Jersey Girl in Texas

Being Green in a Red State

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa Gardina) — Fri, 24 Apr 2009 14:12:00 +0000

Instead of talking about Rick Perry's (somewhat stammering) declaration of the desire to secede, I'm going to talk about riding a bike. And walking. And recycling.

Holding Ithaca near and dear to my heart... I try to help the environment. Now, when I lived in Ithaca, I was never what anyone there would call "green". I fell somewhere in the middle of people driving SUVs less than a mile to class everyday and environmental club members with their own organic gardens. Not to say some of my dearest friends didn't belong to those groups. But, I wasn't necessarily green.

When I bought my Vespa in July, my Texas friends were shocked. Amidst the teasing for driving a scooter around all day, I got 75 MPG when gas was almost $5. Always a frugal girl, I can take a little flack in exchange for saving a few bucks. I was also instantly known as the greenest person in the office.

Since then, I've taken on such other shocking habits as:

Recycling
Walking places
Buying local
Cooking for myself
Using the word "organic"

My most recent development has been (are you ready for this?) riding my bike to work. It's a scant 3 miles, something Ithacans don't bat an eye at. In Texas, the very fact that I don't valet when I get to work is stunning. I get weird looks when I'm tooling along Swiss Avenue and shocked looks from the nearby construction sites as I coast down the streets.

Oh well, I guess it just reinforces that whole earth mother, granola thing I've got going on. Then again, that's pretty much how all of us northerners are viewed down here!

Relections on a Tea Party

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa Gardina) — Thu, 16 Apr 2009 13:54:00 +0000

This blog has always been about the culture shock I experienced when moving from the Northeast to good ol' Texas. In a presidential election year, I moved from Ithaca, New York, easily one of the most liberal places in the country, to Texas, easily one of the most conservative. I've gotten into political "discussions" ("fights" just sounds bad) in bars, at work and among friends. With these discussions has not only come a lot of ranting and raving, but an opening of my eyes to the incredibly varied beliefs of others.

Yesterday, "Tea Parties" swept the nation as conservatives fought against higher taxes and, by extension, President Obama. Protests ranged from justified anger at the current economy to outright racism. Twitter showed both sides - the tag #teaparty for supporters and #teabagger for those opposed. Before I start ranting and raving again, let me enumerate some basic truths:

Most people believe it's their way or the highway. I've seldom agreed with my conservative family (sorry Gramps!) and often find it impossible to understand their perspective.
People love to complain.
People love to think that these complaints are going to change the world. Don't believe me? Watch any political "news" show on television. I can't anymore.

Thus, we have ourselves a Tea Party. A rebellion against perceived injustices, a tradition begun over 200 years ago.

And I'm fine with it. The Constitution, which we have spent the past 8 years trying to defend, guarantees the right to assemble. The right to carry Confederate Flags (as much as they stand for evil, prejudiced things), the right to voice dissent against the President (no longer do the Alien and Sedition acts stand, sorry) and the right to moan, whine and complain about things that you may not understand.

Fellow liberals, dissenters and others: please stop your insults and degradation against those who simply needed to let off steam. 4 years ago, they were calling us "liberal hippies" and dismissing us as we are dismissing them. Intolerance begets intolerance, and that's just not what we need right now. Let them cry, let them complain. Maybe once that's over, we can begin the process of learning how to work together again to solve all the real problems out there.

And I just found out that the Governor of Texas wants to secede. I think this blog's back in action.

Bleached Hair and Bedazzled Bags

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa Gardina) — Mon, 10 Nov 2008 03:11:00 +0000

In order to take my mind off the lameness that is currently the Giants defense, (c'mon. It's the Eagles. Let's go.) I am going to describe to you the eerie similarities I have seen shared between North Jersey and Texas.

Note: for those of you not familiar with the state of New Jersey, the state is actually broken down into three parts. South Jersey is like... Oklahoma. Farms, pickup trucks and wide open spaces. That's right. Oh, and Atlantic City. Central Jersey (where I'm from) is home to the Boss and Bon Jovi and is cool, laid back and awesome (of course). North Jersey is the Sopranos. It's women with bleached blonde hair and fake nails, guys that actually say Fuggetaboutit and is home to those accents that everyone associated with the state (oh. my. gawd.).

A disclaimer before I continue. Mom, I know you're from North Jersey. No offense.

This Saturday, my boyfriend and I attempted to attend the Dallas Sample Sale. I think I heard sample sales discussed in Sex and the City once. They're supposed to be trendy sort of yard sales for designers and other high-end labels. How wrong I was.

Our first stop was a warehouse sale. We had parked on the wrong side of the building and walked into a big scary room where the most popular items appeared to be housecoats and dog beds. Second, we found ourselves in a giant antique sale, where everything smelled like a bowling alley or a church (or a terrible combination of both). If you missed it, I'm sorry, because you totally missed out on your chance to buy an ear horn.

The third try was the charm and we finally arrived at the Dallas Sample Sale! Let the shopping begin!

Yeah, right.

This is where the eerie similarities begin. Bedazzled bags, bleached blonde hair as far as the eye could see, jewelry that would have been tacky in the 80s. I started having flashbacks to family trips to Bayonne in the 90s. Household furnishings ranged from what looked like end tables carved out of stumps to collectors sets of colorful crosses. My vision blurred from over stimulation. The tackiness was palpable.

Still... it made this Jersey Girl a little homesick. Pink tipped nails, teased out hair, blue eyeshadow. There's no place like home. There's no place like home.

Thank yous from abroad

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa Gardina) — Wed, 05 Nov 2008 17:20:00 +0000

I love the "Yes We Can" video from Will.I.Am. Even more now, I love the comments that have been posted (and yes, I am ignoring the racist, bigoted BS that always appears in YouTube comments). Some examples:

Congratulation for Obama from Brazil!!!!

Felicitaciones!!!!
Sin duda esto va a dar nuevas esperanzas a millones de personas en todo el mundo
Presidente Obama!!

YES YOU DID !!!!
congratulations you all americans !!!
Thanks so much

Congrats, this is history in the making folks. Best of luck from your neighbours to the north, you deserve it

Enhorabuena al nuevo presidente de los Estados Unidos. Greetings from Spain.

Thanks to everyone who voted obama from north west london UK you've saved the world.

Yes. We. Can. And we did!

When I Found Out

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa Gardina) — Wed, 05 Nov 2008 16:36:00 +0000

Growing up, the 2 big questions I always had for my parents were "where were you when the first man walked on the moon" and "where were you when you heard JFK was killed?" I know now that I will have my own question to answer: "where were you when Obama was elected?"

My answer:

I was sitting my couch with some of my closest friends, watching the predictions roll in. I'd been assured of a landslide victory all day, but I wasn't buying it. I refused to buy champagne because I didn't want to be the one person that jinxed our country's best chance for change (and yes, I am that superstitious). I cheered when New Jersey went Democratic and nearly cried when Texas was initially declared "too close to call". Finally, at 9:59, Wolf Blitzer made the call.

With 20 seconds left before the West Coast polls officially closed, CNN's anchor declared, "I think after we get these results, we'll have a major prediction to make". All Obama needed was California and the (predicted) victory was his. We counted down like it was New Year's Eve and I inched closer and closer to the edge of my couch, head in my hands, too nervous to watch.

I heard the now-famous CNN Prediction jingle, looked up and saw "Barack Obama Elected President". I fell to the floor, unable to speak, completely in shock. It had happened. We had done it. We had risen above bigotry and deceit to elect the best candidate to our highest office.

Congratulations, America. I'm proud!

I was told this is "classic Texas"

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa Gardina) — Fri, 12 Sep 2008 18:43:00 +0000

I've been reading up on Ike and trying to figure out how much wine I'm going to have to buy to make it through the next few days. I stumbled upon this article via Fark, which had this gem of a quote:

"If the island is going to disappear it has to be a tsunami," he said, as he walked along the block where his home is located, drinking a beer and smoking a cigarette. "If it ain't your time you ain't going anywhere."

I read that aloud to my coworkers, who deemed that "classic Texas". One said that people like that drive her crazy, and I had to break it to her that almost all Jerseyans think Texans talk that way!

Bringing back some Italian hand guestures

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa Gardina) — Tue, 09 Sep 2008 19:47:00 +0000

One of my favorite book series are the books about Stephanie Plum, a character created by Janet Evanovich. Stephanie Plum is a true Jersey girl, and she often refers to the hand signals notoriously made by New Jersey drivers as "Italian hand gestures". I'm famous for them. Really.

Let's go to the third person for this story. I just think it'll make it more interesting, plus things are always cooler when you talk about yourself in the third person.

We catch up to our heroine, the lovely Vespa rider as she ignores yet another group of men yelling "hey girl" out their car windows. She drives past a construction site and again marvels that men still believe that whistling actually has any effect at all. The gorgeous rider heads down Greenville, cursing under breath at the minivans coasting along at 5 MPH (It's my story, and I can exaggerate what I want.)

She expertly takes a right turn, ignoring the one rogue minivan driver attempting to go 60 down a side street. The light in front of her is red, of course. When riding a Vespa, lights are always red, especially when it's raining, scorching hot or when our heroine is starving.

Today she is starving AND boiling.

Green light. Signaling like any good scooter driver, she advances into the intersection and waits for oncoming cars to pass so she can turn left. This being Dallas, it involves watching one near rear-ending, one person choosing to turn right from the left lane and one car clearing the intersection at about 90 MPH. During all this activity, she hears a honk.

And another honk.

And a lean on the horn oh my lord my wife is having a baby get out of the way honk.

She turns around and sees the mini van driver from before glaring at her, gesturing her to turn left in front of the 90 MPH deathmobile.

Our heroine, ever the cool, calm and collected, waits her turn and turns left.

And drives off into the scorching sunset, middle finger raised in the air.

The trouble with MLB.tv

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa Gardina) — Wed, 03 Sep 2008 03:09:00 +0000

To start, I guess I should confess something. I am a huge Yankee fan. I know, I know, they're the evil empire, I'm such a frontrunner, etc. I've heard it all. I've also been a fan forever, just like any good Jersey girl. I can remember the 1996 World Series vividly, sitting about 5 inches away from our 12" TV in the kitchen (why I wasn't in the living room, I'll never know) absolutely convinced that Derek Jeter was my soul mate.

Was! Not is! I swear!

Anyway, after moving to Texas, I realized that I couldn't make it the rest of the season without the ability to watch my boys play ball. Not only that, but the Yankees were playing horribly, and when I watch, they win. Therefore, for the good of the team (and with some persuasion from my Red Sox fan boyfriend), we got MLB.tv.

It sucks.

The audio cuts in and out. The high quality video doesn't work and the low quality skips. It constantly says we're logged in on multiple machines. I even broke down tonight and called technical support. They recommended I empty my trash. What?!

That's not the biggest issue. As a marketing geek, I grimace every time there's what MLB calls a "break in the action", a time when cable stations are showing commercials to pay the bills. MLB.tv splits this time 3 ways:

1. Inanely repetitive commercials for the MLB.com store with horribly messed up audio levels
2. Inanely repetitive commercials for Sony starring a Dane Cook lookalike and a scary pale physics professor
3. A graphic that for some reason says "Break in the action", superimposed over the text "134 RBI", which I imagine must be some magic number in the mind of MLB.

I know this is a paid service and MLB might get some flack for selling commercials, but what if those spots had a significant effect on the price of the service? Not only that, but when I subscribed I handed over all sorts of demographic info - info that certainly showed that I'm not in the market for a Sony TV sold by Professor Creepy. Why not put up ads that are targeted to me?

Fine, fine. If MLB wants to avoid the whole paid advertising during a paid service issue, at least put some highlights or anything with audio in there. The same Sony ad 3 times in a row followed by a jarring silence for 45 seconds or more is really throwing me (and thus, the Yankees) off our game.

What's your solution to the MLB.tv quandary?

Long Weekends and Funny Signs

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa Gardina) — Thu, 28 Aug 2008 11:41:00 +0000

First, this was the sign on an ATM in Jersey. Check out the fine print on the bottom. Looks like they're sorry for more than just not taking deposits! Courtesy of my mom, her cameraphone and some LOLcat building fun:

Thank you, New Jersey. Even when I'm over a thousand miles away, you never cease to amuse me.

My boyfriend and I are taking a day trip out to Fort Worth this weekend for some good 'ol fried pickles and honky tonk country music. I can't believe I just said that!

A Gift from HARO!

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa Gardina) — Wed, 27 Aug 2008 01:59:00 +0000

I just got my HARO (Help A Reporter Out) shirt and it's awesome:

It came in probably the first hand-addressed envelope I've gotten so far at work!

To all my PR-type and journalist friends (that's right, I swing both ways...friend-wise) make sure you check out HARO. Journalists can submit pitches and PR pros can find out who needs what. We've already pitched a few articles about the museum, and HARO has been a great resource!

(Reminder: make sure you vote for the Hot Blogger Calendar!)

(Reminder #2: follow me on Twitter: @agardina)

Traffic's like a cattle drive

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa Gardina) — Tue, 26 Aug 2008 12:32:00 +0000

Granted, I've never actually witnessed a cattle drive. But, I have seen a cow, which puts me ahead of a lot of my fellow Jerseyans. And the most recent cow I saw was at Visions on Friday night (that's right - there was a cow at a women's expo. Don't question it, this is Texas.)

Before I get too into the weirdness that is cows at a trade show, let me lasso this one back on topic. I'm a Jersey driver. I scare my Connecticut and Upstate New York friends with my constant honking, Italian one finger saluting, cursing self. I've driven to Boston in rush hour, something I will never EVER do again. I've had several near-death experiences as a passenger in New York City - in a cab, in a van and (perhaps worst of all) with my mother (just kidding, Mom!)

Therefore, I consider myself an expert on bad driving. Bennys (tourists to the Jersey Shore from Bayonne, Elizabeth, Newark and New York) are classic examples: running stop signs, turning right from the left lane, I've seen it all.

Then I moved to Dallas.

People here are out for blood. They drive crazy, they own guns and they tailgate you at 80 MPH in giant Ford pickups on monster truck wheels. Route 75, the highway that runs north/south, is so insane during rush hour (which goes from 6 AM until 4 AM as far as I've seen) that I find myself wishing for the relative sanity of the Parkway South on Fridays in the summer.

Let's review some traffic laws that Dallas drivers have decided are optional. Red lights don't really mean stop if you were anywhere in the vicinity when they were yellow. Signaling from turns, heck, even being in the correct LANE for turns is considered a sign of weakness. Nodding in the general direction of stop signs is just as good as actually stopping.

Luckily, these drivers seem to be confused by my little Vespa and me. They keep their distance (or pull up next to me and catcall), and for that I'm grateful. Nevertheless, I'm still not afraid to honk or yell - even if I am on a scooter.

Hot Blogger Calendar

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa Gardina) — Mon, 25 Aug 2008 20:25:00 +0000

I'm not sure how this happened, but I managed to get myself nominated for the Hot Blogger Calendar. And, since I work in marketing, I'm no stranger to shameless self promotion. Thus, in order for you all (y'all?) to make an educated decision, here's a picture of me in all of my glory (granted this was taken during a vacation in Hawaii when I was tan, relaxed and full of pina coladas, but it's a close approximation)

Now you can all go off and make informed decisions! (And if you're still feeling confident about your decision, vote here!)

I'm really in a pickle

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa Gardina) — Mon, 25 Aug 2008 11:38:00 +0000

(Note to new readers: I love bad puns)

I've noticed this odd trend in Texas. Everywhere I go, there seem to be pickles for sale. Not in jars, not on sandwiches, just a big vat of pickles for the sellin'. Movie theatres, 7-11s, they all have pickles placed in the same prominence as other big sellers like popcorn and lottery tickets.

Always eager to point out that I really don't know what's going on in Texas, I decided to ask my co-workers about this pickle fascination. The response? "What fascination? Don't you love pickles too?"

Now I'm not one to make fun of another culture's culinary decisions (and if you don't think Texas is a completely different culture from Jersey, visit both and compare). However, this pickle thing is a little too much for me. Apparently Texans have decided that popcorn + a pickle is an ideal movie snack. When lounging at home on a Saturday night, a pickle + Cheetos is a great snack, and a pickle by itself is a... treat?

I find myself, again, in this North/South pickle (I had to do it). So I ask you, dear readers, should I take the plunge and embrace my inner pickle-loving Texan, or should I stay true to my Jersey roots and save it for the sub?

Best Headline Ever Award

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa Gardina) — Fri, 22 Aug 2008 18:41:00 +0000

Just a quick post to award the "Best Headline Ever" award to CNN:

McCain Roach Wins in Landslide

I just also have to point out that this race apparently took place in Jersey, so a big shoutout to my home state - you sure know how to pick 'em!

Adventures in Unsocialized Medicine

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa Gardina) — Mon, 18 Aug 2008 11:57:00 +0000

When I was studying abroad in London, I had some fun experiences with socialized medicine (that later led to 4 weeks in a foot brace, but that's another story). I'm not a hypochondriac, I'm not plagued by terrible medical maladies (thank goodness), but I am pretty clumsy and pretty.. well, clumsy pretty well covers it.

I also haven't had a physical in 5 years (switching insurance companies 3 times in 3 years while away at college didn't help). I'm one of the lucky few (again, I'd like to send a big "thank you" to those of you who killed our economy) who have full-time employment and affordable health care. Unfortunately, this "affordable" health care comes from that lovely company known as Humana. I've encountered Humana before, when I worked as a researcher for the Project on Government Oversight. We researched Humana and found over $125 million in lawsuit losses. What a model company.

I'm furious right now because they're denying a claim from my recent tetanus shot with whooping cough booster. I haven't had a tetanus shot in over 10 years. Unfortunately, according to Humana, after I turned 18 I lost all rights to immunization. That's right - after you're legally an adult, you can no longer get all those wonderful diseases prevented by vaccination. What a time saver!

My coworkers have also had wonderful experiences with Humana, ranging from sudden revelations that in-network doctors are now out-of-network to a policy that makes deductibles for surgeries astronomical.

Well, Humana, you messed with the wrong Jersey Girl. Thanks to your policy (page 17, section 2, paragraph 4), I, along with my coworkers, will be pressuring my employer to change providers. They may not be much better, but I'll take the risk because they're probably better than you.

An Ode to Colin's Driving

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa Gardina) — Fri, 15 Aug 2008 01:01:00 +0000

I have decided that my boyfriend's driving merits many haikus. I will call them:

An Ode to Colin's Driving
By Alyssa

Deep holes in pavement
They call to me tenderly
Get a flat, so what?

The stoplight is red
But I really must go left
Just go anyway!

Five miles 'til exit
And the right lane is so slow
Better be prepared!

Changing lanes, turning
No need to signal at all
Just keep them guessing

Anger, in silence
Muttering under my breath
Don't honk, shows weakness

For those of you that haven't driven with Colin, the preceding haikus detail his love for potholes, turning right on red, being overprepared for exits, lack of signaling, and failure to honk when people drive poorly.

By the way, in Texas - people really are aiming for you on the highway.

It's a Touchy Subject

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa Gardina) — Thu, 14 Aug 2008 21:20:00 +0000

I went to school in upstate New York. Our hippie to non-hippie ratio was somewhere in the ballpark of 20:1. We had green home goods stores, compost sites, and initiatives to replace all our bulbs with energy-friendly alternatives. I, as a SUV driver, was not considered to be green. Here in Texas? I'm the office environmentalist. I recycle, I drive a Vespa (which wasn't really an option in the arctic north), and I turn my computer off every night.

It's actually pretty easy being green, comparatively.

Something that I got comfortable with up in the North (and, yes, I get called a Yankee all the time) was homosexuality. It really never seemed like a big deal to me. We made jokes, I talked candidly about my love (however unrequited) for Shakira, and it was, all in all, definitely NOT a "don't ask, don't tell" culture. We were open about it.

Fast forward to July. Me, the enterprising young Yankee makes a joke about loving Jodie Foster. Honestly, I just said I love her as an actress. Scandal ensues. I, a straight woman, LOVE (?!?!?!) a homosexual actress?! Gasp!

...if my friends from college had a conversation with my friends down here, much political incorrectness would ensue.

This is followed by conversations about "gay" areas, newsletters in my inbox detailing bars that most homosexuals "stick to" and a bunch of other comments that make a liberal kid like me from the north feel pretty darn awkward. I knew that perspectives would be a bit different down here, but, just like my political views, I find that censoring myself has prevented a lot of questioning looks.

I wish I had a snappy conclusion to this blog post, but I'm pretty much just confused and feeling a little out of place. Maybe we should make a movie as a modern-day version of "An American in Paris" - "A Jersey Girl in Texas". I've got plenty of material!

Missing the Back to School

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa Gardina) — Tue, 12 Aug 2008 14:12:00 +0000

I get to be mopey for this entry. It's my prerogative as a blogger. I've been talking to a couple of people who are gearing up to go back to school in a few weeks, and it's just now hitting me that I'm not one of them. No more wine nights, library marathons, smoothies at Campus Center, party hopping in the Circles. I miss it. A lot.

I know this is the same kind of crisis a lot of recent grads go through, but that doesn't really make it any easier. My best friends are spread out from Maine to LA, Ithaca to Texas (me!) We're working in restaurants, museums, newspapers, and something along the lines of education (right?) And after all the trials, tribulations, attempts at success, and crazy roller coaster ride that these past few months have been, I just really want to sit back with a bottle of Barnyard Red and play some Cranium.

On the bright side, it's Restaurant Week (what self-respecting Jersey girl isn't distracted by food?) and we're checking out a restaurant called Fuse tomorrow night. Plus, it's someone's birthday, so some celebrating is in order. /mope

Being a Northern Liberal in the Good 'Ol South

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa Gardina) — Mon, 11 Aug 2008 13:51:00 +0000

Being a liberal in Texas is kind of like having a weird hobby. You enjoy it, you know others enjoy it, but there's really no good way of finding out who else likes collecting stamps or categorizing bugs (ew.) In my case, I kind of listen to the people in my office talking, and when one of them says one of a few key words (Obama and Democrat, for example) without sneering, spitting, or otherwise freaking out, I usually approach them. The next step is to quietly ask, "so you like Obama too?" and go from there.

Funny enough, those I know who align themselves with the conservative side of the political coin aren't saying much about their love for John McCain. The consensus seems to be that they not only are afraid of Obama (because he's clearly Muslim and his wife is unpatriotic), but they're afraid of McCain as well.

(Sometimes I feel like a spy, planting anti-McCain thoughts in the minds of my "Republican" buddies)

I've encountered a lot of mockery from my family about being a "dirty liberal". Then I went away to college and started to lean even more to the left. Now I'm down in Texas and the whole politics thing (even in a city like Dallas) is kind of hush-hush. Yet, as we get closer to November, and politics start being on everyone's mind (I hope), what's a Jersey girl to do?

Maybe the same thing I do to my Grandpa - retaliate to his McCain propaganda with fact check and some snippy photos from Pundit Kitchen and hope, come November, everyone will see the light. (That's my light. Not the McCain light. The Obama light. Right.)

Turning into a Yuppie

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa Gardina) — Tue, 05 Aug 2008 14:59:00 +0000

No. Seriously. I am. Except for the plush downtown loft, which I can't afford (thank you, economy). Apartment aside, let's check the Yuppie checklist:

Wine lover
Vespa owner
Banana Republic shopper (okay, outlets and clearance, but it counts)
Foodie and cook
Central Market superfan

I think that about sums it up. I also just joined the Young Association Professionals group, an online community for young non-profit professionals. I've found a lot of groups in the past few weeks (longer, if you count my passive participation in the We Are Media project. I think these groups will serve me incredibly well - I already feel as connected as when I was a member of AAF (the American Advertising Federation).

Which brings me to my point (yes, I have a point): social networks are as valuable as you make them. Having a Linked-In profile is great, but if it's not updated, no one's going to find you in search results. Twitter all you want, but if you don't have any followers, no one's listening to what you're saying.

I'm working on a launch of a bunch of different social media for the museum, and I'm afraid of falling into what's basically the social media trap. If you don't update, you're obsolete. If you're irrelevant, game over. It's an intimidating prospect, but for an organization that currently has one blog post written about it, the risk factor is actually pretty low. I'm going to be leaning on these communities pretty hard for the next few months, looking for advice - but isn't that what they're there for?

Valet for A Vespa

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa Gardina) — Mon, 04 Aug 2008 13:57:00 +0000

This weekend I spent some time with a bunch of other Northeast-to-Dallas transplants, and we were discussing (over several glasses of wine) some of the major differences between the Northeast and Texas. My favorite comment was about how we feel compelled to dress up on Sundays if we're going out in public, even if we're not going to church (it's true).

That got me thinking about one of the differences I've noticed most: valet parking. Now I'm a Jersey girl, and we Jersey girls are lazy in our own right, but Dallas takes the cake (and eats it too). Dallas has valet parking for restaurants, concerts, movies, the mall, cafes, sandwich shops... you get the idea. (Coincidentally, the only time they don't have valet is when there's no parking to be found for miles. Go figure.)

Most of the time, valet's your only option - the only parking in the area is reserved for valet spots, so you have to fork over $5-$10 for the privilege of having someone else park your car.

Maybe it's because Dallas girls wear such high heels all the time... (I wore jeans out to dinner on Friday *gasp* and got some looks from my fellow females. I was in a pizzeria. Get over it.)

I digress (as always). I have, however, found a solution to the valet parking problem: my Vespa. Valet guys don't expect to be allowed to just zip off on my Vespa, so my approach now is to just hover around the valet stand until they notice me and point me to some prime sidewalk space. Close parking, no payment necessary, and a Vespa monitoring service all-in-one! I could get used to this...

Next up in our Dallas-is-kind-of-lazy series, grocery shopping. (Seriously.)

Making a habit of it

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa Gardina) — Fri, 01 Aug 2008 17:53:00 +0000

I just got a comment on my last post and realized that I've kind of abandoned this blog. Thanks to MizFit (*waves*). I'm going to try to update more regularly, but I always bounce between boring the (few) people who read this and actually updating more than once every few weeks.

The job search continues for many (not for me, but for many of my friends). I'm trying to help out the best I can, but there's only so many LinkedIn and Talentzoo searches one can do. I do want to recommend Talentzoo to all my recent grad/ad industry readers - it's a great resource for jobs in ad/marketing/PR. The economy, however, isn't playing along:

According to CNN, unemployment is up to a 4 year high, so let's add that to Alyssa's list o' things to ignore in order to remain optimistic.

Sigh.

I'm not an expert on any of this, but I think that after all this job-hunting, adjusting, post-grad crisis stuff is over, I may be. Is there any sort of certification for job counselors? How about life counselors? That's me. (Not saying I don't like it! I love being there for my friends! I just want a certification!)

Maybe I'm certifiably... something (ha!)

Anyway, this post is getting rant-tastic, so I'm going to sign off now. This week has (yet again) been completely exhausting, and I'm staying late at work tonight to help with a video shoot. I need a glass of wine.

A week of long days

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa Gardina) — Fri, 18 Jul 2008 00:08:00 +0000

It's been one of those days for a lot of days now
I need a day where the world can take care of itself
This isn't what I wanted how I thought my life would turn out
And I wonder if it's like this from here on out
"Not Done Yet" - Superchick

No one said being a grown up was this hard, but now I understand when people say "if it's not one thing, it's something else". It really is. Being a recent grad in a recession has something to do with it as well, because we're really just trying to survive. Each gas tank fill up, each electric bill, each trip to the grocery store is full of one question - can I afford this?

And I don't want my graduating class to be accused of being spendthrifts, lazy, or anything like that. I've cut back bar nights, virtually eliminated shopping for non-necessities, and we (gasp!) don't have cable. (Internet is now a luxury item. Ridiculous.)

I subscribe to blogs about saving money, I write down tips about how to save everywhere I go. Yet, to me (and I'm obsessed with savings, obsessed with rainy day accounts), I'm barely staying afloat.

It's scary. Did I grow up too fast?

Honestly, who isn't on facebook?

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa Gardina) — Wed, 16 Jul 2008 15:20:00 +0000

Well, to answer that question, my mom's not, but she knows my login information, so that's close enough. I'm pretty excited because I just launched the museum's Facebook page and, after some hard work (thanks Colin and Nic!), I think it looks pretty good.

I have to pitch a social media plan to the board next week, and I'm starting to get pretty nervous. Luckily, fate's on my side and I found this article, which sets me up for a lot of common objections and how to respond to them. Being prepared to present new media to a group of VIPs? Check.

I'm trying to decide what to blog about for the museum - I want a mix from exhibits (to go along with our podcasts), current women's issues, and discussion about the museum's future. I really want to start the conversation about the museum - there's nothing on blogs, twitter, etc. yet. Scary yet exciting!

In Vespa news, honking at me then waving and saying "nice wheels" is not a good idea. It does get my attention, but it makes me swerve, and I don't think I'll make an attractive trauma patient. Thanks.

The economy and pick-up lines

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa Gardina) — Fri, 11 Jul 2008 16:02:00 +0000

Graduating during a economic decline, recession, rainy day (whatever you want to call it) is hard. Employers aren't hiring, gas prices are skyrocketing, food is expensive, and I've even had to cut back on my weekend bar-hopping (jeez!)

I recently invested in a Vespa to get to and from work and save me from spending a fortune on fueling my Ford Escape. Since I've gotten it, I've been the recipient of more than my fair share of pick-up lines, catcalls, and kissing noises from passing car windows. I'm wearing a helmet and sunglasses. It's not attractive.

Anyway! The majority of the pick-up lines haven't been at me. They've been at my cute purple Vespa, which averages around 65 MPG. Yesterday, while I was stopped at a red light, a guy walking by yelled out, "what an efficient little thing!" (Now, if he had said that directed at me, I probably would have decked him, but the Vespa can't fight back).

In the era of a declining economy, my scooter's fuel efficiency is more attractive than I am. Ouch.