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I like to revel in the victorious moments. I enjoy sharing them with the people I love most. Perhaps that's the synergystic relationship between pursuing a career following your passion and your personal life. Particularly in a path that is so flippin' competitive, it's so phenomenally important to have people who support and believe in you.
Well, some people seemed to have missed the memo.
I'm a huge fan of poking fun, joking around, jesting, teasing, joshing, what have you. I adore a good chuckle. But last I checked, there was a line to those friendly jabs. "Real friends are the ones you can make fun of and they love you anyway." Sure, to an extent. Nobody likes the crabby patty that gets all pickle-gilled when you toss a friendly joke in their direction. However, the phrase "Feel the room" exists for a reason. There are some topics that are just too sensitive. For example.
"Haha, you're a failure!"
... Um... Wow.
Don't get me wrong, I can take professional criticism. By a professional. Who knows what they're talking about. And being in the world of communication, you have to be able to get a concept of what other people are thinking, what they want, what will appeal to them, etc. Again, to a certain extent. When I was in college, I used the only sample I had available when assessing the photographs I took at a Men's Basketball game - my peers. The subject was seated in a half-time huddle, exhausted and defeated at the re-injuring of his ankle at the end of the second half. His face is seen staring off low and to the left, head hanging dejectedly, front and center of the shot, framed by two black-uniformed giants on either side.
"Where does your eye go first?"
"The butts."
... *blink blink* ...
Cue the idea that these "masses" don't know what they need, lack the education or the intuition to connect concepts. For example, when I was working at a school:
"Can we get a shot of 5 bajillion kids in this picture? All in focus?"
"Um. What's the concept for this poster again?"
"How we individualize curriculum to each student's specific needs."
.... *facepalm* ...
I want criticism. Constructive criticism. Constructive, professional criticism. I want to become a better visual communicator. A better communicator altogether. I want to learn. I'm eager to don the dunce cap to be awed by the experienced veteran.
Not by my critical compadre. Television isn't real life, here folks. Just because the characters in Friends could make fun of Joey's belly-flopping acting career doesn't mean it's a healthy technique for personal relationships. And now I shall belly-flop off of my soap box. Adieu.
Thursday, January 23, 2014
2013: My Grandma Could Have Done It Better
I remember sitting down in the fresh dew of 2013 and buzzing as I wrote down my secret resolutions (if they're secret, you don't have to be so ashamed when you forget about them ten days later), listing my fitness goals to recover from a foot injury and be the best damn soldier in the unit on my Physical Fitness Test. I resolved to improve with my photography, look into launching my own freelance business, and to have a disposable income by December.
Boy, was I ever a product of 1990's disney films. (Read about #genYproblems with reality here.)
I haven't run without significant pain in over a year. My income... Well. I don't even want to talk about it. I am not a soldier in the US Army, and, with my injury, have no plans to continue pursuing that option. I did launch my own freelance business, and now make enough to finance my car insurance. Not enough to fuel the car that is insured, but that's not the point.
2013 was a load of crap. That's the point. It was chock-full of disappointments and frustrations and crushed dreams.
So maybe resolutions are a load of crap too. How are you supposed to know what curveballs life is going to throw at you? A bogus leadership position in a team of photojournalists at an Army camp similar to the best summer of your life, for example. Or a myriad of downward-spiraling complications with your boyfriend's job that condemns you to an occasional meal with a zombie inhabiting an aging look-alike of the man you love. Equally frustrating, perhaps, a persistent debilitating nausea and waves of stomach cramps that seem to have no cause or solution but time and peppermint tea, to which the doctor prescribes "relaxation" and maybe this pill that makes you even more nauseous and conducts the cramps to a new level of orchestral pain.
You're thinking "Jeez, I didn't click on the link to hear you bitch for five hundred words."
I believe you. I wouldn't either. Let's get to the segway.
I couldn't have predicted these pitch-perfect doozies. No one could. I resolved for a flawless year...
While I was looking over the 70th chapter of an original cover letter for a job application I'm overqualified to take, I started to review the age-old interview questions "What are your greatest strengths and weaknesses?" (Cue video montage of the worst and best moments of 2012 and 2013, with a sappy 1980's love ballad - let's be serious, we all love them)
From working in a high standard environment for low standard pay with entitled youth and adults, I learned that I am capable of both diplomacy and patience. With a job description that was three pages long, I figured out how to outsmart my ADD with to-do lists, priority schedules, reminder alarms, and being overly prepared. Overworked, I still managed to update, organize, and give professional image to every single publication they needed - both print and digital - in less than a year.
Constantly being told my work couldn't compare to a geriatric at an annual celebration of cake and candles by a "professional" who not only didn't understand the proper use of flash on a cloudy day, but also rewrote the ethics of journalism, taught me how persistently I can pursue justice through a team-play attitude and that I strongly believe in producing a quality product in the face of adversity. I also scored publication in a national magazine.
Tenaciously pushing to develop a family-like camaraderie amongst a group of people so obstinently determined to be miserable brought out my faith in the resiliency of humanity, and it's capacity to sustain throughout the harshest of environments, if only given the opportunity for generosity and kindness.
I learned that real friends stand by you through tough times, ice cream, 48% liquor taxes, and even the occasional mood swing. They understand your insecurities, and never insert themselves before your dreams or the love of your life. Their support knows no bounds, no distances, acknowledges no times of disconnect. Their loyalty is priceless. It will not budge. Ever.
You see, perfection is obsolete. Because it's relative. 2013 sucked. But it was a perfect year. I flourished in 2013. I made friends I can honestly say I'll keep indefinitely. I developed skills that will not only enhance my durability for this crazy, roller-coaster Army life, but will assist me in becoming professionally successful, and happier overall. I networked. I persevered. Life bolted a curveball, and I'm currently in the process of knockin' that sucker out of the park. I'm surviving. Thanks to good friends, perspective, time, and an endless hopefulness, I'm climbing, honey.
And for all out there who are struggling with this new 2014 - a little hindsight like the above made all the difference for me. You should try the same.
Now, let's end with a few reasons why "My Grandma Could Have Done It Better" is a completely inept insult.
Grandmas are awesome. The End.
Boy, was I ever a product of 1990's disney films. (Read about #genYproblems with reality here.)
I haven't run without significant pain in over a year. My income... Well. I don't even want to talk about it. I am not a soldier in the US Army, and, with my injury, have no plans to continue pursuing that option. I did launch my own freelance business, and now make enough to finance my car insurance. Not enough to fuel the car that is insured, but that's not the point.
2013 was a load of crap. That's the point. It was chock-full of disappointments and frustrations and crushed dreams.
So maybe resolutions are a load of crap too. How are you supposed to know what curveballs life is going to throw at you? A bogus leadership position in a team of photojournalists at an Army camp similar to the best summer of your life, for example. Or a myriad of downward-spiraling complications with your boyfriend's job that condemns you to an occasional meal with a zombie inhabiting an aging look-alike of the man you love. Equally frustrating, perhaps, a persistent debilitating nausea and waves of stomach cramps that seem to have no cause or solution but time and peppermint tea, to which the doctor prescribes "relaxation" and maybe this pill that makes you even more nauseous and conducts the cramps to a new level of orchestral pain.
You're thinking "Jeez, I didn't click on the link to hear you bitch for five hundred words."
I believe you. I wouldn't either. Let's get to the segway.
I couldn't have predicted these pitch-perfect doozies. No one could. I resolved for a flawless year...
While I was looking over the 70th chapter of an original cover letter for a job application I'm overqualified to take, I started to review the age-old interview questions "What are your greatest strengths and weaknesses?" (Cue video montage of the worst and best moments of 2012 and 2013, with a sappy 1980's love ballad - let's be serious, we all love them)
From working in a high standard environment for low standard pay with entitled youth and adults, I learned that I am capable of both diplomacy and patience. With a job description that was three pages long, I figured out how to outsmart my ADD with to-do lists, priority schedules, reminder alarms, and being overly prepared. Overworked, I still managed to update, organize, and give professional image to every single publication they needed - both print and digital - in less than a year.
Constantly being told my work couldn't compare to a geriatric at an annual celebration of cake and candles by a "professional" who not only didn't understand the proper use of flash on a cloudy day, but also rewrote the ethics of journalism, taught me how persistently I can pursue justice through a team-play attitude and that I strongly believe in producing a quality product in the face of adversity. I also scored publication in a national magazine.
Tenaciously pushing to develop a family-like camaraderie amongst a group of people so obstinently determined to be miserable brought out my faith in the resiliency of humanity, and it's capacity to sustain throughout the harshest of environments, if only given the opportunity for generosity and kindness.
I learned that real friends stand by you through tough times, ice cream, 48% liquor taxes, and even the occasional mood swing. They understand your insecurities, and never insert themselves before your dreams or the love of your life. Their support knows no bounds, no distances, acknowledges no times of disconnect. Their loyalty is priceless. It will not budge. Ever.
You see, perfection is obsolete. Because it's relative. 2013 sucked. But it was a perfect year. I flourished in 2013. I made friends I can honestly say I'll keep indefinitely. I developed skills that will not only enhance my durability for this crazy, roller-coaster Army life, but will assist me in becoming professionally successful, and happier overall. I networked. I persevered. Life bolted a curveball, and I'm currently in the process of knockin' that sucker out of the park. I'm surviving. Thanks to good friends, perspective, time, and an endless hopefulness, I'm climbing, honey.
And for all out there who are struggling with this new 2014 - a little hindsight like the above made all the difference for me. You should try the same.
Now, let's end with a few reasons why "My Grandma Could Have Done It Better" is a completely inept insult.
Grandmas are awesome. The End.
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