32 days.
Could this please be over?
It’s my least favorite part, the waiting, the nagging, the constant feeling of having forgotten something despite my trusty Martha Stewart lists. Could I please just be married to the boy already? I am excited to be married. I am no longer excited to have a wedding. I’m tired of my wedding.
For some reason (read: money) I’ve taken on some extra stuff at work for another department, so that means working at home instead of watching The Voice or Thursday Night Football. And it’s killing me because I miss Adam Levine and I am driving myself to more and more physical pain by doing this. I have a nerve problem in my right arm and between thank you notes and my regular job, it’s always aggravated and sometimes I’m just clutching my arm, silently screaming. I’m back to left-handed mousing. I have to have nerve transfer surgery the week after my wedding. Happy honeymoon to me.
So why volunteer to do the extra work?
I need to get out of here. I have to do SOMETHING. I am sick of being called a communications coordinator and doing nothing more than making a shitty newsletter nobody reads, posters that other people take credit for, and covering the tails of people who can’t figure out how to order a sandwich from Jimmy John’s or save a Word document as a PDF. It’s built into Office 2007, people. Leave me alone. I want more than this. I can do more than this. I am trying to prove it to somebody, to anybody who will give me a chance to do it.
The process of proving myself is terrifying.
I had an interview disguised as a lunch with some people in a department that’s rejected me before. I am cautiously optimistic, but only because I was invited to apply, so it’s not exactly a cold call. And it’s like a sock in the gut to feel like I’m setting myself up to do this again, but I am at the end of my rope here. If it doesn’t happen this time, I’m doing what I least want to do and leaving the company that has been good to me for 10 years. I will be aggressive and i will find something else. I love healthcare. I love THIS HOSPITAL and I believe so, so much in the work we do and in the skills and the vision of the people here. I’ve been in the boardrooms and I’ve been in the ER bed and I’ve been under the knife in the ORs more than once. I WANT TO STAY HERE. And I will sell the shit out of this place if they let me.
There are many people here who appreciate my work, who thank me for my help with their sandwiches and PDFs and who are kind and lovely souls. But I can’t build a career on platitudes.
If anyone says “at least you have a job,” or “be patient,” they’d better duck and cover. I’m not an idiot. I’m frustrated. Good enough is not enough, and I am tired of being afraid to push my boundaries. I’m tired of dreading my work day and dreading rejection. I’m ready to be the good kind of afraid, the kind that comes with the jitters of leaping into an unknown that’s full of the promise of something different and the chance for something better.
I just finished writing up a mini-essay for my Media & Culture class this evening, analyzing some cases of major news networks violating FCC rules for required disclosures when airing VNRs (Video News Reports). The gist is that a company will sometimes sponsor a segment of news and the broadcaster might get some manner of compensation for promoting it. An investment firm may do a special segment on retirement planning, for example. The network should, when airing this “news” (I use the term loosely), clearly indicate that the segment is sponsored by that investment firm.
Simple.
It doesn’t always happen that way. Today I had to write about a few of the ongoing cases of major media groups like Fox and Comcast continually thumbing their noses at the FCC’s piddly penalties. I posited that the FCC needs to ramp up both enforcement and penalties. And, because we were asked to do so, I included a little personal insight:
As a blogger and a Nintendo Brand Enthusiast, I am held by my employer to the FCC standards – no matter how small my audience. I do not get paid for my work, but I do get complimentary goods, services, and travel for various events. Brand Ambassadors must disclose affiliations on every blog post (we also usually put it in the blog footer on the main page too, just for good measure) and every social media post. Anything I tweet having to do with a sample product must have the hashtag #samp attached.
If I am held to that standard just because I got a free Wii Fit and a fun trip to Seattle, why on earth can major broadcast companies not get their acts together and just abide by the rules? I don’t want to lose my freebies from Nintendo, so I toe the line. Maybe the FCC just needs to hit the violators where it hurts a little more. Take away their toys.
So with that in mind, I bring you my wedding cake toppers. FULL DISCLOSURE: Nintendo and Brand About Town had nothing to do with these. I picked them out and paid real money for them myself.
Goodness, that was easy.
- Dress pretty.
- Ask politely.
- Make a passive-aggressive scene in front of other customers to make the salesperson look like a mean person for not helping you out, thereby guilting them into giving in just to make you go away.
- Thank sweetly and profusely, making sure to raise your voice when saying how much you appreciate their understanding.
- Use your store credit and beat a hasty retreat.
Due to a lot of flip-flopping in my decisions while planning this wedding, I’ve found myself needing to do quite a few merchandise exchanges lately. In some cases it’s not a big deal. Actually, in MOST cases it’s not a big deal.
But in The Affair of the Necklace, it was.
Wedding Dress #2 was modern, with clean lines and architectural folds. It demanded a statement piece, and when my bridesmaid and I were shopping for her dress at Snooty Salon, I spotted this:
It was perfect for the dress! My dear friend bought it for me as a wedding present.
Then my weirdness kicked in, and I had to get rid of Dress #2. It was all wrong for me. Dress #3 (I swear, the last) is more traditional, softer, and with more detail. It wouldn’t work with the necklace at all.
Snooty Salon has an all-sales-are-final policy, which to me makes sense for dresses. But a necklace? One they ordered in April that isn’t scheduled to arrive till August? (I think the oysters are still eating the sand to make the pearls.)
No go. Can’t cancel it, the girl on the phone said.
I felt pretty bad. I wouldn’t be able to wear my friend’s generous gift and it felt like a big waste of money. But I persevered. On Sunday I put on a pretty dress and went to Snooty Salon in person.
The girl at the desk recognized my name from our phone conversation and sighed audibly. She gave me the no-refunds speech again. I asked nicely for a favor. And I could tell people were listening. They wanted to see how it played out.
“I’ve got to change everything about my wedding look,” I said, not quietly. “I can’t wear that necklace at all. It will be a complete waste of my best friend’s gift.”
“blah blah our policy…”
“But I do need a veil, a new necklace, something for my hair, and shoes. I would be happy to buy here if I can apply the cost of the first necklace as store credit.”
“grumble grumble…”
“PLEASE.”
“Fine, fine,” Snooty McGrumpypants muttered.
“I really appreciate it,” I said sweetly.
“Whatever. I’ll get someone to help you with accessories.”
I won!
Returns are always a hassle. I can’t believe I got full credit on TWO returned wedding gowns and now the necklace. I feel like this might be the time to buy a lottery ticket, because that last one was a close call and my luck could run out at any second.
I won a book in the giveaway for The Well-Read Wife‘s first Blogger Book Club!
I like to win things. And I like to win things even more when they’re things I was already going to buy anyway.
Meghan McCain’s first book, “Dirty Sexy Politics” was about her life on her dad John McCain’s campaign trail back in 2008. She’s no literary goddess, but I don’t think that’s her goal as a writer. The book was just a fun, easy read – mainly because of her perspective and sense of humor. I don’t think she strives to enlighten people with some deeper meaning or push an agenda. It’s just a story of what she did. I’m hoping that this one – about a cross-country journey with comic Michael Ian Black – brings these same elements back. I don’t necessarily agree with all of her politics, but I like Meghan McCain’s story and I like her vibe.
Bill Bryson, one of my favorite authors of all-time-forever-and-ever, wrote a book called “The Lost Continent” about his travels in search of the perfect small-town American experience. He later penned “I’m a Stranger Here Myself,” a compilation of columns he wrote for a British publication detailing his return to American life after living abroad for twenty years.
There is so much wrong with this country. It’s nice to read something once in awhile that celebrates the things that are great and fun about it. Meghan will never take Bill Bryson’s place in my heart, but I’m really looking forward to seeing if she can give me a few laughs about the good old U.S. of A.
Mandy’s Blogger Book Club over at The Well-Read Wife starts July 20th, and anyone can participate!
