My Career Formula is Laughable

"I'd like to be happy," I respond. I receive a chuckle and a quizzical look, but I still share a grin with my inquisitive conversational partner. The reaction's expected. I've answered with this sound bite before and I'll repeat it again in the future.

The question?

"So, what do you want to be after you graduate?"

It's not a conventional answer, my "happy" response. As a matter of fact, it could (and may well) be categorized as the wrong answer. I should say that I want to be a strategist or a gaffer or an account executive or a carnival worker. Really, anything would better than "happy" according to the look on most inquiring faces.

However, for me, that is my answer: I want to be happy. No matter the position, no matter the company, no matter the cubicle, office, or flickering light above my desk that facilities says is on the to-do list but has remained flickering for weeks, I want to be happy with my work.

Too broad? Too optimistic? Too sentimental? Maybe. But not lacking in metrics. Happiness, specifically at work, requires the following:

1. Positively affecting others.
   
2. Constantly expanding knowledge for personal, professional, and emotional growth.

That's my career formula. Basic, but mine. Idealistic, but mine. Laughable, but mine,

What's your formula?

My brillant idea: Biking

I own a bike. It is a nice bike: two wheels, a seat, brakes. It is blue.

Might I also add that the tires still have those little caterpillar feelers on them?

Yes, I own a bike but do I use it? That would be a hearty, "No."

Until recently, that is.

This week, I not only realized that one of my internships is next to the bike path, but my friends also realized this fact. And, being excellent people, I was inclined to agree to their request for an evening of joyous biking.

And it was joyous! Like flying, I say! Or flying with wheels. Or flying on the ground, with wheels. Or, perhaps it would be better to say that it was very similar to biking, which was exactly what we were doing.

Hm.

Nonetheless, it was splendid (save for a rather sore bottom - darn those seats!) and I decided to do it again this morning.

Before: Look at the excitement that thumbs-up exudes!

After: Look at the excitement those...feet exude! Or exhaustion. Either/or.

After an epic 45-minutes (or 30-minutes, perhaps) to the tune of Josh Groban on my iPod, I returned triumphant - and promptly passed out in the garage. It was an elegant passing out, mind you. Only surpassed by the Russian ballet. Or stampeding elephants. Either way, I hit the deck moments after dismounting, fighting nausea like whoa. Note: No vomiting occurred in the making of this Fail Event.

Pathetic? Yes. Ever-so typical of my life? Yes, yes it was.

Maybe fewer hills next time. And yes, there will be a next time. (Maybe a small engine would help...)

Driving Ms. Coffee-Mobile

My car smells like coffee.

Praise be to all that is holy and NOT moldy!

I know, odd opener, eh? Allow me to expound:

Three weeks ago my car flooded. It rained. I was parked over a drain. On the bottom of a hill. To say the very least, the event caused half a gallon of water to make its home under my carpeting.

Silver Toyota smack in the middle? My lovely vehicle...taking a bath. Without my permission.

I vacuumed most of the water out with the Industrial Wet Vac of DOOM (Trademark pending) but there was this - oh, how to say it? - murky smell left over. Now, until this tragic event, my car smelled like a new. Yes, a brand-spanking new car with a brand-spanking new car smell. It was clean and shiny and it smelled awesome...until my precious little Toyota decided it wanted to play Noah and the Ark, that is.

It's been three weeks and after many nights with open windows, one or two additional vacuum sessions, and 90 bags of Green Mountain Coffee** later...it smells, well, like coffee. Which, really, is better than mold, so I put this in the "Way-to-go, girlfriend" column.

Now I drive a cafe on 4-wheels. If only I drank coffee...

**"90 bags of Green Mountain Coffee? Two points, 1)Did you rob a store and 2) May I have some of that jivin' java?" 1) No. I intern at GMCR and needed to transport a number of Fair Trade Organic coffees to a building far, far away. I also hauled the coffees up 2-flights of stairs, if I do say so myself. 2) Well, yes, just not the one's I picked up. Buy it yourself - it smells great, so it must taste pretty good.

Too much to do in too little time

It's in poor taste to complain about good opportunities. Good opportunities that only fall into the complaining category due to the fact that one, such as myself, has too many of them.

Yes, you heard me: Too many good things are happening to me.

I have three - count 'em - three internships: One for agency PR, one for corporate PR, and one for video production. I also have a part-time job and two classes to complete this summer. And now, thanks to wonderful people thinking well of me, I have a chance to work on another video project for a state-wide concert series.

The truth: I never saw any of it coming.

Yes, I worked very hard these opportunities to magically appear - I "stalked" two of my bosses AKA submitted letters of interest in October of last year, pulled out more than a few miracles in my video classes, and lined up good quality work to show whomever I stumbled upon. And yet, this shower of work-oriented blessings blindsided me. Pure and simple.

Now, I find myself looking at the descriptors of "detail-oriented" and "problem-solver" on my resume and going, "Well, I suppose this summer has shown that I really, truly am. But can I be with another item on my plate?"

One more plate to spin. A gilded, beautiful plate, but still, another plate.

Did I mention I really, really like that plate, too?

I suppose this now means that I am in poor taste. Complaining about opportunities. What a silly thing to complain about.

Thank you, Amanda at Edelman Digital

Hi Amanda,

Thank you for speaking with me earlier this month to discuss your emerging guru status at Edelman Digital. I appreciate the time and care you put into telling me about your views of new media and listening to my laundry list of questions about the industry. For that alone, you deserve an award.

With you as proof, Edelman sounds like both a challenging and exciting place for young professionals to get their feet wet in the industry. With the growing demand for digital campaigns, I'm eager to see what my education, skills, and experience can add to the this realm of public relations. As someone who just returned from China, a place where social media is only budding, I can say that digital media literally lives on the frontier.

Again, thank you for your time and insights. I very much look forward to speaking with you in the future – with such interesting Tweets, I’m interested to see what else you have up your sleeve. In addition, if you have any recommendations of other professionals that I could speak with at Edelman, I would greatly appreciate the opportunity. Please feel free to contact me here, by email (Kristen.mercure@gmail.com), or on Twitter (mercurek).

Yours truly,

Kristen Mercure

China Disconnect

I knew my return from the Middle Kingdom would be a shock. The time-change (12 hours), the food (...what, no pickled beets for breakfast?), the sheer number of Westerners.

But I did not anticipate my greatest shock: Plugging back in.

In China, I was unplugged, in part by choice and in part due to the location. I did not bring my laptop or cellphone with me; and even when I was at a computer, the Great Fire Wall of China did not allow me to surf the Internet in a normal manner.

Therefore, when I woke up in Vermont yesterday morning (...okay, afternoon), I anxiously waited as my computer booted up and my browser popped up with my bookmarks: Blogs, news, Twitter, Facebook, comics, and e-mails.

[Oh, the e-mails. One address alone had over 100 unread messages, many of which I have no idea how to respond as I've been out of the loop for 14-days. Some face-to-face time with the senders will improve my response time. At least, I hope.]

But I hesitated. I hovered over my Twitter log-in and thought, "Would it hurt to push this off for just a little while longer?" It's difficult to go from such an acute connection to the digital world to an all encompassing one. For two weeks, I blogged on my trip to China via e-mail and that's it. No Twitter, Facebook, or RSS Feeds. I'll admit that the initial severance was disorienting - where was my connection to the outside world? The answer to that question turned out to be, "Right outside your door." I talked to people. I walked, climbed, and Skyped with them. Interpersonal communication was my mode of connection in China and I got accustomed to it.

So accustomed, in fact, that the prospect of reconnecting gave me more than a moment or two of pause. Did I really want to open up the new media can of beans again?

Yes. Yes, I did. I updated my status on Facebook, Tweeted my adventures, and logged on to this very blog.

China disconnect over; Vermont connection complete.

Go West, my friend!

China is only 2 days away. Two days. I can't wrap my mind around it and yet, I've managed to get my packing done. Of course, I had to go out and buy a new bag and the entire thing may weigh that of a small child, but who really cares about that?

...other than my parents, that is.

As I'll be in China very soon, I'm sending anyone who reads along with me to our group's official China Mojo blog:

http://chinamojovt.wordpress.com/

You'll get to follow our entire journey through our writings, photos, and videos. I know it'll a pretty fabulous/overwhelming/exciting experience, so come along with us...at least, through our blog!