International Women's Day and My First Job

International Women's Day was not something that I'd ever heard of, but it was March 1994 and I was charged with writing flap and panel copy and a marketing campaign for a March-release book entitled THE ENCYCLOPEDIA OF WOMEN. International Women's Day was to be my hook for enticing radio interviews, speaking dates and reviews for my author and her book.

The project was phase two of a job I'd been invited to apply for with a well known publishing company in San Francisco. My advising professor at the GTU Masters Program in Jewish Studies had a book being published with them and had recommended me for the position; it was the first (ie. only) interesting prospect that had come my way since graduating. The position's title: Marketing Associate, World Religion and Women's Studies Books.

Having never written "copy" in my life (academic papers don't count) I took on the task the only way I knew how: research. Mind you, this was before the Internet, so I couldn't just go online and google "how to write a book marketing plan," instead, I pulled out every book I owned (hundreds) and read flap and panels as if they were works of art (some were!). I went to the library and checked out books on copy writing, marketing and publicity. I studied it all and settled in to work.

I got the second interview. And honestly, I wasn't surprised. My writing was excellent - I'd agonized over every word - and the marketing plan was tight. It covered every form of media (at the time) and offered solutions to travel costs that included hi tech things like "radio phone interviews." If there was one thing I'd learned during all those years at school, it was how to research the hell out of things.

What I didn't learn was how to interview.

The hiring manager and I had met the week before (he gave me the test-project). He too had been a divinity student and we'd hit it off immediately. He gave me the lo-down on what to expect and sent me off. Over the course of the day I was interviewed by two editors, the publisher, the director of publicity, the president and human resources. I can think of a zillion things I said during those conversations that should have cost me the job. For example, when one editor said, "your writing is excellent, can you tell me why you want to go into marketing instead of editing?" In my head I'm thinking, "um, because the job opening is in the Marketing Department and I need a job?" Out loud: "Marketing just seems much more interesting and fun than editing." Yes, I said this to the editor. Or how about what I said to the president when she asked me what I do "in my spare time." Brilliantly: "oh, I read. One of my favorite magazines is xxx, isn't it published by this company?" "It may have the same name as us, but we've never had anything to do with that magazine." It gets worse. In Human Resources I was asked "how did it go?" "Oh, it went great. I especially enjoyed meeting with that woman who had the big fancy office." "You mean xxx, the president?" Uh. Yeah. Her. Can we say foot in mouth? Palm to face?

I was hired.

Hindsight isn't always twenty twenty and it's taken a long time for me to realize that I had some huge cheerleaders rooting for me behind the scenes. My professor - about to publish his first book with this company - was no doubt extremely influential: he wanted someone he knew to work on his book. It would serve him well if I were to get the job (and it did!) Furthermore, the support of the hiring manager, who seemed to think I was perfect for the job, was enormous. I imagine he had to do some pretty strong convincing to get me hired to that position. (Thanks Steve!)

The job was short lived (I was laid off with a third of the staff 8 months later) but what I learned about working with professionals in an office environment was invaluable for landing my next job and the next ....

So, International Woman's Day. It comes along every year ... I wonder if Terry Gross is interviewing anyone significant today ....

Tiny Pebbles

"There's practically no water coming out of this faucet" my friend said, waiting for his glass to fill. It was true, I agreed, and it had gotten worse over the past few weeks.

"No wonder, check out all the gravel stuck in your filter." The faucet looked stunted from where he'd unscrewed the tip and I examined the part he took off - a metal casing enclosing a plastic nub full of tiny pebbles. We discarded them and screwed the faucet back together. The water flowed. His glass filled quickly.

It's been two days and my life has dramatically improved. Replenishing the dog bowl takes 4 seconds instead of 30. My dishwasher works again (it's the kind that wheels over to the sink and has a hose that manually screws into the faucet.) My glass fills quickly.

I was reveling in this small victory (while doing the dishes) and it occurred to me how much this relatively small fix had quietly helped elevate my mood. I took a moment to notice the water's rush over my hands, how quickly the suds moved from pot to drain, the consistent heat and pressure ... Perfection in a faucet.

Much of what I take for granted is perfect: a drawer that slides easily, a door that doesn't squeak, the sound of my car motor starting up. It's time to start appreciating these seemingly inconsequential moments and things because together they are the fuel that drive my day and give me strength to tackle the pebbles and stones that can sometimes block the path. 

On(line) Generosity

I've been involved with online social networks since 2006 and over the years I have continually been struck by the generosity of the people I've met.

In the "early days" I was heavily involved in YouTube. When it became clear that the people I watched  (nalts, nutcheese, zipster08, mugglesam, etc.) actually got together and met in real life (there was video proving it!) I was - quite honestly - shocked. This stuff, these people, exist.

I became involved by commenting on and responding to videos created by people who interested me. In this way I was able to meet (many in real life) the people I most admired. We worked together on "collabs" (video collaborations) and created entire birthday channels for our friends. We raised money for causes we felt were important. We met in real life and made videos... or just hung out. It was a lot of fun.

Through it all what struck me was the generosity of the people I met. Not only were they freely giving of their time (filming, editing, etc) but they also provided unbiased personal support. There were real connections.

Transitioning to facebook and twitter happened when my friends from YouTube began experimenting outside the video box. I joined the convoy and started up my own accounts. We stayed together as a group. Following and friending each other, some of us spending more time tweeting then filming (me for instance) but we kept up with each other's lives in the same way that one does with an office-mate or neighbor. Mostly we became - continued to be - friends.

Twitter, for me, has been even more fruitful. I follow 1300 people and there is some percentage (maybe 10%?) that I know in real life. The communities or (as Shel Israel calls it in his book Twitterville) neighborhoods I joined were varied. Yes, there were YouTubers, but there was also geographically local businesses and people; mommy bloggers sucked me in; and then Tech News in general. Within each of these 'hoods were individual tweeters with whom I truly connected, befriended, and even dated.

Once again, the generosity of these people never fails to floor me. They take time to answer questions, offer advice and are the biggest cheerleaders when support is needed. And all that is from their hearts. My communities are equally as generous with physical things. When I lamented to twitter that I couldn't afford to buy Joe a DS for Chanukah a DM appeared saying, "hey, I have a DS I never use and would LOVE to give it to Joe." When I complained one morning about not having coffee, a peets gift card arrived in my email. A friend - who I know from YouTube and met once, briefly - saw my tweet "with all the iPad contests I've entered, you'd think I'd have won one by now." Guess what came in the post last month? Yeah. And these are only some examples.

I try to be generous also - retweeting, commenting, pointing, supporting, connecting. I don't have money or goods, but I do what I can because it makes me feel good and it will make me feel better if I can help them succeed.

What is it about my online communities that makes them so giving? Is it unique to the people with whom I choose to befriend? Or does generosity somehow feel better online than off? I'm curious if others have experienced this and to what, if anything, it might be attributed. Have there been studies done on this? (I'm not kidding!) Could it be an anthropological phenomenon? Or do I just have awesome friends?
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FOLLOW UP:
This blog posts to facebook in the "notes" section and I get more conversation over there than here. One of my friends posted the following comment (copied here with her consent) and I think she makes some excellent points. Milo is her 10 year old son.

It is my personal belief that I would have lost my mind with Milo's Duchenne diagnosis, if it weren't for all the amazing women I have met who see me through every day. I do think some things are easier online. In real life, I am often struck by the divide of politics, or class, or midwest vs coast, or some nervous tic someone has that drives me away. Online we can hone our focus and look at just the one connection closely without being hindered by the petty reasons to disconnect. I live by the emotional support I get from other Duchenne moms.

Sadly, and probably more obviously, the lack of any social normative sense of politeness (the kind where you have to face one another) means some people mistreat each other easier too, as I have found in more than one occasion of total flaming and shunning because of a slight difference of opinion.

For me, it's both a haven and a pit of snakes and figuring out the difference is the key.

Putting the Proven Before the Potential

Yesterday, without much fanfare or ceremony, I disabled my account on xyz dating site. I texted two (of the dozen fellows I'd met) to let them know how to reach me if they wanted, and that was it. Done.

I'm now relieved from cruising the site, searching for potential matches, refining my profile, fielding emails, and vetting "visitors." The time I've spent on awkward first dates (and the rare second), cursing the "three day rule" and hoping for an encouraging text message can be spent, instead, nurturing the relationships that already exist.

There are several friends I've been neglecting. People I've known for years who I'm not making an effort to see because I'm too busy trying to find a date. a mate. a partner. And that's not OK.

My aim now is to enrich the relationships that exist. Putting the same time and energy into these viable and proven friendships that I've funneled into online dating will, I think, result in sweeter fruit. These are the people who know me best, love me and want to see me succeed. They're the ones I want to cheer on and support. They're the ones I need in my life right now.

And I'm very lucky to have them.

Moroccan Spiced Root Vegetable Stew

When deciding on something to cook, I'll spend hours, occasionally days, perusing recipes (online and in *gasp* cookbooks), studying them, examining the spices, textures, techniques. In the end, I pick and choose what appeals to me - maybe add an ingredient or two - to create a dish that is truly my own.

Because of rainy winter weather - and plans to entertain several vegetarian friends - I decided that a root vegetable stew was in order. But not just any stew - it was Chanukah and I wanted a hint of far away lands... rich, earthy flavors ... curry, cumin ... Morocco.

So I went hunting for Moroccan Spiced Root Vegetable Stew. There are many many good recipes out there, and I took the best from each one and created something worth sharing. Here you go.

Ingredients
• Root vegetables (suggestions below, but you should choose your favorites)

1 turnip

1 rutabaga

2 sweet potatoes

4 large carrots

4 large parsnip

• 4 large shallots
• 1 large head garlic, cloves separated but not peeled
----
• 1 onion
• 1 can diced tomatoes
• 1 can chick peas (drained and rinsed)
• zest and juice of one lemon
• 2 cups vegetable broth
----
• 1 cinnamon stick
• 1tbsp curry powder (plus dusting)
• 1 tbsp cumin (plus dusting)
• olive oil
• salt, pepper, chili flakes to taste

• 2 cups chopped fresh cilantro

Instructions
• preheat the oven to 375
• peel the root vegetables, dice them into uniform bite-size pieces
• peel the shallots but do not chop
• separate the garlic cloves but do not peel
• toss with olive oil salt and pepper
• spread vegetables in ONE LAYER in a baking pan or cookie sheet
• dust with curry powder and cumin (just a SMALLL dusting)
• put in oven for about an hour
• turn vegetables and rotate pan at least twice during cooking

While root vegetables roast:
• Heat some olive oil in a large pot
• Slice the onion and put it in the pot with a pinch or two of salt
• Saute the onions until transluscent - about 20 minutes.
• Add the tomatoes, chickpeas, zest and juice of one lemon, vegetable broth, cinnamon stick, cumin and curry powder to the pot and simmer for a half hour. Add salt, pepper and chili flakes to taste.

• When the root vegetables are finished cooking (they should be brown and carmalized, fork tender but not mushy) take them out of the oven and add them to the pot with the liquid mixture.
• Cook on stovetop for another 10 minutes so flavors blend.

• Serve with couscous, crusty bread, or latkes.
• Offer cilantro to sprinkle on top (or do it yourself but not everyone likes cilantro)
• Remind guests to separate garlic from the skin and spread the creamy goodness onto bread.

Bonus Leftovers!
The stew is even better the next day, but if you'd like to do something special you can easily create individual pasti-like pastries by mounding spoonfuls of the stew into the center of squares of puff pastry dough, bringing the corners up, sealing them witha pinch at the top and throwing it all into a 400 degree oven for 20 minutes. Talk about satisfying. And impressive.

Let me know if there is any confusing bits or if you have any questions about the recipe.

Recreating a Tart

There is a cafe near my home that serves delicious, though overpriced, breakfasts and lunches. Because of the convenience, I find myself there about once a week. Smallish sandwiches are a hefty $8 which is more than I like to spend, but a slice of quiche or savory tart runs about $3.50 and provides me a perfect light meal. 

Their menu changes seasonally so last week I was pleased to see a tart of Acorn Squash, Walnut Pesto and Sage. The flavors are rich and satisfying. A vegetarian's dream (no, I'm not a vegetarian, but if I were, it would be in my dreams.) It was delicious. 

When I was assigned appetizers to bring to this year's Thanksgiving dinner I immediately thought about recreating the tart. There are essentially four parts: crust, walnut pesto, acorn squash and sage - and each requires it's own preparation, but putting it all together would be easy. I decided to do a test-run today (day before TG) and to make enough of everything to easily assemble another one tomorrow. 

Here you go:

SAVORY TART: ACORN SQUASH WITH WALNUT PESTO AND SAGE 

Crust: I don't bake, so I decided to use puff pastry dough. Get it in the freezer section of the store. Use one shet let it thaw per package directions. If you are an expert with tart dough, then, I say - go from scratch

Roasted Acorn Squash: Cut one acorn squash in half and scoop out and discard seeds. Place cut side UP in a shallow pan with an inch of water in the bottom. Place in 350 degree oven. Bake until tender but firm enough to slice. About an hour. After cooling, remove the skin and cut into half-moons.

Walnut Pesto: One cup EACH of walnut bits, parmesan cheese, olive oil and a quarter cup cream. Blend everything together. Consistency should be similar to natural peanut butter. Add more walnuts to make it thicker or more cream to make it thinner.

Sage Butter: Finely chop six fresh sage leaves. Put them in a pan with half a stick of butter and let them melt together. As the butter browns it will begin to smell slightly nutty. Be careful the butter doesn't burn. 

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Assemble and Bake the Tart: line a cookie sheet with parchment paper and dust with a small amount of flour. Lay the thawed PUFF PASTRY sheet on it. Spoon the WALNUT PESTO over the sheet and distribute all over in a thin layer. Place the ACORN SQUASH half-moon slices in an attractive pattern over the pesto. With a pastry brush, dab a generous amount of SAGE BUTTER over the top of the squash. Be sure that sage bits get brushed on as well. Fold the edges of the tart over and brush the top with the sage butter. Put into a 400 degree oven and bake for about 20 minutes - until the crust rises and the edges of it and the squash become golden. Serve at room temperature (with a glass of pinot).

 

Here is a (bad) picture of the test tart. You can see that I wasn't able to make nice half moons out of the squash (which kept breaking apart) so it's not as pretty as I envisioned, but it tasted surprisingly like the cafe's version.

Let me know if you make it.

A Life Online

It's now old news that I'm experimenting for a month with an online dating site. The process has followed a predictable pattern: One of us contacts the other via the dating site; emails are exchanged; a date is set; phone numbers are traded in case of last minute conflict; a text message or email is forwarded before the date to confirm; the date happens; a followup text message or email is sent thanking the other for a nice time (or not).

Quick. Simple. Easy. Efficient. I love this.

So when someone wants to change the formula I'm put on guard - as happened with this one particular suitor who contacted me via the site. Let's call him "B." B wanted to talk on the phone. I hate the phone. I explained that my reception is bad and text is better but he called anyway. And he talked at me for 20 minutes. I shouldn't say that. He clearly had my profile open on his monitor because he was referring to things I posted on the site ("... here on page 2 you say ..."). At the end of the "conversation" he said that he is looking for "beauty with brains" and that I seemed right for the job ... er, date. Seriously - it was as if he were interviewing me for a business position - but telling me all about the company (him) without asking about the reluctant applicant....

After the phone call I considered breaking the date, but friends said that maybe he was just nervous ... give him another chance .... If nothing else, I decided to stew on it a few days and decide (a'la Ms. O'hara) later.

The next two nights, at around 9, I received text messages from B saying, "sweet dreamz... :)" On the third day a photo was sent... I downloaded it and was relieved to see a view of the SF Bay.... The whole thing was feeling kind of weird, but the date was a couple of days away and, I told myself, I could pull out anytime.

I didn't have to.

Just as I was snoozing off last night, at about the time "sweet dreamz :)" had been popping up on my phone, I received this instead (SIC):

U on Twitter now, tweeting about everything on ur mind, missing in life, ur lack of a relationship with a real and; highly employed Jewish man, about ur college date rape or near one in Israel, what u ate or drank in dirty Berkeley ....omg how PATHETIC.

 Um, what? I was awake now, and texted back, "Really? Wow."

I made plans ... 2 meet a real high-end woman looking 4 a real relationship with a great guy. Take care get a highly talented PhD therapist, bye :)

I recognize that my online life is transparent - sometimes uncomfortably so - and I expect there will be  judgements made. I'm also not naive, and am fully aware that if I give someone my phone number they can do a reverse search on Google and find me instantly. If a guy wants to stalk me --- I mean --- check me out before a date, they are privy to a lot of information. It's happened before - the reactions are telling.

Admittedly I've put some stuff out there that definitely could be considered pathetic, however, the post to which B. was referring is candid and raw. It speaks about deceit and violence and how events can twist your life in ways never expected. It's about growth. There is nothing pathetic about it. That he reels against this particular piece of writing reveals almost as much about him as the post does about me. Following it up with a crotch shot to my home town ("dirty Berkeley") was unnecessary and frankly, irrelevant.

Clearly this guy was not worth meeting in the first place. Perhaps my on-line life will continue to work as a screen to filter out the assholes, but I worry that it could scare some men off. And while I may be a reflection of what I put up here, no one can really know me until they spend time with me. IRL. And even then, I'm complicated.

Happily so.