Monthly Archives: January 2013

Day 176: Confidence Builders and A New Start Up

bulb copyI’ve never been much of an entrepreneur. Don’t get me wrong, I’m highly driven and creative but I prefer a cushy job at a large corporation over the thrills (and challenges) of working in a start up environment. Last weekend in the dead middle of night, I was suddenly struck with an idea. I dreamt up an unconvential blog-based business that combines three of my long-time passions: beauty, fashion, and writing.

Immediately I messaged N and shared the details of my proposed business. He was very supportive, encouraging me to think through the strategy and bring my vision to life. To launch this project, there would be a hefty amount of technical work required, but N offered to walk me through it when the time came. The web-tech area isn’t my forte and the mere thought of purchasing a domain, constructing a website and configuring the back-end was intimidating. After we concluded our impromptu late night conversation, I couldn’t fall asleep. The wheels in my head were spinning. Ideas were brewing. In other words, my mind was on fire.

The next day, I was amped to start laying the foundation for my new venture. But step one involved my least favorite activity: the tech set up. I braced myself and prepared to call N so he could explain the online purchasing process. That’s when the email arrived – the email confirming my recently aquired business domain name and accompanying email address. To my surprise, everything had already been linked to a server and set up for me. All I needed to do was log in! Realizing this was important to me, N went ahead and completed the tech set without me even having to ask.  Most boyfriends give their significant others flowers and chocolates. Mine gave me my first website, and the vote of confidence to start thinking like an entrepreneur.

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Day 165: Magical Maine and An Unconventional New Years Eve

snow-stormMaine turned out to be exactly what I’ve always envisioned when I picture a white Christmas. Peering outside, I was mesmerized by the frosty snow-lined roads and towering trees. It was a scene straight from a postcard. N’s parents’ home is gorgeous – the downstairs a maze of antique-filled rooms and the upstairs a compilation of bedrooms with sweeping windows that frame the snowy landscape.

After spending time with his family, I could see how each person helped mold N into the man he is today. He got his love of adventure and his risk-taking nature from his Dad. N’s deep appreciation for thoughtful gestures and nurturing women is a result of his Mom. All of the pieces fell into place, slowly revealing N’s story. My favorite memories from the trip include a tranquil night time hike in the forest where snow rained from the sky like confetti. Playing board games in the library while the glowing fireplace roared in the background. Dining on some of the freshest seafood I’ve ever tasted at one of the town’s oldest restaurants. But best of all, I was able to establish a positive relationship with N’s family, who he cares so much about.

Soon it was December 31 and N and I awoke at 3:30 AM for our trip home. The journey involved an early morning bus ride from Maine to Boston and a two hour flight delay. Knowing we’d be jet lagged, we didn’t make big New Years eve plans for the night. We arrived home with just enough time to shower before dinner at our favorite sushi restaurant – the one where we shared our first real date. Afterward, we laid in bed watching a movie and total exhaustion set in. N leaned over and gave me a kiss as my eyelids fell. The clock struck 9:30 PM. Elsewhere, women were slipping into shiny cocktail dresses and bottles of wine were being uncorked. While the rest of Los Angeles was just beginning their New Years eve celebrations, N and I were already sound asleep.

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Day 163: Long Layovers and the Waiting Game

airport3“Sorry, folks. Your flight has been delayed.”

As the Milwaukee airport sound system clicked off, I could feel the tempers of my fellow passengers begin to flare. This wasn’t just any delay. It was a four hour delay that moved our Boston arrival time from a reasonable 10:00 PM to a very unreasonable 2:00 AM. I was supposed to meet N at the Boston airport where we’d make the three and a half hour drive to Maine. Now with the late arrival, we’d be forced meet at a nearby airport hotel and spend the night.

Normally I’m a flexible traveler, but I’d already woken up at 7:00 AM that morning to fly from Sacramento to Las Vegas and then from Las Vegas to Milwaukee. With this extended layover, it would be another eight hours before I finally reached N. My laptop and Kindle provided ample distraction and frustrated passengers swapped airline horror stories, triggering some much-needed laughter. Eventually, it was time to depart and we wearily made our way through the night sky to Boston. After finally landing at 2:00 AM, I secured my luggage and headed outside to wait for the 24-hour hotel shuttle.

I immediately realized that I’d greatly underestimated the weather. Even with my gloves, scarf, and heavy wool coat, the 24 degree air cut my face like a knife. Thankfully, I’d contacted the hotel in advance and the shuttle was scheduled to arrive in ten minutes. But ten minutes went by, then another ten, and then another. After a few calls, the hotel admitted to forgetting about my pick up. I swayed back and forth in a feeble attempt to generate body heat. I cursed myself for not purchasing ear muffs. I wondered if it was a bad sign that my toes were numb. The driver arrived at the barren airport 30 minutes later and we completed the half mile route to the hotel.

I was so exhausted from the journey that I didn’t have enough energy to speak with the front desk about my awful shuttle experience. N was already asleep in the room, resting for our drive to Maine. I slid my room key into the door and the green light that was supposed to grant me access didn’t flash. Two more attempts produced the same disappointing result. Great. Then the handle unexpectedly turned, the door creaked opened, and I came face to face with a shirtless N. My N. The handsome, masculine, perfect N who I hadn’t seen for over a week. It was still a bone chilling 24 degrees outside, but at that moment, all memory of my miserable 14 hour trip melted away.

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