Tagged: Work

Getting Caught Up

Hope you don’t mind, dear readers, that I had to play hooky for a little bit. The thing that pays my bills sometimes must take precedence over my passion project. But, I’m back and hitting the ground running.

In the time I was away, I produced a huge pop up store for Delta Air Lines called T4X. Located on the corner of West Broadway & Broome (NYC), the space is open to the public Tuesday – Sunday from 11-3pm through May 22nd. Please stop by and explore! And tweet me if you do (@maiah) – it would mean the world.

I was also published on life & career coach Nicole Orisich‘s CareerSugar talking about my career reinvention story. I’m so thankful for the opportunity! Please visit Nicole’s website and let me know what you think.

And finally, I’ve been trying to plan for the future. Or at least figure out what’s next. My very wise mother told me to go where the money is. However, my father, who I’ve recently learned is a dreamer, simply told me to follow my dreams instead. His words still resonate with me every day: “he’ll be lucky to try and have failed, than to have never tried at all.” Here’s hoping to merge both into a successful future filled with the richest dreams a girl could have.

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I believe in signs

To Happiness via my instagram

I believe in signs of home. When I hear Maria Muldaur’s Midnight at the Oasis or Bonnie Raitt’s Nick of Time, I smile. They are songs I used to listen to on repeat with my mother and they touch a soft spot for my graceful transition into being a mild hippie. When I hear those songs,  I must unlock my iPhone and let my fingers find the familiar numbers of my family’s land line.

I believe in signs of work. For every opportunity I pass by or that passes me by, well, I don’t see them as mistakes or missed chances. Instead, I see them as stepping stones on the way to something better. I see them as a reminder that being this good takes work, and that work takes time.

I believe in signs of love. I believe that every man that didn’t scoop me up to be his was preparing me for a larger love. A love that our hearts have been preparing us for with every heartbreak. A love that we all deserve.

I believe in signs of fate. Or is it signs of faith? Because as I perused the selection of literature at the NYC Housing Works Bookstore, I came across the uncorrected proof of a title I’ve been obsessing over written by an author I’ve been mentioning as my “future mentor.” A reminder that the more I write, the closer I’ll get to a dream coming true. It was a blessing in paperback.

I believe in signs. Small signs, short signs, tall signs, fat signs. I believe in them. I suppose because I need something to believe in (don’t you?). So, I welcome signs when they come: the joy the might bring or the challenges they represent.

Like I was saying, I believe in signs. All of them.

Four Tips from an Event Professional

This month I finished one of the largest events during my career as an event producer. I fell into this role accidentally, after choosing unemployment over a super abbreviated schedule (I had bills to pay, y’all). An internship with my current employer was purely to keep busy and stay learning. And here I am almost 3.5 years later having taken a management role over a budget beyond anything I could imagine. It was exhausting, but also rewarding, and I’ve come away with 4 tips I want to share with anyone considering a career in the world of events.

THE SHOW WILL GO ON with or without you
That’s the thing about events, regardless of if you “feel ready”, an event day approaches quickly… like a birthday or a wedding. There’s really no going back once you’ve signed the contract on a venue, have finalized catering and ordered your flowers. Your job as an event producer is to foresee every issue to the best if your ability, and to prepare for the worst, knowing the outcome will be the best.

ALLIGATOR SKIN IS SEXY
This industry isn’t for the weak skinned and faint of heart. It’s hard, and it’s not as glamorous as one may think. While you may be walking the red carpet at the GRAMMY awards, you’re also picking up trash from the same red carpet with your bare hands. Know that there are ups and downs. And hold on for the ride.

FINDING A BALANCE is key
Event producers are an incredible breed. We’re not going anywhere until our work is done, even if it’s 1am and you’re alone in a big scary office. It’s important to know your limits and to practice balance before you burn out. Know when to say yes but don’t forget how to say no. Both are equally important in this industry.

YOUR BEST IS ALWAYS ENOUGH, I promise
I mean it. Your best is incredible. You should be proud of your best. Certain clients are impossible to make happy on event day. Just know that you did your best, and that’s pretty great. In this industry, as in life, perfection is a myth. Growth is the goal. The best we can do is problem solve, and hide the flaws to create a mirage of a perfect event. Things will NEVER go as planned, not once. So your job is to plan to the best of your ability, and to be prepared to react as necessary to ensure a smooth event. Just to be clear: your best is absolutely enough. I promise.

The Generational Shift

It was a Tuesday night when I met up with a girl friend with every intention to go to a party thrown by my idol, Demetria Lucas. However, her recent (and well deserved) rise in popularity resulted in an over-capacity event and a overwhelmed bouncer.

We walked along the Lower East Side, looking for a nice place to grab a drink, letting the lights from the Empire State Building guide our footsteps. Our conversation bounced back and forth between topics: career, men, family, friends, and that wild Saturday night that left us all in shambles. We settled in at La Linea, a dark little dive that plays great music, enjoyed $4 Blue Moons and great conversation.

It was in La Linea that I realized how much priorities shift as each generation goes through the motions of life. My grandmother left her southern home and boarded a bus to Boston for a man who promised he would be her husband. Her focus was him (and eventually their children), and she did everything she could to ensure her safe arrival in Boston. Nanny was no fool, she had back-up accommodations at the Y and a job waiting to ensure her own funds, but she moved for him.

My mother learned independence from my grandmother. She spent her years after college with a focus on higher education and job success. When she met my father, her intentions were not to find her husband. She met him randomly and was open to the idea of a date. When he took her to the movies, my mother insisted they use her free movie vouchers – nothing standard about her.

What I’ve learned from them is to always have a back up plan, and to always strive for success; the rest will fall into place. As a result, I am clearly my grandmother’s grandchild. I am obviously my mother’s daughter. I am not your “normal” twenty-something woman (whatever that may be).

So for me, the fact that I am 26 and single is not “awkward” or “unfortunate” and I certainly don’t find it “unusual” as generations before me might. My focus is on keeping a job, keeping a home (read: rented apartment in NY), and keeping my friends near. My focus isn’t on creating a home… my focus is on creating my financial legacy (and apparently listening to Independent Women pt. 1 by Destiny’s Child).

Does that make me more like my male counterparts in some ways? To spend more time building a steady cushion while enjoying being a twenty-something prior to redirecting my attention to the rest? As my girl and I discussed this, I couldn’t help but wonder, where does it level out? Where do we, the Generation Y kids, submit to the same urge the generations before us have?

Xx, Maiah

My Abusive Relationship with New York

Today was one of those absolutely impossible days.

You know the ones? The shower water isn’t quite warm enough, your breakfast didn’t come out the way you love it, you’re running late for no reason, and you’re in a funk but not sure why. Yeah, one of those days.

The sky was a little overcast, a fog held in the air, mercury was in retrograde, and the forecast called for rain. Yeah, one of those days.

I’d lost my expensive umbrella (a desperate purchase made in an attempt to stay dry when it rains in NYC, which is nearly impossible because the rain is almost always sideways) and had to dash into an ATM in order to spend $4 on a budget umbrella just a few inches too long to fit comfortably in my purse. Yeah, one of those days.

Yup. I felt like Pig Pen. Struggling for no reason.

I spent every moment at work either in a meeting, on a conference call, or typing away. I left my desk once for the 2 minutes it took to heat up my lunch. Then, I ate it as I worked. And then I worked some more. Yeah, one of those days.

But when the day finally came to a close, and when I thought I’d been granted a minute to retire, to take a deep breath, to close my eyes and let out the sigh I’ve been holding in all day… something happens. A homeless man drops his pants to the ground and begins to pee in the street right in front of you while asking for spare change. Yeah, one of those days.

You’ve gotta admit, NYC has a great sense of humor.

Bitch.

Sometimes, my job doesn’t actually make sense

As you know, during the day I am an event producer. I throw together a million elements to create one awesome event. The type of event varies… While I focus mostly on beauty, fashion, and lifestyle brands, the events themselves include Fashion Week, Fashion Presentations, Runway shows, editor events, parties, and the always exciting kabuki reveal.

My most recent assignment involved traveling across the country for a 3 hour “layover” in LA during which we had a site vist, and then traveling back across the country to my home in NYC. However, our 3 hour “layover” turned into a 9.5 hour purgatory. Here is my story, told in photos.

11/17/11 4:30am EST

Wake up, attempt to put on clothing acceptable for clients. Settle on leather, heather grey, black, and leopard and leopard. Struggle to stay awake for car service to bring me to JKF. Decide to take mirror photos.

1:30pm EST

Arrive in LA. Immediately get whisked away for an airport tour. Explore an airplane repair hanger, which is essentially a big square room. Inquire about standing at the top of the tail repair ladder (seen in the back of the photo). Receive side eyes. Inquire about taking a photo with the airplane tires (bottom left). Receive side eyes.

4:30pm EST

Arrive at gate for return flight to JFK, putting us home at 10:30pm EST. Very excited. Gate attendant announces there is an issue with the air conditioning and airplane is “very hot”. Less excited. Air conditioning issue turns into what is actually a missing fuel line. Not excited at all. Decide to refuse to board plane. Gate attendant announces we will need a new plane, and this one will not leave until 10:25pm EST. Really un-excited. Watch line form at gate and wonder if we should get in it. Decide to go to Sky Club instead. Excitement grows.

6:30pm EST

Find great seating and an open bar in Sky Club. Rejoice. Decide to do more work until we can’t see straight, then we close all computers and indulge in wine, and then wine, and then some more wine. But not before having a bit more wine. They announce our flight is leaving “on time” at 10:25 and we bolt to the gate, get the most fantastic seats, and enjoy complimentary in-flight television and more wine. Notice women wearing fur and think, “I could live in LA.” Call home before take off. Employ a mom recommended buddy system do to excessive wine.

 11/18/11 4:30am EST

Back where I started a full 24 hours later. Unclear of what just happened, likely due to the wine. But after 5000 miles and a brutal red eye, I am home.

You Can’t Have It All

It’s Saturday morning, I’m on the train platform, waiting for the N, listening to Zeyi’s Working for Bill*, and hoping for inspiration so I can dust the blog off with some fresh writing when it hits me. Hard:

You can’t have it all.

Now, this is a shock. And a bit concerning. And totally disheartening to me. I whip out my notebook and scribble down the idea before I head out on my errands for the day, all revolving around work.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iMpXAknykeg?fs=1]

You can’t have it all? Really? I suppose it’s hard to accept, or grasp because it’s the opposite of everything I’ve ever been told. As an only child and single woman, I grew up thinking I could have whatever I set my mind to. Wanna move to NYC? Done. Wanna get a new job? Done. Wanna get that boy at the bar? Done. Wanna get those shoes? Charged.

But then I got online and did a little research, and the results were so depressing.

Uh, what’s that?

You can’t have it all.

Oh. Okay.

At the beginning of 2010, I did not have it all. I was incredibly single and incredibly sad. I was grateful for one thing: a job that kept me so busy I had no time for thoughts or friends. My days circled around events and industry parties; and it was exactly what I needed to get by.

The summer changed everything. I was making time for friends, making new friends, and trying my hardest to enjoy my 20′s. At the same time, I was working harder than I’d worked before. The most epic day was my birthday, where I clocked at least 12 hours at work before heading off to Fashion’s Night Out (an important evening for my industry), and then celebrating my 25th. I was on top of the world. Did I have it all? I considered it a possibility but they say hindsight is 20/20 and I now know that’s not the case.

Flash forward to December and things have reversed from where they were almost a year ago. I have almost everything I’ve ever wanted in a solid group of friends who preoccupy the majority of my time when I’m not working. Yet, I feel unfulfilled in other areas.

So wait, you can’t have it all?

Hm. Do you think that’s the case? I mean, what does “all” really entail when it comes to your life? Love, happiness, a great career, wonderful friends to lean on? Does one always suffer to allow you to achieve the rest?

I suppose I’m on a blind journey to see what’s true; throughout which I’ve been keeping this gift from my mother on my wrist (in the form of a bracelet with the following inscribed)

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding, In all your ways, acknowledge Him, and he will make your paths straight. Proverbs 3:5-6

I’ll let you know where I net out. Where did you?

*Note, Working for Bill did not inspire such a sad little post. It inspired me to be creative because it’s a work of art. If you’re not listening, you should be.

Suburban Girl Apologizes!: #NYFW

Hello little darlings,

Many apologies for the radio silence over here.

I’ve been spending my days working (see Maybelline and Essie images) at Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week at the new Lincoln Center location. When I wasn’t running around managing the spaces and models, I was trying to attend as many shows as possible thanks to my amazingly generous clients and the guest appearance of a certain Kelly Cutrone!

So, as Fashion Week ends tonight, the madness winds down, and I bid Lincoln Center adieu til Feburary 2011, I’m excited to have time for posting regularly. I’ve got a few fun things planned, including a little three part series called “Suburban Girl Reviews Shows She Wasn’t Actually Invited To But Still Attended”… hm. I’m actually out of breath typing that! Gotta work on the series title, huh?

Regardless, it’s coming up soon. And if you absolutely can’t wait and miss me so, so much it hurts then check me out on twitter. I do my best tweeting from the backseat of a cab – especially when the cabbie farts audibly like this afternoon. Amaze.

Xx