My Peripatetic Friend

Oh, Jill. I do not have another friend with more stamps in her passport, who goes through more flights in one month, or who makes friends more easily in any situation (maybe dad can beat her in that one). Jill and I met while working as au pairs (yeah, be jealous) in Switzerland (ok, you can really be jealous about that one). We met early in the year and have been insta-friends ever since.

After leaving the glamorous world of child care Jill went on to take a job as a…well, actually every time I asked her what she did I could never fully remember (sorry!). I think it had something to do with marketing, sales, advertising, China, and Europe. And this job allowed her to scan the globe hip-hopping around countries almost at her leisure. I use the past tense, because as you will find out this job is no longer a part of her life. She is on the move again, in one of my very favorite cities in the whole world. Hopefully she will also find her way back to the States soon and enjoy being amongst the company of her friends and family. So, for today’s post, I will pass along the reigns to someone who knows far more than I do about being a broad abroad. Furthermore, I trust that she will also become a broad at home, like yrstrly, in the near future.

You are my friend, you are my friend... Jill and I at ZuriFest last year.

Kristina’s return to school has brought to mind a number of emotions for me. I think she’s brave for making a life in a new place (I think it’s infinitely more difficult to start over in a new place in the U.S. over a place abroad—seriously!), I think it’s wonderful that she’s pursuing something she really wants to do and is interested in, and I’m jealous as heck that she gets a fresh start.

Despite the turning of the actual calendar year in January, there’s a renewed energy in September. The idea of a fresh start, a chance to make a new change, is really appealing to me. Don’t even get me started on new clothes and school supplies (in September I have to fight the serious urge to purchase notebooks, folders, pens, glue sticks, even protractors, because I love the start of school and fresh supplies so much—and no, I’m not going to be a teacher, I’m not nearly saintly enough for that profession). Back to the point, I love fall because it’s a chance for something—anything, a new experience, a new wardrobe, new opportunities.

Although I finished school over two years ago (please do not remind me) I still think of my life in semesters. It’s a weird habit, but I can’t stop quantifying my experiences into “first semester,” “second semester,” or “summer vacation.” Perhaps it’s because my life still seemed to revolve around the school calendar; the year after I graduated from school I was an au pair and my schedule was created by the school calendar, the following fall I started a new job in a new place. My life seemed destined for change every autumn and I liked it that way.

This fall, being my third outside the confines of a classroom, was actually going to be a bit more repetitive. I moved back to Oslo, a place I had previously lived for my job during January-April, a place that was comfortable, familiar but a place I was actually excited to live in once again. Perhaps it was my subconscious need for change—well that and a multitude of other factors—that led me astray from my plan. In [very] short, I quit my job and moved to Paris.

So here I am, starting anew in the City of Light. Maybe finding a job, maybe just walking around eating croissants all day—all I know is that this fresh start will probably be my last abroad. I’m gearing up to finally locate myself in the United States in January. Maybe that switch will finally kick my “semester” habit and I’ll be able to think of years as calendar years.

Despite the wintertime change, I’m not counting on the January-move to rid me of my desire for new school supplies. A new set of pens and pencils every September is too great an urge to deny.

Jill, go here!

I’m HeeeeEEEERRrrree!!

Yes! I am in Charleston! I have an apartment and it has a new roommate, some of her things, some of my things, and ME! Mom, Dad and Courtney just left moments ago to head to Boston to do the same move-in process for her (how do they do it?!) and I am now alone to enjoy this new place I will call home for (at least) two years. I still have some things to do (I have absolutely no groceries to call my own, unless you count wine) but I am very excited to feel a little more settled in.

Um, it’s beautiful here. And it’s hot. Hot HOT HOTT. I actually might think it’s hotter here than in Thailand. Whoa. But, I will get used to it. Or I will suffer through it and then snigger at everyone at home when it’s negative whatever there and barely getting down to forty here. That will be nice.

I’m about to meet with one of my professors to discuss my graduate assistanship. I can’t remember if I told you that I earned an assistantship, so if this is a repeat, bear with me. For roughly ten hours a week I will help edit and publish an international literary magazine that has recently found its home here. The magazine has been in publication for over 25 years and has had its fair share of important literary contributors. After my meeting I will know more about the magazine and my duties so I will fill you in as we go, but I am very excited to be working on a project like this. As of now, editing and publishing are areas I hope to explore with my fancy degree (counting my chickens before they’ve hatched), and I think this will be the perfect introduction.

This is all very scattered because I can’t seem to wrangle my brain and let it just sit for a while. My mind has been moving like a maniac over the last few days and I am looking forward to a semi-relaxing afternoon.

Notetable Notes

• Today was my last day of work. I think I will miss skipping around the store slathering women in (mostly) genuine compliments on how they wear the clothes and the clothes don’t wear them.
• I watched Oprah at the gym this afternoon. This was the episode with Chris Rock’s final appearance. Commenting on a picture of his daughter holding a Notorious B.I.G Barbie he said, “Every little girl should have a doll of a slain rapper.”
• Tonight I am headed to our house at the Lake of the Ozarks for the first time in two years. Really, really excited.
• I have a secret addiction to “The Bachelorette.” And I’m (mostly) not happy about it.
• I started Solar by Ian McEwan and think it’s off to a great start. Looking forward to this one.
• I’m going to Thailand in exactly one week. I will be laying on the beach in one week. I will be hanging out with Adam in one week.

Word Play

Yesterday I was thisclose to having a meltdown on the floor at work. I have a few pet peeves, silly and trite, as most people’s are. Among them is when people use pet names such as, “Sweetie,” “Honey,” “Sweetpea,” Sugar,” for total strangers. Case in point, one of my clients yesterday.

I walk to the front of the store to greet her and ask her the all-important question, “What are we shopping for today?” She says, with what I think was a genuine smile, “Oh you know what Sweetie, someone is helping me. Thank you though Sweetheart.” Oh whoa, whoa, two in one greeting. Too fast, too furious. I left her to her browsing and continued milling about the store. When my manager, who was previously helping her, passed her off to me I knew I was in for it.

For the next forty-five minutes I was harassed by variations on “sweet” and made to feel like a child. As I’m out on the floor grabbing her a different size, I say to my friend, Patty, “I am going to lose my MIND if this woman calls me ‘Honey’ one more time!” She says, “You know, when they do that to me, I just dish it right back.”

Well this is against my design. It is awkward and unnatural for me to say such things. Even when I was working in the classroom I addressed my students as “Sir” or “Ma’am.” “Honey-bear schnookly doodums” just doesn’t sound right coming out of my mouth. So every time I brought her back something or checked on her I had to endure another round of, “I’m just great thank you Pumpkin. You’re so sweet!” Waaaaaaah! Make it end!!

At last she paid for her purchases and left the store. My cringe reflexes went back into hibernation and I was free to be simply Kristina. That is until one hour later when SHE CAME BACK FOR MORE!! She forgot to buy a few items, and once again I was thrust back into the world of baby-talk. When will it end?! I thought.

Finally, she was gone. And all was well. Sweetie.

Working Girl

I’ve been working, on average, five days a week, usually throwing down 30-40 hours during the work week. This gives me a lot of time to think up and use fantastic phrases such as, “You know, with this necklace I think we (always “we”) should do a smaller earring that isn’t so loud. Clearly, this necklace has a lot to say.” All this time in the store also gives me a chance to get to know clients that are coming in to revamp their wardrobe. We have many regular clients, but we also get some newbies that are fresh off the sidewalk and not used to our superior customer service (not to mention a sassy good time).

The one thing I’ve noticed through working at The Store is that people aren’t always used to the time and attention we give them. If I had a nickle for every time I had a woman say, “You have been SO helpful. Thank yoooouuu-uh (you know that “you” when she cocks her head to the side a bit and makes the word 2 or 3 syllables?)”  I could have a totally separate paycheck. For real. But, this makes me so happy. Not that I wasn’t prepared for this, because when you provide a service for someone then you hope they feel good. What surprised me most was how much it means to people.

Did you know there are people that get extremely nervous while shopping? So much so that they give up entirely and end up wearing parachute pants and crew-neck sweatshirts for the rest of their lives? Obviously, I suffer from no such affliction and cannot identify. But knowing that I can wardrobe a woman, put her in outfits that not only make her look good but feel good too, all while sparing her from an activity that makes her nervous and upset, makes me feel good and as if I’m doing something worthwhile.

Just today I got a hug from a woman who came in to return a dress that looked fab-ulous on her, but her mother deemed it too “young” for the function they were going to (by the way, the woman is in her thirties and is still having her mother approve her outfits–this is another issue entirely). She apologized profusely for bringing it back and gave me a hug as a Thank You for my great care and customer service. I reassured an apology was unnecessary as not everything works all the time, and we look forward to seeing her again. Last week I had a woman kiss me on the cheek for helping her find a sweater and preventing her from buying a jacket her husband would scorn her for buying (again, what’s with the seeking permission on clothing??). She appreciated my help when her husband was in the store and was happy to see me again. Who knew shopping could be such a personal experience for a person?

Reading The Geography of Bliss has made me conscious of the parts of my life that make me happy. It also asks me to consider how happy I am. I feel I am very happy. Sometimes I am confused, stressed, sad, lonely, or frustrated (see previous post), but overall I know I am a very happy person. And working with my clients, spouting out funny phrases, and brightening people’s day makes me even more happy.

Word Vomit

All of the following have come out of my mouth in the last couple weeks:

“I brought you this hot pink, faux croc skin heel because everyone should have one. You know, just to feel really fun.”

“You know what that would look so great with? A bedazzled tank. I know, they look perfect with everything.”

“No, I really don’t think the polka dot is too much with the ruffle collar and puffy sleeves. It’s just enough.”

“Let’s get you a studded tank top to amp up that sequin cardigan you have going on.”

I heart my job.

Selling My Soul

As I alluded to in the previous post, I recently acquired a job. I set out to find one of these puppies when I first got home, but ran into one dead-end after another. Everyone said they weren’t hiring until the spring, so I should sit tight and check back in a month or so. Hence, my trip back to Zürich. Within one week of returning from my trip abroad I applied for one more retail job and was hired 20 minutes into the interview. Was it fate??

Photo courtesy of sftravel.com

So here I am, doing my retail thing, selling (overpriced) clothing to affluent women. A few months before I left for my year au pairing I picked up a similar job to make some extra cash around the holidays and add some padding to my savings. HA! Turns out most of that money funded extracurricular (read: weekend) activities and more clothing from the store at a heavily discounted price. Now, I have a second chance at retail and I am NOT letting it go to waste. In fact, this job differs in more ways than just the aforementioned…

 

Photo courtesy of shopittome.com

I was explaining a little tonight at dinner with Matt and Courtney that I have morphed myself into an almost unrecognizable creature in the store. I like to shop and I like clothing, but this store (which shall remain nameless) takes the idea of shopping to a new level. Most importantly, we treat our clients (not customers) like they are our girlfriends. We are just a bunch of bosom buddies out for a day of gossip and retail therapy. When we meet up with a client we are devoted to her; we are there to serve her. We fetch her more clothing than what she asked for or sought after, taking our cue from the sizes of the items she actually picked up herself. From that base we pile on tops, skirts, camis, dresses, pants, shoes, etc until the room overfloweth. Finally, when the client jams herself in the room with all the extra “fun pieces” we just “thought she would looove,” we slather her with compliments and suggestions. Here’s where I really begin to sell my soul. Phrases that have actually come out of my mouth in the last few days:

• “Are you kidding me?! You look phenomenal in the dress! I mean, to die.”
• “OK, well the pants, obviously you’re getting them. Seriously, you aren’t leaving here without them.” (too pushy? Well, she bought them.)
• “Let me grab you a belt to go with that. I’m belting everything I can get my hands on.”
• “Girls, check out the dresses we just got in. I am losing my mind over them!!”

Yeah, I know. Not so good, huh? The other day I said, totally straight-faced, “It is all about the shirtdress right now, isn’t it?!” And, the best part, she was totally into it. She loved it. Ate it up. The funny thing is, I’m having so much fun with this job. You know, maybe my feet hurt when I leave the store, and my back has been a bit ache-y, but it’s not debilitating. And I really like helping the client. Yesterday I spent a little over an hour with a woman who was so happy to have her pre-baby body back and was going banana-sandwich-crazy all over the store. I had a lot of fun bringing things back to her, having her come out and do a fashion show, and just chat about things that were going on with each of us.

I may sound slightly certifiable as I walk around the store saying things like, “If you don’t get your hands on one of those extra-long, over-sized pearl necklaces, you will be sorry!” but I don’t regret it. Having fun like this makes the day zip by, and doesn’t hurt my sales record, to be quite honest. I think this store and I are going to have a good relationship.

Could You Repeat The Question?

Apart from not even knowing exactly what kind of job to look for, one thing that makes me nervous about jumping into the market is the interview process. How do I make myself sound like the missing link in your über-successful company without bordering on cocky? Which materials are essential to bring? Will an employer even want to see the Portfolio I spent hours upon hours creating?

The best interview I had was for K-State Orientation Leader. It was, for the most part, a group interview. At one point we were required as a team to come up with a product to use on K-State’s campus and make a commercial trying to sell said product. Effectively, they wanted to see how well we could think on our toes and market positive aspects about the university. This job was one of my favorites. I loved sharing all the amazing things I love about KSU. GO CATS!!

On the flip side, the worst interview I ever had was with what turned out to be a highly-fundamentalist Christian summer camp. The interview started off well, then took a sharp turn toward uncomfortable, and finally ended with me being incensed at the hideous woman questioning me. I will spare you the gory details, but I quickly removed myself from the interview.

While checking out the “Freshly Pressed” on wordpress.com I came across this insane list of interview questions compiled by glassdoor.com. I’m all for spicing up the process and veering away from the drone of, “Tell me about a time when you had to be a leader,” but some of these are ridiculous! I have a feeling I would be walking out of any one of these interviews a little stumped.

 

Photo Courtesy of joblesscorner.com

And you, my friends. Have you had absurd, baffling or perhaps hilarious questions asked to you during an interview?