You Can Do It (Put Your Back Into It)

Posted on February 6, 2013 by emily

I started to write this post several times. One version opened with me discussing how there is likely no one who doesn’t like to get a massage. Another was about how everyone has given informal massages to friends and family, and wouldn’t you like to have confidence that you were not making them cringe. In yet another opening paragraph I went so far as to philosophize about how, as Americans, we go through our days surrounded by people but we hardly ever touch. But all these openings seemed too serious for what I did this past Sunday, which was simply to put my bare, oily hands all over a friend’s back.

Molly Kerrigan is the blogger behind Wicked Cheap in Boston, as well as a licensed massage therapist. She works knots out of clients at Beacon Massage in Newbury Street and at Boston Mobile Massage at the Copley Marriott health club. On top of all that, she is incredibly generous and took the time to teach me how to give a real massage on a friend, who will go nameless in exchange for agreeing to go topless for this post (don’t bother scrolling down, this is not that type of blog).

Molly at work

I didn’t think too much about what giving a massage would be like before I arrived. I have had plenty of them and I’m pretty comfortable with strangers… albeit trained professional strangers…putting their hands on me. But when my victim, um, I mean my friend, was facedown on the table I realized how intimate it really is. We started our lesson with Molly walking me through how she begins a massage session. First she rubs a client’s back over the blanket as a way of introducing her touch. This was the first time I saw this process as an introduction. We can walk into a spa from a rough day at work, from a fight with a spouse, from dealing with a child’s tantrum – as a result, a massage therapist really needs to ease their clients into the treatment so that they feel comfortable and relax.

“The biggest difference between rubbing someone’s back and a massage,” Molly explained, “Is intention.” Molly demonstrated the five main strokes in Swedish massage (effleurage, petrissage, tapotement, friction and vibration) and explained that she uses the same strokes and techniques on all her clients, but how she executed them depends on what she feels in the person’s body – she is constantly listening with her hands. She could tell which side of her body my friend carried her purse on, and spent a good deal of time trying to work out one knock lodged near her shoulder-blade.

After walking thought the strokes and showing me how she uses her whole body (if she just used her hands and arms she would not be able to see clients all day) she let me try the techniques. I filled my palm with massage oil, and using the entire surface of my palm and all five fingers, started making long smooth strokes along my friend’s back. I have to admit; it felt really weird at first. Well, if I am being honest, it never stopped feeling weird. Maybe I was on to something when I said that we Americans are not used to touching one another.

I wasn’t sure how firm I should be gripping and I was worried I would hurt her. I found that even though I was just taught all the strokes, I was just making it up as I went along. I moved on from the long strokes because that felt way too awkward, so I started kneading her back. I worked my hands around her shoulders and down her spine. Then I pulled my hands off her quickly while pronouncing, “What’s next?” We moved on to her legs and then her neck. I was especially tentative (and my friend said she could feel the difference) when I was holding her head in my hands massaging her neck. But cut me some slack, I did have her head in my hands!

My afternoon of massaging made me realize not only does a massage therapist have to have the training and skill to physically do his or her job, but also there has to be intuition and a certain comfort level that no doubt comes with the year of training it takes to become a licensed (in Massachusetts) massage therapist. I clearly do not have that level of comfort, but thankfully there are trained professionals, like Molly, who do. They love helping people relax and unwind and they can listen with their hands. I will stick to listening with my ears.

Thanks to Molly Kerrigan who helped me think about massage a new way. I would also like my friend for allowing me to rub oil all over her back and take pictures of it. I owe you a drink at the very least! I was not compensated in any way for this post.

Put Me In Coach

Posted on January 30, 2013 by emily

Making changes in one’s life is not always easy. When I was living in New York, the thought of leaving news and The City was terrifying to me. I wanted desperately to move to Boston (I was burnt out from life in journalism. And after working nights, weekends and holidays for years, I wanted to concentrate on my life, not just my career), but fear kept me treading water for months. After what seemed a lifetime, and with the support of my family and my amazing friends, I was able to make the leap: not only to a new job, but also to a new career, and a new city. After moving to Boston I was finally able to exhale. I was able to make this huge change in my life largely on my own, but it took me a while.

When it comes to professional challenges I have no problem springing into action and getting things done, and done well. I set up action items everyday at work and have a distinct sense of satisfaction crossing items off that to-do list. When making changes in my personal life, on the other hand, I am less action oriented. Why is that? Is it because I think everything will fall into place organically? That’s what everyone always says, “Everything will work itself out.” That’s a really nice thought, but it only makes sense that I should have to work at things in my personal life the same way I have to work at things in professional life.

I bring this up, not to wallow in self-indulgent reflection, but to explain my motivation for reaching out to a life coach for this blog. I thought meeting with a life coach then seeing if I could help someone else solve a problem in his or her life would be an interesting experiment. But after speaking with the extremely helpful James Singleton, I realized that being a life coach is not something to be taken on capriciously. So while I started out thinking this would be one of my typical adventures, it turned out to be an adventure in a more unexpected way.

James was born to be a life coach. His father and grandfather were both ministers, so counseling people through challenging times comes naturally to him. During college, classmates were always asking his advice on issues they were facing, both academic and personal. He says he thought everyone was asked for advice the way he was. He soon learned that is not the case.

James Singleton

Several years ago James started attending life coaching workshops, taking classes and shadowing well-known life coach Cheryl Richardson. He established his own business, Insightful Voice, in September of 2011. As James explained, life coaches help their clients establish where they are now and where they want to go in their life. James begins by determining if he is best suited to help a prospective client, or if they would be better served by a therapist (a very important distinction it seems to me).

James’ niche is transitions. He explained that often clients come to him with a specific goal that they want help achieving, then they work together to establish “a road map” to move forward. What most surprised me was that each of James’ sessions end with the establishment of action items and measures of success. This is not just you whining about your life, James listening, and you walk out feeling unburdened. James is going to work hard, and so are you. And you will walk out with homework.

I started out listening to James talk about a typical life coaching session, but before long we were talking about me and what I want in my life. Go figure. James is an exceptional listener, and easy to talk to (especially for someone who doesn’t always like talking about themselves).

This is when I knew this “adventure” would not be a typical one for me. While I do share a variety of experiences with all of you, I typically don’t get too personal. I may be a rarity in the blogging world: I don’t like to talk about myself all that much. So I try ridiculous things to make you laugh…without getting too deep. As we were discussing (or as I was trying not to discuss) some of my goals, James made a staggering observation that was so on-target that I am now ready to believe he is the best life coach (or psychic) who ever walked the earth! James asked me if I was not expressing what I really want out of fear. Fear that I would feel exposed…unable to pretend my life is not already perfect. BINGO!

That’s when I came clean and said I wanted to continue writing this blog, maybe adapt it into a book (It sounds so much better when other people tell me they see a book in my future. Saying it myself seems immodest or gauche). And then words flew out of my mouth before I even had time to think about then…I told him that I wanted to meet someone who loved me the way Barack loves Michelle! Yes, I said those exact words and yes, speaking them did suddenly make both of those things seem more real and my desire for them more acute.

James and I continued to talk, we discussed what may be holding me back and went through some exercises I should do to work towards achieving my not so modest goals. This is where the light bulb went off in my head. I could finally reconcile the way I like to operate in my professional life with my personal life. I had action items! I am nothing if not a girl who loves a to-do list and suddenly I had one.

So after getting a first-hand look at life coaching, I have decided not to try this job personally. I learned that life coaching can be very important resource and tool in peoples’ lives and to trivialize it doesn’t seem appropriate. I feel as if this post also represents me coming clean with all of you, my readers. Although it’s not in my nature, I will try to share more of myself with you on a more regular basis and see where it leads. Maybe every once in a while my posts will be a bit different; personal adventures in addition to the physical ones. This may make me uncomfortable at times, but I hope it helps me to continuously move forward in my life, and I hope it is appreciated by — or at least entertaining to — you.

I still hope that one day you will find The Great Wide Open on a bookstore shelf (er..I mean on amazon.com or on your favorite tablet) and I do want to find someone to love me the way Barack loves Michelle, but now, thanks to James, I have some action items to go along with those rather vague, yet utterly romantic, proclamations.

I can’t thank James Singleton enough for taking the time to talk with me about life coaching…and talking with me about myself. While James is Boston-based, he sees clients around the country. You can learn more about his services on his website, insightfulvoice.com.

What a Year!

Posted on January 23, 2013 by emily

This week I celebrated not only my birthday, but also the one-year anniversary of the re-booted The Great Wide Open. It was one year ago this week that I pledged to try a job or activity each and every week, and share the experience with you. That’s 52 weeks of new – sometimes awkward, sometimes funny, always enlightening – experiences that have taught me about myself and what I want out of life.

Some have asked if this blog is a mid-life crisis (please note, I may be one year older, but I am very far from middle aged). If it is, then I have to think it’s one of the healthiest crises one could have. In the last year I have taken risks, totally embarrassed myself and reveled in it, and gained some precious new skills – including upholstery…and the ability to laugh at myself.

For those of you who joined The Great Wide Open train late in the year, here are some of my favorite adventures (with links so you can catch up); they are experiences that taught me very valuable lessons:

I am terrible at the trapeze. I should not run off and join the circus. But I realized if there’s one thing (and of course there is only one) I’m not good at, it’s o.k. if it’s flying through the air butt up. I also learned that when I stop trying to be perfect, I am able to accomplish more than I thought possible.

I learned that if you can keep a straight face while blowing glass than you have a chance at success.

I learned there is really no way to look cute in a bee keeping suit.

While synchronized swimming is often the butt of Olympic jokes, it’s actually pretty challenging…and only slightly ridiculous.

Getting to know your roots can make you feel grateful…and sore.

Probably the most important lesson from this past year was that all of the thrilling, heartbreaking and challenging things I have experienced have made me the person I am today, and these experiences will continue to shape me. My life may not be what I expected it to be when I was in high school, but it’s an exciting and dynamic life, and one that I would not trade.

Just as important as the lessons I have learned, are the people who I have met on this journey. Dozens of talented individuals have opened their homes, offices, workshops and studios to me and shared their passion for everything from fencing to tending to wounded birds. Some have been friends or family, but the vast majority have been strangers. They love what they do and love to share that with others. Like me, they are following their passion. Much to my envy, many are make a living from that passion. What a gift that is. These people make this blog possible. And it’s because of them — and the experiences they enable me to have — that when looking back on this last year, instead of feeling old, I feel young. I feel as if I could do anything I put my mind to…and I guess this blog is proof that it is true.

Cowboy Country

Posted on January 18, 2013 by emily

I recently traveled to a different kind of “great wide open” by visiting Wyoming for the first time. While I was pretty busy with work while there, I did manage to squeeze in an hour-long adventure of learning a skill…one might even call it an art…that is unique to this part of the west: hat shaping. You can probably guess the type of hat that I learned to shape? Yes, a Cowboy hat.

Just a sampling of the hats available at The Wrangler

Having lived my entire life up and down (but mostly up) the east coast I thought “cowboys” only lived in Texas. Boy was I wrong. Cheyenne, Wyoming is thought of as the rodeo capital of America, and they have the event to prove it. To further demonstrate my naiveté to all things west of the Mississippi, I was also unaware that cowboy hats were shaped differently, nor did I understand that the shape of one’s hat can offer clues as to where its owner is from. Needless to say, I received quite an education when I walked into The Wrangler in downtown Cheyenne. The Wrangler is local institution, and one of the few places that still shapes hats. In addition, they sell all sorts of western ware and fashions indigenous to this part of the country. I have never seen so many cowboy boots in my life.

Jeff Mullins working a hat. Photo courtesy of Jeff Allen

Jeff Mullins is The Wrangler’s resident hat shaper. He started shaping hats at the age of five, in his native Texas, and was kind enough to give me a lesson on this dying art. While the fact that cowboy hats are shaped was a surprise to me, the technique used was not. To shape the wool or felt (two common materials, sometimes supplemented with beaver or rabbit fur), Jeff uses steam to make the material malleable, then he works it into the desired shape with his hands. This is the same technique that Marie Galvin used to shape the beret we created together on my day as a milliner. I was pleasantly surprised that this skill was actually coming in handy for a second time! Like so many of the experts I learn from as part of this blog, Jeff is self-taught. While he now uses a steam machine to heat the material before shaping, he started out using steam from a tea pot on his family’s stove.

Lots of steam. Courtesy of Jeff Allen

Cowboy hats are initially shaped to satisfy the style and shape requests of a customer. All hats initially come with a full, round, dome-like top and a perfectly flat brim. To steam the material Jeff held the hat close to the steam machine, at times moving his hand away when it got too hot (burning digits is an occupational hazard, he explained). As the material got softer, he used his hands to shape the brim (the curve of a brim should start in line with the wearer’s temples) and used his fingers to create creases and dimples in the top of the hat. There are three popular shapes: cattleman’s crown (which accounts for 65% of all hats sales), “brick top,” and “Gus.” After an initial purchase, hats can also be re-shaped throughout their lifetime to maintain its shape, change its shape, or if it gets squashed when you are bucked off a bronco (it seems that happens more often than an east-coaster would think).

It’s almost like getting a facial. Photo courtesy of Jeff Allen

During our lesson, Jeff also explained how certain shaped hats are popular in different parts of the country. This fact allows experts like Jeff to identify where someone is from (Texas, Colorado, or Wyoming for example) by the shape of his or her hat. Jeff said he gets lots of people who comment that he is not from Wyoming, which is true. He is from Texas and wears his hat accordingly.

As with all things there is a right way and a wrong way to shape a hat. But to be honest, the differences in the curve of a brim can be so subtle that it seemed that a novice (like me) could make up their own shape and style and have it look pretty o.k. But of course, if I did that, no self-respecting cowboy would dare wear it so I guess that would defeat the purpose.

I did a little shaping, but this is one thing I am smart enough to leave to experts like Jeff. But I may have to bring the cowboy hat look back to Boston. I look pretty good, no?

Courtesy of Jeff Allen

Many thanks to Jeff Mullin for taking the time out of his day to show me how real cowboys shape their hats. I’d also like to thank Pam and Lacy for letting me take over the hat shop at The Wrangler. It’s a must-see if you find yourself in Cheyenne. Thanks also go out to the talented Jeff Allen — who is quickly becoming a regular on this blog — for documenting my lesson. Here are some pictures I took on my trip into the other great wide open. Enjoy!

Photographer Jeff Allen on top of the world

Wyoming has amazing sunsets

I single-handedly doubled the population of Buford, WY

Wyoming photo shoot

And this is another great sunset shot courtesy of Jeff Allen

The Perfect Pour

Posted on January 8, 2013 by emily

Coffee is hot…literally as well as figuratively. As The New York Times reported just days ago, coffee lovers are seeking out coffee boot camps and training so that they too can brew like a barista. While I don’t drink coffee (I am a recovering diet coke addict, happily supplement with green tea), I am fascinated with people’s relationships with it. Individuals feel strongly about their java preferences, and when you think about the simplicity of its origins (a bean) the proliferation of its incarnations and varieties is mind-boggling. And as if the type of coffee was not enough, your espresso, latte or iced coffee is also expected to look pretty.

Latte art, the act of creating intricate designs in the steamed milk atop a latte, is growing in popularity and competitiveness. Across the country there are regional and national “throw-downs” where baristas challenge each other to create the most beautiful foamy patterns. As we have learned through my previous artistic adventures, I was not blessed with much technical artistic skill (that all went to my brother), but I hoped that maybe the edible medium – not to mention learning from a patient expert – would be a recipe (pun intended) for success. So just before the holidays I set out to become a latte artist!

Enter Shane White, barista extraordinaire from Boston-based Flat Black Coffee. Everyday Shane keeps hundreds of Mullen employees happy and well-caffeinated, and he was generous enough to teach me my way around an espresso machine.

Shane at work

Shane has worked at Flat Black for five years and is a self-taught latte artist, most baristas are. It took Shane six months, tons of practice and some YouTube videos, to master the three basic designs of latte art: a heart, rosetta and a tulip. At this point in his career, Shane estimates that he has made tens of thousands of lattes – not to mention participated in Boston’s “Thursday Night Throw-down” competitions — so I was in very good hands.

My coffee naiveté may stem from my lack of drinking experience, but I was totally surprised by all the variables that can impact one’s latte creations: The type of milk (the foam from steamed skim and soy milk don’t lend themselves to latte art, 2% and whole milk are far superior), the size of coffee ordered (the larger the cup, the more milk and therefore the more foam you need to control), even the age of the espresso can affect how it behaves.

We started our lesson with Shane demonstrating his technique for a heart (the easiest of the three basic designs): he steamed 2% milk, prepared the shot of espresso, held the cup at a slight angle, started to pour the steamed milk in at a surprisingly (to me) fast pace, then as the cup filled, he straightened the cup while moving the steel pitcher containing the milk in a slow, steady semi-circle. Then at the very last moment he pulled the lingering drip of milk through the center of the cup as if to cut it in half. As he began to pour the foam disappeared into the espresso, but eventually it re-emerged at the surface of the cup, ready to take on whatever incarnation Shane told it to.

A rosetta by Shane. Courtesy of Kara Feigenbaum

While Shane talked me through each of these steps as he did them, a great deal of what he does clearly comes from a place of experience and instinct. Having made so many thousands of lattes, he could see and feel how the milk was behaving and could make adjustments — to the pace at which he poured, the point at which he straightened the cup or the touch he applied — to keep his creation on track.

Courtesy of Charley Perkins

You know sometimes someone will explain or show you how to do something and you think to yourself, “Hey, that doesn’t look too bad. I may be able to pull that off.” Well, this was not one of those times. It was clear that latte art takes much more skill and finesse than I had expected. But, I was already behind the coffee bar, so I couldn’t quit now.

Shane made the espresso and steamed the milk for me (no need to set myself up for failure right out of the gate), then I took over. Double-fisting the cup and milk pitcher, I started to pour. Shane was right over my shoulder quietly directing and encouraging me, but there were a lot of small things I had to do all at the same time. While I did everything he said, my pour was slow and unsteady, I don’t think my semicircle was wide enough and my entire effort was too hesitant. I ended up with a large blob in the middle of my cup. Shane and I decided it looked like a strawberry, so he did a little accessorizing (foam dots for seeds) and we made the most of it:

A perfectly frothy strawberry

My first attempt would turn out to be my strongest. After the strawberry, I created what we decided was an egret. Yeah, I know it’s a stretch, but look closely and you can clearly see my bird’s long legs and neck:

Then I hit rock bottom with this indistinguishable blob:

If you can see something in this blob, please let me know

While my work was not that impressive, what I was impressed with was the fact that even when I had an audience — in the form of a thirsty colleague waiting for his latte — I did not get frustrated or impatient with myself. And while I was slightly embarrassed to hand my blob over the counter, I did so with a smile and a giggle. And hey, the good-natured Tim Connor said it still tasted good!

My satisfied customer

While I did have fun, I have come to the realization that I can never ever be a barista. Or like Shane, maybe I have to be persistent and take the time to learn this skill, which I now realize is very much a form of art. A tasty one at that! Check out more of Shane’s creations:

Courtesy of Louise Lloyd Owen

Courtesy of Louise Lloyd Owen

Shane can even make iced coffee pretty. Courtesy of Charley Perkins

I’d like to thank the very talented Shane White for his patient instruction. He helped me appreciate that a barista’s creations are not just a simple cup of Joe. Thanks also go out to Kara Feigenbaum, Louise Lloyd Owen and Charley Perkins, three Mullenites who provided instagram images of Shane’s impressive work. I was not compensated in any way for this post.

Adultish

Posted on January 1, 2013 by emily

Nothing makes me feel as old, or as young, as spending Christmas at home. Maybe it’s being back in Philadelphia, maybe it’s the nostalgia of the Christmases of years past, and perhaps it’s the fact that my father gets downright giddy around Christmas. It’s quite literally his favorite time of year. While it’s understood – yet never discussed – that my brother and I now know that Santa is not real, our family has been adopted by an elf named Rupert. Rupert helps my parents “make” goodies for my brother and I. My dad frequently calls me when “Rupert” has a question about a new iphone, or when there is a color discrepancy on the part of Rupert’s workshop where the J Crew sweaters are knit. Rupert’s existence illustrates how much my parents, not to mention I, love the child-like wonder of Christmas still.

Another reason I love heading home for the holidays is the fact that I get to see family and friends who I don’t get to see as often as I once did. This year, with these reunions came tons questions about this blog. Some love it and some don’t quite understand it. I heard a lot of, “So how long will this go on?” and “What are you going to do once you find what you are looking for?”

To be honest, I didn’t have terribly good answers for them. I have not exactly thought through how long I will be on this journey, or what I will do when I find my next passion in life.

All these questions pushed me into a state of self-reflection and a little bit of doubt. What am I doing? Is this whole thing totally childish? Once I find something that I am passionate about, what am I going to do, quit my job and become a glass blower full-time? Doubtful, but who knows. Have I let narcissism — disguised as a witty blog – take over my life? Or is it actually the opposite: am I am living my life (fully engaged in my life, as my mother describes it) in a spirited way and sharing it with perfect strangers for (hopefully) their entertainment?

Sometimes I still feel like this little girl

This dichotomy is not unlike my life itself. I have shiny empowering moments when think to myself, “Wow, I am totally an adult.” I also have sad little moments when I still feel like a seven-year old on roller-skates in a tutu. These moments can range from a bad day at work that leaves me bemoaning to my parents, to a moment of recognizing the ridiculous as I struggle to keep my head above water while learning synchronized swimming. I call this purgatory that I vacillate between the state of being “adultish.”

I wonder sometimes if I am the only human on the planet who feels adultish. Maybe it’s the product of the sociology of my generation of having a prolonged adolescence. But I’ve done some research, and it seems that most of those theories are generally applied to man/boys, so I don’t think I have that as an excuse.

Maybe trying all these different things is less a sign of immaturity, and more a signal that I am taking control of my life, and working to discover what I am passionate about, in a very mature – albeit humorous — way.

I once asked my dad when he finally felt like an adult. I thought his answer might be the day I was born, or when his parents passed away. Those seem like joyous and heartbreaking milestones that would press one into self-examination and maturity. But to my delight, my dad replied without missing a beat, “I’ll let you know when that day comes.”

And so I take a page from of his book; I’ll keep taking on these crazy adventures in this new year; I’ll search for what I am passionate about, and I will let you know when I become an adult. ‘Til then, I will revel – both on these pages and in my non-blog life — in being adultish.

(Helping You) Shop ‘Til You Drop

Posted on December 21, 2012 by emily

There are only three shopping days left before Christmas, and everyone, including myself is in the shop ‘til you drop mindset. This is surely the most challenge time of year to work in retail; the number of customers is high and their patience is low. In the spirit of, “go big or go home,” what better time is there to see if I can cut it in sales? I have a passion for shopping; maybe I could develop a passion for helping others shop.

The lovely ladies at North River Outfitters, on Charles Street in the Beacon Hill neighborhood of Boston were kind enough to let me help them out on a recent Saturday. They have just moved into a new space (right next door from the former incarnation of NRO) that allows for more space to display their well-edited collection for men and women that includes Tory Burch, Elizabeth McKay, Vineyard Vines and Barbour. They are also one of the few retailers of Alden shoes, the New England cobblers. The day I was there they were hosting an Elizabeth McKay trunk show, so I wore my favorite silk blouse of hers so that I would look the part of retail goddess.

The beautiful Elizabeth McKay trunk show items

Kathleen Godbold, the manager of this NRO store (there are two other NRO stores on Charles Street, as well as on Martha’s Vineyard), started out by walking me around, and giving me some retail tips. The first one made me feel as if I may really be cut out for retail. When Kathleen said, “We always want things to look neat,” I dorked-out and I felt a goofy grin spread across my face. I too like things to be neat, so walking around the store straightening piles of fleeces and making sure the spines of the beautiful books on display here line up completely evenly sounded more of a treat than a chore. I thought that I may be just Type-A enough to succeed at this.

Do you need a tie? NRO has the perfect one

Then just as quickly, my perfectionist status betrayed me. The store got very busy, customers were finding treasurers for their family and friends, and logic dictated that I should approach one of them and ask if they needed any help. But I knew that unless they had a subjective question (Do I get the green or black Barbour motorcycle jacket?) for which I could rely on my style acumen, I wouldn’t really be able to help them. I didn’t know if there were additional sizes in the back, and I didn’t know exactly how the merchandise was organized, if the price was not clearly marked on an item, I would not know how to find out how much it cost without asking someone else.

If I asked someone if they needed help, and they took me up on that offer, what was I going to say? “Hold on just a moment and I will find the answer to that question for you.” Well, yes, that would have been the perfectly acceptable answer, but for some reason I felt embarrassed to let customers know that I didn’t know what I was doing. When I realized this emotion rising up in me was insecurity, I felt ashamed. Why was I concerned if someone knew that I am not a seasoned retail professional? Couldn’t I just explain that I am a blogger who tires different jobs and activities on the search for my next passion in life? I could call it grassroots marketing for The Great Wide Open. My perfectionist tendencies seem to be hard to shake off.

Helping a satisfied customer

I was lucky to have some dear friends come in to shop early on, so I got to warm up with friendly faces and then I just had to jump into the deep end. The amazing NRO ladies, Kathleen, Josie and Maggie, where so helpful throughout the afternoon and we were able to seamlessly tag team with customers when I needed their help. I managed to help one woman, and while I waited to ring her up (the last time I worked in customer service, during college, cash registers were the standard, now everything is on computers, and I am not good with computers, so I needed a lot of assistance) I grew concerned that she was getting impatient, so I explained that it was taking a while because I had been working retail for exactly 45 minutes. It turns out she was not impatient at all. She laughed and complemented me on my courage to take on this challenge in late December. We started chatting about this blog, and her daughter’s upcoming wedding. It turns out that, like me, she attended Colby, and on top of that, I knew her daughter from college! Instead of feeling ashamed about being slow at ringing her up, I ended up reveling in my extra time with her.

Kathleen teaching me to ring someone up. I look very concerned.

After that sale, I was buoyed with newfound confidence. I approached many more customers, showed them to fitting rooms, offered fashion advice, found them different sizes, I even pulled items off the mannequins in the window when it caught someone’s eye. Yes, I had to ask a lot of questions, but I become more comfortable with that as well. Everyone was so nice, I could see exactly why Kathleen says the best part of her job is her customers.

By the end of the day I felt silly for being so embarrassed about my status as the newest member of the NRO team. This blog has been a great vehicle for me to slough off my perfectionist ways, but it seems my Type-A rehabilitation is a marathon, not a sprint. I will keep trying new and different things, searching for what I am passionate about, and (slowly) becoming a mellower version of myself in the process.

NRO is in the holiday spirit

If you live in Boston and are in need of the perfect last-minute gift, scoot on over to the NRO shops (NRO, NRO Kids and NRO Sport), they have an amazing collection of apparel and accessories for everyone on your list from: from newborn to parents, fashionistas to adventurers. I must thank Marie, Kathleen, Josie and Maggie for being so kind and patient with me. I would also like to thank all of NRO’s customers who were equally patient. I was not compensated in any way for this post.

I hope each and ever one of you have a wonderful holiday season, I’ll be back in the new year!

Time Out

Posted on December 18, 2012 by emily

The past few days have been heart-wrenching not just for the community of Newtown, Connecticut, but the entire country. Last week I promised my retail post, but I had hoped you would find that adventure funny, and in light of last Friday’s tragic events, it seems a little too soon to laugh. So I am taking a momentary time out, please indulge me.

Since 20 innocent children — and six adults who dedicated their lived to teaching and caring for them — were gunned down by a clearly sick young man, there has been an outcry to re-examine our country’s gun control laws. There have also been dozens of heart-breaking images of frantic parents waiting to hear word of their children, terrified children being led from the school that was once a place of happiness, and a grief-ridden community ripped apart in a hail of bullet.

As a former journalist I usually gobble up details of big news stories, wishing to be back in the center of the action. Not this time. I have been actively staying away from the onslaught of coverage. I don’t want to know all the details of this story; they are just too terrible.

Some have said this is the time for a serious discussion about gun control. Some say this is not; instead it’s a time to grieve the innocent victims. Why can’t it be both?

It’s true that the guns used in this massacre were purchased legally by the murderer’s mother, so in some ways, no background check or waiting period could have prevented him from getting his hands on these weapons. It’s also true that the Brady Campaign to Prevent Gun Violence ranks Connecticut’s gun laws as some of the strictest in the nation. But does anyone really need these types of weapons? And all those bullets? Police sources say the shooter had hundreds of rounds of ammunition.

To think about the lives cut short can be physically painful. It has brought us all – including our President — to tears. To look at their pictures, with their bright eyes and big smiles, it’s hard not to think about what they would have done in the future, whom they would have become, all the joy they would have brought to their parents, siblings, friends and community. Wouldn’t the best way to honor these victims be to take a good hard look at our country’s gun control laws and work towards some common sense and practical procedures that can protect innocent people from tragic gun violence like that happened last Friday in Newtown? I hope so.

I’ll be back later this week to make you laugh, as soon as I stop crying.

Photo courtesy of Joshua Lott/Reuters

I decided not to use the shooters name in the post because I did not want to immortalize him, or give him any recognition.

This Time Adventure Found Me

Posted on December 12, 2012 by emily

This week, I had every intention of writing about my experience working retail during the holiday season (and I hope to have that post up in the next day or so), but this week got a little busy and a lot crazy. As it turns out, this week was not about one of my self-inflicted adventures, instead adventure found me…in Seymour, Indiana.

What? You’ve never heard of Seymour? Well that’s ok, neither had I. To give you a better sense of where we’re talking about, if you draw a triangle between Louisville, Cincinnati and Indianapolis, Seymour would be right in the middle. That still doesn’t help? Well, then you have a geography block similar to mine, at least when it comes to the middle of this country.

I traveled to Seymour for work with a colleague and after a long day of flights and scouting locations for the next day’s shoot, we checked into our hotel. We ventured up to the second floor where our rooms were, and there in the hallway we saw three police officers, one of whom had a menacing looking machine gun. As soon as I saw them I turned around to head back down the hallway towards the elevator, but the officers waved us past them towards our rooms. They didn’t say a word, but one held his index finger up to his lips, motioning for us to be quiet. How could we be expected to be quiet with a machine gun in such close proximity?

cop cars 2

I had no idea what was going on, nor why they wanted us to keep walking, but they were cops so I did as I was told. My colleague and I went into our respective rooms, right across the hall from each other, and just two doors down from the one the officers were surrounding. This was bizarre to say the least. When I got into my room I stayed close to the door so I could hear what was going on in the hallway. The officers were trying to coax a man, we’ll call him “Bobby,” out of his room (I have changed his name in case he reads this, I don’t want him coming to Boston to get me). At one point I definitely heard a dog in the hall.

As if ripped from the pages of a sitcom script, my colleague and I were texting, while simultaneously Facebooking a blow-by-blow narrative of the standoff just feet away. After I asked if bullets could pass through multiple walls, My colleague texted the suggestion that I should get down on the ground. So I did. And there I stayed…for the next 45 minutes. They kept talking to Bobby, trying to engage him in some sort of negotiation, but it seemed Bobby was not in the mood to chit-chat.

Why the hotel staff did not evacuated the building is completely beyond me. At the very, very least, the folks at the front desk should have warned us not to go up to our rooms! I started to get worried that if something serious happened, and if this stand-off ended badly, I would be caught in the crossfire. Was I going to die in the middle of Nowheresville, Indiana…face-down on the carpet of a Holiday Inn Express? What an absolutely depressing end to this blog — not to mention my life. I have a lot more to do and write about!

After what seemed an eternity, we received word from the lobby that things were business as usual down there, so I quickly picked myself up off the ground and sprinted down the hallway, past the police officers, who were still armed, and still motioning for me to be quiet. I have lived in big cities on the East Coast all my life, so it never occurred to me that small town police are less like “COPS” and more like “Reno 9-1-1.” Just bust the door in already and get Bobby out!

The reports from the lobby were correct, people were enjoying their complimentary drinks and snacking on peanuts while watching an increasing number of officers — some with riot shields and gear — parade into the hotel and up to the second floor, all in an effort to convince Bobby to open his door.

riot gear

We left to get dinner, and by the time we returned Bobby had been arrested. I later found out he was wanted for attempted murder. Yes, ATTEMPTED MURDER! They had a would-be murderer two doors down from me and they didn’t think to evacuate the building, much less the floor. It was one of the most bizarre evenings of my life.

While this experience is not typical of the adventures I share on this blog, I did learn a valuable life lessons, one that I think is well worth sharing: When you see a machine gun run in the opposite direction no matter who tells you to do the opposite.

Other than the stand-off, the Hoosier State was pretty pleasant, but boy was I happy to get home.

Headed home #nofilter

An Illuminating Evening

Posted on December 4, 2012 by emily

I love photography. I took photography classes in high school, and in journalism school where I had the privileged of learning from Pulitzer Prize winning former New York Times photographer, Vincent Laforet. So I have some experience with a camera, but I take photos for fun. Its been years since I’ve been under any pressure to capture a well-composed, compelling image. So when I was asked to play photographer and take pictures at an event to celebrate a deserving Boston-area charity (more on that in a bit), I immediately accepted, but it took mere moments for that excitement to turn to panic. The charity would be counting on me, and the photos would be offered to journalists to include in their coverage, so they could end up in newspapers. So the pictures would have to be good.

That’s when I called on an expert: lifestyle and portrait photographer Jeff Allen. If you follow me on instagram, then you have likely seen Jeff at work; climbing ropes, getting dirty and kayaking. He’ll do almost anything to get the perfect shot. Jeff’s work is diverse: from BMX, to celebrities, to commercial campaigns. He has worked with the best in the business such as Ben Watts (Naomi’s brother) and has photographed the likes of the Kardashians and Adam Levine. He also gets to travel around the country and work with me, which is surely the best part of his job. Here’s a sample of his work:

Photo Courtesy of Jeff Allen

Photo courtesy of Jeff Allen

On one of our recent trips Jeff offered me his expert advice on how to capture some great images under tricky conditions (five in the evening, both outside in the dark and potentially inside the adorable shops along Charles Street in the Beacon Hill neighborhood of Boston). Jeff suggested I rent a more powerful lens for the project. I was taking pictures in the dark, he explained, and I would need a lens that has a wide aperture that would let more light in, while maintaining a fast shutter speed to avoid blurry images caused by my own body movements. His instruction sparked a flood of memories of the photography classes from my past. This made me even more nervous because in the last five years my Nikon SLR has been locked on its “auto” setting. What had I gotten myself into?

My very important photography lesson with Jeff Allen

My very important photography lesson with Jeff (photo courtesy of Heather Pope)

I rented the type of lens that Jeff recommended, a 17-50mm, and the night before the big event I set out in my neighborhood to practice under the same lighting conditions. Of course, Mother Nature was not cooperating with my photo cram session. It had snowed all day, and by 5:00 Boston was experiencing what meteorologist lovingly refer to as a “wintery mix”. So much for practicing in similar conditions.

On Sunday night, I arrived on Charles Street for Birthday Wishes Luminary Evening. Birthday Wishes is an amazing charity that throws birthday parties for homeless children. The organization believes that every child, regardless of living situation, deserves to celebrate their birthday joyfully. It’s an amazing charity. Many of the shops on Charles Street agreed to display candles outside their shops to celebrate Birthday Wishes’ tenth birthday.

As I approached the first shop that was displaying the Birthday Wishes illuminated installations, I thought W.W.J.D.: What Would Jeff Do! I moved all around the sidewalk in front of Upstairs Downstairs, looking through the viewfinder to find the best angle. I leaned against a lamp-post, stood on my tippy-toes, moved forward, moved back and crouched down low…there…I found the perfect angle.

The perfect angle

I moved up and down Charles Street stopping at each of the stores that were participating, feeling more and more confident with each picture I took. I shot many more pictures than I needed (I learned that from Jeff as well), and I even felt comfortable enough to experiment with using the added flash that I rented. It turns out the lens was all I needed. I was having fun as my old photography skills came flooding back, and I was suddenly reminded why I have loved photography for so long. Here are a few of my favorites from the Birthday Wishes event:

Outside The Red Wagon

Upstairs Downstairs

Outside the Beauty Mark

I even got a little artsy-fartsy

I have to remember that when I take on these adventures I am usually learning from an expert in whatever field or activity I try. I need to have as much confidence in myself has they have in me. At the end if the night I felt great; I had done a good deed for a very good cause, and the pictures turned out really well. Best of all, my photos were included in the Boston Globe’s coverage of the event, so now I can say I am a published photographer! Not bad for a Sunday night. Anyone in need of a wedding photographer?

Thanks go out to the talented Jeff Allen. I would have been lost without his advice and guidance. I was not compensated in any way for this post

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I hope each and ever one of you have a wonderful holiday season, I’ll be back in the new year!

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