#Ladyboss

Yesterday I felt like a #Girlboss (or #Ladyboss, if we want to be a bit more flattering).

A few weeks ago I was asked to step in for a presenter at a seminar for an industry group meeting. Did it take a few people saying "no" for them to end up with me? Obviously. I nailed it, though. Not to toot my own horn, but people were engaged, they laughed at my jokes, and I networked like a champ. This isn't why I felt like a #Ladyboss, though. (Is the hashtag getting annoying? Too bad.)

I declared the day a success because I stepped far outside of my comfort zone and did something I felt completely unsuited for.

The Circle

When Mae Holland is hired to work for the Circle, the world’s most powerful internet company, she feels she’s been given the opportunity of a lifetime. The Circle, run out of a sprawling California campus, links users’ personal emails, social media, banking, and purchasing with their universal operating system, resulting in one online identity and a new age of civility and transparency. As Mae tours the open-plan office spaces, the towering glass dining facilities, the cozy dorms for those who spend nights at work, she is thrilled with the company’s modernity and activity. There are parties that last through the night, there are famous musicians playing on the lawn, there are athletic activities and clubs and brunches, and even an aquarium of rare fish retrieved from the Marianas Trench by the CEO. Mae can’t believe her luck, her great fortune to work for the most influential company in America--even as life beyond the campus grows distant, even as a strange encounter with a colleague leaves her shaken, even as her role at the Circle becomes increasingly public. What begins as the captivating story of one woman’s ambition and idealism soon becomes a heart-racing novel of suspense, raising questions about memory, history, privacy, democracy, and the limits of human knowledge. - Goodreads

Transitions

I have not been very consistent with blogging this time around. My first inclination is to say that even though I’m living in a very cool place doing a very cool thing, ‘life is still life’ (my catchphrase, it would seem). Looking back on it, though, there are definitely things I could have blogged about. I could have blogged about the incredible time my friends and I had in Amsterdam - visiting the Van Gogh museum, strolling across canals, hitting a biker (yes, I hit him - he didn’t hit me), visiting the Museum of Prostitution, and the many discussions over a glass (ha!) of wine. I could have blogged about any one of my work placements (mini internships) in various publishing companies - September Publishing, Macmillan, Hachette. I could have blogged about any number of London restaurants, museums, and venues. I could have blogged about London theatre or, lets be real, meeting Kit Harington (still dying). Alas, I didn’t, but here we are.

Modern Art

Several years ago, I was ecstatic to be touring the Palace of Versailles. Despite its connotations of wealth and disparity, it happens to be one of my favourite places on the planet (so far, that is). I remember turning to walk into the Hall of Mirrors and seeing, to my complete dismay, giant anime-style statues filling the Hall. The bubblegum pink and cerulean mocked the gold and silver of the room and the faces of the oversized dolls sneered at the stunning statues around us. Moral of the story, I don’t get modern art.

World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War

"The Zombie War came unthinkably close to eradicating humanity. Max Brooks, driven by the urgency of preserving the acid-etched first-hand experiences of the survivors from those apocalyptic years, traveled across the United States of America and throughout the world, from decimated cities that once teemed with upwards of thirty million souls to the most remote and inhospitable areas of the planet. He recorded the testimony of men, women, and sometimes children who came face-to-face with the living, or at least the undead, hell of that dreadful time. "World War Z" is the result. Never before have we had access to a document that so powerfully conveys the depth of fear and horror, and also the ineradicable spirit of resistance, that gripped human society through the plague years." 

 –(Goodreads)

World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War is unlike any book I’ve read (or in this case, listened to). I can’t say that I’ve been dragged into the zombie fad, and this book isn’t going to change that. This book does not follow the traditional arc of a novel. It truly does mimic a documentary and is nothing like the movie of the same name. If you’re looking for character growth or plot development you are probably going to be disappointed. I repeatedly had to remind myself that I was listening to an audiobook and not an episode of This American Life. It is void of special effects and soundbites, which contributed to the realistic tone. Max Brooks voices the journalist of the same name in the book and an all-star cast of actors deliver each story in the book with all of the human emotion you’d find responding to Ira Glass.

Museum Musings

Last week, along with a friend, I visited an Imperial War Museum in London. There, WWII fighter planes dangle from the ceiling and a jeep is frozen just before it drives off the second floor. We guessed how many uniform-clad school children running about could be jammed into the single-man bomb shelter, and we squinted at paraphernalia and pamphlets. We laughed at the sassy letters evacuated children wrote to their parents, and we commented on clothing styles, many of which we find on streets today. We walked in silence through the holocaust exhibit, which bars anyone under the age of 14, and watched in rapture as Hitler spoke.

A quote from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone stuck out to me as a child, and to this day it comes to mind when I hear Hitler speak. Harry has just received his wand at Ollivander’s when the wandmaker says, “I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter . . . After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things — terrible, yes, but great.”

About a Boy

I've been in London for a bit over two weeks now. I find myself settling in, falling into patterns, and enjoying my new normal. For several months I've been anticipating the panic to set in, realizing the magnitude of what I am doing, and to freak out just a little. It hasn't happened yet, so I'm just going to go with it.

The KU Big Read program has punctuated my first few weeks here. Essentially, Kingston University sent every first year graduate student, staff member, and incoming freshman a copy of About a Boy by Nick Hornby (a KU alumnus). Nearly 12,000 specially printed copies were distributed with lots of social media chatter, pictures on Twitter tagged with #kubigread, and events on campus. One of my lecturers developed KU Big Read (this being the inaugural year) and, as a publishing student, we received lots of information about the program prior to arriving on campus. It was a great, natural conversation starter with my new classmates, and it encouraged me to read a book I may not have picked up otherwise.