Tag Archives: comfort zone

Music Monday: Shut Up and Dance

04 Monday May 2015

Posted by in Music Monday, Overthinking Things

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[spotify https://play.spotify.com/track/4kbj5MwxO1bq9wjT5g9HaA]

This song’s been out there for a hot second, and I’m noticing it getting a lot more play time on the radio. I like it for a couple of reasons. On the surface, it’s got a great beat. I love to turn it up for driving, running, and (imagine that) dancing.

But I also like it for what–or more aptly, who–it represents. It’s the story of that girl, who doesn’t have a care in the world, and doesn’t overthink things beyond that one moment in a club, telling a man, “Shut up and dance with me,” as he falls hopelessly in love.

I think every woman wishes she could be that girl, and every man wishes he could find her. The thing is, I don’t think she really exists outside of movies and books. But it’s fun to jam out to this song, and imagine you are her, if only for 3 minutes and 19 seconds at a time.

When notes between neighbors can surprise you

29 Wednesday Apr 2015

Posted by in Overthinking Things

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When I moved to Chicago, I was eager to find a place that felt like home. After a day of looking at places that were mostly duds, the last place I found just felt right. It had almost everything I was looking for–hardwood floors, stainless steel appliances, a brand new washer and dryer, an easy walk to Lake Michigan. I moved in a week later, and before long the place started to really feel like my own.

But then I had a problem.

After about a month of peace and quiet, and a building all to myself, my upstairs neighbors moved in.

They looked friendly enough when I awkwardly peeked through the blinds as they unloaded their moving van. I told myself there was no way they could have known that they timed their arrival perfectly for my 3 p.m. bedtime. And that a little stomping up the back steps was to be expected; I mean, really, who moves quietly?

Within a few days, I knew this was going to be trouble. I’d noticed how thin the walls were when I heard the maintenance crews clomping up and down the steps and the mail lady swinging the door open and slamming it shut. Now I learned that the ceiling was just as thin. I could track my new neighbors’ movements by the shifting creaks above my head. And most days, I was treated to my own personal concert echoing through their floors.

I consider myself a relatively patient and understanding person, so I told myself that they were probably using music to pass the time while they unpack. But by the second week of second-hand tunes, I knew it wasn’t going away, and I was starting to get cranky.

For the sake of my sanity, I knew I’d have to find a way to ask them to turn it down. This shouldn’t be a big deal, but I spent another week asking people whether I should leave a note or knock, and if I left a note, what should it say? I’d like to say my problem is that I’m too nice, but that would be too nice. The bottom line is, I hate confrontation. And maybe, I’m afraid people won’t like me. Besides, given that I was dealing with people I’ve never met, there was the whole question mark of whether confrontation would end with slashed tires, or worse–them spitefully turning the music up louder.

So this week, at my wits end, I finally got up the nerve to leave the note. I saturated it with politeness, and hoped it wouldn’t be the worst first impression I’ve ever made.

I wrote, “Hi there, Can you please lower the volume of your stereo? Unfortunately, the walls/floors/ceilings are very thin here and the music carries through other apartments. Thanks so much for understanding.” I taped it on the door, walked down the stairs, considered running back and taking it down, and then just hoped for the best.

That night, when I went to take my dog out, I saw my note taped to the mailboxes. I was afraid to find a big middle finger drawn on it, but when I came back in, I found that it was better than I anticipated:

It seems sometimes politeness can go a long way.

It seems sometimes politeness can go a long way.

Yep, you read that right. “Of course! We’re so sorry! (Emphasis added in my head) Thank you for the note.”

I was mildly shocked too.

The side of me that’s a strong believer in karma wants to think that this is just the Universe rewarding me for my inherent goodness. Ha. More realistically, I have nice neighbors who simply didn’t realize how much their music was bothering me. (Maybe too nice; who thanks a neighbor for a complaining note??)

But I can’t help but think their response might not have been so easygoing if I’d snapped and reacted in anger. It’s just one more reason to treat people around me with kindness and respect. And a small reassurance that, yes, reasonable neighbors do exist.

Sometimes even you don’t know what you want (or need)

16 Thursday Apr 2015

Posted by in Life Lessons, Overthinking Things

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When I was a teenager, I went through a phase for like three years where I adamantly insisted that I hated hot dogs. Growing up in the Chicago suburbs, this was probably frustrating for my family, as hot dogs are kind of a “thing” here–and a staple option for dining out. But as teenagers tend to do, I got a little bratty when that option was ever brought up.

In fact, the smell of a hot dog did make me want to yack a little. But the funny thing is, I couldn’t tell you why one day, out of the blue, this random food became suddenly unappealing to me. I hadn’t had any bad experience with hotdogs, or gotten sick. I just hated them. Then, just as suddenly, I finally ate a frank, and everything was back to normal. Now, I even have moments where I crave them.

Proof that I like hot dogs again--from a trip to Superdawg with my dad.

Proof that I like hot dogs again–from a trip to Superdawg with my dad.

Bear with me while I switch gears for a second.

I’ve worked in television news now for more than five years, and for a time I swore that I would never work on a morning show. You see, in TV, working “mornings” really means working overnight (hey, it takes time to put a show together that starts at 4:30!). And as a girl who’s always valued her sleep, it didn’t seem like a shift that would work for me.

For the past two-and-a-half years, I enjoyed working 1-10 p.m. in Austin, and sleeping in like a college kid home on spring break. And when I was offered a morning show producer job at my current station in Chicago, changing shifts was what intimidated me the most. I asked other morning show friends what to expect, and prepared for a weeks-long adjustment period from hell.

Some days, working overnights make me feel like my dog and I are glued to the couch.

Some days, working overnights make me feel like my dog and I are glued to the couch.

Then a funny thing happened. I found that I was able to fall asleep at 3 in the afternoon a lot easier than I expected–and stay asleep (for the most part) until my 11 p.m. wakeup call. I’ve been coming home with hours ahead of me to use however I want! I’ve got time to cook (I haven’t), to exercise (I’m working on it), or to catch up on so many TV shows (no comment). Sure, the nature of my schedule means I’m getting a little less sleep (Goodbye, 10 hours a night…). But I’ve discovered how much I can do when I have more hours in the day. I came to a painful realization that–gasp!–I actually kind of like my new shift.

Are you starting to make a connection here?

I know claiming to hate hot dogs, when you actually don’t… and claiming to hate working overnight, when you actually don’t… are not exactly the same thing. Except, they kind of are.

The thing is, we human beings are stubborn. And we also sometimes think we know more than we actually do. Put those two things together, and you’ve got a lot of people missing out on a lot of things simply because they think they don’t like them.

Part of the problem is, very few things in life are all good or all bad. Food preferences may not be the best example here. But if you look at making life choices–like whether to take a job with an unusual shift–there’s a balancing act of pros and cons. So yes, there are nights when I wake up at 11 p.m. and wish with every ounce of me I could roll over and sleep until the sun’s out. There are afternoons when I hide under a pillow, trying to be tired, and hate myself for hating the kids laughing and shouting their way home from school. And there are moments when I question whether it is acceptable to eat beef jerky at 3 in the morning. (Answer: Beef jerky is always acceptable.)

Enjoying my new freedom in the daytime hours with a walk to Lake Michigan with my dog, Mack.

Enjoying my new freedom in the daytime hours with a walk to Lake Michigan with my dog, Mack.

But on the flip side, I miss out on rush hour, my weekend starts at 10 a.m. on Fridays, and I have hours of glorious daytime to enjoy when I get home. (Not to mention, it’s a job that’s afforded me a big step up and a move to my hometown.) If I had focused only on the things I thought I would hate about this schedule, I would have never taken the job. Instead, I got much more than an opportunity; by setting aside my expectations and being open minded, I’ve been able to go beyond tolerating my new lifestyle, and actually enjoy it.

Maybe I’ll celebrate with a Chicago dog.

Fill your days with tiny braveries

12 Friday Dec 2014

Posted by in Life Lessons, What Inspires Me

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I’m a child of the 90’s, so back in middle school, when that song “Everybody’s Free (To Wear Sunscreen)” came out, I thought it was the wisest thing I ever heard. I think everybody’s favorite part was when Baz Luhrmann almost-yelled, “Do not read beauty magazines, THEY WILL ONLY MAKE YOU FEEL UGLY.”

One of my favorite lines in the song/poem/essay, that still stands out to me to this day, was, “Do one thing every day that scares you.” As a kid, I didn’t see how that was even possible. As an adult, I once again think it’s some of the best advice I’ve ever heard.

On Monday night, I went to bed filled with nervous anticipation. Tuesday, I had an appointment at the hair salon. I have been growing my hair out for more than two and a half years. At some point, I decided I’d like to donate my hair for a wig for someone with cancer. When my friend and former coworker Loriana was diagnosed with Leukemia earlier this year, I knew that was what I had to do.

My hair fell more than halfway down my back before I chopped it off.

My hair fell more than halfway down my back before I chopped it off.

Until recently, I haven’t had long hair since my freshman year of college. So you can understand, I grew to be pretty attached to it. For the week leading up to my salon appointment, I shared short-hair pictures with my friends and family, and hoped I could go through with my plan.

There was a feeling of “Am I really doing this?” all the way up to the moment my hair stylist, Meghan, chopped off my thick ponytail with her scissors. We decided on doing an angled bob, which I have always wanted to try out. But my stomach wrapped up in knots as I watched her razor off even more inches on the back of my head to make the style happen.

The moment of truth--chopping off my ponytail to give to Pantene Beautiful Lengths for women with cancer.

The moment of truth–chopping off my ponytail to give to Pantene Beautiful Lengths for women with cancer.

After Meghan did her magic, I was relieved to see that I loved the shorter cut. And then there was the added excitement of seeing my ponytails on the counter, and knowing everything was worth it, to help out someone in the toughest time of her life.

It didn’t hurt that I was flooded with compliments on my new style. I posted a before and after photo on my Facebook page, tagging my friend Loriana, and had people I’d never met saying things like, “I don’t know you but you look more beautiful after giving the gift of your hair.” My coworker has been calling me “Gwyneth Paltrow” for days.

The finished product! My new 'do after giving away 10 inches of my hair.

The finished product! My new ‘do after giving away 10 inches of my hair.

So what does this have to do with Baz Luhrmann and the sunscreen song?

Before this week, I had been in a funk. Nothing really new or excited has happened in my life in a while, and I was in a place where I wasn’t looking forward to much.

I wouldn’t say cutting nearly a foot off of my hair scared me, exactly. I know that hair grows back (and luckily, mine grows pretty quickly), and I was really excited for the new purpose that my hair was about to take on. But the drastic change in style certainly jarred me out of my comfort zone. I’m a person who typically does not like major changes in life, but this time, instead of being anxious or sad about losing what was, I felt incredibly energized.

Simply by changing my hairstyle (and using it to give back), I felt more confident, and even more optimistic about the future. And as a person who dreads change, I felt excited about what other changes could come. I was proud of myself for doing something different, and I felt brave. (Perfect timing, after writing about the song “Brave” this week for Music Monday!)

So now I’m challenging you to try to “Do one thing every day that scares you.” It can be as simple as standing up for yourself, instead of letting a mean comment go. (That’s another out-of-the-comfort-zone kind of moment for me.) You can go see that movie your boyfriend or spouse doesn’t want to see, by yourself. How about trying some weird food for the first time? I know I have a few big, bucket-list items that would get my adrenaline going, like skydiving. But I realized this week that it’s important to push myself into uncomfortable territory in smaller ways, more often. I realized it can be life changing.