Many times when a small business becomes large, I’ve noticed that they pride themselves on remaining not only close knit, but quirky and somewhat unorganized. I can see the appeal. After all, who would pick Walmart over a funky little shop with some sort of punny name? Or Outback over their favorite little hole in the wall café? Who? …me. I love big businesses. I love the knowledge that what I’m getting is the industry standard for that item; if I drive to the next store, they’ll have basically the same thing. Standing out for the sake of standing out bothers me. If your store is meant to be unique, it will happen. Forcing creativity and uniqueness cheapens it. If your “creative” and “laidback” organizational system gets in the way of progress, you should change it, even if it means [gasp!] doing what others are doing. Sometimes something is considered the norm because it works. It works well. A store that sells nails is still a store that sells nails, whether it’s called “Nail Store” or “Naily Daily!”, whether it’s logo is (surprise) a nail, or some cute ironic cartoon of a nail. And at the end of the day, which one is going to do well? Who knows. Maybe it’ll be Naily Daily due to their fabulous customer service. Or maybe it’ll be Nail Store because people just want to buy nails without dealing with awkwardly adorable cashiers making jokes about nails in order to provide a unique experience. I’m not knocking on innovation in presentation. I am aware that people demand a business to have an image now, it's how the world is changing. I’m just saying that "down to earth" doesn't have to mean "unorganized". Be classy. Don’t let your style get in your way; it's meant to work FOR you, not against you. Be conscious of the expectations of people and how your product/company/image stands in relation to it.
This lady proudly proclaims she is the only person in the world who knits conceptual pieces on an extreme miniature scale. I believe her. She, no matter what you feel about it, is a professional. She is the best at what she does, an expert in her field. She is also extremely fulfilled. She loves her job, and working in miniature has been her passion since she was young. Many "traditional" business types might scoff at her. They may say, "Professional? More like quack! The financial reports I proofread have much more of an impact on the world! My work gets things done". I would say "Hmm, not true. Her work is a fundamental element of one of my, and many others', favorite movies! That movie in turn inspired the aforementioned and me, and we then used that inspiration to do many things in all fields. Your red penned financial report spelling checks passed under your boss' eyes, then situated themselves firmly into a filing cabinet, never to be seen again, except in cases of audits...if you're lucky. You are BOTH professionals!"
ETA: Accounting is Very Important. I take an Accounting class. But the balance sheets only as important as the thing it's supporting.
CASE #2
After this video you might dismiss this man as some crazy kid pulling a stunt. This man, in addition to being my brother's role model, is a professional. More specifically, he is a professional CHAMPION. Takeru Kobayashi is ranked as the 3rd competitive eater in the world, and held the record for hot dog eating for 6 years. He has broken many records. You can read all about it on Google or something. "Ha!" Financial Proofreader man screeches victoriously. "His work is much less important than mine! Who needs competitive eaters?" "Hm, Takeru Kobayashi has a Wikipedia page. You don't. So Wikipedia needs competitive eaters. Also, my brother views Kobayashi as a role model. Kobayashi is notoriously fit and dedicated to his chosen mission. He works out constantly, and trains for hours. My brother saw something he liked, and uses him as inspiration for bodybuilding. Also, they both like to eat. Kobayashi's determination, dedication, and hard work are all much sought after traits in the business word. You are BOTH professionals!"
ETA: This is my competitive eating role model: (Please do not inquire further as to why my brother and I are so into large amounts of food, we both possess extremely healthy appetites, and food is tasty).
Isn't she amazing?! Gal Sone really loves eating. She is a good example of loving your job. Enough to eat 20lbs of noodles.
CASE #3
Stephen Colbert, folks. What I love: Stephen Colbert loves his job so much, he never steps down for one second from his "Colberrrrr" persona. "Stephen Colbert is just doing what many have done before him. Comedian news reporters are nothing new!" Yes, but your kids don't care about older comedians. And kids are more tuned into politics because Colbert has made them relevant and entertaining. When they don't get a joke, you know what they do? They look it up. And also, he's hilarious without being gross and/or profane. He stays in character to a fault. Dedication, creativity, and hard work. So that is why he is a professional. The suit doesn't hurt, either.
Next, I'm gathering materials for a PEOPLE WHO DON'T LOVE THEIR JOBS post.
WARNING: this is a long, boring post about me me me whine whine. This is not how my thought process manifests itself normally.
This is how it manifests itself after my brain has been halfway uprooted.
Orbiting the Giant Hairball has rudely pulled so many switches in my brain that I can’t even communicate to my roommates in Earth speak right now. Let’s start with a story. Once upon a time, when I was around 12, I think I probably reached Nirvana. I was in the back of my dad’s Sebring Convertible and I waved to a little kid, even though I’m not a kid person. So I achieved Nirvana suddenly. I felt the whole world go away, and I lived in the wind bubble at 60 mph. We stopped at Kmart. I said with a smile to Dad, “Hey…I think I just reached Nirvana”. My mom seemed oddly accepting. For some reason, though, this threw my Dad into an uncharacteristic fury (He is not unstable or prone to unreasonable anger, by the way). He was vehemently against the claim, saying how there was no way I could reach Nirvana, giving the totally bizarre reason that I’m “Only 12 years old! How is a 12 year old going to reach Nirvana?!” He was livid. My mom on the other hand took this as a challenge. She faced off with him, saying, “If she says she’s reached Nirvana then MAYBE SHE DID!” I just blissed out, until later I thought about what my dad had said. He seemed to always be right so…I hadn’t reached Nirvana. After all, I was just 12 years old. It was ridiculous. It wasn’t until later I thought about what my mom and dad fighting really seemed like. The ultimate rebel, outsider, and all around outlier, Mom, defying authority: angles, the epitome of a white-collar worker, Dad, champion of logic and words. So at the age of 12, I learned that apparently 12 year olds can’t reach Nirvana, but my mom would be accepting of whatever…weird cosmic experiences I would get bestowed upon me. Including Nirvana.
So I read the first 56 pages. I am now sitting, reading my closet doors that are covered in pink pieces of paper. Those pieces in turn are covered in frantic scribbles: my brain overflowing through my favored black Crayola marker. I’m not sure what my brain is trying to say- if it’s agreeing with the book or fervently arguing with it. I’m going to settle for it being overly stimulated. I was on an Elliptical machine while I was reading it, so I couldn’t even jot down my thoughts, just raise the level on the machine to “Nuclear”. I think the reason I feel so messed up is because…I’m not even sure I’m in the orbit of a hairball. I’ve tried to be in a hairball for so long. I once even lost a hold of feeling emotion so I could be in a hairball. Being in hairballs is not a talent of mine. It’s one of the couple things I utterly fail at. It’s the reason jobs elude me, why I can’t say anyone 100% understands me, and why I constantly “float”- float between people, some of who aren’t even there. I am, for better or worse, a 4th dimensional person. It’s a Korean phrase (as far as I know) for someone who has 4 sides, and doesn’t seem to be…”right”. A popular break down of the 4 types can be: Bright and Normal Bright and Strange Dark and Normal Dark and Strange
A 4 dimensional person displays all of these or none of these simultaneously. Another common trait is that “words drop out of the sky” to them. This can have several meanings. They might be seen talking to themselves (there is a distinction from crazy, because, at least in my opinion, they aren't talking to themselves. They're talking to whatever is listening, as opposed to crazy people who are talking to their hand or something). They might be artists or poets with an extremely strange, prolific personal aesthetic. Communication with everything and nothing. I don’t know about other 4th dimensional people, but for me, it’s ensured that I can never converse with someone with my entire mind. I’m either analyzing their brain or missing out on everything, coming away from the conversation with entire messages totally unnoticed. Just because I'm lazy. It also ensures that I totally fail at fitting in. I think part of the reason this book has me so freaked out because it's on the verge of invalidating my existence. So far, I'm almost labeled as a gray fuzzy nothing on the chart. As a bubble person, I float within hairballs and orbits. I go to art school. To study business. I always claim I'm anti-Fine Art, yet…I paint more than most art students do. I’m not an artist by my own definition, but then what would you think when you see my piles of sketchbooks, constant doodles, works in progress? It makes no sense. I love thinking business, and I love the privacy it gives me to do my own projects. I have never been as unhappy as I was in the Fine Art environment. Ironically, it stifled my creativity. I wasn’t allowed to do anything the way I wanted, because it wasn’t “artistic” enough, whatever that meant. As a Business major, I have more freedom in my art than I’ve ever had. I can draw what I want, when I want, how I want, and it’ll still be ok because I’m not supposed to be able to draw. I’m in my own little orbit, I think, floating in my daydreams and scribbles, and ambition. I can raise my hand proudly when someone asks if I’m an artist, because no one expects me to. There isn’t a place for me in the world yet, so I want to make my own place, which is why I’m going to be an entrepreneur. I want to live in the world and show them the 4th dimension through my designs and products. I’m not sure if I’m incredibly stupid or a genius, if I can break through my anti communication frequency and forcefully attach it to everyone else’s frequency, but I’m going to find out. Even if I fail horribly, I can always float back up for some R&R.
With all these opportunities to meet influential and extremely successful people, adults around me are constantly telling me to network and work on starting “professional relationships”. They tell me to shake hands, state my name, get an in. When I hear this though…I have a few prominent thoughts.
a) What on Earth will that accomplish? b) It would be good to tell me, oh wise one, what exactly you do after saying your name. Just stand there and smile? My smile IS dazzling, but it’s not THAT dazzling. c) This feels bad. This feels too close to brown nosing. If I’m not doing it for my own personal interest, and feeling genuinely excited, it feels empty and power hungry.
Yet as an aspiring entrepreneur, I’m constantly getting the same advice. I understand that getting my name out there is good. It’s a good thing. But at the same time…I’m 19 years old. I live in a dorm. My main projects lately are digital paintings and deciding whether or not the rice crackers will last until budget refresh day. Yes, I do make up business plans in my notebooks, and I have one hell of a master plan going on deep in the laboratories but…right now, I feel like all I have to share with people is a little silly. I’m super excited about my plans and goals, but it seems petty to take up someone’s time with intangible rambles, especially when that someone has accomplished more than I have in my entire life. I know conceptualizing is valuable, and it’ll transmit the right message to the people who need to hear it, when they need to hear it, but…I have nothing to interest them yet. I have done the business equivalent of doodling, and I’m trying to show Rembrandts and DaVincis my little crayon drawings. I don’t look the part, and I feel like I haven’t earned the excited gushing about entrepreneurship because, duh, I haven’t done anything yet. And my hardboiled office experience amounts to, uh, going on one month of office assistant-ness? I guess what I’m trying to say is I wish I could win the lottery so I could have my own little shop thing. Then I could be the one making people nervous with the slightest facial tic. ...I just invalidated my entire point. Awesome!
