a tool for increasing business results and personal development.

This was the perfect set up since the purpose of using LinkedIn is to make connections and communicate via the Internet. I enjoyed the session immensely and I think the participants did as well.

Fast forward to another session which had double the number of participants. It was not possible to physically call each person so I opted to use the teleconference function. I spent the next three hours talking to dead air. I have no doubt that the participants could hear me - they were actively asking questions and commenting as we viewed various functions. The problem was that I couldn't figure out how to hear them.

About three weeks prior to this, I attended a webinar training class facilitated by a colleague. I am 100% sure that she reviewed how to change the features to unmute everyone. I, however, failed to take copious notes. So there I was alone in my office, talking to no one.

You may think that talking comes quite easily to me and you would be correct. The challenge is talking with no audible response. Try it sometime. Call your answering machine and just talk to it for three hours. Ask it questions, give it directions, and tell it jokes. Then you will feel my pain.

** Lesson learned: take better notes when learning something new.

Meanwhile...

My job these days consists of looking for a new job. Luckily, my boss is really lenient in letting me find a new job while "working" at my current job.

In the midst of this overwhelming task, I try to find some time for professional development. I know that sounds kooky, but I want to stay hip to my profession. (Besides, I *do* have a lot of free time on my hands...)

One of my interests these days is e-learning. I have minimal personal experience, but I am lucky enough to have a colleague (see his blog here) who I consider to be an e-learning guru. Nearly everything I know about e-learning I have learned through him.

Last week, he sent me an e-mail about a webinar hosted by Enspire Learning, D2D, and Skillpoint Alliance. I attended that webinar on Thursday and I was infinitely impressed. Not only did I learn about casual games, I also gained insight on the process of developing a game for public use. The case study that the presenters shared was for a game called Celebrity Calamity. The premise is very simple and fun, two essential elements when creating casual games.

Besides the cool game and wonderful information, I just plain enjoyed the presentation. Earlier this week, I attended a workshop on how to use Power Point. I've been using this software for nearly ten years, so I wasn't expecting to learn much. How wrong I was!

I learned all kinds of tricks and shortcuts and cool formatting strategies. Additionally, the facilitator (another colleague) gave us some tips on how to do a presentation - short sentences, large font, testing projectors, etc. The webinar that I attended seemed to follow all of her directions.

Next week, I will be attending another workshop (also facilitated by a colleague) that will teach me how to host a webinar. I'm so excited. I created a special Power Point presentation just for this occasion.

So this post is dedicated to

1. My boss - for giving me time and opportunity to stay engaged in my "job" and encouraging and supporting me in my fruitless job search.


2. My e-learning guru - for providing me with knowledge, anecdotes, and resources for my new found interest.


3. My Power Point facilitator - for reminding me that years of experience does not correlate to mastery.


4. My webinar facilitator - for sharing expertise and giving me something to look forward to.

** Lesson learned: On May 22, I will miss the people more than I will miss the job

And now for something completely different

On Saturday, March 28, I attended a job fair hosted by my local county government. Originally this was called the "My County Mega Job Fair." Upon further investigation, the title was actually called "Envision your Success." After my previous experiences, I was not hopeful about my success.

I was pleasantly surprised. As I pushed through the door, I was immediately greeted by someone who handed me a map and invited me to sign up for workshops. Workshops? I perused the offerings and settled on "Surviving a Job Loss," an hour long session on what to expect and how to deal with losing a job. Perfect.

While I waited for the workshop, I investigated the employers and talked to a few. The employers were nice enough, but the most impressive part was that the booths were spread throughout the building on multiple floors. No one was waiting in line and no one was bumping into anyone else. And no one was stinky!

The next best part? Scattered throughout the halls were volunteers answering questions and directing people to the appropriate floor or booth. Additionally, get ready for this, they were all happy! Everyone was smiling and seemed to be enjoying spending their rainy Saturday morning helping the soon to be unemployed find a new job. This really set the tone for the whole day. The unemployed are so much more relaxed if people around them are helpful. Crazy thought, I know.

Since the theme was not strictly a job fair, the booths also represented non-profit organizations helping people start their own business, local continuing education resources, and my personal favorite – the Human Rights group. Their sole purpose was to talk to potential employees about fair hiring practices. They had posters and fliers about what questions/topics are legal and illegal to discuss during an interview. They were also handing out cards with a hotline to "turn in" employers who were violating these laws.

The workshop was great. Someone from the unemployment office was there to answer questions. Several representatives from free training centers offered advice. And the lead presenter made us feel comfortable enough that some of us cracked jokes.

I dropped my resume off with a few people; I don't expect a call back. But what I gained was more than that, I got a true sense of community. I know that sounds cheesy, and I'm not quite sure what it means, but I know I felt it.

** Lesson learned: My local government really does care about me.

Sardines is a game for kids, not job seekers

I recently went to a job fair hosted by a very well known online job site. I had very high expectations for this job fair. After my last experience with job fairs, how could this one be worse?

Well, here are just a few ways:

1. Only 10 employers were present. The website and e-mail registration response listed these employers and dutifully noted "and many more!"
2. Lack of direction. This job fair was hosted in a very big convention-center-like professional building. This places hosts weddings, conferences, and the city's visitor center. People in suits were wandering around in every corridor asking each other for directions.
3. Very low ROI. My return on investment was zilch. I spent $14.50 in transportation and parking fees to talk to one employer who advised me to look online for other jobs since he didn't know if his company was hiring for people with my expertise.
4. Sardines is a fun game, when you're 8. This is perhaps the most disappointing aspect of this entire production.

When I was young, all the neighborhood kids would get together and play Sardines. This is basically a reverse hide-and-seek game. One person hides and everyone else counts to 100. As people find the hidden person, they hide together. The loser is the last person to find the hidden group. As you can imagine, towards the end of the game everyone looks like packed sardines in a tin can. This is a fun game, especially played outdoors at dusk, for KIDS.

The unemployed (current or future) do not enjoy being smushed together in small spaces like sardines. Rather we enjoy having the freedom to move our hands to scratch our faces or move our heads to look at the next employer that we plan to meet. Furthermore, we like to know that the host of the fair truly cares about us. One of the ways a host can show that they care is by maximizing the entire space of the conference hall.

If the conference hall is as big as a football field, it is OK to use the entire space; even if only 10 employers are present. In fact, I implore that the entire space be used. Unfortunately, the host of this job fair did not consult me. As a result, over 300 people were packed into a space the size of a Starbucks, while the rest of the hall remained completely empty.

Lines to get in to the hall trickled into the large corridor, no doubt disturbing the business meetings in the rest of the building. Once inside, it was a battle to find the right employer line to stand in. "Are you in line for Aflac or General Dynamics?" Some people were nice, but most were not. "Hey you, the line starts back there. No skipping."

Think about how edgy people are when they stand in line for a concert with general admission. Now add an extra layer of unemployment. Yeah...not pretty.

After standing in two lines for over 20 minutes, I talked to one employer for 3 minutes.

**Lesson learned: Logistics are everything.

Resistance is Never Futile

Earlier this week I attended an information session targeted for those of us who "are being offered severance packages." My understanding of this meeting was that the future organization would be talking to the soon-to-be unemployed about benefits, 401(K), etc. This sounded a lot like a lion describing its own digestive system to a zebra. The actual session was much worse.

After hearing about the history of the organization, each of the presenters shared how delighted they were about our companies merging together. The leader of the team went even further by stating, "If you look out our history, we've done many acquisitions just like this." I silently wondered if she realized that the only people benefiting from this acquisition were the people doing all the talking.

As a training and development professional, I know that one of the worst things that can happen while facilitating a workshop is to have resistance from the audience and the worst kind of resistance is silence. In my opinion, one of the main reasons for silence in a classroom is lack of trust between speaker and audience. These presenters got silence.

One person was from a "Transition Services" firm (outplacement agency) that the organization hired. She was amiable and made a valiant effort in opening up the crowd. Unfortunately, there were no takers. I finally threw her a bone and asked a question about their services...too bad the answer was so disappointing.

This may sound a bit conceited, but I consider myself to be a relatively nice person and, in general, I try to cut people some slack. At this particular meeting I just couldn't. Throughout the rest of the presentation, the following sentence was repeated at least three times: "The information on this slide pertains to those who are staying through the acquisition. That doesn't really apply to anyone here today."

None the less, the information was good. Sort of. Everything that was shared in the session could have been done via webinar or teleconference or e-mail. The only nice part about the meeting was getting to see my colleagues. Perhaps for the last time.

**Lesson learned: Know your audience.

Job Fairs are Smelly

Three weeks ago I was informed that my employment would cease in the very near future. As a result, I have been doing what 8% of the population has been doing - looking for a job.

My first venture was to attend a public job fair. For those few of you who have no idea what a job fair is, let me break it down for you. Employers come to a large facility (imagine your high school gym), set up booths, and talk to people about potential jobs. The current or future unemployed walk around and inquire about available positions and hand out resumes like candy on Halloween.

As a former manager, I have attended job fairs on the employer side of the table. In previous years, this was a very easy part of my job. In fact, I often looked forward to going "out there" to meet the public. Below is a rough example of a job fair conversation eight years ago:

Employer: Hi! Welcome to My Company's booth. My name is Hiring Manager. What kind of job are you looking for?

Candidate: Hello, my name is Job Seeker. I have extensive work experience in Your Field of Expertise. I have been employed with My Current Company for the last two years and I am interested in expanding my skills so that I can actively contribute to an organization that values innovation, hard work, and business ethics.

E: Wonderful! You sound like the perfect candidate. Go ahead and complete this application. Once you are finished, I will interview you. If you have a resume, I'd love to see it.

C: Excellent. Here's my resume. Do you have a pen I can borrow?

***

This candidate was probably hired on the spot.

Fast forward to the job fair I attended last week. Here's an example of a conversation I overheard:

Employer: Hi. We're currently hiring for one Open Position. Do you think you are qualified?

Candidate: Yes. My name is Desperate Job Seeker and I was recently laid off from Your Company's Competitor where I worked for over ten years. My most recent accomplishment was to initiate an internal review of our current work flow processes. After extensive recommendations, I was able to save my company over $20 thousand simply by streamlining the way we handle our external customer inquiries.

E: OK. Yeah, sure, that sounds great. Here's our website. You can see all our jobs and fill out an application. We're not currently taking resumes at this job fair. I don't have any business cards either. Good luck.

***

This person was probably not hired. Instead, she was herded into the next booth, shoved into another waiting line of a company that she did not know and started to perspire (again) with a mixture of expected nervousness and unexpected desperation.

The bad thing is that she wasn't the only person perspiring; and we all know that if a lot of people are perspiring at least one of them forgot to use deodorant. Just like it only takes one obnoxious person to ruin a dinner party, it only takes one smelly person to ruin a job fair.

Once I did a quick whiff check, I tried to guess who the culprit was. I considered the balding man with the too-small suit and the gray haired woman who dabbed her forehead with a dingy white tissue three times in twenty seconds. Both of them seemed likely candidates. The smell became overwhelming. At five feet, I am nose level with most armpits - a very uncomfortable position in a room of 1,000 people. I spent approximately 45 minutes at this job fair.

I didn't pick up any business cards and I didn't leave any resumes. Instead, I quickly walked through the maze of booths while breathing through my mouth. I made it to the end of the cramped hallway and pushed myself through the door to chilled fresh air and freedom.

I am planning to attend another public job fair this week.

**Lesson learned: Keep deodorant in the car at all times.