Category Archives: Blah blah blah

I said farewell to a sassy mentor

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I said farewell to a sassy mentor

I’ve had several mentors in my life thus far, and all of them have a special place in my sassy heart.  I can’t imagine the person I would be if they hadn’t taken time to help me understand my life, my career, and my world in the way that they did.  Though they have all been memorable, I feel as though I was part of a privileged secret society while working with my current mentor.  When she recently announced that she would be retiring, she said it so matter-of-factly that I just jotted it down on my task list in our regular weekly meeting.  It wasn’t until I started writing a farewell speech to her that I understood the magnitude of her decision.  My eyes suddenly sprang a leak I wasn’t expecting (which got me the aisle seat on the plane from a sympathetic businessman, but totally screwed up my mascara).

There’s no good way to say goodbye to someone who has had such a profound impact on my career.  It seems impossible, and honestly, I’m still in denial.  She’s legendary.  She cares about people, demands common sense, and she doesn’t suffer fools.  She’ll tell you in a heartbeat if you’re wrong, but in a way that only she can, she makes you feel somehow better for hearing it.  And she’ll follow it up with, “but what the hell do I know?” to leave you enough room to draw your own conclusion.  And even if she shuts you down, she’s just as likely to be taking up a fund from the rest of the team for your sick pet after the meeting.  It’s so rare to find such an equal combination of competence and empathy.

I’ll never forget the very first conversation I had with her after she was told we would be working together.  I had only been in meetings with her as an observer – as someone who watched people’s faces sort of contort in fear when she disagreed and shut something down.  I knew I’d have to summon my inner cheerleader to psych myself up for this call.  “I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and dammit, I’ll make her like me!”

So I found an empty office, took a deep breath, dialed her number and after saying hello, her very first words to me were, “It will never work.  Never.  This is insane.”  (Gasp!) I know now that the words were in reference to my hefty workload, not to her confidence in my abilities, but nevertheless, my cheerleader had a big black eye.  From that day forward, I knew I wanted to earn her trust and respect, and if I could do that, I was pretty sure I had found the unicorn of mentors.

After several years of working closely with her, traveling to conferences and sales meetings, and seeing some remarkable successes and working through some notable trials, I’ve learned more from her than she knows and more than she’ll rightfully take credit for.  I thank her for being tough, fair, irreverent, (usually) right, and most of all, for being my very own cheerleader (sans black eye).  Thank you for everything you’ve done for me and for so many others throughout your career.  Screw the mascara – this post is worth it.

I turned up the air conditioning

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I turned up the air conditioning

At the risk of making an obvious observation in Houston, Texas in August; it’s hot.  Actually, that may be generous.  It’s more like the pits of hell have opened up and let loose the biggest rinadad morgue scorpion chile pepper belch the Earth has ever experienced and blew it over a hot lake of steaming lava.  [Note: thanks Google for confirming the hottest pepper ever found, circa 2013.]

When I came to Houston from California a couple of years ago, I showed up just in time for the summer weather festivities.  This is a place where one air conditioner is just amusing.  [“Oh, aren’t you cute!  One little air conditioner to keep your left toe cool – you’re such a dear.”]  People have two, TWO full-sized air conditioners just in case anything happens to one of them.  Now I’m not an engineering expert, but I’m pretty sure if we need that much help making the air work for us for half of the year, there’s something wrong.  On the other hand, it gives me great confidence in our exploration of Mars.  Yes, I’m quite certain that Houston is a testing ground for inhabiting spaces in which we just shouldn’t be breathing things.

Let’s also take note of necessary grooming modifications this time of year.  I’m currently looking for a support group for long hair.  Texans have a reputation for “big hair” and I’m pretty sure it’s not their fault.  In our defense, spraying our hair so that it could double as a a roll of bubble-wrap is really the only way to look halfway normal until you get to the car.  After that, all bets are off.  Folks, this is a town where they actually have a “haircast”  (for those of you who aren’t familiar, it’s a forecast just for your hair) every morning so you know if you’re about to have a good hair day or a bad hair day.  While this is amusing, it’s also useless.  If it’s June, July, August, September, or early October, you’re going to have a bad hair day.  In my support group, we’ll discuss up-dos that don’t require an advanced underwater basket weaving degree.

For now, I’m rolling up my hair into a lackluster bun and dreaming about the day in October when I’ll let my hair down, Rapunzel-style to find out how long it’s gotten so that I can dry it, curl it, spray it, and find a hot date to pop the crap out of it, bubble-wrap style.

Yep – this is a thing now.

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AHHHHH!  Ooh.  Here’s the thing: I have a voice.  Not just a “wow she can sing” kind of voice (which I’m thankful to say I can), but a point of view.  Or rather, a “point of voice,” if you will.  I’ve spent much of my life waiting for others to speak up.  At work, in my personal life, at jury duty, when people cut in line at the grocery store, pretty much everywhere.  I think I just cared far too much what other people would say or think about me.  Then this thing happened.  I found a few kick-ass women in my life who showed me that my voice is (gasp) valid.  Why it took so many women telling me the same thing for so long, well – I’ll chalk that up to just being a stubborn ass much of the time.

Apologies in advance for embarrassing or offending anyone, though I’ll protect those I’m talking about with elaborate and fascinating backstories and false names to throw you off the scent.  And to my poor mother: God knows how you put up with much of what I do, but hey, you brought me here, so I’m doing the best I can.  Surely nothing surprises you by now.  Much love.

Thus, here I am with stories to tell and a community that I really want to build if it resonates with others.  We’re not alone; I know there are many other smart, funny, unique women out there with equally entertaining stories to tell.  So let’s laugh, share, and have some fun, because as I often say, “Sassy, party of one…your table’s ready.”