Abracadabra!!

I politely tried to get out of doing exercise at the gym today, not because I didn't want to, but because I had... what shall we call it... my monthly visitor. Or mother nature's gift. Or that time of the month, or just my plain old period. And because Korea is so conservative, I tried to be subtle when explaining this to my trainer. At first I just tried to ask for a different exercise. But that didn't work b/c he thought I was weak or having a lazy day (which was not the case!). So I tried to clarify by saying "every month women..."

"Oh," he said quietly.  "In Korea we call that magic day."

I just started laughing. "Magic day? Well, I don't feel very magical." Although it would be cool if on that day (or more accurately, days) I got like Harry-Potter-magical.  Now that would be magical! I could do all kinds of exercises then.

And just in case my trainer was just using stupid guy lingo,  I verified with a female Korean colleague. She told me, yes, a women's period is called Magic Day in Korea. When I asked why she said, "well, maybe it's because on that day women go from being cranky to being their most beautiful. Their skin is amazing."  I think her day must have more of that Harry-Potter-magic than my day.

American as Apple Pie

I don't really know how people  blog all the time. The only way I can think they do it, is by just writing whatever they want and not really thinking about it. How else would you be able to update so frequently?


So today, I do something very un-VCarr-like. Today, I write without real editing to see if this style of free-flow blogging will actually allow me to write something more frequently. Here goes... Today's topic: apple pie.

Apple pie is one of my favorite desserts. It is very easy to make (in the United States). You get some apples; core and peel them. Then you slice them. Mix them with sugar, etc;  dump in a pre-bought pie crust; bake for an hour and... VOILA! VCarr's favorite dessert! (To mask any imperfection serve a la mode).

So naturally, when my client said it was one of her favorite desserts, I said "OMG! Meee too.  I'll make one. It's super easy!"

And so innocently began a fight to the death between me, VCarr, and all that is Korea. The battle was ruthless: a no holds bars either you make it or you don't type fight. I needed to make apple pie, and Korea was going to make it damn near impossible.

Easypart: went to store. Bought apples. Done. (Mind you they were ridiculously overpriced apples b/c fruit here is insanely expensive).

Hard part: realizing that I don't have access to an oven, or a large mixing bowl, or nutmeg,  or brown sugar or vanilla or pie crust, or pie pans (Let's not even mention that I don't have a vegetable peeler).

Harder part still: realizing that I don't know where to get said things.

After three grocery stores, I had found apples... and the precipice of a nervous breakdown. Why a nervous breakdown, you might ask. Well, because I refuse to quit... anything for that matter (even when it's hopeless and illogical). And Korea was not going to win over on good 'ole american pie!  Not this time!

"Oh, Korea, Your taxi cab drivers might kick me out of cabs, your menus might always be in Korean, your food might be heavy on spicy octopus, and light on desserts, but dammit, you aren't going to stop me this time! I will perservere." And Apple Pie became a symbol of my perseverance in a country that is far from my own.

In the end, all I can say is thank God for Panamajoe and his opera singing aunt. Panamajoe is an old friend from my Panama days, and he just happens to be Korean and American and staying in Seoul for 2 months. And he just happened to be with his aunt after an opera performance. And what did Panamajoe provide? Well, his aunt divulged Seoul's secret location for pie crust (and cottage cheese). And Panama joe not only picked up all the missing ingredients but also provided mixing bowls and(drum roll please) the OVEN. You might be wondering what exactly did I do, if Panamajoe was getting all the key ingredients and providing the necessary equipment. Well, I peeled, cored and sliced 8 apples the old fashion way with a knife. And that is certainly not easy.

In the end, I won. I made not one, but TWO apple pies and served them at a client lunch meeting to many accolades. Korea did not triumph this time. I had my pie, and I ate it too. :)

 VCarr 1
 Korea 16,452

SKCarr: Getting My Seoul Blogging Feet Wet

Blog. Blog. Blog. Why won’t I do it? I don’t know why. I’ve started many blog entries. For some reason I haven’t finished them. I suspect it’s because I am secretly intimated by friends and family who keep asking me about my blogs. And so, like any good perfectionist, I procrastinate….

And frankly speaking I don’t know what to write about. I could tell you about doing military training for a company outing and paddling directionless-ly out to sea. I could explain how the grocery store is unnecessarily overwhelming. Or we could discuss how the millionth day of rain here is proof of global warming and my hair’s intentional rebellion against staying in place. I could talk about a lot of things: Korean food, Korean people, Seoul and its cab drivers. But to get my feet wet after a long hiatus, I will start where I started last time: a list of observations about living and working…in Seoul.

1. Seoul has elevators like in the US. However, when you push the “close door” button, it really closes the doors… like immediately. (Please take note elevator technicians in the US. We know the doors aren’t really closing when we push the button. I think I speak for many when I request that we too would like doors to close when we push the “close door” button). It even works for the "open door" button too!

2. People take dental hygiene here to an Olympic level. We all know we should brush our teeth after we eat, but none of us actually do it, except Koreans. For real. My office bathroom has a dozens of toothbrushes and lots of toothpaste. And if they aren’t in the bathroom, everyone keeps their toothbrushes in little neat cases at their desks.

3. And people don’t brush subtly even though we're in a public bathroom.  They go to town with mouths a' foaming and minute after minute of furious brushing. I doubt my dental hygiene will go beyond amteur levels.

4. Goodbye to SweetnLow, Equal, etc. We are now in the land where only sugar can be found. After thorough searching I carry little packets of Korean nutrisweet with me every where I go. You never know when you'll need quick dissolving sweetner. (You'd be surprised how often that is).

5. Imagine if Disney took over the hip-hop and pop music industry and required that everyone actually sing and dance, but only in single gender groups of 4-8… and that is KPOP (Korean Pop music)!  I am addicted! I have no idea what they're saying, but I love it! Surprisingly, there are some bits of English and a “hard” rap section, which I always appreciate.

6.  People strut around the office in slippers. I am not exactly sure why, but if one feels comfortable enough to brush teeth at work, why not wear slippers.

7. No hording post-its, pens and highlighters like I used to. Office supplies are under lock and key. Literally.  If you wanna pen, you must ask for a pen.  L

8. You wanna know what Korean pizza is like. Well,  you could basically put a whole thanksgiving dinner on pizza dough and have a best seller.  Oh, and don't forget the octopus.

9.  At the movies, there are few snacks besides the traditional popcorn, drink and… dried octopus.

10. Koreans seem to like really like octopus.  In case there was any confusion SKCarr only likes octopus that is deep-fried with a side of marinara.  And I certainly don’t like octopus when it’s in little pieces that move around on the plate.  Apparently, it’s just a funny happening if the octopus crawls back up your throat.  EWW!

VCarr's Parents Do A Little Dance….

I sent the email. I signed the contract and have notified my nearest and dearest. And this is what resulted… 

My parents burst into never before seen singing and dancing

My mother was at the kitchen sink doing dishes, her hands in yellow gloves dripping with soapy water. My father stood in the doorway in a white t-shirt and sweat pants.   Apparently some genetic switch was flipped when they heard the news (for the 20th time) because simultaneously, the two began to sway to an unknown tune that only parents can hear; a tune that signals the last of their children is leaving the nest. I don’t know quite how to describe it, but my mother and father balled their little fists, threw their arms out in front of them in a rapid circular motion, turned their eyes to heaven and… what shall I call it… danced like I’d never seen!  All this while chanting “Go VCarr! Go VCarr!”  And as they chanted I reveled in these words of encouragement…and smiled. I am pretty awesome, aren't I?!?  

I suppose my parents could have really been chanting “GOOOoooo (away) VCarr.”  

Naaah, that can’t be right.  I’m just over analyzing.  Go Me!  Go Me!  J

VCarr Coming to Terms

I am sitting here with one of my oldest and bestest friends. A friend who offers me cheese and an allergy pill every time I come over b/c she knows that 1. I love cheese and that 2. I am allergic to her cat. She is a friend that I’ve known since 5^th grade. A friend whose dog I just chauffeured from one side of the city to the other simply out of the kindness of my heart, but mostly b/c I wasn’t doing anything and needed an excuse not to spend another day aimlessly worrying about my future in Korea. And so here we sit, she watching lectures about diuretics and I trying to write an email notifying my future employer that I officially accept the job in Korea.  However, I can’t write the email.  (Don’t get me wrong, I will write the email. I will accept the job. I’m not stupid.) But for right now, at this moment, I simply really don’t want to. Because once I write that email, I will officially have to come to grips with the fact that I won’t be able to sit comfortably with my friend any more. In fact, I won’t be comfortable for a very long time because I am moving to place where no one will know me! No one will know that I love cheese! No one will know that cats make me sneeze!  And when someone needs a ride for their dog, they won’t turn to me. Because that is what you ask of your good friends; people whom you’ve known since 5^th grade. And I won’t know anyone since 5^th grade.  I won’t know a soul.  L*

*OK, that’s not completely true (but it does add a very nice dramatic finish). I will know one person. But he knows nothing of my food preferences, nor my pet allergies. And I’ve only known him for a year, which is nowhere near the 20-year friendship pre-requisite that comes from starting in 5^th grade.

VCarr: Decision Time!

(Somewhere near the end of a very very long job search)

I’m not quite sure what I’m doing with my life. But I do know that I just negotiated a better salary than I could have made in the US. So I guess that means I’m moving to Korea. And I think…. that is…. ok. This might be confirmation bias at work (thanks Russian Commando), but either way I think, I think it’s a good idea.

I held out until the bitter end in my career search and I got exactly what I wanted: a job aboard… only I should have specified that “abroad” really just meant London… or Paris, or any part of Western Europe actually, or maybe Canada, or even the “safe” places in South America. I suppose I should have been a bit more specific sending my request to God. Be careful what you wish for because technically Korea is “abroad.” It might be in a country that is theoretically still at war, and it might be situated right next to potential nuclear conflict, but I didn’t tell God that those things would be an issue. So, there you go. I’m moving to Seoul, Korea… because I got exactly what I wished for.

When I left advertising for business school, I always said I would only go back to advertising for the right boss, the right position and the right salary. And, well, I got all of those things (and to be completely honest, a little bit more). So back to advertising I go.  In all fairness, business school did try to warn me. My pre-business school career assessment tests told me that I should be an advertising account executive… which happened to be exactly what I was doing before business school.  And now, after business school, I’ve spent upwards of a $100K; invested countless hours learning from professors; and generally letting the MBA machine try to turn me into something different— something better. But after two years of school, the result is simply me being pretty much the same person that I was before, still enjoying doing mostly the same work that I did before (and some new stuff), but with a higher paying job.  Which I think is ok. Although, this, too could be confirmation bias at work.  (Darn those organizational behavior classes!).

VCarr Getting Mad, and Getting Nothing Else

(Somewhere in the middle of a very very long job search)

Welcome to the bitter unhappy part of any job search. The place where you go when nothing is going right. When people won’t email or call you back. When you have read every job opening out there; spoken to every contact you can muster; and done just about everything you can think of to get yourself the job. And in this deep dark corner, in its recesses of turmoil, you remember all the potential you once held.  All the money you invested in your ivy league education and graduate degree; the time you spent being successful out there in the “work force.” But alas that is not enough… because “everyone loved you, but [insert ludicrous excuse].” 

My favorite is “everyone loved you, but [we went with someone who had more experience].”  And I wonder is corporate America all colluding in some national office prank? Because it clearly stated my experience on my resume, and I know you, the hiring manager, didn’t read it, but most likely the lowly HR person did. And I ask you, why waste your time (mine, as we know doesn’t matter at all in the process), your resources, your money, on interviewing me on the phone, and then in person? Did you think my experience was some how going to increase by 5 years if we actually chatted through things? Was I going to suddenly look more capable if you saw me face to face? Because the answer to all those questions is NO, it wasn’t going to help. So F--- you, and thank you so much for your time.

VCarr Post-degree: M.B.A. – J.O.B = B.L.O.G

(My Thoughts Two days after graduation…)

After $100K plus investment, what does one do with an MBA?   I know what I’m going to do with mine: frame it. That’s right. I’m taking that sucker and putting it under glass.  Then I will probably put it in a closet somewhere near my undergraduate degree, so it won’t be lonely.  After that, I will head back to my computer and continue looking for a job. 

Yes, you read that correctly. I don’t have a “J”, an “O” or a “B.”  It is, in fact, possible to graduate without one. But do not pity me; now I have time to follow my true passion… which cannot be revealed in case a potential employer reads this.  My passion must remain, shall we say, amenable to future interview questions. (Yes, I love marketing.  Yes, I love consulting. Yes, how could I not love finance?).  I am not saying that I will take any old job.  I do have some rather complicated matrices that I use to identify potential “dream jobs” and “Buy My Soul jobs.”  They are far too complicated to be contained in this blog, but generally they can boiled down to these simple equations:

Dream job = $ + JJJ

Buy My Soul job =  $$$$$ + L

My plan is to analyze these equations.   If I get really desperate, I’ll throw them in excel and see what happens. Derivative here, regression there, quick DCF. You know, b-school stuff. That’s what my degree is in, anyway.  A masters degree in business should be able to help me get a job, right?  I think I read that in the fine print somewhere. Hmmm, lemme just dig that degree out of the closet for a closer look.