Name My Non-Profit. No, Really.
Yes, I’m hosting a contest!!
So I’m starting a non-profit organization inspired by my nine nieces and nephews. I’m looking for a nifty name for this side project of mine and am looking for help from creative minds! The winner of the competition will win an Amazon.com Gift Card valued at $100 and lifetime bragging rights valued at PRICELESS.
Criteria:
- Length of name should be short. 2 to 3 words, maybe? Put it this way: I want it to be easy to snag a domain for it and tweet about it.
- Tell me what it’s SUPPOSED to mean. I can sometimes be dense. Depends if I’d been drinking the night before.
- It’d be a bonus if you could include “9″ or “nine”. Since I’ve been inspired by my nieces and nephews, I think this is fitting.
Here’s the story.
My 17-year-old nephew Aaron is the lead vocalist in a band, Facade. Any and all bias aside, the band is AWESOME. Everything about them — the songs they write, the music they play, their musical talent in and of itself — all amazing. Last year, they participated in a Battle of the Bands competition with a dozen or so other bands. Awesome auntie that I am, I was there to root him (and his sa-weet band members) on. As always, they did so well and were clearly one of the audience’s favorites! In the end, not only didn’t they win… they didn’t place. Auntie Gemmerzz was NOT a happy camper.
In speaking with the band members, relatives, fans, and even strangers, it was clear that the winners were not deserving… at least not if the contest were really about talent. Much like American Idol (which I’ve come to love to hate), it was just another popularity contest. One of the bands was a kid band. Cute? Sure. Another was a band of old guys. And by “old guys” I mean late 20s to mid 30s. In comparison to the other competitors, they were old and stuck out like sore thumbs. And the third band that placed had a sob story. Their drummer was in an accident or something just days before the competition and was in a coma. In his honor and in good spirits, the two other guys decided to compete anyway. It truly was a sad, sad story and my heart broke for that kid.
HOWEVER– and please don’t think I’m trying to “diss” these other bands — none of them were musically qualified to win that competition based on the premise of the contest much less in comparison to the other bands there. NONE. I won’t sit here and say that Facade should have won because, at the end of the day, that’s not the part that matters to me. (They should have, though.) I was furious. I later found out that the judges were not musicians nor did they have a musical background. I mean, seriously? After I’d “gotten over it” and moved on to consoling my nephew with the best encouraging words I could find. I was heartbroken for him. I still am.
It brought me back to my own childhood. I was extremely fortunate in that my parents were very supportive of any interest I had. I participated in ballet, tap dance, jazz, hip hop, folk dancing, piano lessons, voice lessons, flute lessons, etc. In the 8th grade, I’d joined an all-girls choir that was going to audition for the broadway musical Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. Despite still being pretty young, I clearly remember that we worked our asses off. I don’t think that many of us really understood what a big deal it was, but we practiced like we did. When the big audition came, we nailed it. NAILED IT. Out of hundreds of choirs that auditioned, they could only select four.
When we found out we’d been selected as one of the four, we were overjoyed and relieved that all our hard work and afterschool hours had paid off. That wasn’t the case for my nephew and his band, but not because other bands worked harder and longer. Trust me, I’d be the first to tell you if the competition was steep and I would’ve given my nephew a pat on the back and said “Just be better next year.” Instead, I told my nephew that I’d be hosting my own Battle of the Bands and would do it the right — no, fair — way.
So… more details on the actual event will follow as soon as I can get this all in motion. For now, I just need your help! Please comment, email, FB, tweet me your ideas and suggestions. Entries will be considered until September 9th, 2010, 11:59pm Pacific. A winner will be announced on September 10th, 2010 to share this milestone with you all on my 30th birthday. Yikes!!
If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to ask. I’ve been “jobbed” so this post has been looming on my BlackBerry to keep me busy on my commute! That said, most parts of this entry have been written at 7am (pre-coffee) or 5pm (post-work).
Multiple contest entries are not only allowed, but they are suggested! Have fun and be creative.
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This post was created via WordPress for BlackBerry and is subject to formatting and corrections at a later time.
Mean Girl?
People often ask me where the idea of me being a ‘mean girl’ came from — usually this is an indicator that the asking person doesn’t know me very well.
No, no… I’m kidding. Sort of.
Ever since I was a child, it was clear that I had a competitive nature. I am a Virgo. According to AOL’s genius astrological experts, Virgos “are known for [their] ability to be highly discriminating — especially when it comes to matters of personal desire”. Virgos also are very critical and “have the uncanny sense to see what’s wrong with a person, a situation or [an] environment”. Virgos are also perfectionists and, as AOL suggests, the Virgo motto could be “Perfect is almost good enough.”
I can still remember specific incidents in my childhood where I was a very “mean girl”, as probably defined by most people.
I was about 5-years-old and I recall sitting in a shopping cart at a grocery store headed down the cereal aisle. There was another little girl in a shopping cart headed in the opposite direction who was wailing at the top of her lungs because her mom wouldn’t buy the cereal she wanted. I thought she was being ridiculous. (Note: My mom NEVER bought me those “sugary” cereals so, to be fair, I didn’t know what I was missing out on.) As our shopping carts passed one another, I stuck my tongue out at her, mouthed the word “BABY”, and motioned like I was rubbing my eyes and crying like she was.
By the time I started school, it only got worse. In the first grade, I had the best teacher ever. (Ms. Smith — I remember her more than any other teacher I’ve had.) She was ill one day and a substitute came that day in her place. I approached her and asked if I could use the bathroom. Now, I have to tell you, I wasn’t a big fan of nor a “favorite” for most other kids, but I was a big hit when it came to adults. I was always very charming and entertaining… basically your typical “teacher’s pet” and goody-two-shoes. (I know, you’re all beginning to hate me because I was THAT kid. If you aren’t feeling this hatred, then you were probably THAT kid, too.) Anyway, I was absolutely shocked when this sick woman told me I couldn’t go to the bathroom. I WAS SIX YEARS OLD!! I asked again. She insisted that I needed to wait until recess. I stood in front of this woman and told her that, if she didn’t let me go to the bathroom, I would pee right in front of her. She didn’t believe me. I showed her.
As time progressed, so did my “mean” nature. Kids can be SO cruel as it is, and I always needed to “one-up” any kid who challenged me. I’m short and am often teased for it. I remember one girl laughing at me in front of other kids, saying “I bet you can’t even reach shelves in your house!!” I, of course, had to come up with something better than that because the kids were laughing at me. What did I say? “At least I have a dad!!!” Yes, I went there — totally unnecessary, I know. Why did I do it? NO CLUE. I just had to take it to the extreme. She cried, told her mom, her mom told my mom, and I got in trouble… big time. I forgot to mention that she was my mom’s best friend’s daughter.
I started my first petition in the third grade. It was a request to have a lady fired at my school’s daycare. I got in big trouble for that one, too.
I could go on and on, really. Just typing this all out, I’m remembering more and more that I’ve done. The turning point to all of this happened in the fourth grade. I was selected to join the Gifted and Talented Education program (G.A.T.E.). My mom didn’t want me to do it and I was not very happy. I still remember why I wanted it SO bad… it was a boy. My elementary school crush was in G.A.T.E. and my mom was getting in the way of my happiness. I convinced her to let me join because “it’d be good for me to challenge my learning”. She agreed but not without explaining to me why she didn’t want me to be involved in the program. She told me, “The more time you spend with people as smart as or smarter than you, the less patience you will have to deal with people who don’t think like you do, who don’t learn as fast as you do, and who just aren’t as intelligent as you.” At the time, I didn’t care… because I got to be with “the boy”.
Fast-forward to years later and my mom’s prophecy became a reality. Well, it had been happening all along, but I didn’t actually see it until I started to work, excel, and move up.
As I began to manage people in the workplace, I realized that I had ZERO patience for stupid people. And by stupid, I don’t really mean stupid. It was those people my mother warned me about. My attitude stood in the way of my success in leading people and becoming a great manager. At the same time, I was taking a class in Developmental Psychology that had opened my eyes in how and why people behaved in certain ways and, more so, how and why I acted the way that I did. This is when I picked up my second major in Psychology.
Luckily, with my early experiences and the knowledge I’ve gained both in school and in the real world, I’ve been able to remedy my “mean” nature. While, by nature, I still consider myself a “mean girl”, I have learned to make it work in my favor instead of against me.
Read MoreReturn of the MEAN GIRL
It’s been a long time since my last post, but EXCUSE ME… I was busy finding myself. Sue me.
It seems so cliché for me to whip out a post dedicated to the new year, but cut me some slack. After all, it’s been 2010 for almost a week now. If it makes you all feel better, I won’t associate this one with the glitz and glory of the new year. I’ll simply chalk it up to a long-awaited (ha!) return of the MEAN GIRL.
2009 was a crazy year. And by crazy, I’d have to say that means that the year involved crazy people. MY life? Not so crazy. Busy? Yes. But not crazy. A struggle? Yes. But not crazy.
In the last few months of 2009, I realized that I was losing myself. I had no idea who the hell I’d become and how I ended up with so much of everyone else’s crap on my shoulders. I think that, in my efforts to stick out a good relationship, I learned that I had a lot of trivial friendships. The people in my life really sucked. For someone with 700+ “real” friends on Facebook, I have a very small number of people who I matter to. Is that wrong? Not entirely. The problem was that the number of people who mattered to me on that same list of Facebook friends was exponentially greater than that number.
2009 was a year of closing doors and letting go. 2010 is all about new beginnings and PROGRESS. I’m wiping my hands clean of the people and things that don’t bring me up… because up is where I want to go.
Things to look out for this year:
[1] – graduation
[2] – a career
[3] – new place
[4] – the big 30
It’s all a big deal to me. And frankly, a year is really not all that long to try to accomplish all of the above. (Though 30 will happen whether or not I’m ready!) There’s no time for drama, no time for setbacks, no time for bad people. No time for bullsh*t.
Join me for the ride or get the hell out of my way! Call me mean. I like it.
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