It's been a mere 6 weeks on the new job and I am loving life. Every day I feel lucky to be surrounded by so many experts in the event industry. After spending the past 2 days with our extended family of creative strategists in Chicago, I am all amped up and ready to share this energy with my team in San Francisco. But since I'm trapped on this plane, I thought I'd take a moment to reflect.

It's been an intense six weeks, as I've spent every moment trying to soak it all up, while simultaneously turning it up to 11. I've had to reteach myself how to work in a very focused, yet collaborative environment of individuals that are never doing the same thing each day. A recently acquired boutique transitioning to totally different tools and best practices of our broader company produces little daily annoyances, but nothing compared to some of the passive aggressive environment I’ve worked in before. I've had to put my faith in freelancers I don't know—some ultimately creating more work for me, while others surprised and excited me in ways I didn't think possible. I've visited the SF Marriott 4 times and learned how to negotiate things like window decals, column wrapping and staircase branding.

But with everything new I find myself navigating through, I’m also feeling super accomplished after 6 short weeks. I lead a new business pitch for a super elite thought leadership opportunity in the tech space, delivering a very sexy booklet of headshots with QR codes leading to a microsite of rich content about our firm. I art directed AV for an upcoming General Session. I sat VIP for Fitz and the Tantrums at the Regency Ballroom to scope them out for the evening event I'm designing at SF City Hall. I convinced the entire office to start using Pinterest. I hosted a brainstorm in a room all think tanks should be.

More bonuses? I find myself justifying all invitations out in the name of researching a new experience...something our social life didn't really need any extra justification on, but whatever. And took my work travel to a personal level—fitting in visits with old friends (even if we just napped on the couch on a snowy Sunday watching movies), gluttonous dining choices (burgers at Kuma's and deep dish at Ginos East), and family (a quick dinner before boarding my flight back to SF).

Sure I'm still working a lot and lose sleep over things I can't (yet) control, but I survive on the passion of my teammates and the respect of creative from our inspiring clients. I couldn't be happier with my career change.

After nearly a month off, I am finally back to work and so, so excited to be a part of something completely different. That said, there is much about office life that is so painfully the same. The grass always seems greener when it comes to the small stuff...but what I'm realizing is that it truly is ALL small stuff. All those little things I hated about previous jobs (arrival unpreparedness, seating structure ambivalence, role blurriness) are still prevalent at my new gig, but I am consciously choosing not to sweat them. And I have a feeling my time-off has something to do with this sudden change of attitude.

In the past, I have chosen to dwell incessantly on things that were out of my control, or have not spoken up when I could have made things more clearly defined. However, as I go through my first day, meeting my brilliant new colleagues and learning about my fascinating new clients, I am determined to focus on the positives (friendly & competent admins, sweet office space in a killer location, respect for my talents and timelines, fresh perspectives from a team that's basically just too busy to prepare for my much appreciated arrival).

I'm totally rocking this honeymoon period (I kind of have to, I don't have a computer til the end of the week...), but I'm not an idiot. I know I have a busy couple months ahead of me—meeting extended teams across the network, as well as fully immersing myself into the live event scene—but I'm psyched. It's crazy the fresh outlook a month off can provide.

I love fall. Part of why I love San Francisco so much is because the weather is eternally fall-like. Unfortunately, they don't do foliage like New England—no one does—so I was elated to be able to drive from Boston, Mass to Stowe, Vermont last weekend for a friend's wedding.

The pumpkin shot is one of many shots I captured on the side of the road as we cruised about town in the rain, hoping to ease our suitemate's hanger issues with an oven roasted chicken. This once functioning, now delapitated chicken farm is the back drop for pumpkin sales as well as wedding portraits, the salesman shared.

This is another one of my favorites, taken in the parking lot of the Cider Mill we stopped in for hot apple cider and donuts as we arrived in Stowe. 

Everyone seems to be asking/answering the same question this week: Where were you 10 years ago today?

My story, summed up in 75 characters on the New York Times Interactive Map, isn't universally special, but it was a day I won't ever forget. It was 11 days after saying goodbye to my family in Massachusetts to move 8 hours south into a house in NW Washington DC. It was also the very day after I had applied to every open design position in the DC Metro area by faxing in my resume, dropping off promotional samples, and emailing my contacts a link to my portfolio—an effort that definitely went unseen. The minute the first plane hit the north tower and the days events unfolded, I knew that new design hires would become a lesser priority as the year progressed.

To afford my rent and pass the time before finding my first job out of college that my hard work at Syracuse had promised me, I was working mornings as a barista at Starbucks (5am - 2pm) and evenings waitressing on the Georgetown waterfront (5pm - 2am) and napping between shifts. On Tuesday, September 11, 2001 at 8:46am, I was working the register and chatting up customers—oblivious to what had just happened in NYC. When the Pentagon was hit nearly an hour later, a woman ran in and screamed "Do you have a radio or something? NY and DC are under attack!" Without any access to media, only patrons relaying what they knew, I was instructed to close down the store and get home as quickly as we could, which was luckily a couple blocks away in Tenleytown. Cell service was crap and my roomates who worked in government buildings were instructed to stay put, so I sat alone, watching the horrific images sitting crosslegged on the hardwood in front of my new tv, in my new house, in my new city, alone.

I grew up that day. And it was the 2nd instance that year where I was forced to grow up.

My favorite part of the online contributions this week is that we're almost able to get back to those days immediately following the attacks. The days when everyone smiled more sincerely and conversed a little longer, having been a part of something bigger than anything we had going on previously. Sure it took another 5 months, freelancing and another part-time job at the GAP for the holidays before I got that true first job out of college, but the life lesson I experienced is one that has shaped who I am today. 10 years later, now living in San Francisco, I celebrate my independence and value those that surround me—dare I say it—"more than ever".

I will continue reflect today by doing the most American thing I can think of: drinking beer and watching baseball at the Giants/Dodgers game at AT&T Park. 

This unfortunate photo, meant to advertise an introductory pole-dance work out class in Cow Hollow, reminded me of 2 things.
1. I need to work out more, and
2. I haven't blogged in awhile.

Sorry, Mom. I'll try to better document my September.