After this weekend's San Diego Comic Con, I am compelled to write a little ditty about the complete lackadaisical way that people deal with introductions. I am not talking about social intros in the sense of you are hanging out with some people and a random friend of yours drops by. Oops... No! I am talking about networking. The first rule I learned in business is that beware the people who keep their contacts secret. Why? These people often feel that it makes them special or elite to have these contacts, and that you may do them favors in order to obtain these contacts. They may feel insecure that you might steer the contact away from them, or they may just be a self centered person that doesn't realize how networking 'works'. Check out this article that talks about networking- http://jobcircle.com/blog/?p=2313
The purpose at something like conventions for the professional is to see what is out there, to meet people that you normally don't have a chance to interact with, and to market yourself to fans and other professionals in your industry. However, as the main problem with the comic industry has been and will always be, no one seems to view it like a business. Now that it has gotten some lifeblood pumped into it because Hollywood has come knocking at its doors for material and inspiration, the comic book business has become another league of secret keepers. The barriers to entry have surged to an all time high because now comic companies are looking to collaborate with actors and established novelists for material instead of those of us who have been knocking for years trying to get in. But I digress...
At a professional event, networking is always the goal. So when you are standing with someone, and someone else walks up that you don't know, it is the obligation of the person you are speaking with to break from the conversation, greet the new person and then introduce you to them. Here's a sample script:
Jim: Hi Bob, this is Jane. Jane is a writer and filmmaker. To Jane: Bob is an artist and writer, and he works with so and so.
Jane: Hi Bob, pleasure to meet you. Here is my card. I would love to see your work.
Bob: Hi Jane, nice to meet you. Here is my card, let's chat sometime.
Hands have been shaken, greetings all around, etc. This is a proper 'informal' business introduction. Believe me if you ask Syndi Seid, a professional etiquette instructor, this would not even pass her test. Yet, for some reason, this simple form was horribly defective during SDCC this year. There was lots of sidestepping, random comments,and first names thrown about but very little in the way of actual introductions. What has happened to professionalism? If you know that someone could benefit from an introduction, what is the harm? It's not like you are pandering, or begging. For instance, I know a lot of people in the music industry. I, however, have no aspirations to be in the music business. Then say Ted wants to be a singer, and I know a producer, can you give me one good reason that I shouldn't introduce them? How does it hurt me to help them? It doesn't, but it does make me a reliable contact, and in the future, if I need a song written for a movie I am making, I very well might be able to call on Ted to write that song for me. It could happen.
Networking is not about seeing how many contacts you can store up to make yourself feel important, and part of networking is being able to bring people together that might be able to work together or with you at some point in your career. So without the proper introductions this cannot happen and you are slighting yourself as much as you are the person standing next to you that you left out in the cold because of your lack of manners.
Great article about the altruism of networking: http://www.chichiokezie.com/2010_08_01_archive.html Good stuff!
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Monday, May 23, 2011
Totes to Grocery Shop- Why?
I am not a super dooper eco friendly person, as I forget to recycle a lot and I do buy books like they are going out of style. However, there is one thing that I feel is of utmost importance to use recyclable grocery bags to grocery shop. Reason number one- They on average carry more groceries in one bag than a plastic bag can, and they have very nice handles unlike paper bags. Both paper and plastic tend to snap. Also, for women who are single or have a useless boyfriend, you either have to make a dozen trips to the car, or you get nasty cutting marks on your arms as you try to carry all the bags inside at once, while you are fiddling with your keys, something always falls,or spills etc. Reason number two- they are inexpensive, handy when you need them, can be folded into your already over-sized purse, and can even be very very adorable. Reason number three- you are saving the lives of animals, reducing landfill, and reducing clutter in your own home. I on average buy enough groceries that about 10-12 plastic bags are required. When I remember to bring my bags, which I usually keep in the back of my car, minus the one I always keep in my purse, I end up with three bags. Three bags full of the same groceries that took 10-12 plastic bags to bring home. Not to mention some of the bags are usually double bagged for strength. So that would be say 14- 16 bags total. Again, I still only use 3-4 of the reusable bags. If everyone was smart, and remembered to bring their bags, or purchased at least one everytime they shopped, we could reduce the need for the plastic bag! This would mean that grocery stores and shopping centers would need to buy less, which would lower their overhead. Which would what, my friends? Lower the cost of foooooooood!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So next time you shop, think about this. Now here is the big issues, how to sell this to guys... because men don't carry purses to tuck them into, they might carry backpacks, but that is rare in the adult male, and they don't tend to want to carry anything before there is a need to carry it... i.e. bringing in a bunch of bags before they shop. How do we encourage men to use reusable shopping totes? Any ideas?
Friday, May 20, 2011
Shopping Carts
In this age of convenience, drive-thrus, and internet shopping, texting, emails, etc. - we are all obsessed with things being easy. One would think that I would be this type of person since 80% of my life is internet based. I shop online, I read online, I watch television and movies online, I even buy my groceries online. Yet, because my daughter has auditions that take me all over, sometimes a bit of whimsy catches me and I feel like walking into a grocery or other store to peruse the aisles and get a little bit of shopping done- to kill two birds with one stone so to speak. I like to make sure that I don't waste gas to just run her to an audition. So what is my point?
As I was at the Ralph's (a chain in Los Angeles), and as I was blissfully walking out having prided myself of great purchases and a new little pot of Campanulas when after unloading my shopping bags (re-useable) into my trunk, I turned to find the spot to return my cart. Searching and searching, I spotted the designated corral located a good 100-150 feet from where I was standing. Scouting the parking lot for any activity (paranoid mom always looking around for child abductors), I walked briskly to the area, noticing that there were abandoned carts all over the parking lot, some that stood a mere 20 feet or less from the corral. This caused me to be a little peeved. Why are people so lazy that they can't spare the 30 seconds to take their cart back to the appropriate place? One wants the convenience to shop with a nice rolling basket, relieving the need to balance food in one's arms (Which might be a good idea! It would keep people from buying more food than they need and give their flabby arms a little workout!) , and the ease of rolling it out to another vehicle to transport it easily home. Yet, they cannot even walk to put the carts back! Are we in such a hurry that a simple walk is too time consuming? These same people I bet bitch because there is an abandoned cart in a parking space that they wanted to use. Those same people would then go into the store and complain to the manager or staffer that the carts are not being brought in by them which inconvenienced them. As I drove home, another maddening part of the equation... shopping carts strewn all over the sidewalks, alleyways, and doorsteps. People that choose to walk and then steal the shopping carts to take their groceries home. Another crime of gluttony and sloth, which drives the bottom line for a grocery store up which ends up filtering into the price of groceries. When operating costs go up, it reflects in the price points for food, along with other factors of course. So I guess what I am saying here, is: PEOPLE PUT YOUR CARTS BACK, DON'T BE LAZY!
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Ammunition
One thing that has always bothered me about friends and boyfriends is that when you get close to them, divulge your life's woes to them, or talk about the tragedies in your life, et cetera... that these are what they use as ammunition against you in a fight.
If you mentioned that you don't have a lot of friends, a point of compassionate plea, they turn it on you in a fight and say: "Well, You don't have any friends, that's why!" or something to that effect. Maybe if you tell someone that you are a loner, but you are reaching out to them for companionship, when they don't call you for a week or months, they respond: "Well you said you were a loner, I figured it wouldn't bother you." One of the best I have heard is when you talk about your past relationships and they throw those things up in your face. "No wonder he hit you."
Then there is your character. I have noticed that the favorite thing that people like to do in a fight or disagreement is to attack your character, call you names. Very schoolyard of them.
Come on people, when you have a disagreement, and things outside of the disagreement filter into the conversation, that is a clear sign that 1) you don't fight fair 2) you have other issues that are causing this issue to be exacerbated and 3) that you don't know how to communicate.
All of us have slip ups and may try to one up each other in an emotional fight. But when one person is backpedaling, rolling their eyes, and saying "okay whatever!" just to end the conversation; it is clear that communication is not being done. The person has tuned you out. The situation is not resolved. This is a classic case of avoidant personality disorder. Instead of dealing with the situation, trying to hear both sides, and then set up a rational plan to address the problem or issue, you get a door slammed in your face, they run away, hide behind distance or closed doors, or hell even work. So it sits and festers and it's hard to go back to a trusting situation at that point.
Here's the deal, if you can't come to a solution, step up and someone say, "Lets take some time to think about it." AND THINK ABOUT IT. Don't go complain to your friends or parents, because they don't know all sides of the story. Being an adult is a beautiful thing because you don't have to pout or cry or throw a tantrum because you don't know how to express yourself. You can ask questions, you can use logic, and you can solve problems responsibly and with compromise. Now if only people would use these gifts.
Never use someone's weaknesses against them unless you are absolutely sure that you want them as an enemy. Don't use your ammunition.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
On being a loner
The individual has always had to struggle to keep from being overwhelmed by the tribe. If you try it, you will be lonely often, and sometimes frightened. But no price is too high to pay for the privilege of owning yourself (Nietzsche).
I don't remember when exactly I became a loner. Maybe it was in elementary school when I finished my assignments and tests ahead of the other children and was the first to play with the toys. Maybe it was after the constant moving during those years as well. Making new friends was never hard, but keeping them was difficult for some reason. It could have been that my sister detested my existence and so I was left to play for hours with stuffed animals as my dearest friends. I was always one to want that singular best friend, that one girl or guy that I did everything with. Yet, everyone around me prized the value of large social circles. So my world eventually moved from the longing to play with others to delving into the stories that people created between the covers of a book. Those stories became my best friends, they never shunned me; always waiting patiently for me at the end of a school day. They stood staring at me in the first light of morning and were gentle in their closing as I fell to sleep to their words.
Books became the refuge for everything. They became my teachers, my mother, my father, my family, and my lovers. They taught me the lessons of life, they never minded the tears that fell upon their breasts, and they never once made fun of me for knowing what the next sentence would be. The hours I spent wrapped up in some book were more precious to me than any encounter with the frail and changeable humans that were my supposed peers. As I became a writer, I began to write the world the way I wished it was for me. Making lovely gestures on behalf of men, and creating daring and complex women who weren't afraid to put it all on the line. Then came the devotion to music...Oh! The worlds my mind would create in the symphonies and rhythms. The melodies that took me along on rainbows and lasers to places far away, with winds changing the colors in the trees and the skies becoming trains to the next station of my imagination.
Somewhere in this, as I struggled to stay with my feet grounded in the realities of life, the begging for love and affection from those around me, the waiting for people to show their genuine selves, the bold and brave and complex characters that I knew had to be inside those physical shells they walk around in... but they never came. I tried to love the simplicity, but they never returned it by loving my complexity.
After numerous failed relationships in both the romantic and friendship arenas, I retreated more and more into my own psyche. Flushing out with each failure what my part must have been, what my flaws were, and ultimately coming to the conclusion that I must be this horrible monstrous being. That I was the common denominator in all these situations, and because each ending of a connection was the same rhythmic pantomime by the other person, the consistency of disappointment had to be my fault. So further each betrayal sent me into the solitude. In that solitude, I discovered more and more, that I have really been alone all my life, and that my connections to others were random and fleeting. That people liked to be my friend at a distance, but to really commit to a great friendship with me took too much thought and consideration on their part, and way too much effort. That trying to get to know me proved difficult and too lengthy a process. Better for them to assume that they know parts of me, and call on those parts from time to time, but never ever embrace the whole. I was and am just too much.
And so as I sit here on this rainy (absolutely lovely) day in Los Angeles, I find comfort in the fact that I am after all these years embracing that I am a loner. A lone wolf, a dragon in her den, and solitary practitioner who can come out of her shell when needed but feels best curled up in her cavern watching the world out of the window after so many years of standing outside the window looking in wishing I was asked to dance. What better time in my life as a writer than to embrace a writer's way... the path of solitude and reflection? To admit, I love being free, and alone.
You think that I am impoverishing myself withdrawing from men, but in my solitude I have woven for myself a silken web or chrysalis, and, nymph-like, shall ere long burst forth a more perfect creature, fitted for a higher society. –Henry David Thoreau, journal, February 8, 1857
I don't remember when exactly I became a loner. Maybe it was in elementary school when I finished my assignments and tests ahead of the other children and was the first to play with the toys. Maybe it was after the constant moving during those years as well. Making new friends was never hard, but keeping them was difficult for some reason. It could have been that my sister detested my existence and so I was left to play for hours with stuffed animals as my dearest friends. I was always one to want that singular best friend, that one girl or guy that I did everything with. Yet, everyone around me prized the value of large social circles. So my world eventually moved from the longing to play with others to delving into the stories that people created between the covers of a book. Those stories became my best friends, they never shunned me; always waiting patiently for me at the end of a school day. They stood staring at me in the first light of morning and were gentle in their closing as I fell to sleep to their words.
Books became the refuge for everything. They became my teachers, my mother, my father, my family, and my lovers. They taught me the lessons of life, they never minded the tears that fell upon their breasts, and they never once made fun of me for knowing what the next sentence would be. The hours I spent wrapped up in some book were more precious to me than any encounter with the frail and changeable humans that were my supposed peers. As I became a writer, I began to write the world the way I wished it was for me. Making lovely gestures on behalf of men, and creating daring and complex women who weren't afraid to put it all on the line. Then came the devotion to music...Oh! The worlds my mind would create in the symphonies and rhythms. The melodies that took me along on rainbows and lasers to places far away, with winds changing the colors in the trees and the skies becoming trains to the next station of my imagination.
Somewhere in this, as I struggled to stay with my feet grounded in the realities of life, the begging for love and affection from those around me, the waiting for people to show their genuine selves, the bold and brave and complex characters that I knew had to be inside those physical shells they walk around in... but they never came. I tried to love the simplicity, but they never returned it by loving my complexity.
After numerous failed relationships in both the romantic and friendship arenas, I retreated more and more into my own psyche. Flushing out with each failure what my part must have been, what my flaws were, and ultimately coming to the conclusion that I must be this horrible monstrous being. That I was the common denominator in all these situations, and because each ending of a connection was the same rhythmic pantomime by the other person, the consistency of disappointment had to be my fault. So further each betrayal sent me into the solitude. In that solitude, I discovered more and more, that I have really been alone all my life, and that my connections to others were random and fleeting. That people liked to be my friend at a distance, but to really commit to a great friendship with me took too much thought and consideration on their part, and way too much effort. That trying to get to know me proved difficult and too lengthy a process. Better for them to assume that they know parts of me, and call on those parts from time to time, but never ever embrace the whole. I was and am just too much.
And so as I sit here on this rainy (absolutely lovely) day in Los Angeles, I find comfort in the fact that I am after all these years embracing that I am a loner. A lone wolf, a dragon in her den, and solitary practitioner who can come out of her shell when needed but feels best curled up in her cavern watching the world out of the window after so many years of standing outside the window looking in wishing I was asked to dance. What better time in my life as a writer than to embrace a writer's way... the path of solitude and reflection? To admit, I love being free, and alone.
You think that I am impoverishing myself withdrawing from men, but in my solitude I have woven for myself a silken web or chrysalis, and, nymph-like, shall ere long burst forth a more perfect creature, fitted for a higher society. –Henry David Thoreau, journal, February 8, 1857
Friday, August 20, 2010
GIRL TALK
Okay, so I have a question for all you ladies out there, you know who you are, the ones who gather in corners at a bar or restaurant, or even your homes and bash your men to each other. Here is my grand question to you... why? If you aren't happy, or if you don't trust him, then why are you with him? Does blabbing to your girlfriends about his shortcomings make you feel good? Do you think that your friends now admire you for sticking it out with a loser, or do you do this to cry out for pity and sympathy like you are suffering these indignations because you are so nice? Guess what? It doesn't do anything but demean your relationship and your man, and makes you look like an idiot.
I was introduced to a woman who I had already had some preconceived notions about. I, however, for the sake of my beloved, decided to entertain a conversation with this person. The entire time not only was she bashing her boyfriend but she was also bashing mine. I tried as politely as I could to set her straight but she seemed quite happy to tell me all of her boyfriend's misgivings and all their trials and hardships. Things that if I was having the same issues with my boyfriend I would never disclose to a stranger. I was quite annoyed by this. I know we all have issues with our loved ones from time to time but I only confide in my closest friends and also attribute what things I have done or am at fault for as well. This however, is just not called for. What it really made me realize is...
I don't want to be with someone that I cannot gush over to my friends about. I don't want to talk bad about the person I am with. I don't want people to feel sorry for me for suffering some sort of relationship martyrdom. I want to be happy, to let others know I am happy, and to show that I love and respect my partner. Anything else, well it's for the birds.
Most relationships are a direct reflection of how the two people perceive themselves. I love myself, I love my boyfriend, therefore- despite random issues likes miscommunications and little tiffs here and there- I LOVE MY RELATIONSHIP.
So my advice to you females out there who love to bash your beau to your gals, find something new to talk about.
I was introduced to a woman who I had already had some preconceived notions about. I, however, for the sake of my beloved, decided to entertain a conversation with this person. The entire time not only was she bashing her boyfriend but she was also bashing mine. I tried as politely as I could to set her straight but she seemed quite happy to tell me all of her boyfriend's misgivings and all their trials and hardships. Things that if I was having the same issues with my boyfriend I would never disclose to a stranger. I was quite annoyed by this. I know we all have issues with our loved ones from time to time but I only confide in my closest friends and also attribute what things I have done or am at fault for as well. This however, is just not called for. What it really made me realize is...
I don't want to be with someone that I cannot gush over to my friends about. I don't want to talk bad about the person I am with. I don't want people to feel sorry for me for suffering some sort of relationship martyrdom. I want to be happy, to let others know I am happy, and to show that I love and respect my partner. Anything else, well it's for the birds.
Most relationships are a direct reflection of how the two people perceive themselves. I love myself, I love my boyfriend, therefore- despite random issues likes miscommunications and little tiffs here and there- I LOVE MY RELATIONSHIP.
So my advice to you females out there who love to bash your beau to your gals, find something new to talk about.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Rain Rain Go Away, NO wait... STAY!
Why do people in Los Angeles (not metro areas of course) have an umbrella? It rains- at best- once every few months, and then rarely graduates to a downpour.
As I was strolling downtown LA today, with everyone popping their umbrellas out for the misting that was occurring, I was very proud that I fear not mother nature's weeping and walked as if it was a normal sunshine laden day. Why do humans fear rain so much? Yes, expensive clothes, or getting wet might be an issue, especially here in the land of labels. However, the detesting for being out in the rain is a common thing in our society. Rain is often depicted in movies as a cause for a shiver, and a mother warns of catching a cold. Scientists and doctors laugh affectionately at these misnomers. Then, there of course is the fact that the first hour or so of rain in Los Angeles is probably acidic or toxic from all the smog. Regardless, I say don't pop that umbrella right away. Get some water on that face, who cares if it leaves tracks in your inch thick foundation, or forms droplets on your mysteriously shaped facial hair? Walk around in it, dance in it, hell- swing around a light pole if you dare! I prefer to puddle stomp with my 6 year old, and of course get all drenched as we run through the streets singing "Tomorrow" from ANNIE (the movie/musical). There is such an air of excitement dashing in from the street to the safety of a dry building lobby dripping wet, and burst forth through the door of your sanctuary, strip off your wet clothes and fall down in a fit of laughter at the fun of it!
How can you beat the rhythmic sound of the rain on the windowpane? How can you not turn off your television and linger on the couch with a great book while the world around you takes a bath? Oh, the rain on a tin roof or a metal fire escape!! The syncopated beats upon odd objects that are normally silent now get a chance to contribute to the orchestra of sounds. Rain, Rain... don't fret those who shield themselves from you, come again, and sooth me into sleep.
As I was strolling downtown LA today, with everyone popping their umbrellas out for the misting that was occurring, I was very proud that I fear not mother nature's weeping and walked as if it was a normal sunshine laden day. Why do humans fear rain so much? Yes, expensive clothes, or getting wet might be an issue, especially here in the land of labels. However, the detesting for being out in the rain is a common thing in our society. Rain is often depicted in movies as a cause for a shiver, and a mother warns of catching a cold. Scientists and doctors laugh affectionately at these misnomers. Then, there of course is the fact that the first hour or so of rain in Los Angeles is probably acidic or toxic from all the smog. Regardless, I say don't pop that umbrella right away. Get some water on that face, who cares if it leaves tracks in your inch thick foundation, or forms droplets on your mysteriously shaped facial hair? Walk around in it, dance in it, hell- swing around a light pole if you dare! I prefer to puddle stomp with my 6 year old, and of course get all drenched as we run through the streets singing "Tomorrow" from ANNIE (the movie/musical). There is such an air of excitement dashing in from the street to the safety of a dry building lobby dripping wet, and burst forth through the door of your sanctuary, strip off your wet clothes and fall down in a fit of laughter at the fun of it!
How can you beat the rhythmic sound of the rain on the windowpane? How can you not turn off your television and linger on the couch with a great book while the world around you takes a bath? Oh, the rain on a tin roof or a metal fire escape!! The syncopated beats upon odd objects that are normally silent now get a chance to contribute to the orchestra of sounds. Rain, Rain... don't fret those who shield themselves from you, come again, and sooth me into sleep.
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