An Open Letter to An Open-Minded Manager

{As some of you may or may not know, I have been working as a full-time temporary employee for the last 16 months (read: no vacation, no sick time, no employer-sponsored health or dental coverage, no contribution to a retirement plan, no security).  While I love what I do, passion is not enough to pay student loans and eat.

In the next few weeks, as the grant monies that fund my position slowly get spent away, I will be let go.  I have been searching and applying for new work with an increased fervor in the last month, but with little results.  It's a tough market out there, folks. 

I have not been offered a position or hired yet, but someday someone will call.  This is a letter to that someone who takes a chance and says "We would be delighted if you would join our team."}

Dear Hiring Manager,

Congratulations, today you have made an excellent decision for the progress of your organization! Today, you took a chance and you hired me.  And I promise to make that a decision you can be happy with for a very long time.

You recognized that my varied interests and experiences translate into a fresh and adaptable young employee. You saw that I can (and do!) become passionate about everything I do, and you have offered me an environment that encourages my creativity and gently guides my growth. As much as I tried to remain calm and graceful in the interview, my chattiness certainly overshadowed whatever poise I had intended to present to you. Thank you for recognizing that as a strength of a strong and open communicator who loves nothing more than to share information in a novel way, to give large and engaging presentations, to meet with colleagues or stakeholders and have honest and meaningful discussion.

I cannot express to you my excitement to join your team.  The road from graduate school to a professional career has been a bit tumultuous over the last couple of years. Turns out, the years that are "great to be a student" really stink to be a recent graduate... but I am excited to be released of the burden that uncertainty can cause so that I can really focus on my work.  I am excited to create quality work for this organization and develop tools and products that can be shared so that others may learn from what we do.  I am excited to learn from others; in the workplace, in the industry, in the community. I am excited to be a positive force in my workplace-- someone who thinks and speaks highly of others, someone who expresses gratitude to those around me, and someone who occasionally tells a lively and engaging story or two! I am excited that you and your organization have committed to me and my professional growth. I intend to commit to this organization and this work in the same way.

I am dedicated to this position and this organization.

I am motivated to create positive change in my community and that will be reflected in any work I do.

I am ready to face each challenge with a balance of professionalism, creativity, and enthusiasm that cannot be learned in any program-- it is unique to me.

I may never know what it was about my application or my interview that made you take a second look or made you say, "Let's give her a call." All I know is that on the first day that I enter the office, I am going to bring with me a passion and work ethic that makes you feel certain you have made the right choice.  And a plant; I am going to bring with me a plant.

Thank you, again, for the opportunity. 

Sincerely,

Katie

P.S. See you Monday!

Analytically Speaking

I would love to say I use Google Analytics to maximize my readers' experience of my blog. 

I don't.

I basically use it to spy on you.  Where do you live? What are you reading? How did you get here?

My favorite is to see what term people searched for to end up at my blog. Below are some of the stranger ones:

1. scientific law (Yes, the words written in this blog are scientific law. Or, they should be.)
2. what is fartlekking (The seventh circle of Hell.)
3. atheist cat (What.)
4. drugging your cat (I didn't really drug him. I hope this person finds the, uh, advice they were looking for...)
5. fartlekking (The seventh circle of Hell.)
6. girl panics on febreeze commercial (Well, a giant-ass fish swims through a living room. You would panic too)
7. mugwump cat (Ha! He needs his own blog. [Right now the Boyfriend is groaning and thinking "Oh my god, she's going to start a blog from her cat's perspective." No I'm not, because imagining Boyfriend thinking that was enough satisfaction!])
8. what's a fartlek (The seventh circle of Hell.)
9. "Every morning in Africa a gazelle wakes up.  It knows it must move faster than the lion or it will not survive.  Everyone morning in Africa a lion wakes up and knows it must be faster than the slowest gazelle or it will starve.  It does not matter if you are the lion or the gazelle. When the sun comes up, you better be moving." (Love this quote. And now love whomever searched for it. Love love love.)
10. turtleneck swimsuit (What?)
11. Bob Costas sauna (WHAT?! Gross.)
12. don't feed the grad students (no truer advice has ever been spoken)
13. "convention of international sale of goods" undersized shrimp (Ha! Reason #238 dating a lawyer brings me joy. Also, isn't the very nature of shrimp that they are 'undersized'?)
14. grad school makes you fat (Who are you calling fat, you big cow?!)
15. national escargot day (I am assuming this comes from an Obscure Holidays post...)
16. activate mugwump (Ha! Read this as "Activate: Mugwump!" and it just has a certain superhero je ne sais quoi about it. Love)
17. Bob Costas is a punk (that's more like it)
18. Border collie hypersensitve (Googler, you get it.)
19. Bubble bath wine (You definitely get it).
20. funny sentence with mugwump in it (Hmm, I don't think I have any of those.  But I have something better! A bunch of funny sentence written by a Mugwump! Right? Right?!)
21. modern battle pants (What?) (I want some.)
22. obscure holiday for "women" (Why put women in quotes? Couldn't it just be 'obscure holiday for women'? Googler must have been a "man.")
23. sushi touched my soul (What.)
24. uzbekistan got skipped (I hate when that happens.)
25. ways to explain parking in a snow emergency (I'll explain it now: Everyone parks like an idiot. You can too! Yay!)

So. Darn. Funny. Thanks, Googlers!

I Don't Even Know What 'Hyponatremia' Is, but I Do Not Want It

Part of being a well-prepared marathoner is the physical training. Up the hill. Down the hill. 8 miles. 10 miles. A half marathon. 16 miles. Wind. Rain. Beating sun. You gotta get used to all of that.  Plus, learn to love blisters. 

The other part of being a well-prepared marathoner is to know as much as possible about race day.  What time do I need to be at the start? Where can I park? How many racers are there? When can I expect to see a water stop? How many satellite bathrooms are available and where? And most importantly (I think): what do I do if I get into trouble?

It is no secret that running a marathon is a bit stressful on one's body and the need for some medical attention on race day is common.  In order to prepare myself, today I read Twin Cities in Motion's medical procedures for the marathon. 

I found most of the information to be super helpful.  For one, I love a good color-coded system that tells me how the weather conditions may affect runners.  Also, it is good to know that there are over 300 medical staff and they are wearing orange.  This is important.

But some of the information, I found a little more amusing. Or maybe ironic? I am not sure.  Below, in the bolded text  you can read the policy and in the red italicized text you can read my thoughts on that policy.


"Runners who are ill should not start."
You cannot convince me that there is a single person who signed up for a marathon that is even close to being in their right mind.  All these runners are 'ill.'

This next part is in reference to their Impaired Runner Policy.

To be allowed to continue the race, a runner must:

a) be able to proceed in a straight path toward the finish line;
This would be easier to do if the race was a straight path towards the finish instead of weaving all over the Cities to add up to an obscene number of miles. I know the distance between Minneapolis and Saint Paul is not 26.2 miles...
b) be able to explain who they are, where they are on the course, and what they are doing;
In the best of health and clarity of mind, I would probably be able to tell you who I am.  But in the middle of a marathon there is no way I am going to know why I am on that course or what I am doing. I am going to think I have lost my mind a long time before any medical professional suspects it. I might already be thinking I have lost my mind.
c) look clinically fit to proceed with good skin color and body appearance
d) be able to maintain a reasonable running posture.
Both (c) and (d) assume you started the race with these things... which just might not be totally true for all of us.

Downed runner procedures:

When a runner goes down during or immediately after the race, the medical team will assess for cardiac arrest, exertional heat stroke, hyponatremia, insulin shock, and exercise associated collapse; begin first aid; and transfer.
Please also assess me for the common medical ailment "Worn the eff out."

The medical response plan includes advanced life support ambulances and bike teams with automatic defibrillators.
'Advanced life support?!' Dear god.

All runners are encouraged to provide family and friends with their race number in case of a medical emergency.

When my race number is assigned, you will likely be able to find it here, in some sort of email with paragraphs upon paragraphs of emergency information, as well as posted to social media sites such as Facebook and Twitter.  I just want to have all my bases covered.  In case something happens. Which it won't.

Honestly, I am not too worried-- I feel healthy, I know my limits and if I get overwhelmed during the race there is no harm in leaving the course. A finisher's medal is not worth losing my health or knee joints.  And it's comforting to know all this effort is going in to making sure every racer that day has the healthiest marathon possible.

A Reflection on 72 Hours of Wilderness

I have been attempting to compose, organize, and draft my thoughts on my recent trip to the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness (BWCA) for several days now, but it is much harder than I thought.  Perhaps, much like the photos I captured while there, my storytelling can't really do that part of the world the justice it deserves. 

I thought about giving you the play by play-- detailing each lake, each portage, each mosquito-infested campsite, and relaying the horrors that are northwoods latrines. 

But it still didn't seem big enough.

So what I came up with is quite a bit simpler, a little more abstract.

To be in a wilderness so dense and unspoilt is an incredibly humbling experience. The moment the paddle shatters the reflected forest on the surface of the cool, clean lake I had to involuntarily surrender control to my environment. The weather, downed trees, nosy wildlife; they all have the ability to overpower the skills I bring with me.  There is only a small smattering of people, scattered few and far between, and travelers can't count on seeing anyone.  You certainly can't count on anyone having a working communication device. 

Those things in mind, I think it is a space that redefines 'trouble.'  To be in trouble here at home (flat tire, late bus, broken appliance, and so on) is really to be inconvenienced.  To be in trouble in the BWCA is to be in trouble.

To be in the BWCA is also empowering.  There is that beautiful feeling of chasing (and then catching!) an experience many people don't get to have.  It is a place ripe for accomplishing many things, from the simple breakfast cooked over a camp stove to the 232 rod portage.  It fosters a great sense of independence and self-reliance.  At the same time, it makes one put a lot of trust in the person they travel with-- trust that that person will have your best interests and safety in mind, trust that that person will communicate, trust that that person will not get (too) frustrated. 

I think I may have said this about rural North Dakota too, but if there is such thing as 'God's Country,' the BWCA is it.  I cannot think of many places that I have been to that inspired me with a sunrise, amazed me  and challenged throughout the day, instilled great fear and respect for my surroundings in me as the sunset washed the world in a purple shadow, and then gently rocked me to sleep with the most stars I have ever seen in one night and the gentle lullabye of wilderness in the nighttime. 

My words, like photos that just look like water, trees, and sky, do not begin to really describe this magnificent place.

Home Makeover: Modern Mugwump Edition

Did a little makeover to my living room this weekend, courtesy of nice-guy-who-didn't-turn-out-to-be-an-ax-murderer who was selling an IKEA television stand that just happens to be, like, the missing piece from my collection. Seriously, so perfect.

I know I just moved in a few months ago, so you are probably wondering why I felt the need to rearrange.  When you figure out that answer, let me know because sometimes I really would love to just leave things as they are, omigod stop MOVING AND CHANGING EVERYTHING. Creative minds cannot be contained (see: selling my art, running a marathon, inventing "dream life scenarios" that mirror every single real life scenario I have, but flashier) and thus the furniture got all shifted around.

Before: messy and cavernous. Way too large for Cat and I.

After: messy still, because I live here (duh.).

Photos are a little hard to get the whole gist, but simply: one huge room is now 2 functional spaces. Move. The. Eff. Over. Martha Stewart. Eat my zen furniture dust (and boy was it dusty under that couch! whew). 

Unfortunately, Cat was a bit skeptical of the changes for a while.  I am not totally sure why but I can guess a few reasons:

1. He cannot both chew on the blinds and get his claws stuck in the couch at the same time.  

2. I spend more time in the seating area, but I put his toy den in the other half. He may think this is foolish oversight on my part, but I can assure you I am happy to have the stupid mouse with the freakish light up eyes somewhere where I don't watch scary movies. 

Anyway, he spent most of the day "hiding" from me.  He's real stealthy, see? 

But it didn't take him long to get back to his ol' self.

And he even warmed right up (literally) to the sunshiney place his perch is in.

Guest Bloggin' Like a... *

Just can't get enough of the Modern Mugwump? Wish you knew what was going on in my life at this. very. second?!

Really? That's creepy.  Cut it out.

Well, today you gotta check me out at Finding a Balance-- the blog of friend and Ragnar Relay 2009 teammate, Hyedi.

And since you came all the way to my blog, and I don't want to leave you empty handed, I give you this:

*NOTHING witty rhymes with "bloggin'"

On the Plains of North Dakota

Beautiful? Sure.  For a little bit.

By hour 8 on Interstate 94, headed westward through North Dakota from Minneapolis, this view gets a little old.  In fact, by the 8th hour in the car you have run out of stories for your road trip teammates to catch up on your hectic summer life.  You have already passed the giant bison in Jamestown:

and the world's largest holstein cow in New Salem (I don't know those people):



Apparently, this cow's name is Salem Sue.  Thanks, Google!

The land, while beautiful, is so empty that even your game of "those are my cows" has fizzled.  There simply are no cows to claim.  As the car travels west, the soft, flat landscape of the Dakota plains begins to give rise to a few rocky bursts as we hit the very earliest signs of the North Dakota Badlands and one road trip teammate cracks an "I like big buttes" joke that gets far more laughter than it deserves. Everything is funny during the 8th hour.

The road is flooded about 50 miles out of Dickinson, ND (our final destination) and everyone slows to a painful 45 miles per hour after sailing across the state at 80 or 85.  Passengers are overwhelmed by the feeling that we never want to be in a car again. For the rest of our lives. 

Phone calls and texts from Dickinson start coming in with less than an hour to go: "We're all checked in, can't wait to see you guys!" "Are you close?" "Will you pick up at least one case of beer?" "I think the groom's dinner includes free beer and wine." These messages feel like twinkling lights on the horizon-- we will make it and it will be good.

And it was good.  In truth, as boring as the drive can be at times, you cannot at some point be overwhelmed by the beauty and serenity of huge plots of land that remain virtually untouched.  It made me think, If there is such thing as 'God's country,' this truly must be it. And there is a charm to small towns that cannot be matched by the excitement and glamour of bustling cities.  Residents and strangers alike are all old friends, and life moves at a pace that allows one to truly enjoy a lively conversation over a hot breakfast and the summer breeze caught in the veil of a new bride.

Though a thousand-mile-round-trip-in-the-span-of-72-hours mini-vacation wasn't always riveting, the truth is I would have traveled much further and much longer to celebrate the wedding of dear friends, who now embark on a far greater journey of love, partnership, and compromise. 

May they continue to laugh at one another's 'big butte' jokes and not take every opportunity to kill the other's cows with each passing cemetery.

25 Things of Importance from My 25th Year

I kicked off the 25th year by going to the Red Bull Flugtag in Saint Paul.  Grown adults, about 6-8 per team, build falling flying machines and throw them into fly them over the Mississippi river.  Very fantastic way to celebrate one's birthday!

Brewhouse Triathlon in Duluth, MN.  This trip also included my first time swimming in Lake Superior and a chance to see the beautiful tall ships in a special event in the Duluth Harbor. 

The Muddy Buddy Race, where I learned that ski slopes are for skiing and mountain bikes are heavy.

A pop/rock concert with my grandma at the Target Center (American Idol on Tour).

Two lovely camping trips to the North Shore with two lovely friends, one of which who has a gift for cooking over a fire.

A trip to our nation's capitol, which I think should be called the City of Learning.  You cannot possibly be seeing Washington, DC right if you do not learn something.  Also got to see an exhibit by one of my favorite contemporary American artists, Chuck Close.

Defended my Masters thesis on a sunny Tuesday afternoon.

(So I am using my calendar to make sure I don't miss any important events) I wrote "Christmas Tree Extravaganza" on a weekend in December and at first couldn't figure out what on earth that meant.  But then I remembered: it means even as an adult, there is something very safe and a bit magical about getting to go to the home where you grew up, even if it is only 15 miles from your current home.

Right away into the new year I met someone who weekly reminds me to 'chill out,' taught me to play frisbee golf, also has good taste in beer, tells wonderful stories from around the world, routinely emails me "must hear this" music, and provides a lot of perspective when things feel chaotic.

The ladies of the family took a clay tiles class.  The lesson? Canvas and paint just makes more sense to me, but I did walk away with at least one awesome coaster and a cool trivet.

Had an article I wrote about going to ASA Fastpitch Nationals as a young teenager published in the ASA Softball magazine.

Weekend trip to Fort Myers, Florida to watch Twins Spring Training, hang out with two fabulous ladies, and eat delicious seafood at quirky restaurants.

Moved into my first "on my own" apartment in a quiet Saint Paul neighborhood.  Quickly discovered how expensive that is. 

Celebrated Mom's first 5K finish at the Get in Gear 5K at Minnehaha Park!

Toured local brewery, Surly, and fell in love with their story (I was already in love with the beer).

Bought a kitty.  Rescued a kitty.  I already can't remember what my home was like before he walked under my feet, meowed constantly, and left little bits of shredded [fill in with: paper, cardboard, styrofoam, flowers, spider plant]. 

Celebrated the graduation of 2 lawyers, a dentist, and a physical therapist.  My friends are freakishly smart.

Traveled to Decorah, IA for good beer and a lot of potato salad, good friends, a trombone quartet in a farm garage (as deer ran across the field- no kidding!), and 5 people in a tent.  Oh, and a dog the size of a horse. 

A long and trying few weeks responding to the North Minneapolis Tornado.  Today, I am proud to have been a small piece of the puzzle that helped bring the needed resources to those affected and hopefully in the coming months we will see a stronger Northside. 

Personal best time at the Buffalo Triathlon. Thank you, less hilly bike course!

Hung my first art show at the Minneapolis Skyway Senior Center.  Apparently drew a lot of opinions from some of Minneapolis's most experienced citizens...

Went to several Twins games (finally seeing Target Field) but the highlight had to be watching one from a suite.  Nothing makes me a fan like free food and cushy seats.

Enjoyed the Ordway's production of "Guys and Dolls" with Mom and Kim for Mother's Day/Kim's birthday.

Accepted and sponsored to present my work at a national summit in Atlanta, GA.

Started selling artwork on Etsy.  Sold 2 so far, although only to people I know...

It's been a good year.  I am feeling ready to head into the next quarter century!

Drugging Your Cat and Other Thursday Night Things To Do

A few weeks ago-- maybe even over a month now-- I became the owner/feeder/keeper of this charming orange ball of fury kitty.

This model of cat (who I named Jasper, after Jasper Johns who is a famous American artist) comes complete with 20 extremely sharp claws, a mouthful of needle sharp teeth, and one giant attitude.  Unfortunately, right after I got him, I was involved in the tornado response in North Minneapolis and any sense of regularity and schedule he and I had started to develop was totally destroyed.

Since then, we have had a series of minor, but no less annoying, owner-cat issues.  Some hyperactivity, some aggression, some attempts to destroy things that I would rather not have destroyed thankyouverymuch.  I tried feeding him more, and then less, and then different. We have reestablished a schedule, as much as possible.  We play for no less than 15 minutes every morning and every night.

And yet, the following things have happened this week:

1. At one point in the evening, I found him completely underneath my area rug in the living room.

2. He climbed through the blinds.  And then got stuck.

3. He wedged himself in the space between the storm window and the inside window. And then got stuck. 

4. He jumped onto the shower curtain rod. And then got stuck.

5. He spent 45 minutes at 3 AM jumping on the wall after a dead bug and letting the pads of his feet squeeeeeak all the way down the wall on his way back to the floor, where he landed with a thud! and a MEOW! before promptly jumping again. 

6. My feet have been attacked while I was doing the following: sweeping, sleeping, stepping into the shower, stepping out of the shower, coming into my apartment, leaving the apartment, sitting on the couch, feeding the cat.

And the truthiest truth  is that I love him for his quirks and the strange trouble he gets himself into. But tonight I was at Petco and I saw these treats (he loves a tuna treat!) that help calm cats.  Like, uh, kitty Xanax.  I had actually been told about this once before-- some herbal supplements to basically get your cat to just chill the eff out.  And I was totally against it! I wasn't going to drug my cat! I was simply going to love the bad behavior right out of him! 

At the moment I was walking away, I remembered a story a grad school classmate told me about traveling when she was a child.  When she was little her parents used to give all their kids Benadryl or some other drowsy-making medication that made them all zonk out for the duration of a flight or road trip.  So the kids basically had no recollection of traveling-- just being in new places.  It's not that these parents didn't love their kids, they just also valued their own sanity.  So for $5.99 I thought I would just try it, and if I ended up with some doped up, tuna treat addict for a cat, we could stop. Enter him into detox, and then stop, really.

I walked into the apartment at 5:47 PM and the moment of truth occurred just before 6 PM.  And guess what? He wasn't doped up, he didn't just crash and sleep the whole night.  In fact, he still got in a little bit of trouble.  But he wasn't on the verge of psychosis.  More importantly, I was not on the verge of psychosis. He was playful and he even bit me once, for old time sake.  But now, as we wind down for bed he is actually winding down.  Let the choir sing.  

The packaging says I can give him 1-2 per day.  $6 per pack, 21 treats in the pack = $2 per week for a happier household that I think we are both appreciating.  I can handle that. 

And Then There Were Nine (Again)

6 months ago, I regaled you with the tale of the first marathon training casualty. A little right pinkie toenail that disappeared into the night. Later, I gladly reported the little guy's return and a once again full set of stubby toenails.

It is with a heavy heart (but lighter foot?) that I report today the loss of the left pinkie toe toenail.

When I first decided to train for the ridiculous impossible foolish challenging marathon, the first piece of advice I got was "Read. Read. Read. Read everything and try everything." So I created some bookmarks, got a subscription to Runner's World, and starting amassing as much knowledge as possible. The first article I read? "101 Ways Running a Marathon Will Totally Destroy You and the 1 Single Way it Will Be Cool."* Way at the top of the 101 Ways This Will Be Miserable was the loss of toenails. And it was followed by all these phrases that tried to make the disappearance of a body part seem normative: 'It happens to everyone,' 'don't be alarmed' blah blah blah. Don't be alarmed when part of you is completely missing?! Please.

In my mind, I envisioned this bloody war between running shoe and human body, complete with the stained socks of battle, weeks of taping the toe in hopes of saving the nail, and finally the literal agony of defeat (de-feet?) when the little guy finally lost his will to be on my pinkie toe any longer. It was destined to be a battle that I was prepared to fight, even though I knew the end result would be the same.

But it didn't happen like that at all. No blood. No savagely bruised foot or toe. No futile efforts to save it. It just quietly slipped away. Less heroic and more like the little nail said, "Eff this, I am sick of being rubbed by this damn shoe all the time. I'm out."

In a lot of ways I am glad it went this way. Realistically, running socks aren't cheap and I didn't want to ruin a million pairs in a daily battle for toenails. Also, I bet most of you cringed more than once reading this because severe toenail pain is totally one of the worst kind of pains. I don't need that. But there is something about having this great battle story, the "mind-over-body, woman-goes-all-out-to-save-nail" epic that I feel I didn't get. I was prepared to fight for it, and my body didn't give me the chance.

Luckily, I have some MONSTER blisters to battle. Sexy.

*I mean, this could be a tiny bit of an exaggeration, but hardly.