the new blog

…is up. If you don’t have the link yet shoot me an email – Savedbythebrew @ gmail . com and I’ll send it to you. I think.

leaving Barista behind

Tonight as I was driving home I realized that in my head the new job was just a series of vacations I’d get to enjoy and write about for the next couple years. It’s like the idea that I’ll actually be working while I’m in all of these places kinda escaped me in the excitement of it all.

Sure, when I was shopping for new clothes my head was in cute professional mode – kinda. Really what I was often thinking was “Ooooh! This Brooks Brothers button-down will look great with a black pencil skirt and my 5″ zebra and pink heels when I’m walking through the airport on my way to who knows where” and not “I really want to look nice and professional when I walk into a financial advisor’s office to audit his/her branch.” My bad.

So it hit me. I’ll be doing actual work, too. I will have a job and not just be the official yelp reviewer for various restaurants around the country. Oh, yeah. I won’t just be having glasses of wine in the hotel bar in the evening, checking in to random places and meeting other travelers from near and far.

Oh. Yeah.

And as I sat here reflecting on the fact that I’d be doing actual work – work I’ve never done before – I realized that I haven’t thought much about that because after 14 years in this industry, and a well-rounded career including many different positions within it, I know my shit. I have the utmost confidence in my ability to do this job and do it well.

Hell, that’s how I sold myself in the cover letter that pretty much guaranteed I’d be hired. So much so that when I met with my new boss he barely had any questions for me and took the time to praise said letter, saying he’d never seen anything like it in his life. I knew it was good. I’d been pleased when I’d finished it and sent it off. But I also wasn’t just looking for a new job. I’d waited – very patiently – until THIS very specific job I wanted opened up and then I gave it my all.

I should go back and read that cover letter now in order to offer more insight and some tips into the cover letter writing process, but I’m a wee bit too lazy for all that. I do remember one of my main points in the letter, though. I’ve held many different positions in this industry and each one has taught me a lot, but the most valuable thing I’ve learned over the years is that you can teach pretty much anyone to do any job and what really matters in the end is personality. Being comfortable interacting with c-levels, financial advisors and operations personnel equally and – most importantly – leaving each one with a smile on his/her face at the end makes me valuable.

It wasn’t fluff. It wasn’t bullshit. And I fully believe my interview was just their way of confirming I meant and could back up every claim in that letter. And I did. I was genuine. I didn’t tell them what they wanted to hear, but instead the truth. When the VP asked me a question I couldn’t answer I thought for a very brief second and then said “You know what? I can’t come up with that answer right now. I’ve been out of that position for 6 years and I’m sure I could if we sat here for a lot longer, but right now I am drawing a blank.” And he accepted that and moved on.

One big thing I’ve learned in my career – and life – is being genuine and honest is ok. People can relate to it. Surely that VP had interviewed people who could make up answers on the fly and had the “right” answer for everything. And surely that VP can read through bullshit just as quickly as you and I. Being able to admit when you don’t know something, but selling it properly in the “I don’t have the answer to that, but I’ll find out and get back to you” fashion has saved me many times. People are ok with you not having the answer every time and it takes a confident person to admit that, I’ve realized.

Follow through. My unofficial offer came to me less than 2 hours after I sent a heartfelt thank you to the head of the department. Yes, I asked for the job in the end. But in my email I also made sure to express – genuinely, not blowing smoke – how refreshing it was to me to meet a compliance professional with such a dynamic personality who could surely teach me a whole lot. Again – not blowing smoke. I knew when I met him that I’d learn a lot from him in the next few years.

As an experienced professional, I don’t approach job interviews the way many do. I don’t have the rigid, scared, give-you-the-right-answers attitude. I always see an interview more as me interviewing them. Do I want to work for this guy? Will I learn from these people? What will this company do for me? BUT – this is important – I don’t present it in that arrogant way. I feel it out. I evaluate. I ask questions that help me find out if I could work for the person and what I’ll gain from the experience. My background sells me, so I get to look to the interviewers to sell themselves. I don’t want to work for an Old Uncle Marvin. But Former Boss? I’d work for him again in a heartbeat. And I knew that from the interview with him.

I didn’t set out writing this post as such. Really, I was just reflecting on the fact that I’d forgotten I’ll be working as I’m venturing out into the world. But since landing this great job I’ve had many people ask me for advice. They have asked for my cover letter – or for me to help them write theirs. And as I’ve thought about it these were my thoughts. I can’t give you MY letter because it’s me. It’s not you. I can’t help you write yours (yes, I can proofread and offer suggestions), but in the end if what you say doesn’t match who you are in the interview you won’t win. Period.

I work in a very uptight industry. My personality and therefore my cover letter and interview persona are nothing even close to rigid. I was ok with that because I didn’t need A JOB. I needed a new place to add value to and a group of people who respected me as the individual I am. Would my approach work for everyone? Maybe not. I recognize that. But – and I say this not to be arrogant, but because it’s true – I’ve gotten pretty much every job I’ve interviewed for in 10 years. When I interviewed for my last job the HR Guy told me I’d be successful no matter what I wanted to do for one reason – my personality.

The lesson? Connect with people. This is natural for me, so it doesn’t take work. I thank my dad for teaching me about people and honesty. Two things a lot of people don’t understand. In the end you sell YOU. Not your skills. Not your resume. But as I told the friend who recently asked my advice on her career – become well-rounded! I’ve held so many different positions over the years that you can’t question whether or not I can learn something new. Anything new you’re asked to do? Do it. Learn. Listen to everything that goes on around you and suck in that knowledge.

When I was 21 I worked for a woman who was in a position I wanted to be in. She told me during my first week “I listen to everything going on around me. I just listen and process. And learn from it. Listen to everything.” I wish I could find her now to tell her how much this little piece of advice did for me in my career.

I’ve gotten every single license my companies over the years would pay for. Industry certifications (in my industry) are a big deal and I jumped at every opportunity. You want me to take over a department I hate? Sure! It’s all learning.

Ok, lecture off. Point is – make yourself marketable. Become well-rounded. Be genuine. It pays off in the end unless genuine for you is total asshole and then you need to work on yourself ;)

In two days I board a plane to Chicago with someone I’ve never met. I don’t know anything other than the time of my flight. I have no idea who my travel companion is, what he looks like, how to find him once I get there. But am I nervous? Nah. It will all be ok.

When I was 16 I boarded a flight from O’Hare bound for Rio de Janeiro with nothing more than the “guarantee” that some random family I’d never met would meet me at the airport. It was my first time on a plane and I was alone and a little scared. I didn’t speak Portuguese (yet) and I had no idea what would happen once I got through customs in Rio.

This? Patty-cake compared to that. And since I survived that I’m fairly certain this will be no big deal.

So Monday morning I will again get on a plane with no idea what will happen when I arrive. I’ll also be writing in a new blog – one that I’ve created to capture the stories of my new adventure. I hope you come along for the journey, but please do leave your judgments behind. If you can’t? Well, I invite you to not join me in this new adventure.

saying goodbye

Today is likely going to be my last day instead of tomorrow. I did my exit interview with HR Guy Monday and Boss took me to lunch yesterday – a lunch that turned into a 2 hour long bitch session about OUM. In the 2.5 years I’ve been working there, Boss and I have never bad-mouthed OUM to each other, but we’ve shared many looks that conveyed most of what we were thinking. I didn’t think it was appropriate to engage Boss in bashing one of his employees so I took my venting elsewhere. During lunch yesterday he told me that he wished I’d come to him in the past couple months to let him know just how miserable that old man made me, but – as I explained to him – I don’t know how it could have made a difference. You can’t change someone’s personality. Or lack there of.

“Please,” I said as we were leaving lunch. “When you hire someone to replace me do something to protect that person from him. Or hire a total asshole who will put him in his place.”

But after today I will never have to think about that old man again. And that’s probably one of the main reasons people have been telling me all week that I’m glowing. Well, that and this great tan makes me actually glow.

I will also never have to see Creepy Insecurity Guard again. Probably the same age as OUM – damn old – but way creepier. To not have to plan my day around not going to certain parts of the building while he’s there?  Will be glorious. And this week, since I’ve seen him at least 100 times, I’ve allowed myself to not feel bad about saying “good morning” and shutting the small talk down. But after today I won’t have to shudder knowing he’s trying to look at my hot legs in the skirt I’m wearing or watching me walk down the hall. Eeek. So disgusting.

I’ll never have to get stuck in the conversation with Debbie Downer, who is a very nice person, but reminds me of eeyore. I’ll never have to awkwardly excuse myself from those conversations. I’ll never have to hope I don’t run into her.

Or the Indian woman who tries to be really nice, but is actually one of the most annoying people ever. She hugged me yesterday and I was taken aback. I’m not a hugger. And we weren’t cool like that. Why she wanted to hug me?  Beyond all I can even imagine, but I guess I’m just a likable sort.

There was a last-ditch effort by my first work crush. Apparently he thinks that me leaving the company cancels out the fact that he’s married. I do wish he weren’t so hot, but the hotness is cancelled out by something called HIS WIFE. Shut that down again.

I did give my phone number to my super secret work crush yesterday…last ditch effort, I suppose. Not sure why I decided it would be ok to be so bold when I’ve spent 2 years tryig to flirt with him and getting nothing back. But hey – I got bold. And I didn’t die because of it. His response? “Is this business or personal?” I may or may not have looked at him like he was crazy.

In all honesty there’s not much I’ll miss about that place. A few people, but the ones I really like I can stay in touch with. I won’t miss the Amway-like structure, the politics that exceed those of any corporation I’ve ever worked for, the suggestions of random people on how to run my business. I won’t miss the strict time schedule or the question “Do you have any cupcakes today?” when I hadn’t brought cupcakes to give away in over a year.

I will miss my JC Starbucks.  My baristas who were just down the street when I needed a break from the bullshit.  I’ll miss seeing them three times a day.  I won’t miss Creepy Shoe Guy there, though.

Hey!  When I start on Monday I can totally reinvent myself. Nobody knows anything about me, so I can make up whatever I want. Maybe I’ll do just that.

I’m excited to close this chapter and open the next. I’m happy to say goodbye.

going back

This time next week I’ll be in my second favorite city – Chicago. This has me feeling very excited…like I seriously cannot wait to board that plane. Every time I’ve started a new job I’ve been a little nervous, but this time? I simply cannot wait. I have an infinite amount of confidence in my ability to excel at this position and am so excited at the possibilities that lie ahead of me.

And yet – really? Chicago? For my first trip? This time of the year? Why does the universe fuck with me so?

Sure, I love Chicago. Adore it. I’d move there if snow and cold didn’t exist in the winter months.

But what most people don’t know is that 4 years ago – in October of 2007 – I was positioned to move to Chicago. And it wasn’t just an idea in my head…it was my reality.

In 2007 I created a company. A brilliant idea that was sold to a major company in 2007. My idea? My brainchild? It was made into a reality by The Heartbreaker – who is now the CEO of the company I created. After we broke up in February 2007 he ran with my idea, kicked me out and now runs this company with the backing of…yes, a major player in the employment industry. In essence he stole my idea and made it work for him. Ever tr salesman, he sold it, won it and kicked me out. He fucked me over.

And this time 4 years ago he agreed with me that I should have a leadership position in said company. At least that was what he told me as he flew me to Chicago 3 of 4 weeks in October, took me to the corporate office and introduced me to his co-workers as the person he was bringing on to help run the company. The company that was MY idea. The company I helped create.

I fell in love with Chicago. Perhaps it was partially due to the fact that I was wined and dined while I was there – who doesn’t love that?! I was in my Ex’s 34th floor condo downtown having amazing sex and being lead to believe I was about to have the opportunity of a lifetime…to be part of something I’d helped create. I’d envisioned!

In the end the motherfucker screwed me again and that’s my fault. I never should have trusted a liar a second time, but I truly believed he wanted to do right by me after all he’d done…after all he’d taken from me.

Alas, I was wrong. My belief in the greater good in people shattered. Jut as he’d shattered my trust of men forever more.

Now…I’m going back. And while I love that I’m going to a place I adore I can’t lie and say I haven’t thought about the fact that he is there. I can’t lie and say it doesn’t freak me out thinking that I could run into him in a city of millions because since our traumatic breakup I’ve seen him in the most random of places…when I’ve least expected it and when he certainly shouldn’t be there. I mean – he lives in Chicago! Why the hell would he be in random places I am in…in Atlanta?!

Still to this day I feel hatred for him. There was a time when I tried to forgive and what it really was – in hindsight – was me loving him more.

When I met him I was carefree, trusting, open an honest. He killed all of those things. Now? I’m scared, semi-bitter, jaded and untrusting. Because if anyone in the world could make you believe he was great…it was my Heartbreaker. He was the master manipulator. He fooled me, my friends, mt family. He even fooled Ex-Husband, who was an original partner in our business plan and ended up voluntarily leaving after he saw how badly The Heartbreaker fucked me over.

He destroyed all of my innocence.

I let him. I had the utmost trust in him and he killed all that was kind an giving and open inside of me.

So while I’m excited to visit a city I totally adore as part of my first adventure on this new journey, at the same time I’m nervous not about how well I will do at the job, but about how I know I will be looking over my shoulder at every turn. Every corner. Every street I walk down. I’ll be looking for him. Not because I want to see him, but because I sooo don’t want to see him an yet he always appears. Because I know he enjoys fucking with my head so much that he will surely try to find me and just be there.

Because don’t we all havethat one person we look back at who fucked us up so hard yet we still feel nostalgic about? The passion. The feeling that he was “The One” even though everything we know post-relationship totally screams FUCK NO!!!

I let go of this situation in September 2008 when I was supposed to travel back to Chicago to see him. A few days before I was to leave on my scheduled flight The Canadian and my sis-in-law had a come to Jesiis meeting with me. When I returned to Atlanta two days later I called and – through real tears – told him I couldn’t come and that we could never speak again. No emails. No texts. No calls. And I wouldn’t be making that flight to Chucago in two days. It was one of the hardest things I ever did.

But……it was the last time we spoke. I stayed true to it. I refused all texts. I didn’t answer calls. And 3 months later, while I was thankfully home with my family, he showed up at my Starbucks with a birthday gift and card for me. Bastard. That card stayed in my Jeep…on the console…until the day two months ago when I sold the jeep and threw that card in the trash.

My baby Buddy? My sweet, precious pup I loved so much? A gift from Rhe Heattbreaker. I can’t tell you how many times while Buds and I were chilling on the couch in my new life that I looked at my sweet baby dog and said “I hate your daddy. He fucked me up.” I can’t tell you how many times Buds tried to lick away the tears The Heartbreaker left me with.

Now, four years later, I haven’t thought about Rhe Heartbreaker in any kind of nostalgic way in years. I pulled myself out. I got over him. I stopped wishing he’d realize he loved me as I did him.

But still – four years later – I’m jaded by men. I’m scared. I don’t believe much of anything and I don’t trust. I’m not sweet. I’m sarcastic and hard-seeming. I’m so fucking scared to be hurt like the again.

So to be going back? Yeah, it raises emotions in my head that haven’t been here in years. Literally.

But not because I still love him – I don’t. Because I can’t stand how much he shaped my life and I wish he never had.

I’ll get through it. I’m not reduced to tears, dwelling on it or even dreading it. But I will look at everyone’s face and try to find him in it while I’m there. Not because I want to, but because I honestly think he’ll always be just around the corner waiting to fuck me up again.

I’m glad I no longer long for a love I thought was real, but in actuality was the biggest bullshit I’ve ever experienced. But when you truly love – with all your heart and without any reservations – it becomes something you want again. Even when you become too scared to submit to love like that again.

Of course, in hindsight I see the problems, the red flags. In hindsight I don’t, however, see the love of my life fucking another woman in my house and in my car. But that’s neither here nor there. All men are not My Heartbreaker. All men are not evil. All men aren’t trying to break me. I get that and while I’d never fall for that kind of bullshit again (I hope) I do think he ruined me from being able to let go and trust and truly believe true love can exist.

And so next week I start yet another new chapter. One I’ve wanted and worked hard to get to. I’m excited. And at nearly 35 years old I’m also a little scared. I’ll get over it – I promise! But it still weighs on me slightly.

Universe? If you’re listening? Please don’t let me run into My Heartbreaker. I want peace.

That’s all.

Sent from my iPhone

just for fun

I did some major damage shopping this weekend.  In my defense I submit two things: 1) I came in WAY under budget on vacation and 2) I’m starting a new job next week and need new fall clothes.  That being said…

 I got these…

 

 

And these…

 

Unfortunately, the second pair was too tight.  One size up was WAY too big and they didn’t have a ½ size, but I was so in love with these shoes that I had to buy them and try to stretch them.  This morning as I walked around the house in thick socks (which did work a little) I realized that there was pretty much no way I’d be walking through the airport in these bitches. 

 

Because yes, I do believe in wearing skirts and heels in the airport, ok?

 

I went on the DSW website this morning and found a similar pair that just so happened to be $20 cheaper and there was one pair left in my size.  I snatched them up with a quickness. 

 

I also got some great jewelry and some cute clothes.  All around I’m happy. 

 

You mean you don’t have a candy buffet in your home for your guests?  Hush now.  Yes, there are also labeled cellophane bags and hot pink twist ties.  What?  People like candy.  Fortunately I’m not even the slightest bit tempted by any of this.

 

On Friday I met The Bourgie Baker for lunch in Atlantic Station, where she offered me my first experience with food trucks.  Was a tough decision, but in the end I had this:

 

 

I’ve never been a big pizza fan, but lately I really want it.  This was *good*.  And the pop – it was good, too, but I think people hyped the King of Pops up a little too much for me.

 

Chocolate Sea Salt pop

Seeing Bourg was very nice.

 

Only 3 more days at this office before I’m done.  I could not be happier.

 

Today I was chatting with a woman in the office about my new job and she whispered to me “How old are you?” When I said I’ll be 35 this year she just about fell to the ground.  “I thought you were around 28!”  I love when people say this. 

 

And last, but certainly not least – I’d kinda like to slap all the people who told me I needed to try risotto after I said that I don’t like rice.  Umm…am I wrong or is risotto just semi-creamy, flavored rice?  I totally expected it to be completely different from rice and it’s not.  I wasted some calories on that crap.

hiking Mt. Christoffel

It looks so peaceful as you approach the northwest coast where Mt. Christoffel lies

The thing is this – I am a girly girl who really wants to be good at outdoorsy things line camping, hiking, playing sports and getting dirty.

That's Mt. Christoffel - the highest point of Curacao

Today I discovered that while I enjoy the outdoors, enjoy camping (even sleeping in tents) and like hiking, I’m not cut out for anything terribly strenuous…like say climbing a very rustic path up the side of the highest mountain in Curacao. We were less than 1/3 of the way in to this serious climb up when I declared to JP that I would NOT be going to the top. I didn’t say this so she would encourage me; I said it to warn her. So that she wouldn’t get all pissy when, after the next 1/3 of the climb was done, I would declare I was also done.

I can't believe I was still smiling. Inside I was dying.

The views were amazing.

You want to keep going? Great!  Have fun!  There are plenty of people on this trail you can join up with. Hell, make yourself a friend. I don’t give a fuck. “But we’re so close, Korbs!”

“I don’t give a fuck.” I’d practiced those words in my head knowing full well I was going to have to adamantly refuse or I’d get some kind of begging, prodding, etc. And I don’t like that kinda shit. When I’m done I’m done!

So in a way it kinda seemed like a blessing that moment I lifted my left foot up over a foot high to the nearest rock and while my right leg was easily following it smacked dead into a rock.

Knee v. Rock

“FUCK!!”

JP was about 10 feet ahead of me and thought I was just bitching again as I looked down and saw the blood beginning to trickle down from the cut. Nice.

Immediately I thought of Keyalus and how her dumb little tough ass would NOT be whining over a minor injury like this. And then in my head I heard “Fuck all that. You aren’t Keyalus!”

This was one of the easier parts of the trail. Can you even call that a trail?

I looked down at the blood getting ready to drip down my leg and sat down on a nearby rock directing my back right into a thorny plant, furthering my resolve to quit this shit. “My legs look too fucking good in a short skirt for me to risk fucking them up further,” I thought. “Sorry, JP. I’m done. This was it for me.”

She went on ahead after giving me the car keys and assuring me she would join up with another group just ahead of us. And I headed down the mountain alone.

Now, while we were going up I knew it was going to be difficult going down, but I underestimated how hard it would actually be. It’s nice not being out of breath from climbing up, but your feet are a whole lot steadier when you’re going up. You can grab rocks above you to pull you up. Going down you have to rely on your feet, cutely bound in your favorite running shoes that are now getting dirty – damn it!!, to not slip on the rocks covered in the water dripping down the trail.

And you have to seriously train your mind to not reach out and grab something when you start to slip, because 90% of what is available to grab on this “trail”, if you can call it that , is cacti. And you obviously don’t want to grab them.

heading back down

steady those feet

About 1/3 of the way down I felt an uncomfortable rumbling in my stomach.  ”Oh, fuck no,” I thought to myself as I found myself clenching my ass to keep from shitting myself. Here I am on this trail, with people coming up toward me AND coming down behind me. What the hell was I going to do!?

For the next 25 minutes I begged my body to cooperate. “Please don’t let me shit myself. Please don’t let me shit myself.” I repeated these words over and over while trying to concentrate also on making sure my feet didn’t slip and further damage my legs while also concentrating on not reaching out to the cacti to steady myself when I’d slip. I just wanted to get to the bottom. I was so over this whole idea.

But it became apparent about 20 minutes before the end of the trail that I had to find a spot off the trail to go or I was going to certainly ruin these pants and my pride. And thankfully, less than 5 minutes later I found a spot. Never mind the fact that I had to wipe myself with the pretty pink thong I was wearing. I felt infinitely better and pushed on.

15 minutes later I reached the end and I couldn’t have been any happier. I got to the car, turned the a/c on full blast and wrote this blog on my iPhone while it was all still fresh.

And now I realize that while I may have always thought I wanted to be an outdoorsy type, I really am way better at being a girly girl in a pink dress and heels. I’m not ashamed of that.

But I am dreading when JP gets back and starts her whole spiel about how much I missed and how awesome it was and how it wasn’t really that hard at the end and blah blah blah. I’ll bite my tongue and tell her I’m glad she did it and all that. Then I’ll suffer through the rest of the day of non-girly girl activities like lying at the pool with a cocktail being lazy.  And I’ll try not to bitch about it, but shit I won’t be doing anything but dreaming about my pool day tomorrow before we leave.

Except it didn’t turn out that way. Shortly after I finished writing the last paragraph I looked up and saw JP huffing and puffing, drenched in sweat as she approached the car. She hadn’t made it to the top after all, but had given up at the vertical climb. I was not surprised – and not because I doubted her, but because that shit was truly hard and battling it alone nearly impossible.

I'd rather just stay in a place like this all day, thanks.

curacao in pictures