Y2K+10

It might be a little early to reflect back, but we ARE at the end of another decade. Have we decided yet what we’re going to call these past ten years? We had the 80s, the 90s and we now are just about done with the, ummm…aughts? Zeroes? Oh-ohs (as in ‘double zeroes’)?

Long before the copious discussions about the turn of the century (and millennium), as a young girl I remember wondering what the world was going to be like in the year 2000. I knew how old I was going to be - and that was about the only definite thing that happened as it turned out from my predictions (no, we're not living on the moon yet, for example)! I thought about the big change going from 1999 to 2000…kind of like watching all the nines on an old odometer bending down all tired and flipping over to zeroes.

So what did you do the night all those nines turned to zeroes and the '1' became a '2'? I’d always had dreams of being at Stonehenge or the Pyramids or maybe on a beach in Tahiti.

But rather than hanging out on exotic beaches or at historical landmarks, I spent the night of Friday December 31, 1999 at work, sipping sparkling cider and munching on lasagna from Olive Garden. I was in the Helpdesk/Call Center industry at that time, working as a vendor on the campus of a major software company. There was simply no doubt: that night – and all the preparations leading up to it – was going to be All Hands on Deck. Time off would have to wait.

Our department Director had ordered in food for our whole crew working that night. We had beefed up staff because, well, we had to be prepared for just about anything that might happen, in every time zone we supported (which happened to be just about every single one).

Remember all the Y2K paranoia? We were worried computers were going to crash, power was going to go out, food would get automatically dumped from inventory – people were even hoarding canned food in some extreme cases. Generators flew off store shelves and some people filled up their gas tanks as if they were expecting a hurricane, not a New Year. We heard reports of relief that Y2K would fall on a Saturday - an offpeak time for most business - so the REAL test would be Monday January 3rd. On and on and on.

It might be tempting to laugh about it now but I don't think it's worth a lot of finger pointing. We simply didn't know what was going to happen - or not happen. None of us had ever been through this before, and none of us would be alive the next time around. We were becoming more and more technologically savvy as a global community...and more and more dependent on it too. At the same time we were also learning about the pitfalls and ugly sides of technology, such as computer network virus outbreaks. My team dealt with virus scares, outages and cleanups about every 2 or 3 months it seemed. We were still learning how to protect our networks and respond to reports and threats. What would happen the night of Y2K? We simply weren't sure.

We DID know we were all in it together. And that's probably about it.

I spent part of that unglamorous night at work with my Director in her Jeep picking up forty (yes, forty) lasagnas and delivering them to our teams. We had a glass of wine in the restaurant bar while waiting for the food to be packaged up, reflected back on the year and had a few laughs. We agreed that whatever happened we would get through it together! I'll drink to that!

The lasagnas were each packed in disposable foil baking pans sealed with a layer of foil on top, stacked 3 or 4 high in paper grocery bags. We made sure to drive back to the campus very, very carefully. But when we arrived at the first building we opened the Jeep tailgate and suddenly - SPLAT - a few bags plopped right into the tailgate hinge, creating a huge, reddish-orange steamy blob.

That was a moment where it really helps to have a sense of humor. Thankfully we both did and burst into huge belly laughs! What more could we do? Some of the bags had ripped along with some of the sealed tin foil, so we lost a few trays of food deep into that tailgate hinge. I'm sure her Jeep smelled of lasagna for days! Luckily we had plenty of food to go around despite the casualties.

A few hours later our teams both cheered and breathed a collective sigh of relief when the clock struck midnight. The building was still standing. The power stayed on. No one started rioting in the streets. We didn't have a massive network virus attack. The only glitch we had was a brief phone outage due to outrageously high call volumes for a few minutes! WE MADE IT!

That was my magical turn of the millennium moment. It doesn't seem like nearly ten years ago, but maybe time just appears to go by faster the older we become.

A lot can happen in ten years: I became an Aunt 3 times over. I bought a townhouse for the first time. Worked four different jobs, and had a handful of relationships - some serious, some not. I got rid of "friends" who were toxic and welcomed in new ones. My family said goodbye to two grandparents. My parents became grandparents, retired and survived health scares with flying colors within months of one another. I traveled to ten different countries between 2000 and 2001. Our country experienced its worst act of terrorism ever. Seven years later we elected an African American as our President.

There is just so much to reflect back upon; as we get closer to the end of the year I'm sure there will be numerous retrospectives in the media and perhaps in our own thoughts too. Along with celebrating, I get a little sentimental every New Years Eve.

And I think it's OK to start now.

Weisure: Is it Working for You?

You might have stumbled upon this CNN.com article in May earlier this year.
http://www.cnn.com/2009/LIVING/worklife/05/11/weisure/index.html

As I was churning through a few things to write about today the word “weisure” popped into my head again. I’d read the article, but hadn’t really thought about it much.

Until recently.

The article defines weisure (a combination of the words work and leisure just to be clear) as the blurring of the boundary between work and play. Advances in technology have made it far, far easier to take care of business while hanging out at home with our families. And, vice versa.

“'Many who haven't already abandoned the 9-to-5 workday for the 24-7 life of weisure probably will do so soon,' according to New York University sociologist Dalton Conley, who coined the word. It's the next step in the evolving work-life culture.”

This is a new word alright. Even spell-check questions it!

My first “real” full-time job fresh out of college was at the tail end of the 1980s. The hottest piece of technology in our office (other than the constantly busy coffee maker) was our fax machine.

While I love technology, I was a bit late incorporating it into my life. Other than the joyous Commodore 64 my folks purchased back in the early 1980s, well, that was chiefly for fun. I’d rarely touched a computer in college to write papers. Personal computers were either owned by the wealthier students or available by a sign-up list in our computer lab. Another option? The lone Mac and dot matrix printer in a small “office” (really, a spare closet) at the end of the hall upstairs in my sorority house. I’ll also sheepishly admit that it wasn’t until my senior year that I was comfortable using a copy machine! You see, I’d never worked in an office before. My college summer jobs were spent cashiering at a huge department store on my feet all day, not behind a desk.

So in this first office job I was the receptionist. Yes, I got to make coffee, answer phones, greet guests, hang up coats, type and file. Boy, I was pretty good at typing and filing! Every morning I would walk to the back room where the fax machine sat, greeted by a pile of that old-school curly thermal fax paper which had spilled over the countertop onto the floor. (Our parent company was overseas, so while our workday was ending, theirs was just beginning.)

Every morning was a daily battle to flatten out that awful, stubborn and curly fax paper, sorting which page went where (or slicing it up by page if it had spewed out in a long, continuous stuck-together loop like a roll of paper towels out of control). Then, photocopying. Know what our communication method was? We were a small office of just six people, and everyone’s business was everyone’s business. I had to make a copy of each fax for each person in the office, staple them, and place them face down on each person’s desk. Then I filed the curly originals in a manila folder, sorted by week and month.

Sounds a bit quaint, doesn't it? Fast forward 10 years and not only did I have my own personal computer at home, but a laptop for work. And, a remote connection to our corporate network.

The late 1990s job was my first taste of weisure. I remember the pang of panic I felt feeling behind and out of the loop with email one morning because I hadn’t yet read the long, heated discussion that had bubbled up at midnight (by local colleagues, so time zones weren’t the issue here). I started checking my work email remotely before I went to bed each night. I forwarded my desk phone number to my cell when I was away from the office. Now I could take calls just about anywhere – the grocery store, in the car, or even right out of the shower with wet hair in a bathrobe. Yes, the lines were starting to blur. Depending on the group I was working with, I didn't really need to be in the office every day. But I did have to be available and responsive, however, as did all of us.

Posting on social networking sites and checking home email during work is now more and more common. In between working, we can pay bills online, reply to a text, do a few clicks to purchase those coveted boots which are now available - thanks to an email notification, chat over instant messaging with a friend, tweak that spreadsheet on shared network space and respond to client emails. And oh, wow - pictures of my friend's kid’s birthday party just popped up on Facebook…

How many browser windows do YOU keep simultaneously open?

Is it healthy for us to not worry about when or how we're getting work done, as long as it gets done? Does it really matter that I negotiated a business deal on my cell standing in my underwear in a department store dressing room rather than sitting at my desk (and fully clothed)?

Is it wise to bitch about a conference call on Facebook or Twitter during the actual call? Now that I have no work commute due to having no job I am on social networking sites much more often during the day. Call me naive, but I am shocked how much complaining and venting about work goes on...during the workday! And as the week winds up it's a steady stream of "TGIF," or "the weekend is finally heeeeeeeeeeeere!!"

There are so many of us out of work who would love to be working right now. And yet I have friends who are absolutely bored to death or feeling miserable about their jobs. Or, simply ready for a break from the burnout. What a dichotomy! Over dinner one night I shared my job hunt updates with a friend, while my friend in turn shared a dream to take a (unpaid) sabbatical from a well-established job and we talked about ideas on how to make it happen.

While I appreciate not feeling "on call" when not working, I do like the weisure movement. As the artricle so eloquently states, what we're doing now will seem very quaint, just as working vs. playing "rules" from 50 years ago might seem now.

And, with my tongue very firmly planted in my cheek, let me close with some advice on what NOT to ask someone you work with when making small talk over the phone or email:

What are you wearing?

Texting? The Jury's Still Out (Or…The Lost Art of the Vowel)

I had two potential titles for this post in mind so I decided to just pair them up together.

Who’s the guy in green at the center of the painting? Why, that’s Johannes Gutenberg! If his name doesn’t sound familiar, stay tuned for we will get to him a bit later.

- RU bsy?
- LOL no im nt bsy im only drving
- DNT TXT N DRV

Oh…texting. It’s hard to pinpoint when it became mainstream in so many circles. Are many of us now better at typing with our thumbs instead of our fingers? Just the word “texting” guarantees a ton of discussion.

There is a texting love/hate relationship out there which has generated heated arguments. Arguments that have seethed and boiled over in one of the online discussion forums I frequent. Some love it and use abbreviated text speak even in a lot of their forum posts (far beyond the more commonly-known LOL or OMG). I’ve seen some of these forum posts so full of acronyms I concluded it must physically hurt for that person to type vowels. Other people love to text but use full-blown words, the way they’ve been spelled for eons. And others despise it altogether.

Here are just a few comments I’ve heard or read on forums:

- I don’t like talking on the phone. I’d rather text.
- Texting is so much more convenient...I don’t have to talk to the other person.
- Sometimes you can't just pick up the phone and have a conversation if your [sic] at work or dinner, movie, or a meeting and so the only thing you can do is text the person back. So as not to disturb other people around you.

To these statements above I say cowardly bullshit.

Have we become so incredibly de-humanized that we can’t pick up a phone and speak with one another? Do we HAVE to get back with someone immediately (in a non-emergency situation) or can’t we just wait until the end of the movie or the meeting? Do you mind that I would like to enjoy the movie or play in the theatre space we’re sharing? Please don’t ruin it with the glow of your phone screen for a couple of hours!

What would Johannes Gutenberg think about texting? He invented the printing press, completing it in the mid 15th century. His method of using movable type is credited with not only unleashing a revolution in the production of books, but also triggering rapid development in the sciences, arts and religion. Suddenly many scribes were out of jobs I’d imagine. In the book 1000 Years, 1000 People the authors rank the thousand most influential people over the previous millennium. Gutenberg was ranked #1. Yes, he was a forward-looking guy alright. So, maybe he’d be into texting today – who knows?

I know that I’m really not, as you might have guessed in reading this so far. Now, before I go into a little more detail about why, let me explain that I absolutely love technology, as much as a non-technical, non code writer type of person can. I touch technology every day and I applaud it and the benefits it brings to our lives. At the risk of contradicting myself about texting…I love email. I love reading and writing email; in fact I have at last count seven Inboxes in my life due to having various email addresses depending on their purpose. And I do a pretty good job keeping them all current.

I've had cell phones for many years but never used them to text. I guess, coincidentally, most of the people I speak with regularly don't really text much either.

Suddenly one day my phone started chirping in a way it never had before. What happened? I got a text! A text from a guy I had recently started dating. It was a couple paragraphs - yes paragraphs, not a short message - on what he was doing that evening, an evening where he had other plans. OK, that's great and all but it really struck me odd. Over time the amount of texts I received grew and grew in frequency. So did my cell phone bill; I'd gone way over the limit of texts included in my basic rate, unbeknownst to me - what a shock! The amount of phone calls I received from him gradually morphed into texts, not calls.

At best it was flattering – I now knew the sound of that little fluttery text alert.

At worst it felt cheap, flat and even a little sneaky.

I told him how I felt and how I appreciated a phone call far more than a text (he traveled a lot for work so we didn't have a lot of time together in general). He tried as best he could to explain how convenient texting is and how wonderful it is and on and on. But you know, our relationship wasn't established enough for me to jump on board with his reasonings, even though I knew he cared and meant well. I just couldn't build a relationship based on texting! So I guess you could chalk my negative take on texting as having a rather unusual way of being introduced to it. First impressions and all.

On the flip side, a relative of mine and her husband routinely text during the day while he's at work and she's busy with their kids. It works out wonderfully for them. But...they've also been married 15 years. BIG difference there.

I'm not completely against texting, but I think it's best for short communications...and with someone you already know very well. A quick "I love you," or "I'm running late," or "can you pick up the kids tonight; I'm stuck in a meeting" makes sense. Not paragraphs outlining your day, your plans, your musings on the world. Just doesn't work for me. And it's no way to grow a romance either! Know what? I'm worth a phone call.

And in case I didn't make my point earlier on: i h8 wen ppl tlk lyke dis.

Kthxbai.

An Interesting Slice of Limbo

Life served a big slice of Limbo Pie recently. No (paying) job. Pro bono work to help a friend’s new consulting business. Claiming weekly unemployment benefits. Trying this Blog. Lots of these things I have not ever dealt with or even TRIED until these past couple months.

I don’t know how I was in such a state of cluelessness or denial that I’d find a new (paying) job so quickly. But I did vow to myself, way back in late July, that I’d be ‘working by September.’ A bit optimistic perhaps, especially in these economic times!

Buuuut, I did in fact land a new job in September – literally right after Labor Day. And right now it’s a Labor of Love. Perhaps I should have been more specific with my wish! I'm actually very flattered to have been asked to help out this former colleague and friend of mine with his new business. We're even going to be speaking on a panel at a local college to a class on resume writing and interviewing techniques. I'm really looking forward to the experience - and I was honored to be asked to join him.

And my calendar page is about ready to flip...it’s almost October and officially autumn now. Ripe blackberries. Tall sunflowers. Gorgeous dahlias in bloom. Long shadows at high noon. The sunshine now fools me when I open the windows in the morning – a rush of crispy, cold air blows inside instead of warmth. It’s time to swap out the summer annuals on the deck for some cabbage, kale and winter pansies. Time to air out the cozy sweaters, scarves and gloves from the storage trunks and get them ready.

I’ve always enjoyed the rhythm of four truly distinct seasons here in the Pacific Northwest. And there’s something very sensual about changing seasons. Summer to Fall is like that brief moment on a roller coaster where you hang motionless, at the top (or in the seasons’ case at the Equinox) a split second before whooshing into something completely different. I can't control the whoosh of the change of the seasons but I hold on tight to every last bit of summer!

Today autumn strutted her stuff all loud and boisterous with colder temperatures, the universal hum and click of furnaces roaring back to life, angry black skies and loads of rain.

My Uncle recently visited here from out of town. Over lunch he talked about a favorite outdoor concert venue he and my Aunt enjoy – kind of like the Hollywood Bowl where everyone brings their own lawn chairs, food, even candelabras if so inclined – to just hang out and enjoy whatever music is happening that night. As he so aptly put it, “Sometimes it’s Pink Floyd and sometimes it’s Bach.” Ahhh…kinda sounds like the choices in my iPod too! And maybe life as well...sometimes things are all over the place and scattered wide.

For now, I'm enjoying doing my usual activities at times I never could when I was working 40+ hours a week. I went to the gym at 11:00am on a Thursday and didn't have to battle it out for a treadmill or for space in the stretching area. I had a hair coloring appointment in the early afternoon on a Tuesday [my colorist jokes she'll know when I'm officially back at work when I book a more typical Saturday appointment with her!] I'm typically getting up at 9:00am rather than 6:30am. And I forget which day of the week it is when I do, plus wake up to a much quieter Inbox and phone.

I also think about past life choices I made that went nowhere…kind of like those sneaky cul de sacs I wrote about earlier when I was walking around my new neighborhood. I didn’t know these choices were Dead Ends until I started down their paths. Nope, there was no warning signage. I didn’t know the “permanent” job with a nice bonus and stock options would dry up sooner than some of my prior “short term” contract jobs. I didn’t know (or, more admittedly, temporarily forgot after many years) that going on certain medication makes me gain weight overnight. I still battle that weight nearly two years later after quitting those meds. I didn't know the great guy I started dating would seem so right at yet at the same time be so distant and hard a relationship to cultivate due to so many things. I looked deep into his eyes and thought, felt, there was something there. But business travel and other non-travel baggage meant building something together was nearly impossible.

And then I stop and wonder why I think all of these things have to be boxed up and labeled as Dead Ends. They themselves may not have panned out, but they eventually led to where I am right now. And why do I have to label my life as "in limbo" just because I'm not working a traditional job? Why not just let this phase be known as my current life without having to qualify it as having underlying tones of dormancy or uncertainty?

Yes, THIS is where I'm supposed to be...right now...in late September 2009.

I just couldn't add any more fluff

How long does it take to say what you need to say? How long do you go on before you make your point? Do you even have a point to make when you open your mouth or start up at the keyboard?

Honestly, I’d be all over the place answering these questions, because I think it truly depends on the situation. If I’m meeting with the Executive Sponsor of a project I’m running to provide status updates, you can bet for darn sure I know the points I want to make and how to keep it brief. But if I’m off the clock and just hanging out with friends I may just start talking about things on my mind or maybe a vent or two. Something might be bothering me but it may take some talking it through before I figure out what it is. A point? Admittedly I might not even have one…I might just need to get something off my chest or just share how wonderful a day it's been! Oh, and look at those pretty flowers! And when I start writing, I may type a few sentences or paragraphs but just leave it as a draft for another time. Not sure where the ramblings are going just yet, if anywhere! They might get polished up and meet the public eye here one day or just sleep silent and dormant forever on the hard drive.

Some say in our ever faster-moving world that the handwritten word is a lost art. How often do you receive a genuine, handwritten letter in your snail mail? Email is much more prevalent for most of my written correspondence; I buy stamps maybe a couple times a year. Texting is convenient but it pretty much slaughters our language. Twitter? 140 characters only for your tweet, please, spaces included. Despite the convenience of spell-check, it isn’t foolproof. Anyone ever read things like, “have you lost you mind?” Or, “…I just can’t seem to loose these last 5 lbs.”? I’ve seen “lose” written as “loose” so many times the word almost looks misspelled to me when I type it correctly – and that’s a little frightening. Are we in that much of a hurry these days that we can’t take a couple extra milliseconds to double check our words before we hit Send, Update or Post? Yeah, typos are a pet peeve, but I've certainly cranked out a few.

I do admire brevity – those with the gift of clearly articulating their point with few words, while still being descriptive and not so dry and abrupt. And while my writing style here is still gelling, I do appreciate - at least in theory - the very basic method a journalist uses: put the hot content in first, and then more details in descending order of importance throughout. I had a job a few years ago where I had to write weekly project status reports. I wrote them with an assumption that people would maybe read the first few bullet points and not even get to the stuff at the end. [Sometimes as a joke I would add a random line item deeper into the report such as, "The chicken's in the oven." Or, "Clowns only eat soup on Sundays," just to see if anyone would notice! And someone did...once.]

A friend was recently tasked to assemble a document for her department at work. While the specifics weren't known to me, she kept me posted, jokingly, on how with the help of her manager and peers it quickly swelled to a jaw-dropping 80 pages. Eighty pages? Are we writing a phone book here? Are there any pictures or diagrams in it? Is anyone really going to sit down and read through 80 pages front to back? The way she described the collaborative process was (mutually) laughable. It was as if the document was now somehow perceived to be "better" just because it was longer in length.

I have to wonder...do more words make something more important?

More than likely that monster of a document will sit looking important in a binder on someone's shelf or just take up shared network space. Perhaps I am wrong and there is a clear plan on how to prune it down and keep it useful and current. It just astonished me how important its size became!

I've devoured long books in mere days because they were so intriguing I forgot to eat and sleep. But I admit I lean toward shorter reads: I enjoy magazine articles and skimming news headlines. I tend to use PowerPoint and write a few short bullet points instead of writing a Word document if I need to pitch an idea quickly to work leadership. When speaking with people over the phone or in person for my job search I continue to practice explaining about my experience and what I'm looking for succinctly. Then, if the listener wants to hear more I will add details. Have you ever asked someone what they do for a living and received a 10-minute monologue in return? Talk about eyes glazing over! Sure, if I'm passionate about something I can talk about it ad infinitum, especially if the person I'm speaking with is too - we're off and running with an engaging conversation! But if the listener isn't I try to keep it brief and avoid the blank stare. And then I'll ask THEM a question.

Now, back to the long vs. short document question. I first started thinking about this back in college, when the amount of reading and writing expected of us was far beyond anything I had tackled in high school. Come to think of it, that was probably the idea, actually! I didn't mind the extensive reading, but when it came time to writing papers my style was brief - briefer than a lot of my peers as I discovered. And, I felt a little small and inadequate sometimes. In one of my classes I remember reading the assigned chapters and writing up a 5-page paper, typed, double-spaced and one-sided as required. But when it came time to turn in our work, I glanced at the guy next to me and saw what looked like 15 or 20 pages. Perhaps my insecurities welled up a little too much, but I instantly thought his paper must be better written than mine. Or that maybe I'd missed an important point in our reading and therefore didn't cover it.

And then I realized...yes, I HAD read all we were supposed to read, and that I'd said all I needed to say and said it pretty darn well. I just couldn't add any more fluff to it. College was a couple decades ago, so I don't remember what that paper was about or the grade I received.

But I do remember that being the beginning of discovering what my writing style is, developing it and learning from others. And, the reminder to be comfortable in one's own skin, which, gladly, gets much easier over the years. I like that.

The Money Diet

The recession is officially over. Unemployment is a lagging indicator of tough economic times. Things are getting better out there, but recovery will be slow.

Really?

These are just a few things I hear in the daily buzz of news and casual chit chat. Things I think about as I file my weekly unemployment claim, speak with recruiters, search the job boards, network and update my spreadsheet log accordingly. Are things really getting better? When you’re unemployed those statements are a little hard to digest.

I attended a professional networking event a few days ago and shook hands and rubbed shoulders with hundreds and hundreds of others out of work just like me. Yep, we’re (Still? Still!) in a recession and yet just a few blocks away from our gathering a new, uber-luxurious shopping complex just opened its doors, giving our longstanding (fabulous) mall a run for its money (no pun intended). OH, the irony.

I bet most of us have felt the effects of our weak economy in one way or another (and if you’ve been unscathed, well, more power to you I suppose). I’ve definitely felt it and witnessed it around me. I’ve had friends out of work for months after layoffs before finding other jobs. Friends who are employed but business is so slow they feel unemployed. I checked a 401(k) balance a few months ago and wished I hadn’t. My property tax postcard arrived in the mail and my home value was several percentage points lower than last time. My hair colorist spotted a regular client buying boxed hair color in a drugstore and when their eyes met the client was horribly embarrassed. And, sadly, a friend’s condo went into foreclosure earlier this year.

Even job pay rates are less now. Employers know they can get good talent for less than they used to given the high number of job seekers out there. I spoke with a recruiter about my recent job history and told her the rate I was paid for a contract gig a few years ago. We shared a mutual chuckle: “…yep, that rate is SOOOO 2006.”

So while I’ve been out of work it’s been a good time to sit down and re-evaluate my spending. Hence, THE MONEY DIET. Frugality is the new Black! [Where did I ever hear/read that - I love it.]

Let’s face it: I love to shop and as I’ve mentioned before a lot of my “fun” spending goes towards accessories (shoes, handbags, sunglasses, etc). And I’ve always justified purchases by making sure they fill two big requirements: 1) Practical and 2) Paid For.

Practical simply means that it’s got to work with multiple outfits (with very rare exceptions, such as cocktail/evening wear). Most of my shoes and handbags are either black or dark brown and go with nearly all of my clothing. I invest in great boots because I can wear them three seasons of the year here (and, on the flip side, I skimp on shorts and t-shirts). Awhile back I upgraded my college-staple outerwear with two amazing 100% camel hair coats (a classic pea coat and a full length topper) that combined cost far more than my rent at the time (faint!). But over 15 years later, they still hang proud in my coat closet and have held up amazingly well! I also stock up on cashmere sweaters when they go on sale off-season. Lightweight knits work across the seasons here too. I dropped 4 figures on a gorgeous watch when I celebrated a major birthday. But I wear it every single day....and the same with a ring I splurged on 10 years ago in St. Thomas. If you're going to drop serious cash on something, wear it and use it! I've never understood things like, "Oh my God, I just spent $1500 on a new purse and I'm too scared to carry it!" Yes, I have read things like that. My advice? Return it!

Paid For means just that: pay cash, or if paying by credit card pay it off before the interest charge kicks in. As a result, I’ve got one hard-working debit card!

But when the dollars aren’t rolling in like they used to, it’s time to get real and cut way back on spending. And when push comes to shove, even if something is purchased with cash instead of on credit, it’s still money gone from the checking account. I don’t NEED another pair of black boots as much as I salivate over what I see in stores and in catalogues. I don’t NEED to spend $30 on department store mascara when a $10 one from the drugstore will likely be just as great. I don’t NEED to spend excessive amounts on shampoos or conditioners either (yes, this is another admitted weakness I am battling). Hell, once the makeup’s on your face and the conditioner is rinsed out of your hair, no one – I guarantee – is going to come up and say, “Oh my God…you must be wearing Chanel mascara, and that Kerastase conditioner makes your hair so shiny!” Nope! They’ll simply notice (hopefully), nice looking makeup and hair.

So, yes, I’m on a Money Diet. I’m re-evaluating everything and figuring out ways to cut back while not depriving myself of things I enjoy. Food? The term “Brand Down” popped up on a blog post a few days ago, which I’d never heard of. This means to check out the generic or store brand versions of food to save a little. Going out to eat? This is an absolute joy to me and I couldn’t possibly imagine cutting it 100% out of my life. I now have fun finding places with great happy hour and keep it to just one drink. That’s probably a good thing anyway. And happy hour food is a wonderful light dinner! I canceled my membership in a monthly Wine Club and will save myself hundreds of dollars a year as a result. When cleaning out closets (another productive activity while out of work) I found a few nicer things to put on consignment. Presto - a few hundred bucks in commissions a few weeks later!

I plowed through a large stack of snail mail last week and discovered a thick, elegant and glossy invitation from that new luxurious shopping complex I mentioned earlier: “We are pleased to announce the opening of our new boutique at _____." Well, boutique, I am pleased to announce I may grace you with my presence but I will be looking and drooling, not purchasing.

I'm on a Money Diet, after all.

And then Dr. Ruth walked into the bar

I consider myself an amateur-ish world traveler. Although I haven’t been out of the country for nearly 10 years since my last trip to the Caribbean, I’ve logged a few interesting places in my lifetime. The beaches of Trinidad, the bustling markets of Budapest, delightful sidewalk cafes in Ljubljana (Slovenia), a week in a Tokyo suburb with time for bike commuting, the sensuality and awe of Venice and the bright sun and abacus-wielding merchants in Uzbekistan to name a few.

What was late to cross off the list? New York City. How in the hell did I not visit NYC until 2004? Not even once on a flight stopover! The closest I came was the spring of 2000 when a friend and I caught a redeye to Newark on the way to Ft. Lauderdale for a cruise. I still remember being all bleary-eyed from that cross country flight (I have yet to discover how to sleep soundly on planes) but I vividly remember walking through the terminal and witnessing the glow of the early morning sky, the River and the silhouettes of the Twin Towers. [After watching the horror of 9/11/2001 live on TV as so many of us did, I closed my eyes and remembered that serene sunrise].

The company I used to work for had a long-standing relationship with our client and we were constantly looking for ways to rejuvenate and revitalize our service offerings and how we were going about our day-to-day business with them. Among other things, we decided to really step it up and conduct one of our usual business reviews by hosting it at our US corporation headquarters in Midtown Manhattan (a building on East 53rd ST to be exact).

So, in the Spring of 2004 we jetted off to NYC for a short stint, about 10 of us total. We lucked out with gorgeous sunny weather – perfect for walking and exploring. I was absolutely giddy and oozing excitement. Man-hat-tan....what some call the Center of the Universe! People come from all over the world to find or re-invent themselves, to find success, love...everything one could possibly want and more can be found here!

I knew theoretically that space was a premium, but got a huge taste of it when first stepping into my hotel room. My God, when I opened my suitcase on the floor (I had no other choice except for the bed), I couldn’t walk around my bedroom/living area!

We were pumped full of adrenaline when we arrived, so we put on our walking shoes and headed up to Central Park. If you haven’t yet walked through Central Park, add this to your Bucket List, for there is nothing else quite like it. We took pictures, admired the scenery, and gawked at the to-die-for apartments overlooking the Park (how many millions and millions for a view like that, we wondered?).

After dinner at an incredible steakhouse (the name of which escapes me now unfortunately), we asked our server for a tip on where to grab a drink nearby. Heck, we were still on Pacific coast time and not quite ready to turn in yet (not that any locals were either!).

His recommendation? P. J. Clarke’s: 915 Third Avenue at 55th Street. OK! This is a 125 year old pub/institution of sorts, where Frank Sinatra supposedly "owned" his own table, Buddy Holly proposed to his wife – oh, and Nat King Cole proclaimed it serves up the “Cadillac of cheeseburgers”. A heavy hitter hot spot for decades.

I am not shy, so walking into a bar, grabbing a drink and making random chit chat with people is kind of like breathing to me, but boy did I feel out of place once we walked in. P. J. Clarke’s was awash in a sea of dark clothing – midtown Manhattan uniform! Here I was still in my traveling clothes – khaki pants, walking shoes, lightweight striped sweater and a dark denim jean jacket. Yikes, I probably looked like I'd just gotten off work at the Gap or something, ha! M and I got our drinks, headed to the jukebox to pick out a few cool Sinatra tunes and then started mingling.

We were approached by two gentlemen in de rigueur dark suits. They immediately asked if we were “with those two guys,” meaning our two (male) co-workers who were now at some other part of the bar. M and I laughed and said yes we are and that they are co-workers. We continued to chat with them and then realized after awhile they were getting a little bit annoyed that we didn’t know who they were!

Turns out one was a local TV news anchor and another was some sort of local film critic. Too funny…how are a couple of girls from the other side of the country supposed to know this?

And then Dr. Ruth walked into the bar. I know it sounds like a punchline but it could not be truer than true! She immediately recognized the two guys M and I were speaking with and greeted them. Boy I wish I’d had a question ready to ask her! And for the record, she looks exactly the same in person as she does on TV.

Yes, my friends, this was my first night in NYC. Did we actually get any work done on this trip? We sure did, and our client was very impressed with our presentations. But it's the funny side stuff that is far more interesting: wandering the streets looking for something that is "just a few more blocks away," a screaming match with a local getting a cab during rush hour, a sudden downpour one night in Times Square (hence the blurry photo) or hanging on for dear life with a crazy cab driver from Bangladesh whom we told, "just take us to the Village."

We even got kicked out of a corner area of our hotel lounge one night because the server told us, "someone has a reservation here." Keep in mind it was 1:00am on a Wednesday. Who has midweek reservations at 1:00am in a hotel lounge? Sure enough, a P. Diddy lookalike showed up with two supermodel-ish women and took over our spot.

I guarantee that would never happen in my hometown.