Table for One

I like to think I'm a pretty independent woman - a woman that can do a lot of stuff on her own. I live alone. I go to movies alone a lot. I show up at parties alone. But, I do have one hang up and that is eating alone.

Last week I was in Napa Valley doing some site visits for an upcoming incentive trip my company is putting together for their top sales employees (I know, hard life I lead). In addition to the four hotels we were scouting, I also had a list of wineries to go view and some restaurants as well since we do a lot of off-site parties during this trip. Since the events department at my company is a lonely group of one (aka just me), I was doing this trip solo.

Looking at hotels and wineries was easy peasy because it's a totally professional part of my job and doing it alone is actually preferable. I can ask the questions I want and schmooze with the sales managers. The restaurants were a whole different story. I only had two to look at that could accommodate a party of our size so I figured I would just go to dinner at the two restaurants and consider that my site visit.

Easier said than done. When I got to Yountville, I was all set to eat dinner at Bistro Jeanty. After my last site visit, I wandered over to the restaurant and walked right past it and went into a local deli and bought a sandwich to bring back to my room to eat in front of the TV.

I have no idea why eating alone has struck such a big nerve with me. Like I said, I do a lot of things on my own and none of those present an issue. But when it comes to sitting down at a nice restaurant and eating dinner by myself, I just can't do it.

The next day I was going to drive into downtown Napa and check out another restaurant but wimped out at the last minute when I saw an In 'N Out and decided to eat there instead. Because for some odd reason I can eat by myself at fast food restaurants but diners or really any restaurant with a waiter presents a problem.

I guess it just boils down to me being embarrassed by the fact that I'm eating alone or fearing that people around me are judging me for the fact that I'm by myself at a restaurant. But with my corporate travel increasing a lot this past year, I really need to get over this fear. And fast.

Take Your Tie Off 2009

Around this time last year, I started itching for Spring Break. So me and two of my friends decided to keep alive the tradition of ditching all responsibilities for a week and headed off to Las Vegas. That vacation was great and included one very drunken night at the only Irish pub on the strip that left us hungover for the rest of our time in Sin City, lots of sing-alongs to "Damaged" by the band formerly known as Danity Kane, and one very interesting experience at Cirque du Soleil. 

This year, I don't have the funds (not like that stopped me last year) and it turns out that instead of planning my own Spring Break, my company has done it for me. On Thursday morning, I will depart for Key West for a long weekend of sun, sand, and Kenny Chesney on repeat on my iPod. 

Explanation for this little getaway: each year my company has a sales incentive competition. Last year, the top 10 salespeople won a long weekend away in Puerto Rico. This year, it is a long weekend in Key West, Florida. And since I had a hand in planning the excursion (aka all the flights, all the meals, all the hotel arrangements, the shuttle service, and even the guest's beach activities), I get to tag along. Yes, I am pretty much their travel agent. 

But I am more than over the moon about this trip. Not only is it 80 degrees right now in Key West (and it's about -13 here in Chicago), but I get some free time while I am there as well. The first few days we are there we have dinners and meetings that I have to deal with, but come Sunday I have free time to lounge by the pool, drink strong margaritas, and add some more freckles to my already over-freckled skin. 

And that's not all! My company is allowing me to bring a guest, so Thursday night one of my best friends from college is going to be flying in from New Jersey so we can hang out and maybe convince a few of my colleagues to take their ties off. 

I'm sure this trip will inspire a story or two, so stay posted for an update on my excursion down south on Monday! 

You're Just a 23-Year-Old Who Can't Drive

I'm the baby sister of my work family. I'm 23, almost 24, and I am given a hard time because of it. When I complain about turning 24, I'm put in my place. When I talk about having worked at my job forever, I'm put in place. Promo Girl often says things to me like, "It's just like in Clueless...have you even seen that movie?" Yes, Promo Girl, I have. I'm not that young. As if!

I'm old enough to drink, to enlist in the army and to drive. But I'm not old enough to drive a rental car. Okay, I am old enough in most states. But, not without an additional fee.

Seriously rental car companies, seriously?

I have been driving since I was 15-years-old. I haven't gotten a single speeding ticket and I've never been in an accident. I should be able to rent a car and drive it at the same price as any 25-year-old.

I'm a serious Working Girl who is going on a business trip on Monday and needs a rental car. My boss is also going on this business trip but asked me to take of the rental car. So imagine how mature I felt when I had to book the car in her name because I'm too young and the company doesn't want to pay an additional fee. Super mature.

I'd Like To Invest

Apparently I started my new job smack dab in the middle of busy season. As the Project Coordinator, I have two large events each year that I have ownership of. One is in January and the other is in February. 

Having started in this position almost a month ago, I've been busy preparing the final details of the big event my new company has in early January. But as I go about attending meetings, editing all the written materials, and ordering the meals, I find myself not getting into it as I usually do. 

See, I love planning. In college and when I lived in NYC, I was always the planner. I took care of New Year's plans, birthday dinners, and spring break plans (and I especially love planning my yearly birthday extravaganza!). I like picking the restaurant or the bar that we'll get to go to. I like knowing all the details and being in the thick of plans. So in a way, it makes sense that I fell into this job of event planning and marketing. At my old job, we did two large events a year as well. I was very invested in both of them. I knew every answer to every question anyone had about the events. The decor, the layout, the food, the collateral - I was involved in every step of the process. 

I think this is why I'm having a hard time throwing myself into this event that will occur in January. I'm not very invested. Some would say that I'm lucky. I started this job and all the work was done for me. The things that are left to take care of are the small details and all the on-ground work the day of the event. Which should have me jumping for joy. Other than putting together some team-building projects, I really haven't had much involvement. 

But every day, someone will come and ask me a question. And most of the time I don't know the answer because I haven't been with this project since day one. I really think the best part of planning an event is following through - being there from the beginning when everything was just an idea and then seeing it all come together. It makes all the stress and all the worry very worthwhile. And you feel proud because you achieved something and you saw the fruits of your labor.

I'm doing my best to get caught up (ah! it's only two weeks away!), and I think I've been doing a pretty good job. Good enough that I know this event will run smoothly and I'll come back to Chicago alive. 

I just wish I was a little more invested.

I Think I'm Still Drunk

I have a bit of a reputation for getting inappropriately drunk with coworkers. It may be the awkwardness of small talk with the higher-ups or that I'm not paying for the booze but either way, I've gotten too drunk one too many times. More often than not, someone else is just a drunk so it's not just me. But Saturday night, it was a different story.

In typical WG1 fashion, I proceeded to drink a little too much in celebration of our biggest event of they year being complete. Our event rocked and I rocked, my female boss told me that she couldn't have done the event without me and that 30 people told her how great of a job I did, so I was in quiet the celebratory mood. I had two rum and diets at dinner with my bosses and coworkers in the marketing department.

Then, the night got interesting.

One of our higher-ups is married with two little munchkins and doesn't get out much. We'll call him Michael Scott because, well, he kind of is like Michael School. When there are group business trips, he takes advantage and goes all out. Limos to a club, bottle service and champagne at the club and craziness all around. After waking up at 5:30AM and working on my feet all day, I said to myself that I would only go out for another drink or two. Well a drink or two turned into several. I was dancing on chairs, pretending I was the bartender with our table's bottle of vodka and singing my little heart out.

The club closed at 2AM, which was already much later than when I usually end my nights in the city. The group that was left which was just Michael Scott and a slew of assistants, we all hopped into the limo and were on our way back to the hotel. Or so I thought.

I thought wrong. We were on our way to an after hours club. I decided to go into little miss event planner mode and sat in the front of the limo with our driver. We drove and drove and drove around the northern California city and couldn't find the club. Why? Because it was hidden. It was like a speakeasy. Being with a group of other assistants made this whole experience less inappropriate but we were still Michael Scott. Once we finally found this after hours place, which in my memory was just like a rave but let's keep in mind that I was entering a blackout, Michael Scott had to fork over all of his cash to get the four guys that were with us into the place. Little miss party planner (me) proceeded to withdraw $120 out of my personal checking account and handed it to him to buy drinks.

At one point, he was holding my shoes while I danced and dancing with myself and other female coworkers to keep sketchy men away from us. Again, I was near blackout so this could all be in my head. At the end of the night, the limo dropped myself on one of my coworkers off at the hotel and everyone else started walking to Denny's. When the limo driver asked me who's room the limo should be charged to, I yelled "charge it to Michael Scott!" It was now 4:30 in the morning.

The next thing I remember is the phone ringing in my hotel room at 8:00AM. I had to be down in the lobby at 9:00AM to get to the airport. Needless to say, Sunday was a long day that included sitting with my head between my legs, alcohol seeping out my pours, vomiting in the airport and all sorts of awkwardness in front of my male boss.

But wait, the story doesn't end there. First thing on Monday morning, Michael Scott calls me into his office. "I think I owe you $120," he said to me and I awkwardly laughed. He then said, "you made me well aware that this was a lot of money for you to be taking out of your account." Uh, awkward.

We then sat in his office for about 15 minutes and had a true college-style recap of the night. He told me that he thought I was going to get arrested. To which I replied with a blank stare and then a "what? When?"

"When you were talking to the cop about where the limo was parked," he said jogging my memory a bit. I remembered talking to a cop and informing him that we were from an important magazine because in the state I was in, that was important. I remember arriving back at the hotel and seeing other coworkers getting in their cars to go to the airport. Bits and pieces of the night began to finally come together but every one of my actions is not accounted for and god only knows what else I said to Michael Scott or anyone else for that matter.

I'm a Fashionista

Or at least I pretended to be one today. 

At 7:00 AM this morning, I bored the Amtrak Acela Express from New York to Washington, D.C. for a magazine sponsored beauty event. 

The event was held at a certain beauty counter at a department store in the Metro D.C. area. The particular beauty company is a sponsor of a corporate program and today's event was part of their sponsorship. The beauty company wanted beauty or fashion editors to attend the event to give consumers tips for fall fashion and beauty advice, what they got was me. 

They didn't know I was just a marketing coordinator who hopes every morning that my make-up is close to flawless and that my outfit is somewhat put together, they thought I was an editor. So, I had to fake it. 

The most important part of this task was my outfit. At 5:45 AM I put on a pair of wide-leg dark-wash jeans, a tailored white shirt, purple cardigan, gold skinning belt and white ballet flats (for the train ride, there was no way I was putting my black pumps a second before I had to).

To prep, on the train I read September and October issues of fashion magazines and I learned that purple is in for fall.

So, I stood at the beauty counter for two hours and told virtually every women who sat down for a make-up touch-up or foundation consultation that she should try purple for the fall. I varied what she should try, of course, a purple scarf, purple eye shadow, purple accessories. Purple. Purple. Purple. 

That's what you get when you send the marketing coordinator to pretend she's a fashion editor. Good thing the beauty counter girls were loving on purple for the fall just as much as the fashion magazines.

All By Myself

After a long day of travel, I have arrived safely on the west coast. A very rainy and cold part of the west coast. The magazine is hosting an in-store event for one of our advertisers tonight and I'm in charge.

When I arrived last night, I met with the store manager and talent for the event to have a site inspection. A site inspection is just a fancy way of saying "checking out the venue." I was nervous. The store manager is in her late 30's and so is the talent. I'm 23. They didn't know my age, obviously. But they discovered that I was young and not exactly uber experienced when it was time for the business card exchange. I don't have any. Assistants don't get them, which I can understand. Assistants usually aren't jet-setting across the country to manage events. But I am and I'd like business cards, thankyouverymuch.

The event isn't until 6:30 tonight, so I have the day to kill. And by kill, I mean I have to sit in a coffee shop for the next two hours and actually do my work for the day and make-up for the work I missed yesterday. I stayed up until after midnight New York time last night on my laptop sending e-mails, organizing excel sheets and booking travel for my boss.

Sitting in this coffee shop, I've been more productive over that past two hours than I think I have ever been on any given day at work. There is something about being in your weekend clothes, sipping coffee and listening French pop songs that make me work better. It probably also helps that I didn't have a ringing phone next to me or sales reps popping by my desk to ask me questions (that they should already know the answers to).

I'm off to go find some lunch. Confession: I've never gone to a restaurant and eaten by myself. Thank god I have an unread issue of People. I'll update later about how the event went.

I'm Backkkkk

I just got back from my first business trip and I can honestly say it was a truly relaxing experience. 

I should probably explain that completely out of the blue statement I just made. First of all, I have to preface that this was my first business trip...ever. And while I was super excited about the prospect of traveling on my company's dime, I was also terrified of the client dinners The Boss had lined up. I was also petrified of socializing with my co-workers (aka I was afraid of getting drunk and exposing my secret blog to my boss). 

Not to mention I was super, super stressed right before we left for our big trip. Why so stressed you ask? Well, I had just gotten back from my trip to London where I was greeted with a truck load of work and as WG1 mentioned previously, we just moved out of our apartment in the sixth borough so I had to pack, pack and pack some more, hire movers, and then unpack, unpack and unpack some more all while simultaneously preparing for the biggest event my company does all year. Whew. So you can see why I was a teensy bit stressed.

As the marketing coordinator of my company I play a large part in all our company events. Most of these include small office parties, but each year we do one big event in Aspen, Colorado. I mean, this event is so big to us that I've been working on planning and coordinating since November. Huge, huge, huge. 

I flew into Aspen on Thursday and got right to work. Things I quickly discovered included the following: 

1. I am not made for living in the mountains. I missed the city after two days. 

2. High altitudes give me huge headaches.  

3. I told the VP of Marketing that she and I might have been separated at birth. To which she responded, 'Except I'm old enough to be your mother. But only if I had been a slutty teenager'. I discovered I really love her. Like a lot. 

4. Events are mega hard work. But totally satisfying when they are over. 

5. I love all my clients. I want them to all to be my bff and move to NYC. 

So as you might have guessed by my discoveries that I had an awesome time. The event was amazing. That is truly the only way I can describe it. None of our clients had any complaints. The tent looked amazing. We got great foot traffic. And I had a really, really fun time hanging out with my co-workers. I mean, I had always enjoyed the VP of Marketing's personality, but she and I discovered we have so much in common that it scared us. We adore country music, burgers & fries, and vampire sagas. What more can you ask for in a boss? Oh, and we love complaining about work. It bonds us. 

The Boss was surprisingly calm. She almost always finds something to freak out about. But really the event went so well that she couldn't find anything to yell at me or the VP of Marketing about. And as a treat, she took us out to dinner at a posh Italian restaurant (where I had some spectacular gnocchi) and she got drunk, cried, and told us that she couldn't have done it without us. Which, to tell you the truth, felt pretty damn great. 

To top it all off, I was smart enough to take a few vacation days after the event ended on Sunday, and I stayed in Aspen for a few extra days. It was great just being alone and experiencing a paradise in the mountains. I took a gondola ride up to the top of Aspen Mountain, got a massage, bought a super cute cowboy hat, and finally saw The Dark Knight. It was the perfect end to the perfect event. 

I came back to work today relaxed, calm, and happy. My gay, Cuban, and pushing 45-year-old best guy friend at work told me I hadn't looked so radiant in weeks (he then offered to get a pool going so I could get a massage monthly so I wasn't such a raging bitch when stressed). Such a sweetheart that one. 

So I'm enjoying my moment of relaxation and sheer bliss that the event is over. 

Next on my list: begin planning the Colorado event for 2009. I kid you not. 

My First Business Trip By WG2

Tomorrow morning I am taking the 9 a.m. flight from Newark airport to Colorado for my first ever business trip. 

I'm shaking in my boots nervous, butterflies nervous, all sorts of nervous. Not because I'm scared of flying or taking a commercial airline flight with my bosses. I'm more nervous about performing my best (I'm going to have to be on top of my game 24-7), all the work I'm going to have to complete (this is a four day, all day event where I will have to perform lots of manual labor), and my first business dinner. 

In a meeting last week, The Boss announced that since we had a smaller staff going to our annual Colorado event this year that I was going to have to take clients out to dinner. I had a minor heart attack. 

I mean, I don't mind sitting in on meetings, taking notes, or talking in front of clients. But a whole dinner to entertain them? And to top it all off, since we're so short-staffed I will be heading this dinner alone. Which makes me shake with nervousness. What if I don't know the answer to one of their questions? What if I go over the budget for my dinner expenses? What if we run out of stuff to talk about? I mean, I'm only 23. I feel like I'm too young to be taking very important clients out for dinner at a posh restaurant. 

I guess the main reason I'm taking these clients out are because they are young so The Boss wants to show these clients a good time. Which leads me to my next big question: by a good time do we mean taking shots of tequila and dancing on tables while singing "Pour Some Sugar On Me"? Or do we mean sipping white wine and talking politics? It all makes me a little weary. So much room for error, but also a lot of room for success.  

So wish me luck readers. This is make or break time and I'm hoping I'm one tequila shot away from making it. 

Greetings from South Africa!

I only have about 5 minutes before my boss comes back and I have to get off the computer. But I just wanted to say a quick "hello" from my business trip in South Africa. I'm going to have lots of stories for you all later. Our entire staff will arrive here today for our national sales meeting (funny that our national sales meeting is being held in a different country) and I've been here since Tuesday preping with our events manager and the associate publisher (my girl boss, I promise I'm working on better nicknames). I'll save the stories for later but right now I'll tell you: Cape Town is beautiful beyond words and the people here are the most polite and well-mannered people I've ever met.