There's No Crying in PR

...unless it's the end of the day, you're back in your apartment and alone.

I guess this deserves some explanation.

Friday afternoon was like any other Friday afternoon in the office. Everyone was at their desk, fingers dancing across their keyboard to get what needed to be drafted, delivered and finalized out of their inbox and off of their to-do list to make it out of the office by four o'clock. Four o'clock Fridays were drawing to an end and with only two (including that particular Friday) left, it was a dream to get out as close to four as possible.

So why the tears, you ask?

Well, I had a review that afternoon; and I look forward to reviews like a bug looks forward to the windshield of a car.

Holding back tears while being told I need to "work on my confidence," "be careful about being too creative" and really trying to "own things," I couldn't help but get pulled back to my time in New York.  My family and friends will tell you I was not a happy camper in the big apple. I wasn't even close. I use strong words like "hate" and "disgust" to plainly allude to feelings that have only left a reminisce of my self-esteem in the working world. I had been bent and broken. I had been burned and shredded. Forever scared, with a bitter aftertaste that sits in the back of your throat like an ex-boyfriend's name.

Sitting in that conference room, I was once again "too much" while being "not enough." My edges were sharp, but in the wrong places. My accent marks punctuated the wrong part of the word. My kick of the ball landing it in the wrong goal. My efforts had been too strong in the wrong direction.

While the feedback stems from hopes of improvement, its flower perfumes a smell of disappointment. I left feeling more vulnerable than when I entered, than when I even started. Hunched from the weighted of the "criticism" I came back to my apartment and cried. I cried like that baby I really am, because let's be real...I have no idea what the heck I'm doing.

So what better thing to do then get it all down on this blog. Pour it all out and turn each piece over. One-by-one. Carefully, I'll find the pieces that connect. I'll build my boarder and piece together my picture. I will always be too much for some people. My accent forever a bit off. But I refuse to dull my edges and weaken my efforts. Those will stay as they are and the other parts of me will just learn to be as sharp and as strong, because there is no crying in PR.

Sincerely,

Cybill

{Photo Credit}

2014 Goals...Made in August

It's August and my attempts at blogging have failed miserably. I think I posted one post in the month of July. Where does all the time go? I think it's spent at work or sleeping. Lately, that's all I feel I do, but I've promised to be kinder to myself. Yes...napping is something kind to gift myself, but so is living life and that latter is far more adventurous. With that in mind, I'm going to greet the rest of 2014 with a few goals. Some are a little silly, but all are hopeful.

1. Staying up late to live a litte more. Since I began my new job, I've been so set in my way of sleeping at decent hour. I love to sleep. I love being in my pajamas and just cuddling in my bed. However, that's not what life is about. My goal is sleep a little later...perhaps an hour or so (let's not get crazy, I do have to work the next day) and just do a little more, even if it's something small, like reading a book or watching a movie.

2. Calling, not texting. Some of my friends can probably attest to this. I do like to chat and if you need someone to talk to for an hour during your drive, give me a call. However, this doesn't mean I do it with everyone. More often than not, I'll settle for texting someone, but it just seems to lackluster. Hearing someone's voice and being able to give your full attention to talk with someone on the phone holds so much more value.

3. Sitting up straight. Silly and small, but considering I sit at my desk for most of the day, it's probably best that I work on my posture. I have an awful posture and I should really do something about it, especially since I have scoliosis.

4. Turning to prayer for my answers. I'm a girl with a bunch of questions that never really seem to get answered. Lately, I've found that some of my questions don't even have clean-cut defined answers as much as I ask others and as much as I think about it. When it comes to that, clearly, the only way to get my answer is through prayer and through Christ. There's really no better way.

5. Enjoying the beautiful angelic morning. One Sunday evening, not too long ago, I remember dreading the idea of having to wake up and go into work the following morning. I had no real reason, I just didn't want to do it. Then I realized, it's a waste of my energy and my emotions. The way you feel about something really does play a major role in how things work out, and as silly as it sounds, it really is best to go into things excited, happy and grateful about life!

Okay, enough motivational mumbo-jumbo from me. I have to indulge in life a litte more before I really feel inspiring!

Sincerely,

Cybill

{Photo Credit}

And Here We Are Again

I'm still here. I'm still alive. This blog may be on life support, but it's not dead.

These past few weeks have fun-ish a ride. Some ups, definitely some downs and ultimately, I'm standing here, confused as to which direction is the right direction, and whether there is a right direction at all. 

So, I've stayed in Orlando over the weekend a few times now. I've tried that whole "explore where you live" thing. Two evenings in a row, I even went out downtown to check out Orlando's nightlight, and perhaps made a few "friends" (let's use that term loosely). But don't ask me if I'm in love yet (or possibly ever). I may just laugh...out loud and in your face. 

Now, don't get me wrong. Staying in town and going out, having brunch the next day, that was all fun. But, most of the reasons I enjoyed myself was because of the company, and isn't that how it usually goes? One of my closest friends from college was in town and the two of us, along with another girlfriend of ours from college checked out the Orlando nightlight. Short evening short, we ended up calling it a night around midnight. Clearly, we can't hang the way we used to in college. 

Anyways, there's that side of the Orlando life and then there is what takes up most of my time, work. Work has been keeping be busy. It's the reason I get up at the hour I do. The company I have at work is great. Truth be told, if it wasn't for the company and all the fun stuff, it'd definitely make things far more difficult. And I say that with a few things in mind, so here me out...

Day-after-day, we're constantly working to please our clients. It's the nature of the beast. Yet, week-after-week, they don't seem happy with what we're delivering. Can we do more? Perhaps. But do we have the resources? No, we don't. And I'm starting to loose all hope in it and once again, I'm second guessing my "career" choice. 

Is there a reason I should keep on trying to please these people who never seem grateful? Is there even a point to it at the end of the day? What I do, it doesn't make anyone breathe easier. I don't go to bed at night knowing that someone's life is better because of what I did that day and I'm starting to second guess if this what I want to turn into a career?

Ultimately, I know that my answer is No. But until I'm through with this lease on my apartment and I figure out a plan to change things, I guess this is the game to play.

{Photo Credit}

Owning Up

Hi everyone. I know, I know. I'm an awful blogger. Considering my last blog post was April 24 and it's now May 5th (Happy Cinco de Mayo, by the way), it's plain to see that I'm not a frequent flyer on this blog. And while that is true, there's more to the story than that. There's not that much more, though. Truth be told, I'm usually just tired when I get back from work most days and I decide to nap instead of blog. There is also that fact that the hours seem to fly by. Seriously, it's practically 8 p.m. and I feel like I got back to my apartment not too long ago.

Anyways, let's me try to tell you about something interesting! This weekeend, I visited my lovely roommate (college roommate) and friend, Carling! I guess it comes at no surprise that I didn't stick around Orlando. Since I've started working downtown, I've stayed in Orlando once. Yes, you read that correctly, once...and I started working here in March. But that's besides the point...

I spent this past weekend in Jacksonville and it was great! It was nice being with really good friends. There's a level of comfort when getting together with an old friend. They know you and you know them. There is no need to apologize for burping or question whether or not they have something in their closet you can steal; you already know the answer. And, I've realized, living alone...the laughs and simple day-to-day friendship makes a hard day so much better.

While in Jacksonville, I also got to spend some time with my friend, Dan. Now, before you get into thinking the relationship between Dan and I is anything but platonic, let me stop you. Dan and I are friends, and we'll never end up together, despite what a few of my coworkers believe. Aside from that, spending time with Dan and Carling (as well as some of our friends) was great! I actually have friends, despite what it feels like while I'm in Orlando.

That, ladies and gentlemen, was my weekend. Nothing fancy, nothing crazy, but everything I needed this weekend. Time with good friends and good bit of food!

I should probably add the small fact that the large amount of food continued onto today. We had a Cinco de Mayo potluck at work and let me tell you...I wanted nothing more than to crawl under the conference room and nap after lunch. SO. MUCH. FOOD. But really, it was great!

Alrighty, I should probably go...but skip a real dinner. Considering everything I ate, I should just look at food and call it a night. I'll see about getting better about updating...and perhaps living a life worth sharing!

Sincerely,

Cybill 

Tribulations Never Told

At one point or another I'm sure we've all been there. We've reached a point during the day when the only thing to make anything and everything better would be for the day to end...or a nap. I'm sure during a solo drive or two, we've all been moved to emotional exhaustion that tears or screaming obscurities at the top of our lungs is a rational reaction. We've all been there. We've all been in the gutter, but we smile like we're among the stars.

These past to weeks have been rough, but not in the typical sense. Work hasn't been stressful. If anything, it's been oddly calm and I've been scratching and digging for things to do. However, it's been a blessing, because I haven't been feeling all too great. I don't know what it is exactly. My Mom and I think my body is still fighting my sickness from August and after some blood work, my doctor (not Mr. MD from the ER) doesn't know what's wrong with me. One thing for sure, I'm not 100%. Last week, I had a low grade fever and would end the day in bundled up buried under my blanket. Most of my evenings after work this week were spent the same way. I'd be so tired, when I'll come back to my apartment, I'd nap, skip dinner (because I'm so tired) and just sleep until I have to get up the next morning for work.

However, despite not feeling like I'm on my A-game, I dared not tell anyone at work. I'm not one who likes feelings of pity, nor am I someone who wants that kind of attention. I know a few people who like so, and while we're not riding that same wave length, I won't judge...at least, I won't judge out loud and on this blog. Ultimately, it's just not my thing and I don't want to feel like my co-workers think I can't hang. I also don't want them to feel guilty and tell me to go home, when clearly I can work through things. Hopefully, I'll be feeling loads better soon so I can get into a regular blogging schedule. Today was a good start, let's hope there is more to come!

Sincerely,

Cybill

{Photo Credit}

Renting Is A Struggle

Trying to find a place, renting it and moving is a struggle, y'all. And it is real. In a matter of two days my feelings of moving to a new city have developed into the feelings of moving to new state. That state is the State of Anxiety.

Hit one. After submitting my rental application and dropping my deposit at the post office, I received an email informing me the property was no longer available. Seriously? Why did I go through all the trouble of sending and scanning the application? Why couldn't you have told me you received and application you were going to accept. Not cool, dude.

Let's just say, after receiving this email, I wanted nothing more than to curl back up in my bed and possibly cry. I didn't cry though. Instead, I curled up on the couch for a bit and then began to search for another place. I also contacted the realtor I've been speaking to, with the hopes that he knew of other one bedroom apartments.

Holla! Cory (the realtor) came through! Though where I'm living will turn out to be more expensive (this apartment isn't furnished & cable, electricities and the like aren't included in the monthly rent) there are some positives. I'll be a lot closer to the office. So close, in fact, that I'll be able to walk to work. While the Florida heat may not be favorable for that, I'd feel silly driving when I'll be living half a mile (or a 10 minute walk) away. Another plus! There is a washer and dryer in the unit. I don't know about you guys, but that's practically like gold to me. Reason in being, you can do laundry whenever you want and as someone who likes the option of doing laundry at any hour and wearing old beat up pajamas it's gold. Real gold! However, this is more to this story...

Hit two. General rental applications is a hit to an already bruised ego. I totally get the need for a credit check, but when you know I'm currently unemployed and moving to a new city for work, you'd think you'd get a direct answer to the questions I've asked. Wrong. I've been asking the same questions over and over and receiving little feedback. There's also the emails that include include a suggested solution to keep the process moving froward. Let's pick up the up take, people!

Despite all of this, I'm trying to stay optimistic. Something has to work out, right? Besides, it's only Wednesday and while my hopeful move-in date is quickly approaching, there is still time to light a fire under someone's butt...or call them crying.

I also want to go ahead and apologize now. I feel as if I sound like one of those girls. You know the type. Their Facebook is nothing more than a constant stream of complaints in regard to how their life is so hard and their cry for pity is palpable. I don't want to be one of those girls. I want to be someone who figures things out. I want to be someone who takes the advice of Tim Gun and who "makes it work." So, that's what I'm going to do...or what I've been doing while drafting this blog post — I've been replying to emails from the realtor and asking additional questions.

I'm going to share some GREAT news with you guys soon. I promise. It's the year of Kefi and this problem isn't going to stay a problem!

Sincerely,

Cybill

{GIF Credit//GIF Credit//GIF Credit}

Que Sera Sera

There is something to be said about going away and coming back home. It's probably why millions of people do it every day and the novelty will never wear off. There's the renewed appreciation for the familiar. They way your bed fits, just right. The fine balance of your pillows, not too soft, not to sturdy. The comforting smell, that not matter how old you are or where life takes you, the smallest hint of it and you know, home. 

There's also the small and unexplainable way your spirit just comes back rejuvenated. Indescribable, but undeniable. A part of you longs for the foreign adventure, but it's hard to fulling ignore the ease of breathing at home. The way the familiar surroundings break down the stiffness built in your spine. The knowing, where things are and where they belong, including yourself.

In the realm of careers, I'm still trying to find where I belong. Today, I welcomed the week with another Skype interview. It was the same company I spoke with a few weeks ago, but this time around, I didn't wear pajama pants, I wore gym shorts. Am I confident about it? Yes...and no. I'm confident in my answers and in myself, but I'm not confident in their feelings about me. Does that make sense? Ultimately, they weren't easy to read, but hakuna matata, right? I made it to another round. If this were American Idol, I'd have better chances at some air time. Oh well, I'll hope for the best and in regard to the rest, que sera sera, whatever will be, will be... (You have to love that rejuvenated kefi spirit!)


Sincerely,

Cybill

Bite Me

Disregarding the fact that it's the holiday season and joy should be the default emotion, I'm sulking and I don't care what you really think.

Chalk it up to whatever reason you can muster, but facts are facts and some things in life just suck. Finding out you have a flat tire when you need to get somewhere can be an example. Folding laundry is another. We all have them. Our "hate" list. Whether or not your list includes people is a different story, and my list isn't of that sort.

In efforts for full disclosure, I'm particularly peeved in regard to the job hunt. The job hunt is an unfortunate fact of life. You need money — if you boil things down to logistics, maybe you can get by without it — and you need a job to earn money. Landing a job usually requires applying to jobs. All facts understood. However, it doesn't make the process any less unpleasant.

Let me map out my thought process for you.

I am the type to research an agency, company or what have you, prior to sending an application. Research is a must, as you want to make sure you "click." As I was structured to be optimistic — a blessing and a curse — I find myself excited about joining a team. However, that isn't always the case.

After crafting an application consisting of a resume and doting cover letter, I wait. And wait. And wait. As cruel reality would have it, I don't here back. Yes, there is the standard, "Thank you for your application. We will review it carefully and contact you if you meet our qualifications," reply. There is also nothing. No confirmation. No salute to your efforts. No recognition of existence. To that, I say, BITE ME!

I've discussed this predicament with friends on multiple occasions. The feelings of frustration is present regardless of whether or not I hear anything, but which situation is worse? Receiving the "You're extremely talented, but we've selected another candidate that better suits our needs," email or nothing at all?

Whether or not you're asking me, I'm going to give you my opinion and I'll say, hearing nothing is a fate more cruel. On behalf of all applicants — specifically myself — we'd like some recognition of our efforts, despite how feeble you may consider our skills or attempts. Have some humanity...or some simple consideration for our time and efforts.

...okay, my disgruntled rant is over.

Sincerely,

Cybill

{GIF Credit}

New York, I Didn't Love You

Union Square Park | January 2013

With complete understanding that my feelings toward New York City may go against popular opinion, I have to state, New York, I didn't love you. Now, I'm not saying I hate you, because I definitely didn't hate you. I just wasn't happy when I was with you...

I was living in New Jersey and interning with an agency in NYC earlier this year. From January to April, for five days a week, I would wake up before the winter sunrise, catch a bus at a New Jersey mall and shlep over to Port Authority. From Port Authority, I would navigate through the city's underground tunnels to catch the N, Q or R train which dropped me off at the Union Square stop, that I was convinced was soaked with urine — yes, it smells that bad. Often arriving an hour before my office opened and an hour and a half before my supervisor reported to work, I'd hide away in a corner of the closest Pret, Starbucks or Panera to avoid the bitter cold. I hated all most if it.

To add to all of this, my roommate in New Jersey (who also happened to be family) seemed unpleasant during most occasions. Though a hard worker, her work just never seemed to bring her joy and believe me when I say, misery loves company.

Washington Square Park | April 2013

Despite her moodiness, premature sunsets and mind numbing cold, the free moments I spent in the city  hanging out with fellow interns did redeem NYC to a certain extent. (New York, you better thank those moments and those people. They showed me how some people can love you.)

With my meager salary (something every staff member marveled and laughed at whenever mentioned), I would sometimes forgo the warmth of hanging out in Pret, Starbucks or Panera — I couldn't afford to buy a $4 coffee everyday, espeically since free coffee was in the office. Those mornings I spent braving the cold, I'd often stroll through the streets of the city. In the early hours of the day, the streets lacked the hustle, bustle, push and shove that was notorious when wide awake. It was nice and I enjoyed it (except that one morning when an older man shoved pass me to get off the train — I'm looking at you, you old grouch). It was very Audrey Heprbun a la Breakfast at Tiffany's and I was Holly Golightly, except without the black dress, questionable trips to Sing Sing and "occupation" that would bring the disappointment from my mother to a whole new level.

At first, I'd keep my walks between 23rd street and Union Square. I'd stroll west and then south toward the office building. Nothing crazy. Nothing extravagant. One morning, I even decided to brave the cold and sit on a park bench in Madison Square. I was desperate for anything resembling fresh air at that point. However, that lasted all about two minutes, before I briskly walked into an Au Bon Pain to warm my hands which I swear was starting to crack from the cold.

Rooftop View | April 2013

Those first mornings venturing around the city probably didn't favor a growth of warm feelings. However, they did provide a some good stories with my fellow interns, Catrina and Lesley. Those stories provided the laughter that helped us survive life in the trenches. More often that not, I'd worry the laughter from Catrina would lead to reprimands from our supervisors. I didn't realize my mishaps — like taking the ill-advised deep breath exiting a subway train — were so funny Catrina couldn't control her laughter, maybe they were so pathetic they became funny.

One of my favorite moments was the afternoon Catrina and I snuck up to the roof of the office building, disregarding any and every sign that stated an alarm would ring. With the door ajar, we doubted the alarm even worked and our audacity rewarded us greatly. Not only were we able to get an amazing view of the city, we found a future lunch spot, void of any crowds, but busting at the seams with some well deserved "fresh air." That spot was perfect when the weather finally warmed up mid-April.

In retrospect, New York City, with it's early sunsets, bitter cold chill and stern-faced residents wasn't too bad. Would I say my feelings have changed, no, but I would go back to visit. Maybe my love or admiration for the city takes more than a few months...maybe I can learn to love it...maybe.

Sincerely,

Cybill 

30 Is The New 20, So They Said

Today, I woke up to a Facebook message from a friend of mine. With her best intentions, she sent me a link to a talk Meg Jay, a clinical psychologist, gave at TED earlier this year. In her talk, she defined the importance of your 20s and as I found it fitting for this blog, so I had a share.



While I'm sure Meg had every intention to inspire 20-somethings to capitalize on where they are in life (and I'm sure she did just that), I'm not going to lie, I was a little taken aback, not necessarily in what she was saying, but the gravity of it. I mean, it really does make sense. Your 20s, our 20s, they are important. They're stepping stones into what will hopefully be a beautiful life.

Yes, we may take a few side steps. If you're like me, you make even feel like you've taken a step back, but that's the beauty of it, right? You're turning it into a dance and that dance becomes your 20s. And all of this heart ache and all of the disappointment builds you to be stronger and wiser. It becomes your "developmental sweet-spot," that we should really understand and capitalize. It isn't about trying on different hats not for the sake of saying you did it, but perhaps, it's more like trying on different hats in order to find that hat that best fits you, to find the hat that was made to fit you.

Sincerely,

Cybill

A Lesson In...The Bigger Picture

St. George Island, Florida | January 2012

"Patience child, patience. Remember, life is a journey. If you got everything you wanted all at once there'd be no point to living. Enjoy the ride, and in the end you'll see these 'set backs' as giant leaps forward, only you couldn't see the bigger picture in the moment. Remain clam, all is within reach; all you have to do is show up everyday, stay true to your path and you will surely find the treasure you seek." 

-- Jackson Kiddard

My friend, Vassi, and I seem to have a reoccurring conversation, and more often than not, we're brought to the topic of our anxiety for the unknown and our expectations for our future. Like most girls, we've daydreamed about our future weddings, how our husbands' would look and the names of our children. But we're also concerned with our careers, the path we're taking and whether what we're doing right now, is what we're suppose to be doing. 

Looking back as we work our way through our twenties, it's plain to see our lives have been mapped out until now. In elementary school, we knew high school would be when we felt the freedom at came with earning a driver's license. In high school, we knew college would bring freedom of being on our own. However, now that college is behind us, we've asked each other, "What's next?" "What now?"

For some, the road they drive along and the path they follow means graduate school. Right now, Vassi is in medical school, however, I am on a road to what I hope will be an inspiring career in Public Relations. Yet, I'm still left with doubt.

Not too long ago I found myself sitting at my desk questioning, "Is that what I really want to do?" Right off the bat, I knew that was bad sign. It's one thing to be uninspired and it's another to be uninspired and doubtful. Thus, not too long after, I said my goodbyes and left New York City to return home. 

Surrounded by family and friends, blanketed by the warmth of the Florida sunshine, I got a good dose of words that I needed and wanted to hear. I'm also getting a good dose in the lesson of patience and traveling the journey of life.

The set back of being unemployed is unfortunate and I would never wish that burden on anyone. But just as Jackson Kiddard says these "sets backs" are giant leaps forward, and I'm learning just that. While where I am right now isn't where I had hoped to be, what I've done leading up to this moment, to today, they're things I've always wanted to do.

I was able to travel to Hawaii and New Zealand. I got to fly Business Class (it's nice how the other half flies, by the way). I got to see family I haven't seen in ten years and meet a cousin I had never met!

In terms of the bigger picture, these are the strokes I want to paint, these are the colors I want to use, and I hope, as I continue down this path, it'll be a picture I'll be proud to call my life.

What "set backs" have turned out to be beautiful strokes in your bigger picture?

Sincerely,

Cybill