[Source: Mashable via BlueKai]

According to this year’s Super Bowl Advertising Infographic I snagged from Mashable, it seems to advertisers that the typical Super Bowl viewer is male, golfers, owners of SUVs, in sales, into sci-fi movies, are husbands, and in the market for Kindles, Sony and Vizio brands. Let’s see, and I am exactly none of these things. And you know what? It really sucks being overlooked like this. I have money too (well, I will have money soon) but it doesn’t feel like that matters. According to the subject matter of the ads, I have no buying power (okay, I don’t at the moment but will by next month).  But that the fact that I do have buying power is simply inconsequential. WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH ALL THIS MONEY?!

Look, I know that the majority of Super Bowl viewers are in fact male (last year they accounted for 54% but even that gap is slowly evening to an even split), but it would be so nice to have a couple of commercials that don’t use provocatively dressed women to sell beer, cars, or web services.  Are women not buying cars? Or beer? Or Doritos? Or interested in fiscal independence? You  know what women get?

John Stamos and yogurt. YOGURT.

Really advertisers? You think the only thing I could really care about is yogurt? And please don’t get me started on the farce that is the “New Adventures of Old Light Brown M & M.”

It’s time that brands and advertisers stop ignoring half of the population to shill their products during the biggest commercial event of the year. It’s not fair to barely be pandered to during the rest of the year, only to be systematically ignored on the largest platform known to business. I’m good enough to spend thousands of dollars on but not millions? That’s not a message you want to send to your potential customers.

I’m hopeful that, with the increased female viewership, brands and advertisers will finally wise up and begin to create commercials that appeal to both genders.

Because really, no one should be subjected to the nonsense that is GoDaddy.

Yeah, that would not have been good.

So I spent my days wading through job postings, stressing over making my cover letter as interesting and unique as possible, searching LinkedIn to try to find who would be receiving my application (you know, to personalize my cover letter. Yes, I’m thorough) and logging in my results on my handy dandy worksheet. I was called by an employment agency who raved about my work history and told me how they were looking for more people who had that kind of experience and right as I was about to reach the peak of my excitement, they asked if I was interested in Executive Assistant positions. My entire body deflated in a matter of seconds as I politely declined.

And here’s the thing with that. I know it seems stupid to decline an opportunity to work, especially since I was going on my second year of unemployment and was facing losing my unemployment benefits since I was exhausting them as I crept towards becoming a ‘99er.’ I really wanted to find a job but I wanted it to be the right job, something that would help jumpstart my Marketing career and honestly, an Executive Assistant type position was not going to accomplish that. I have been incredibly blessed to have the luxury to be so picky and yes, I did take advantage of my position but you know, I took a necessary risk.

Looking  for work has not been the easiest thing ever.  I placed a lot of pressure on myself to find a job and I broke from the stress a few times but I knew I couldn’t give up, even when I had several people telling me to just find something, anything to tide me over in the mean time. Part of me didn’t want to give in because I knew I would just stay there and be stuck in a less than ideal situation (it is not easy for me to up and quit jobs) but another part questioned whether this stubbornness was the right way to go.

Competition for work is fierce. I know for two of the jobs I applied to received over 700 applications and the other over 200 before they turned off the posting. Isn’t that crazy? I applied for 122 jobs in the past year, though it’s probably more since I didn’t consistently keep tabs until July when I was required to record my job search efforts, and out of those I only received two interviews. Demoralizing? Yeah, it kind of was, but I had to push past the overwhelming feelings of defeat and inadequacy and remember that it didn’t matter how many times I was turned down, I just needed to find that one person who’d say yes. And you know what? I found the yes!

I’m so excited about my new job. It’s the perfect job to get me started in my career and I get to learn more about Interactive/Online Marketing, which is what I really want to do. It’s the perfect situation for me, since they’ll be training me in online marketing and everything. I can really grow into this position and more. I was so serious about landing this job that when they invited me to the first interview, I spent the weekend cramming for it, reading everything I could about SEO and online marketing (many, many thanks to the bf for helping curate resources to read!) and spent another week cramming for the second interview. I hadn’t studied like that since high school.

Sidebar: Funny thing happened on the way to the second interview. There was a really bad accident on the freeway so it ended up taking an hour and a half to get to the BART station and I was cutting it really close to making it to the interview on time. I ended up running three blocks in heels to get to the office and then had to coax a janitor to let me in since I couldn’t wait for someone to buzz me in. I ended up being a couple of minutes late a little frazzled and noticeably flushed but thankfully I still got the job!

It has been such a relief to finally have a job so I can get on with life and earn a paycheck again. Everything worked out and I thank God that it has. People, I’m going back to work!

And I already know what I’m wearing the first day.

Yeah, I’m a little eager.

Anywho, the day of the operation went on without a hitch. Basically it’s a lot of “hurry up and wait.” I showed up with my mom to the surgery clinic in the morning, signed in, and waited to be called to register and get my ID bracelet. Then I waited some more before being escorted to the pre-op staging area by the nicest hospital volunteer ever. He was a Korean War vet and noticed that my listed ethnicity was ‘Korean’ (I totally saw him reading my form) and when he called me up, he started practicing the Korean phrases he learned on my mom. And he was pretty good! Great, another non-Korean person who speaks Korean better than me. We both had a good laugh and he shared a few more stories while we made our way to the holding area. He showed me to my bed and left me to myself business as I completely undressed (so much for wearing my good pair of panties, right? I know I’m not the only one who makes sure to wear her good panties at doctor’s appointments) and put on the hospital gown where your naked butt hangs out if you don’t hold it correctly. I had to take another pregnancy test, which was interesting because, remember, I wasn’t allowed to eat or drink after midnight because of the gremlin thing. Okay, it’s because of the anesthesia thing but whatever. Gremlin sounds more fun.

So I waited some more. While I waited, the nurses began to prep me for surgery, attaching several monitoring things on my body and finger, wrapped my legs with some weird pressure cuff, and inserted the IV needle in preparation for the anesthesia. For a moment my mind drifted to my Dad and how he was always hooked up to machines and wondered what he felt as they prepped him for his transplant when I was distracted by Santa Claus. I kid you not. I heard the Korean Vet say something about Santa and another hospital volunteer walked by and I thought, how cute, they nicknamed him Santa because he as a beard. That’s when I saw Santa round the corner. In full gear. I nearly died from the absurdity.

There’s really nothing to do but sit and listen to what’s going on, so I eavesdropped on the conversations happening around my bed. A few beds down, I heard a surgeon talking to a patient about his surgery and I thought he sounded an awful lot like Greg Proops. It wasn’t until my surgeon popped into my area to check up on me that I realized Greg Proops WAS my surgeon! I had been trying to place his voice since we met and I’m glad I didn’t figure it out until then and this made me glad I would be out for the surgery because otherwise I might have trouble taking him seriously.

I got word that the previous surgery was being cancelled and mine would be moved up and there was suddenly a flurry of activity at my bed. I was introduced to my “surgical team:” the RNs and my anesthesiologist (who I made jokes with about wanting to simply wake up at the end), and was prepped for the IV and then waited with my mom, who was called back by then, to get marked up by my surgeon. Then before I knew it, the anesthesiologist injected the sedative into my IV and I was pushed down the hall.

Then this happened:

The sedative worked quickly. I’m not sure how far I made it, I know I looked back at my mom as I was wheeled down the hall and I think I remember seeing some kind of operating room but I honestly can’t tell if I actually made it there or if I was remembering the clip from Brenda’s surgery on 90210. Either way, I woke up in recovery with an ice pack on my chest and a nurse checking my vitals, mumbling instructions. Then my surgeon came in and said something about something (I don’t know why they are so intent on talking to you while you’re waking up from the anesthesia).  Then I was wheeled in the last waiting room to make sure everything was kosher before getting the all clear to change and head home.

Thankfully I wasn’t in too much pain following the surgery, nothing a little ice and Vicodin couldn’t fix and I was more excited that I was able to start weening myself off the pain meds the following Wednesday. I was determined to be better since I had a date that Friday with one of my college roommates to tour Alcatraz.

Yeah, I scheduled an outing the week of surgery. I’m that girl.

But in all, I’m glad I did finally opt for surgical removal. It feels good that I don’t have to worry about Schmidty (and the scar I have isn’t so bad!) anymore and I’m believing in God that there won’t be any juniors running around either.

———-

I’m not sure how everyone else learned how to put together an outfit, whether it’s an ingrained sense of fashion or you just stick your hand into the dresser/closet and wear whatever you pull out (I’ve been guilty of this on several occasions), but this has been a long, long lesson for me to learn. I turned 30 last year and everyone knows the transitions that result from turning such a milestone age: the horror of realizing you’re no longer in your twenties. The agony of knowing you’re that much closer to this mythical “Hill” that people keep referencing as if it were some magical far off place somewhere in the ether (or New Jersey, whichever is furthest). The misery of knowing that you are now the MIDDLE AGED! ACCCK!

But once the excitement of my birthday died down and I had eaten the last of my cake, I took stock at where I was in life. I was officially 30. A grown up. I felt pretty grown up, but problem was, I wasn’t looking the part. I don’t look my age to begin with so dressing the part is probably the only way to keep from being asked which Barbies are the most popular with girls my age.

I was never a fashionable person. I have pictures to prove this, though, thankfully, there is no photographic evidence of my most cringe inducing outfit in memory. I’ll give you a hint: it involves a pair of striped jeans my mom made. For my older sister. That I stole and wore in junior high thinking I was hot stuff. Yeah. I quickly adopted an “uniform:” a t-shirt or sports jersey, jeans and a pair of Nikes. Every single day. Sometimes I would trade pieces out for a pair of overalls (yes, for real) and a sweater but everything was oversized and kind of shapeless. Oh, and most of it were boy’s clothes. Including the jeans. It’s probably no coincidence that I went through junior high, high school and most of college without a single date. Though I’m sure the glasses, braces, and general geekiness in high school played a role with that as well.

I don’t know why I refused to wear clothes that fit, or were even made for girls. But this refusal was so epic that my friends still talk about the day I showed up in a pair of women’s boot-cut jeans. This was back in 2001 (and one of them yelled out the window, “ARE YOU WEARING BOOT CUT JEANS?!!!”). So yeah, after having spent the majority of my life in this uniform, it was hard to break free from the pervasive thoughts of how I was supposed to dress. My jeans and t-shirts had become such an integral part of my personality that the thought of branching out struck fear into me, as if I would no longer be me if I willingly wore a dress just because I wanted to wear a dress. I had stopped myself many times before from purchasing an article of clothing because I thought it didn’t fit who I thought I was and it wasn’t until I was peering down into my thirties that I realized just how silly and limiting this thinking was. Clothes should reflect your personality; not define it. And so, with this new found revelation, I embarked on one of the most ambitious project of my life to date: updating my wardrobe.

I’d like to dress like this. But maybe not the heels. Okay, maybe the heels if I were going out.

[source: evokingyou.com via Pinterest]

And like this. I can still wear jeans!

[source: Polyvore]

And so I have been slowly adding new pieces to my wardrobe: dresses, dressier shirts and sweaters, belts and even managed to find fitting jeans (when I put them on, I was shocked that they made me look like I have a butt. CAN I GET FIFTY-ELEVENTY PAIRS OF THESE?!). And while I’m far from being certifiably fashionable, I’m finding clothes that reflect my new outlook about myself and where I’m at right now and I’m feeling a lot better about myself. I’m also beginning to feel more confident in reaching past my comfort zone to try new things. Brightly patterned shoes? Why not! A slightly shorter dress than I would usually buy? Let’s try it on! Sure I may still get hung up every now and then on something that might not seem like “me” but I’ve learned to embrace those pieces and rock them anyway. I’ve found those seemingly out of character pieces have become my favorites and garner the most compliments. Sometimes it pays to take a risk.

So I’m excited to see how my wardrobe evolves with my new stage in life. Who wants to help and come shopping with me?

Though, one of the best things I’ve learned so far?

Best. Accessory. Ever.

As 2011 is winding down; seriously, how did it get this far this quickly? When did we all step into that time machine and is there a way to slow that sucker down? Wasn’t it just January? Or at least Halloween?

I started writing this out in my typical format, but then I changed my mind. See, I have developed this weird complex where I’m worried that my writing isn’t awesomely witty or even long enough to be considered a good post, which is silly because it’s not like I’m trying to meet any requirements. A post is a post, whether it’s a long 1000 word missive or a simple picture. This isn’t a school assignment! Besides, a lot of the stuff I realized are continuances of last year and I don’t really want to rehash last year’s post. So, instead, I’m calling an audible: here’s my “Best of 2011″ in pictures.

Trip with the bf to one of my favorite places in the world: the Monterey Bay Aquarium

Ran my first 5k trail run. And felt like dying. But didn’t, so point for me!

Celebrated six wonderful years with the bf. Our relationship is officially a first grader now.

 I graduated with my long-awaited MBA from St. Mary’s

Went indoor skydiving with the bf

Watched Lindsey walk the line and collect her degree from UCLA

Flew to Seattle to stand in Amalia’s wedding…and recklessly risked not fitting into my bridesmaid dress by eating a ton of delicious food. You know how I roll.

Rode the white water rapids of the South Fork of the American River and lived to blog about it

I turned 30 in August and had a tremendous time celebrating

Had lunch at Facebook HQ with a former coworker and raided their micro-kitchen for snacks for the ride home

Joined Firelady on a shift with the San Francisco Fire Department and cruised along the Embarcadero on the Fire boat

Ran my first 10k without feeling like I wanted to die!

Finally faced facts and agreed to have Schmidty, the fibroadenoma, forcefully evicted from my breast. We don’t like your kind around these parts!

Met my college roomie, Julie, in SF for a trip to Alcatraz and to catch up on her first leg of her 2 week road trip through California.

Looking back and looking forward

2011 was a bit of a refreshing year for me. This was the first full year following my dad’s passing and an introduction to life without him. This is how things will be from here on out, without the constant check ups from others or needing to give updates on how we’re grieving, but this is now our life. This is our new normal. Sometimes it feels a little weird but overall, it feels so good to finally be normal again.

We celebrated birthdays, graduations, weddings and the joy of every day life.  This was definitely a good year.

Big things are going to happen in 2012. I just know it. Sure I say this every year, but do you really think (or hope) that bad things will happen? 2012 will be a year of transition and I’m kind of scared by what could possibly transpire. I’m excited but kind of uneasy because, well, I’m not really in control of the situation. It’s kind of exciting. I’ll be back to writing to finish my recap of the Schmidty saga, give you the rundown of my goals for next year and reveal my new life motto.

Yup, 2012 is already looking pretty fantastic.

Travel

Where did you travel this year? What was your favorite part? If you didn’t get to travel, where do you want to go next year?

When I first read this prompt, I thought I would skip it, seeing how I didn’t travel anywhere. But then I realized that I did go places. While they were modest trips, they were still trips that required packing.

First, I had an overnight trip to Monterey with the bf in January. It was his first time there and I was more than happy to show him around. The weather was absolutely beautiful, sunny and in the 60s, which made for perfect walking around and sitting outside enjoying the ocean moments. My favorite part was our trip to the Monterey Bay Aquarium, which is quite possibly one of my favorite places in this entire world. Since we went during the off-season, we were able to take our time and really explore the aquarium without dealing with the massive crowds that are typical during the warmer summer months. We got some face time with the sea otters, played “Is it dead or sleeping?” with the seahorses, touched the rays in the tide pool, and watched some penguins get it on. Very awkward for all involved.

In June, I roadtripped with my mom, older sister, nephew and aunt to Los Angeles to see my younger sister graduate from UCLA. The trip started out bumpy (I forgot the clothes we were going to wear to her graduation and didn’t realize until we had gotten to the airport to pick up the rental car. We debated heading to LA without them or going back home to pick them up. We went back home and added another hour to our trip) but it was a lot of fun. My favorite moment was hanging out with my older sister at the hotel lounge sipping on drinks and chatting like we were old girlfriends. Especially the part where we giggled at the couple we suspected to be swingers looking to pick up a partner.

July brought me back to the Pacific Northwest. My first trip to Seattle was a whirlwind filled with food, delicious food. This one was for a wedding, and while I had a fantastic time celebrating with the couple and being included with the family (seeing how I’ve known them since Junior High, that should be a given by now) my favorite moment came the Sunday morning following the wedding. I woke up early and decided to head out to Pike’s Market on my own to get my hands on a piroshky from Piroshky Piroshky. After munching on my potato and cheese piroshky, I settled down on a bench at the middle of a hill overlooking the market and water. It was a quiet morning and after spending my entire weekend surrounded by people, it was a joy having a moment to myself. I took my time enjoying my breakfast dessert (a cinnamon cardamon braid – yum!) and simply relished the moment.

My last trip of the year saw me flying back to Michigan to spend time with the bf. Trips to visit him are always special since they don’t happen nearly as often as we’d like. We didn’t do anything special, this time opting to hang out around town and took a side trip to Ann Arbor, but my favorite moment actually spawned from a sad one. We were discussing my job search and my subsequent frustration with it, and the questioning turned tense and I broke from the pressure I had been feeling but never spoke up until that moment. And as I cried and hiccuped my way through rambling claims of being a failure at life and how I’m not even marriage material (yeah, it was a rough moment), he held me and let me cry, listening to everything I was saying and reassuring me that I wasn’t a failure and that it would all work out. This is why I love him.

I have a list of places I want to go and hope I can cross at some of them of them off the list next year, but if I can cross off only one of them, then I hope it’s Jamaica. It’s where we plan on honeymooning.

Want to know what this #WEverb11 thing is all about? Are you interested in participating? Find out more here!

Choose one word.

Encapsulate the year 2011 in one word. Explain why. Imagine it’s one year from today, what would you like the word to be that captures 2012 for you?

My one word would be: Celebration.

Sometimes it’s a little hard to think about celebrating after experiencing a major loss, as I did the year before with my dad, but as they say, there is life after death. This year was spent doing just that: living and celebrating that life. Here’s what I celebrated this year:

Possibilities. 2010 sucked, obviously, but 2011 was new and filled with so much potential. I had survived 2010 and really, it could only get better.

Love. In March, I marked my 6th dating anniversary with my bf. I still can’t believe we’ve been together this long, let alone long distance the entire time. It’s been hard and easy all at once. I’m eagerly looking forward to our future but am enjoying every second of our present. In July, I stood in a friend’s wedding and celebrated with her, her new husband and their families in a rocking party.

Achievement. In May, I walked across my final commencement line and received my MBA after 2 years of hard work and pretending to have done the reading (what? That is hard work!). Looking out into the crowd to see my family and a few members from my church made me smile even harder. I was so glad to be able to share this moment with them. A few days later my older sister graduated with her AA  and in June, we drove down to Los Angeles to watch my younger sister walk across the line to receive her Bachelor’s from UCLA. We really like education in this family.

Strength. In July, I joined a few friends from church and we went white water rafting down the South Fork of the American River. It was definitely a memorable event and posed a bit of a challenge paddling against the current at times. My arms are aching at the memory. In August, I ran a 10k. Up until race day, my longest distance I ran was only 5 1/2 miles and that was almost 2 months before the run. But I ended up running the entire 6.2 mile course and I could feel the excitement flowing through my body during that last mile. I couldn’t believe that I managed to run that far and running brought me closer to my dad, who used to be an avid runner himself thanks to his years in the Army.

Myself. Finally, I celebrated myself. I vowed to take care of myself and have fun. What better way to celebrate than to live right? I turned 30 in August surrounded by family and friends, I worked hard to increase my running mileage (and then I failed), I went white water rafting, ran a few races, graduated from grad school, traveled to Monterey and Seattle, started playing badminton again, and hung out with friends. I celebrated myself simply by living.

For next year, my word will be <strong>renewal</STRONG>. Next year I’m looking for a renewal in my career, my life and relationships, everything. I’m looking forward to seeing what happens in 2012.

Interested in joining #WEverb11? Find out more here!

Since this was my first surgery, the days leading up to it was kind of a mystery. I had a ton of questions mostly surrounded around how to prepare, because I like being prepared like a Boy Scout. What can I expect the day of? What about pain meds? Will I be prescribed something or did I need to buy some OTC? And if so, which kind? What kind of anesthesia was I going to have? How “out” was I going to be? When can I play badminton again (yes, badminton. Sounds weird and random but I decided to play again. Two weeks before my surgery. I never said my timing was the greatest)? What do I wear? I mean, what was I supposed to wear? I couldn’t imagine wanting to zip up a pair of jeans afterwards and dressing super cute seemed a bit misguided. So I did the logical thing: I Googled “what to wear to surgery” which helped me to relax about the one thing I could control: what I wore.

I traded a few emails with my surgeon and discussed a few more of my questions with the anesthesiologist who assured me that I would not see or feel anything. Apparently the setup would be similar to what was shown in that clip from 90210, with a curtain like thing separating my head from the rest of my body so I wouldn’t be able to actually watch what happened. My goal was to get my medication and then wake up in recovery like I did when I got my wisdom teeth pulled. The anesthesiologist said that was what would most likely happen.

I received my appointment time last Wednesday, yes, right before Thanksgiving, and was given this list of things to bring/do that was basically the same as the lists I had previously Googled:

1. Bring my medical card and photo ID
2. Bring a method of payment
3. Come completely natural: no makeup, lotion, deodorant, nail polish, etc
4. Leave valuables at home (no jewelry, including piercings)
5. Wear something comfortable
6. Do not eat or drink after midnight (because I’m a gremlin?). This includes gum and candy. If I needed to take any medication the day of surgery, I can take them with a sip of water. And they are totally not kidding about the sip.

All that was left at this point was to sit and wait. My mom would be taking me to the hospital the day of and based on my prior conversations with the surgeon, this would be an out-patient surgery so I estimated I’d be there for about 5-6 hours before coming back home. Easy peasy right? A few people asked me if I was nervous or scared and I honestly didn’t feel much of anything. I wasn’t nervous or scared because, well, I knew things would turn out fine and it was something that needed to be taken cared of anyway. I had prayed about it on my own and again the Sunday before with my Pastor and felt covered. To be honest, I was kind of weirdly looking forward to it. I don’t know why but that is kind of within character for me. Who looks forward to getting cut and stitched back up? Why can’t I be normal?!