Careers, politics, reviews and the day-to-day thrills of a New Yorker with too many neuroses and not enough free time. Contains an occasional lapse into Yiddish.
I like my doctor. He is thorough, patient, works late hours and most importantly – takes my insurance. But, I am thinking about dropping him. Why? His front office.
It’s a small office. As in, there is a doctor and one front-office staff member. So, I expect some amount of ridiculousness and delays, but that’s the price you sometimes pay for personalized service. But lately, I just don’t know how much I can take.
I called for a prescription refill and I was really pleased to realize that the receptionist knew who I was and was more than happy to call the pharmacy. I then asked if she could ask the doctor for an additional prescription for a cream that I wanted. Nothing inherently embarrassing about it, and she asked me to spell it. Then I realized that the crackly sound probably wasn’t a bad connection. I asked if I was on speaker. She laughed, kept me on speaker and said “Yeah, I’m multitasking.” I asked her to take me off and she complied. The next time I speak to my doctor directly, I will mention it, but I don’t have a lot of faith in anything changing.
In fact, I had a scheduled appointment last week at 3:30. The same receptionist called me at 2:00 and asked if I could come early. Not a problem! I asked when. She said “2:05.” I explained how insane that was, and we agreed 2:45. I got there 5 minutes earlier than than that, and then waited in the waiting room until 3:15. I told the doc what happened, and he apologized. I mean, I could see what happened (she called lots of people to fill the schedule and more than expected complied) but when you ask someone for a favor, do them one as well and treat my time as valuable. I like this doctor, but if a friend recommended someone else to me – I would drop my allegiance just like that.
It’s not just humans. I got the new pup and I was calling a bunch of recommendations that friends gave me for vet offices. I had a brief rundown of questions, but the truth is – I selected the doc almost entirely by how responsive and friendly the front office staff was to me.
I have two world-class emergency rooms near my home. Both have fabulous doctors, but only one has a really great waiting room with semi-private alcoves and private TVs and a loudspeaker that is clear. Guess which one I will choose every time? (I am the only one in my group of friends with a car, and I have an extraordinary klutzy family – I have spent a good deal of time in ERs.)
The skills of being a great doctor may have very little to do with running a great “front of house” or being a great manager – except unless you are as pheonomonal as Greg House, it’s a skill worth learning. Or at the very least, recognizing that you stink at being the CEO of your practice, and hiring someone great who is a fantastic manager and understands the importance of putting people first.
Just when you thought I couldn’t get any nerdier…
In January of last year, I read Getting Things Done. I loved it. I started out great, things slipped, I learned about new tools, things got back on track. I have to say that a lot of what keeps me on track and interested in personal productivity is my wonderful boss who loves this stuff so much he blogs about it. I really find that having an actual system to keep me organized helps me keep my anxiety levels down to almost-normal, and I feel a lot more confident and pulled together.
One thing that has nagged at me and been a pain in my side is the technology factor. I know, there are great apps and gadgets and fancy phones and all that jazz. Except, I pretty much have a Zack Morris phone. And I am in super-budget mode, so buying in iPhone or another smart phone and a data plan is just not a good idea right now. (I mean, that’s a whole other blog post, because I love social media, and now do it professionally and my phone can barely handle texts. So, it may actually be a career move. So, this whole post may be moot in a few months, but for now – not in the cards.)
I am usually in front of a computer. Definitely at work, and most of the time at home (that Farmville isn’t going to harvest itself, you know). So, I use google docs and stickies for lists and it’s been working … okay. But I also spend a lot of time on the subway. And occasionally outside. And sometimes I sit on the couch, not near the computer. Or my phone rings and something comes up. So – I guess I am not in front of the computer that much.
I thought about what to do for awhile. I started keeping a notebook in my bag (ironically, a Google-branded notebook) and was transferring notes and ideas into my Google docs when I got to the computer – but then I would forget. Then it hit me: before the days of the internet and new-fangled phones, people used paper. Lots of paper. With binders and cool little inserts. And so, I went to Target and bought my new best friend.
She doesn’t have a name yet, but I am thinking something like “Hortense.” But I don’t want to be sexist, so I may go with “Horace.” It’s up for debate.
The planner comes with a great insert that helps explain how you should organize yourself. Tasks versus appointments, etc. Since I am a “Getting Things Done” grad, this wasn’t that complicated–but it was nice to have a mini-refresher and reference. And it’s cool that it gives you the space to separate things out. Like its working with you.
But my favorite part of the planner is all the fun accessories it came with and that I could buy. I mean, there are sheets in there to plan parties (*snort*), space to make lists for books I want to read, movies to watch and even a place to track what I ate that day. And I thought the contacts section would be redundant (my Zack-phone can at least handle that!) but it was nice to be able to write down my doctor’s actual address and the pharmacy store ID number.
Yesterday at a book club I was able to make an appointment for a date weeks in advance without asking to use someone’s laptop, or promising to call after I checked google. I had an idea for work on the subway and I wrote it down. My mom told me what she wanted for Chanuka and I made a note. I am leading some group work for school (ugh!) and I could effectively set a deadline and tell people by when I needed their input. Score!
It’s only been a week, but I am already adapting pretty well. I would even say “cautiously optimistic.”
What do you use to organize yourself?
I have some updating to do. I no longer have a “pretend puppy.”
Part of the reason we moved to this new apartment (which we love) was so that we could finally realize our dream of owning a dog. And after lots of back and forth, and countless emails with “how about her?” and a billion other considerations considered, we picked a dog. We knew we wanted to adopt from a shelter, and I knew I was taking some vacation time from work to help the dog acclimate – so instead of going to the wonderful North Shore Animal Shelter, we found a truly wonderful rescue group called “Bobbi and the Strays.” The amazing coordinator there helped us pick out a pup that would be happy in our apartment and match our requirements for aesthetics, temperment and activity level.
Eva was our girl. She’s a bit overweight (at 90 lbs.!) and a little older than we had planned – but that fits perfectly with living an apartment. We think she’s probably some sort of Shepherd-Akita-heeler mix. She’s no puppy, and is happy kind of lazing around, with some bursts of activity. We went to go meet her at the facility’s JFK Vetport (only a temporary shelter – they are looking for a new space) and … this was it. She was sweet and smiley and her ears were too cute. She had absolutely zero food aggression, liked playing fetch and was affectionate. She has had some run-ins with other dogs at the shelter, and while she loves people – loving other dogs may take some work.
She has been there almost a year. I can kind of understand why – she’s a big dog. And here in Queens, that’s tough (and as we are finding out, a lot more expensive to own a large dog). She’s older (people like puppies) and apparently, black dogs get adopted less than any other coloring.
So, she’s all ours.
One of my favorite cutie-pie things about her (beside her always-wagging tail and cute little white bootie-feet) is that whenever she lays down, she crosses her front legs. Such a lady!
Today is the first day she came home, and she is really adorable and clingy. She naps a lot, follows us underfood, watches intently when we eat (but doesn’t beg) and farts and snores. Also, within hours – belly rubs.
I don’t think I will be able to relax and have it really sink in until after our vet appointment on Monday – but until then? I don’t remember being this happy in a long, long time.
Love dogs? Help this great organization find more homes for cutie-pies like Eva. Please consider donating to Bobbi and the Strays.
I’ve been swamped lately, and my poor blog has been neglected. So, in lieu of me posting about myself, I am going to delegate, and let my sister tell you all about me. I’ve asked my little sister Marisa to write a bit about what it was like being my sibling (she’s three years younger) and here is her unedited tale. (P.S. This made me both want to kill her, and cry because she is such a wonderful sister. And apparently, we both use a lot of Yiddish. I linked to definitions where appropriate. )
You should only know… what I know- because I lived it with her
Being Erica’s fabled little sister, ( not one of the little cute ones, the one with the iron trap memory for post mother’s day brunch recaps) has been… eventful. yes- I choose eventful.
Erica was my protector against memories of a bellydancing step mother, my seat in my father’s 2 seater corvette, the one who walked me home from school when my babysitter quit mid-session and most importantly the one who would take the less favorable colors whenever we were offered gifts. What more could a little sister ask for- really?
Little Erica was just a smaller statured version of the girl before you. A little blonde smart mouth kid with a vocabulary that made adults uncomfortable. She wore what was laid out for her, tripped over everything, made crummies everywhere, in seats she wasn’t even sitting at…seriously, it’s a gift. As you would imagine Erica was no ordinary child, in fact the ordinary children on the block fashioned a weak booby trap for Erica to fall into… she never did fall down there, hell she never even got out there. There, was outside, in the sun, away from her books and her rice pudding.
When I was 7 and Eri was 10, I would be in the pool till I would wrinkle. My sister would be dressed under the umbrella doing a Games magazine and SPF 100 on her face. Erica was mature. She hung out with the adults, made meaningful comments in their conversations and shpatzired with the best of them.
At night after I would go to bed Erica would stay up with my mom and her friend working on their mock coffee clatch cast of Linda Richman (from SNL) style characters. In the morning my 10 year old sister, now called Sadie Chatchkawitz , would teach me new stanzas from the Kvetch Anthem , a vaudeville style showtune she and my mom worked on chronicling the life of their alter ego altakakas, “would it kill their kids to call? Thank god for Anacin at least my hands wont shake!” Erica Age 10. (ed. note: I still have all of the lyrics. Mom would make us sing this all the time. We taught it to our friends.)
Erica was super smart and all of her friend’s parents’ favorite. She won the spelling bee in 4th grade. Made killer dioramas, and wasn’t trying to sneak liquor out of their cabinets (Ed. note: Yes, I did.) Boy were we all shocked when adolescent Erica veered way off course. Though Erica didn’t always fit in (see Erica in the Dance Project’s black light recital big number in –oops!- white socks) all of the sudden my Sally Jesse-glasses wearing sister traded in her sweater dress for a cape- set up an altar in her room and frequently left home for a place in the woods called “the pit” with a guy named Slash. The cute Bayside friends were swapped for pierced kids in capes and corsets who faces were shrouded under their cloaks by their manic-panicked hair. The nights they stayed over, the house smelled of old incense, and mom let me sleep in her room- with the lights on. “Its just a phase, Its just a phase Its just a phase.”
The next 10 years or so I think she was in her room, coming out only to trade barbs with grandma, take out her contacts, try one of mom’s breadcrumb surprises or to go to her boyfriend’s house. Those were the lean years for us as sisters and though trips to the mall together were not on our agenda, Erica seemed indifferent to me sitting next to her while she watched Xena. And it was so….
My sister Erica is a quick witted pale nerd, whose throat gurgles involuntarily, who cant tell time and who should probably be dressed in bubble wrap. She is my favorite search engine with a way better algorithm for suggesting books than Amazon! Erica has become a great cook and baker, who graciously shares her trials and takes requests. Erica is awesome. She is sweet, compassionate and PATIENT and above all a good friend and a great sister.
Marisa is a cry baby.
I haven’t updated in awhile, but trust me – my neuroticism has kept me in the appropriate amount of guilt about it. It’s weird, because there is so much going on that it seems as if I would have a ton to post about, but I really couldn’t think of anything great. And if I could, there was really not that much time to do it!
The past week or so, and the week coming forward are just jam-packed. There literally hasn’t been a day in the past week, and isn’t until November 2nd-ish that doesn’t have something written down on the calendar. It’s mainly all good stuff and sometimes it’s just something like “Sara coming over to watch ‘So You Think You Can Dance’” but there is something about being so scheduled that has me stressed out. Like, something awesome may come up, and I won’t have time to fit it in – even though most of the stuff scheduled is the awesome stuff that I would want to schedule anyway. Who knew I had a fear of commitment?
Speaking of commitment, Frank and I celebrated six years together this weekend. I really can’t believe its been that long. I don’t want to write anything mushy or weird, because in truth – I don’t feel that mushy or weird. In my heart I already know we are going to be together for a good long time, so this seemed more inevitable than an accomplishment, but it’s nice to spend some time taking a step back and appreciating the awesome relationship we have. We celebrated with burgers. We are going to my cousin’s bat mitzvah next weekend and I think our plan is to pretend that our evening of dressing up and dancing is our fancy night out (sorry Aunt Anita, we’re broke and will need a break with reality after a weekend with Grandma 
)
And speaking of our relationship and commitment – we are taking it one furry step further. Despite non-stop talking about it in real life, I am somewhat loathe to talk about it on the internet (typing = jinx?) but it looks like my pretend puppy may be taking a step out of “pretend” and joining us here in the real world soon. So, that’s been taking a bunch of time and mental energy. But man oh man, she is cute.
Mental energy? I haven’t written about school for the past week or so (although I am still excited about ‘Five Minute University‘) because well — lately the classes have been kind of boring. Still interesting to me, but there is really only so many exciting ways I can spin methods of validity testing. Speaking of which, I have a mid-term on Monday and I have to remember how to study (yes, this was written Saturday night, and I haven’t started studying yet. First lesson should probably have been ‘don’t cram’.) After spending half a semester learning about how to create valid and reliable tests, I can’t wait to see what this professor puts on his own!
The other thing that’s been taking up the bulk of my brain power is my job. I don’t like to talk too much about the nitty-gritty here (because my boss and co-workers read this! Hi!!!) but I’ve been going in a bit of a different direction and working more within social media, and the best way I can describe it is immersive. I already know quite a bit, but the position requires me to become a bit more of an expert in the markets we serve and the issues each market is talking about. I am really, really enjoying it and I think it uses some of the better parts of my brain (and exercises the anxiety I have about potentially misrepresenting my company) and I know it will get easier – but now, when I come home? I am exhausted.
So, we have all that going on. Add in an increased focus on making sure Frank and I are on a budget and moving forward with our financial goals, three book clubs, cheering on the-friend-of-a-friend who is in the Top 20 of So You Think You Can Dance, focusing more on my physical health and way too much Farmville – and that’s where I’ve been.
Talk about Christmas Creep! This is the true story of adventures of an accident prone Jew who took her Columbus Day holiday to build a Christmas Village. Jesus was a Jewish carpenter, right?
One of the first things that I loved about my boyfriend Frank was how close he was to his friends. They are his tribe, his “shoulder brothers” and an awesome group of guys. One of these guys, Jerry has a wife named Chrissy. Chrissy and I have gotten especially close and we all spend lots of time together. I would be lying if I didn’t say that a certain little 5 year old named Becky has something to do with it. Becky is their daughter, who despite being totally unrelated to me, I consider my niece. I have known her since before she was born and she is just one of the best things to happen to me. She loves her Uncle Frank and Aunt Ecka (that’s me!), and I am proud to be a part of her life. So, these are the major players in this tale of Christmas.
Every year, for years (Jerry and Chrissy were high school sweethearts) they buy another piece for their Christmas Village, which they put out the day after Thanksgiving. You know, the little mini-houses and “stuff” that I thought only old ladies have (Chrissy is totally an old lady). They let me help them set-up the display table last year (yes, I invite myself over every Christmas) and I was making fun of them, blahblah. So, we started talking about how we could make it better next year. And that’s when the fun began. We drew out a work calendar, divided responsibility, watched awful VHS videos for inspiration and … well – here we are now. The general plan was to edit the amount of buildings we put up, build some decent terrain on actual foam instead of a folding table and get better and better each year. It’s like what happens when old ladies meet nerds.
First, we went to Home Depot for supplies. This was our first violation of child labor laws.
The Cranky Elf
When we got everything home (giant cart totally not needed) we decided the first order of business was to glue together the foam pieces that would be our basic “platform.” We were still a little unsure of how this was all going to work, but we had to start somewhere. Also, we learned that while Aleene’s Tacky Glue is good for everything, it’s not good for gluing styrofoam to styrofoam. A hot glue gun will melt it a bit, but man-oh-man does it hold.
Then we started laying out where some of the houses would go, how to hide wires and answered important civil engineering questions like “how do you get from the pet store to the chapel” and “does our village of five people really need a fire department and a police station?” Please note the diagrams and schematics – these were drawn up, traced and plotted out weeks ago.
Then, it was my turn to break stuff.
Clumsy Heathen
Luckily, we had a gluing station all set up. The casualties included my manhandling of a fire station, and Chrissy’s unfortunate run-in with attic stairs and a mini-gazebo.
Finally, we started some of the “terrain building” in which we kind of just started hacking into things and scratching it with a steel brush and seeing if we could give this sad little village some texture for snow and sense of depth–once we answered the critical issues of “how many brides make sense to have in front of a chapel” and “is having a lake in the middle of a village safe?” of course.
Chrissy and Jerry are saints for not freaking out when their kitchen and dining room floor looked like this (and this is after some cleaning up)
Luckily, we had a helper (who broke less than we did.)
Our second violation
But after a lot of work, we got it to a point where we are pretty happy with it, and our next steps will be making it more permanent, wire management, decoration and detail work, including tons of trees, lights and mini figures. We will probably do it closer to Thanksgiving, and I will make sure I document the process. One thing I am proud about is that we all seem to be aware of our varying levels of crafting ability, and we are challenging ourselves, but taking it in small, managable chunks.
It's getting there...
By the way, while we are doing all this (which took the better part of the afternoon, including shopping, etc.) Becky put us all to shame with her own rendition of a Christmas Village (in between yelling at us for making a mess).
Lately I have been updating my blog with summaries and thoughts about the class I am taking as part of my quest for a MA in Industrial/Organizational Psychology. I started doing it for a few reasons.
- I am running out of brilliant blogging topics
- It’s probably smart to use my network to get feedback on some of these classes/my thoughts on them
- It really helps me not only retain the info, but think about it outside of class/studying. It’s like that oft-repeated study quote of going home and re-writing your notes.
- I keep getting asked “What is I/O Psych” and I only have a decent answer half the time. I am hoping that I can educate some of my friends and family about it, and maybe – just maybe raise some awareness about the field altogether, which I think is definitely needed.
I think the posts could be a little dry, but I am getting some great feedback on them. And then I saw that Mc-Kinney Oates Cereal is writing about her MA in Marriage and Family Counseling and it was really interesting. So then I started thinking about all the stuff I want to know more about, but don’t have the time or resources to learn. Heck, there are apparently whole degrees in subjects I didn’t even know existed.
What if we did a little Blog University? Essentially, a short-attention span-lecture series! I would highlight some bloggers (and non-bloggers) in some guest posts. I am thinking either summaries of your class notes (if you are a student) or maybe some mini-lessons about the field you are in (or the field you wish you were in!).
Want to share basic tenets of graphic design, or a mini-law lesson on intellectual property? A primer on archaeology or some fundamentals of management. I want to learn a bit about a whole bunch of things! The big buzzword lately is “passion” (especially if you follow any of the myriad of endless Gen Y blogs…) so – let’s see some!
Check out Five Minute University!
The last class lecture was called “Measurement, Validity and Reliability.” Riveting stuff, I know. Essentially the conversation boiled down to discussing how to design tests, specifically selection testing. There are four critical goals – validity, legality, utility and acceptability. Because our class discussions seemingly go wildly off track – we really only got to validity last night, but it was a really interesting topic to me.
There were all sorts of charts about Inferences of Validity with predictor constructs, predictor measures, performance constructs and performance measures. It’s about the leaps we have to take in order to figure out what trait we think will make a candidate should have in order to be successful, how we measure that success and how we can measure the trait itself.
For example, maybe you think that in order to be a good sales person, you need to be extroverted (the predictor construct). So, then you have to figure out how you measure something like “extrovertedness” (the predictor measure). Then, how does being extroverted help you in your sales job (performance construct) and finally – how do you measure the performance of the result of these inferential leaps (performance measure). Is it in the sales numbers of people that performed highly on the tests you created to measure extroversion?
Essentially, it takes these really abstract ideas about what we believe, and dissects them and measures them and checks to see if our intuitive leaps actually make sense. And then if they do, they have to be measured to find out how much success they actually have, and if they are worth selecting and testing. And then it hit me – this stuff is actually science!
Sure, psychology is a social science – some cling to it, others dismiss it out of hand. And when I tell people I am studying industrial-organizational psychology, you can almost see eyes glazing over. I admit that I too have felt it to be all very theoretical and touchy-feely kind of stuff. And I am sure a lot of it is – but for the first time I realized that this actually has a basis in science and math, and I have to start actually paying attention to things like correlation coefficients. Forget ropes courses and trust falls – this stuff actually makes sense! You can test it, repeat it, have to prove validity and back up your research. I thought I would hate this stuff (and just may, in practice) but right now – I am pretty excited about it.
I couldn’t help but think back to my undergraduate archaeology studies when I realized that it’s more than just digging around and display cases. There is actual science in archaeology. Sure, there are leaps of fantasy, and a lot of creative filling-in of unknowns, but there is a lot of good, actual, practical science in it. It legitimized it for me, and made it that much more fulfilling. I think I am feeling the same way about this field as well.
The similarities don’t end there. I can already tell that a large part of an I/O practioner’s job is figuring out how to make people care–how to explain the conclusions, how to educate people so that they understand that this has real-world implications and that these tests and hours of research are worth doing. The aggregate, and not the individual. These are the same issues archaeologists have when trying to get grant money, or educate the public about not destroying sites, or asking politicians to protect land. It all comes back to marketing.
I am recovering from my “I worked on Yom Kippur and was punished with the plague” cold and am getting ready for an exciting weekend. I have some friends coming over for brunch, and I am trying to “sell” my neighborhood to one of them, so Forest Hills better put it’s Game Face on! And then in the evening it’s another friend’s engagement party (I am definitely at that age.) Then Sunday is a possible day at the theater with Grandma Flo (I promise, if it happens, the blog post may write itself) and then on Sunday, something I am really excited about – if you are in the NYC area, come down and get your Nerd on to compete in True Nerd Trivia. It’s like pub trivia for those of us picked last in gym class.
But, today’s post is about an important topic in our social media world. Tweeting to celebrities. There are a lot of celebs on Twitter (and those who wish they were celebrities – I am looking at you Hailey Glassman) and I follow … a lot of them. Like, enough for my tweetdeck to have it’s own column of Celebs. And sometimes, just sometimes – I want to respond. And it’s so, so, so embarassing.
Why? It’s weirdly sycophantic and pathetic and just … odd. And when Twitter displayed every tweet you made, it was totally out of the question to me. But now it only displays a tweet to someone if you also follow them, so in theory – you would only know I tweeted to Kevin Smith if you also followed Kevin Smith (who never responded, btw). Which makes it slightly less embarassing. Unless you went to my twitter feed or looked at the side of my blog, you wouldn’t know that I have also responded to Alyson Denisof (nee Hannigan) (about drinking water! Who AM I?). I don’t actually expect them to respond, so I have no idea why I do it – and I smirk at other people when I see them do it (because I am a total hypocrite).
But part of the whole draw of Twitter is that you may actually have access to these celebrities, in a way you wouldn’t have had otherwise. And that’s kind of cool. So, I will still use caution and a bit of embarassment to gauge on a reply to a celebrity, but I have to tell you – despite my total Kevin Smith failure, I tweeted a question to Suze Orman (I love, love, love Suze) and SHE TWEETED BACK! The advice was only kind of helpful, and she ignored the follow-up question, but … I just wanted to brag.
Do you tweet to celebrities? Ever have a meaningful conversation? Been served with a restraining order?
