Opinions for Nothing

Ten years ago, on 9/11

When I was single, I was a serial alarm snoozer. The alarm clock I used was 14 years old. The buzzer no longer worked, so I was roused to waking by a local FM station. Instead of the usual music at 6 AM Pacific, there was a news report. I hit the snooze button, so I didn't learn yet that a plane had crashed into the North Tower of the World Trade Center. While I slept for nine more minutes, a second plan crashed into the South Tower. I played the snooze button game for nearly an hour. Each time, a little more of the news reports seeped into my consciousness. When I heard the newscaster say that the South Tower had collapsed, I bolted out of bed and turned on the television in my bedroom.

I was stunned by the sight of the smoking tower that remained, and the hole where its twin had been. I was sitting at the end of my bed, in my pajamas, when the second tower fell. I gasped and my chest tightened. I could barely take another breath as tears sprang to my eyes. After many long minutes, I  tore myself away from the television. I couldn't bear to look at that empty space, to think of the people that had fallen with the tower, to imagine the heartache that was being felt, simultaneously across our nation. I popped into the bathroom long enough to pee and wash my face. I brushed my teeth in front of the TV, once again riveted by the news coverage.

Over the next hour, I slowly readied myself for work. When it seemed like nothing else catastrophic was going to happen, I drove to work. Traffic was lighter than usual. My boss, her eyes bright and manic, met me at the door and asked if I had heard. She queried everyone who entered. One coworker hadn't heard. He lived alone and only listened to CDs in the morning.

We sat at our desks, not working, sending each other links to news sites with streaming coverage that hadn't yet been overwhelmed. BBC was the most reliable. Coworkers with family in New York went home, or hadn't come in. Scheduled meetings occured, but attendance was spotty and agendas were ignored.

My boyfriend's mother was stranded in Chicago. She'd flown there from Michigan, hours before the attacks, on her way to California. I was throwing a surprise birthday party for my boyfriend's 30th birthday that Saturday. (The attacks occurred on a Tuesday.) She was going to stay with a friend, who would bring her to the party. No flights were going in or out of any airports. Eventually, she was able to fly. She arrived in California on Saturday, a couple hours before the party started.

I didn't learn an important lesson on September 11th. That day wasn't a catalyst for change in my life. I remember it like it was yesterday, though. That gasp. My chest tightening. The smoke and the rubble. The shared experience of our nation, united by tragedy. Shaken out of our daily routines. Our world shifted and never returned to what it had been before.

My schizophrenic drive to work, in photos

My drive to work is 40 miles long, with changing weather and terrain. This picture was taken in my neighborhood, about a quarter of a mile from my house.

This picture was taken about six miles away from my house, still in the same city.

These four pictures were taken in the canyon that connects the 101 freeway with Pacific Coast Highway.

These two pictures were taken on Pacific Coast Highway. You weren't thinking about going to the beach for Labor Day, were you? My drive was a little slower than usual on PCH this morning because of the high surf. Those surfers don't care what the weather is like.

To be honest, I expected it to be sunny at my office (a couple miles inland) in Santa Monica. Sorry to have to disappoint you about beach city weather in Southern California. I'm glad I wore a sweater today.

I'm adding Military Advisor to my resume

On my flight from L.A. to Dallas last week, I noticed the game my seating companion was playing on his iPhone. It was Connect 4! (I still need to download that.) I mentioned it and he said it was kicking his butt and that his kids had added it to his phone. We chatted about kids and iPhone games and then our reasons for being on that particular flight. He was headed back home to Mississippi from California, where he'd been traveling for business. He was a Colonel in the Air Force. We both talked about what our jobs entailed.

When he found out I was in business and working on my MBA, he asked me questions about transitioning out of a military career into the corporate world. I gave him lots of advice about how to position his experience, what sorts of networking and research he can do over the next couple of years before he retires, what level and salary he could expect, and so much more. I literally could not shut up.

I have never been so chatty on a flight, to a perfect stranger, before. That guy knows how much money I make, how old I am, where I grew up, where I went to college, how long I have been married, how old my children are, and who knows what else I spewed out of the course of our flight. He was so easy to talk to, though. He must have felt the same way, because I know all those same facts about him.

Anyway, I hope that he does take my advice about joining LinkedIn, so that we can reconnect and I can get him linked up with a couple of retired military guys I know who are now in the corporate world.

It isn't every day that I get to advise a Colonel in the Air Force.

My Infographic Resume

You see that thing up there? That's my resume. Seriously. It's a little unorthodox, but I LOVE IT. (Click on it to see it full size.) I read an article on Mashable a couple months back that showed half a dozen examples of infographic resumes. At the time I had just been rejected (I mean like, make no mistake about it, rejected) for a job I thought I really wanted, and my quest for a new job in Texas was in a lull. This looked like just the thing I needed to liven up my prospects. I was right.

I hired the designer of three of the resumes in that Mashable article. He delivered the final product to me two mornings ago and I immediately posted on michellemagoffin.com. I tweeted about it, and linked to it on Facebook and LinkedIn. I asked people to please share it with their followers and within 18 hours, this page had over 2000 hits. The response has been amazing -- more than I hoped for -- and I have had a few serious inquiries already.

If you're looking for someone like me or you know someone who is, please share my resume. I really appreciate the help.

The Poop Pagoda

This piece was original published by Clark Schpiell Productions on January 24, 2005. My desire for this Utopian future is even greater today than it was then.

I have had the misfortune in my professional life to witness, or overhear as the case may be, heinous breaches of poop etiquette. The following represent but a few of the offenses that I've documented at the Peevery.

I hate it when I go into the bathroom at work to take a crap and someone else comes in when I am halfway through, so I have to wait until she leaves before I can finish, but she is waiting until I leave, and I don't want to just sit there in silence, waiting and waiting when it is that bitch who should leave since I was there first. Poop etiquette dictates that she should stop after the pee and come back later when the bathroom is unoccupied.

    ***

I walked into the bathroom. It reeked of bleach, so at least I knew it is clean. As I headed into the stall, I caught a faint whiff of someone's doody, so I pulled my shirt up over my nose and breathed shallowly. As I went about my business (#1 only), I heard a flush. Then I heard the tp holder rolling as Crapper went in for a wipe. Then I heard it rolling again. Then I heard it rolling again, and again, and again. Crapper wiped no less than five times in an obvious breach of poop etiquette. She should have remained silent until the other occupant (me!) left the bathroom.

It wasn't over yet. I flushed and pulled up my pants when I heard her flush again. I thought, surely she wasn't planning to exit her stall while I was in there; the most flagrant violation yet of poop etiquette. I left my stall and she walked brazenly out of hers. I had to see Crapper's true identity! And it still wasn't over. She started talking to me!

    ***

As a final, private farewell to [my former employer], I thought I'd take a tidy little crap before heading off to my going away happy hour. Well, this place is not one to be reckoned with. As I was making those straining sounds (you know what I mean), I heard a flush from the handicapped stall - the one where you never know if someone is in there or not unless they make some noise. How perversely appropriate that my last moments here are marred by yet another breach of poop etiquette. That bitch should have made some noise when she realized I was staying around for Act II.

Why is it that floating some logs at work has to be so fraught with tension? Why has no one yet conceived of an easier way to pinch off a loaf while on the clock?

Hire Me in Austin, TX

I haven't posted too much about my job search (other than updating every single online profile to read "Hire me in Austin, TX") because I am in sort of a weird position. My boss knows I will be leaving the company and that the timeline is uncertain. Other people at my company know I will be leaving, too. It isn't necessarily common knowledge, though. Usually, job hunting is such a clandestine affair, fraught with fake dentist appointments and uncharacteristic boughts of the stomach flu (also fake), so it feels uncomfortable to be open about it, even though there is no reason not to. On the other hand, I don't want to thumb my nose (what does that even mean?) at my company for not booting me out the door once I told them I was looking for a job in another state. Also, I don't want vultures trying to steal my job before I've left it! (Kidding. Let me know if you want my job and I will send your resume to my boss.)

That is so not what I had planned to write about when I started this post. I had planned to write about how this job search is so different from any other job search I have ever conducted.

My husband and I have been planning to leave California for a couple years. Last year, we got serious about it. We sold our house and moved into a rental with a plan to stay there for a year or two before moving to Austin, Texas. I would start looking for a job in the Spring and we would move as soon I found the perfect job. He would look for a job after we moved. (My job is much more specialized than his, and harder to find. I'll be surprised if he doesn't find a job in less than a month.)

For the past few years, I have been much more conscientious about networking. It is something that I am not naturally good at it. (I wrote about LinkedIn here.) I worked on making some connections in Texas, and making a broader range of connections in the internet industry in general. For the past year, I told everyone I met that I was planning to move to Austin. That alone has lead to some interesting things.

Spring came and I attended SXSWi in Austin. That is when I started my job searching in earnest. (Check out my t-shirt.) I reached out to a few recruiters but, mostly, I reached out to my network. And that is all I have been doing since then. I have had more leads and more interest in my talents than I have ever had in any job search before. A week hasn't gone by in which I haven't had at least two calls scheduled. Sometimes, it is just a networking sort of call, chatting with someone in Austin, letting them know what I am looking for and seeing if they know of any opportunities or anyone I should be talking to. Sometimes, it is talking to people who could hire me. I have talked to about half a dozen companies and not a single one of them had an open position listed, yet we had serious conversations about how I could fit in with those companies. The job boards are dismal, but I have had a lot of leads just through networking.

Right now, I am in the early stages of conversations with three companies. Each one has a unique, and very interesting, opportunity (not yet listed on any job board). The best thing about looking for a job this way is that when I do talk to people, it is really a conversation about fit. They talk about what is going on at their companies, the work they are doing, their philosophies and corporate cultures. I talk about my experience and what I am looking for in my next job and the future of my career. It is so different from having an interview filled with formulaic questions designed to weed out slightly ovoid pegs that won't fit into an unnaturally round hole. I am not in a hurry with this. I am moving my family halfway across the country. I want to make sure I choose a company for which I will be a good fit, where I think I will be happy, doing something I think I will love. And, I want the company to feel the same way about me.

On the other hand, it is freaking hot in Texas, and I would like to move before temps in Austin hit triple digits. (Next week?) I said to my daughter the other day, "You think this is hot? Wait until we get to Texas."

Choose Your Own Adventure

I used to write for a friend's web mag, Clark Schpiell Productions. This piece was published there November 3, 2003, when I was 29.

I recently stumbled onto a web site that was a spoof of those Choose Your Own Adventure  books that were popular when we were kids. In addition to the slightly nerdy sci-fi books, there was also a series of books for adolescent girls. As a slightly nerdy adolescent girl, I read a few of both.

I loved those books, but they also made me a little tense, which could explain quite a bit about why I am the way that I am. What if I made the wrong decision? I hesitated slightly before turning to the designated page. Once the decision had been made, however, the giddy excitement would build as I rushed to read my fate. (In case you are not familiar with these books, they are written in the second person: you are the protagonist.) The idea that I could go back and change my mind if I did not like the outcome of my decision, or if I simply wanted to see what happened if I made a different choice, was the most thrilling possibility I could imagine. It was easy not to have regrets when none of my decisions were final.

It is so much harder in real life. That is the struggle with 29. From this perspective, the paths that I have chosen are clearer than they have been in the past, and so are the paths that I have not chosen.

The Cube Dweller's Manifesto

I used to write for a friend's web mag, Clark Schpiell Productions. This piece was published there October 27, 2003. I have edited a few minor errors and changed an outdated reference to music. Current and future employers, please note that this is satire.

1 company, 3 years, 4 titles, 6 cubicles

"It's not just the stench of stale cigarettes," I type into the tiny IM window discreetly hidden in the bottom corner of my screen. "It is the constant, unsolicited, inane chatter."

"Kill her," the response reads. "Stab her in the neck with a pen."

"Off to a mtg. Maybe when I get back."

I grab my pad and pen and head to a conference room on the other side of the building. My mind is filled with the image of a smoked leather face contorted above a jutting Pentel fine point.

Serial Job Killer

I got my first real job when I was 14. I listed them all here. If I had known it was going to lead to an endless series of progressively difficult jobs, I would have chosen a life of leisure.

• Snack bar cook
• Babysitter
• Personal assistant
• Math tutor
• Move theater usher
• Sandwich artist
• Receptionist
• Office assistant
• Resident assistant (RA)
• Museum attendant
• Girl Scout camp counselor
• Home visitor (caseworker)
• Office supply store clerk
• Math tutor
• Assistant to the COO
• Data Coordinator
• Content Editor
• Associate Producer
• Producer
• Product Manager
• Freelance Web Consultant
• Business Systems Analyst
• Sr. Business Systems Analyst
• Product Manager
• Sr. Product Manager
• Freelance Web Consultant
• Director of Product Management

This list was inspired by a similar post by the interesting and talented Schmutzie.

Call for Opinions: Should I wait to find a new job?

Anonymous asks:

I'd been planning to leave my job of five years in the summer of 2009. Unfortunately, the economy tanked and the jobs in my field dried up. I was happy to have the job I had and that I didn't have to take a pay cut. Now, my industry is picking up and jobs in my field are available again. I am torn about whether or not I should be looking right now. I have a lot of stressful things going on in my life and I know that starting a new job would add to that stress, but I am not happy in this job. Would the happiness from a new job offset the stress that starting a new job would cause? (I have two reasons for my dissatisfaction: (1) my company has grown to the point where office politics increasingly outweighs sound business judgment, and (2) my current duties are really fucking boring.)

My advice is to keeping looking for a new job, but hold out for one that you REALLY want. Don't apply for jobs that are only as good as your current job just because you are unhappy. The change will be nice in the beginning, but you will find yourself in the same predicament not too far in the future. Since you are going to be very discriminating in your search, I think it is fine to keep looking even when the rest of your life is stressful, unless the search itself is starting to stress you out, then take a break. Otherwise, I think that the search will help you see that you won't be in your suck job forever.

Do you have any advice for anonymous?