May 15, 2013
MIND THE GAP: ALL CHANGE PLEASE.

                            

  I’m following suit with my two other Uprooted ladies in taking to our blog once again, following a rather long silence. Mine has been entirely appropriate in a way for the theme of this blog, given that my absence has been down to feeling uprooted myself.

I’ve been back doing reshoots for the film I was on last year, which have been like two mini school reunions, with a crew of people unexpectedly back together once again. Given that we were a happy crew, it’s been a really fun experience, and I’ve enjoyed part two of the job almost more than the original shoot- helped by the fact it’s now spring and we can all get up at 5am in the light. As usual, even though we’re working, everyone’s mind is on what’s next. What have you been on? What are you going on to? Reassuringly, many people I spoke to have been in a similar position to me and aren’t sure what their next move is. I’ve been in kind of limbo for the last few months going through an interview process for a job I would have loved to get. On my final day of work yesterday I found out I hadn’t made the final cut. I was gutted, but begin quickly to realize that the feelings of powerlessness I’d been experiencing were easing. The decision had been made for me and I felt freed. 

Yesterday ended up being a bombshell of a day and one I could never have anticipated waking up that morning. On my way down to the station, I walked within a foot of my ex-boyfriend who I haven’t seen in three years. He was my first love, the first man I lived with, and the relationship ended being a very destructive one that has taken the best part of the time since to recover from. I’ve always imagined what it would be like to bump into him, but nothing could have prepared me for the reality of what it would actually be like. Firstly I saw him in an entirely unexpected environment- my own turf. He was also with another woman. We walked passed each other like strangers, him up the hill towards the flat we used to share. I walked round the corner and stood dumbstruck and in shock for fifteen minutes, missing my train for work. So many thoughts went through my head. The most predominant one being- what the hell are the chances of that happening in a city as busy and large as London? What if I’d left the house ten minutes early when I should have? We could have been too small dots narrowly missing each other, with both being none the wiser. I personally don’t believe in fate or serendipity, but it was hard not to in that moment. I’d just experienced the thing I’d feared most for three years and it sent me into a tailspin.

            I made the decision to ask to see him. Risky? Yes, given how poorly our post-break up attempts have gone in the past. I know that neither of us really got closure after our time together, and it’s something I’ve regretted. Cue 5.30pm as I walk to meet him. The experience was a surreal one. I was nervous, but I was also confident I could get what I felt I’d been missing. If you cut someone out of your life, I think it’s very easy when you think about him or her, to still think of yourself how you were then. I sat opposite the man I thought I’d wanted to marry and have children with and realized how much we’ve both changed and grown up/grown apart. I thought an hour wouldn’t be enough time to say all the things we had to, but in reality, there wasn’t a whole lot to be said, which did seem strange given how close we once were. I got the apology I’ve always needed, and he got forgiveness. We hugged goodbye and went in opposite directions. I feel like a weight has been lifted off my conscience and that I’d finally let go of the past that has haunted me in my life and my subsequent relationships.

            All change. What’s next? 

Yours, frankly,

Olivia

10:41am  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZJHN4vl1vBFw
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Filed under: ex boyfriend jobs jobsearch serendipity search for happiness release freedom reunion 
May 8, 2013
The Little Things

In the working world everything begins to feel like a routine. You pull yourself out of bed to go to work and slowly count down the hours and days until the weekend. This week I’ve really realized it’s the little things that make the day-to-day routine so much better. First of all, the sun has finally decided to make an appearance in New York City (besides the flash floods of this morning), which has significantly increased my spirits. Then there’s homemade chocolate chip cookies, the Yogurtland that opened an avenue from my apartment, an awesome postcard from Berlin from my dear friend Mary & partaking in inspiring and motivational conversations with friends and colleagues.

I’m closing in on my one year anniversary of living in New York and I must say the stress of the city is definitely getting to me. Exhibit A, my eye which has been twitching for over two weeks straight. And what did the optometrist say? “Relax, you’re just stressed.” But how can I relax when everyone around me in this city is thriving and succeeding and rushing past me, figuratively and literally. Well, let’s just say I’m doing my best to relax, which is quite difficult for me, and to enjoy the little things.

-Miraya Berke

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Filed under: yogurtland the little things berlin postcard relax stress new york nyc 
May 6, 2013
Re-evaluating my gameplan-less wonder: The Quarter Life Crisis

Let’s be real, I’ve been talking about quarter life crises since I was 16.  I clearly didn’t believe I had a long shelf life going for me then, but as I’ve recently settled into the strange thing they call my early twenties, I suppose “quarter” is finally almost appropriate.  I have lately found that I have some trouble staying present, resulting in a quarter life crisis or two every few months.

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One of my best and most brilliant friends from college got into a program in NYC and part of me wants to sign on and start school in the fall with her just to fulfill our life plan to live out there at the same time.  It makes me a little anxious (read: VERY anxious) thinking about the fact that I can’t defer my offer again. If I pass on it again this year—I’m pretty sure I’m actually passing on it— as in saying I don’t want it — and prolonging the gameplan-less wonder.

Don’t get things twisted.  I’m grateful for where I am right now.  I live in a great city where family is only an hour flight away.  I have a full time job with benefits—I get to work part-time for an NGO I really care about,  work on my research project, and make music in the spare time.  I’m generally quite happy and completely self sufficient of mom and dad.  However, I don’t quite feel like I’ve made it and am instead, rendered an eternal work in progress.

Now ordinarily, that would be okay, but progressing towards what exactly?  I’m almost a year out of graduation and I haven’t made the decisions I thought I would’ve yet.  This time last year I thought I would’ve had a solid verdict on grad school and that I’d have a clearer picture of how I want to translate my life theories into praxis.  I haven’t and I don’t, and I’m actually more confused than ever.

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My current goals are nebulous and frankly, right now I feel over-interested, excited by too many things, and a little bit wayward.  So I suppose the biggest indication that I’m not ready to go back to school is that I don’t feel all-in and ready to commit.  But who ever really does?  Not a rhetorical question, I’d like to grab coffee with you.

Just putting it out there.

-Elaine

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3:16am  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZJHN4vkLx2EV
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Filed under: grad school confused nyc sf choices quarter life crisis Elaine 
April 6, 2013
claire-lee: Lombard Street, San Francisco Great shot.  Lovely place.

claire-lee:

Lombard Street, San Francisco

Great shot.  Lovely place.

12:03pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZJHN4vi2GgcJ
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March 31, 2013
Moderation For A Foodie

Pizza at Roberta’s. Peanut butter and jelly donut from Donut Plant. Scones and sandwiches from Alice’s Tea Cup. Frozen yogurt, macarons, sushi, chinese food and the list goes on and on…and that’s just this week.

Needless to say, New York isn’t the city for moderation. This is the city of work hard, play hard. The city to work late during the week so you can go into extreme gluttony mode during the weekend. The foodie that I am, it’s hard to say no when there’s a grilled cheese festival or new cupcake shop to try. New York does not understand moderation nor dieting. While there are juice cleanse shops, yoga studios and stick models all around, I’ll be inspired for a week or two to go to the gym and eat salads, that is until I sink my teeth into a decadent chocolate chip cookie and think, screw moderation.

However, the rain and gloom may not represent the greatest spring ahead, but spring is here and that means soon enough it will be summer and skirt and dress weather. In preparation means the yoga mat and running shoes will be working overload and the sweets and treats will be on pause. Farewell macarons…well, at least hello moderation.

-Miraya Berke

10:25pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZJHN4vhcKytG
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March 24, 2013
Spring? Are you there?

London is currently an ice-box, with the odds of a white Easter, far greater than a white Christmas. And when I say cold, I mean in the minuses, can’t feel your toes, miserable soggy cold. It feels as if this winter has lasted a lifetime, and it’s hard right now to imagine it ever breaking. OK fine I may be being a tad dramatic, but a white Easter? I’m whinging, but this has played out to my advantage somewhat. I’ve got a hereditary issue with my hearing (that now makes it slightly more poignant that my bully name at little school was Dumbo) that’s required me to have an operation. Last Monday, I had my first general anaesthetic. The night before I asked my father (at the cool age of 24), “I’m not going to die tomorrow, right?” If I’m dramatic about the weather, then I was certainly going to go hell for leather on this subject.

I have a tendency to laugh in awkward/tragic situations. Tell me your grandpa has died and I will probably have to turn around to suppress a giggle. It therefore seemed completely natural to laugh my way all the way down the lift to the operating room. The poor polish nurse accompanying me thought I was a lunatic. After a prick, a surprisingly painful sensation of the anaesthetic moving up my arm, I was out. Three hours later I woke up faced by my anxious parents. All I could focus on was the chocolate biscuit on the tray in front of me. One of the most common side effects of my operation is a temporary loss of taste. As a massive foodie, this was much more traumatic a thought than full blown tinnitus. That might just have been the best chocolate biscuit I’ll ever eat. Hell yes I could taste, and wahey was I feeling loopy. What had I been worried about? Being knocked out for three hours being wheeled from one bed to another to a chocolate biscuit? I was living the dream.

 I’ve spent the last week tucked up in bed at my parents house, which has been incredibly comforting. My old room, although renovated, boasts the comfiest bed on the planet, which my friend Zoe has aptly named, the bed of clouds. I finally got round to watching The Killing, (the Danish version). All I can say is thank god I’ve had the excuse of bed rest, because otherwise I would have done the exact same thing but suffered social judgement. If you haven’t watched it, WATCH IT (just make sure to cancel all other plans- seriously, all.) I’ve been visited by lovely friends, who’ve brought me copious amounts of ice cream. I’m thrilled that the operation was a success (yay- I haven’t gone deaf!).  This date has been in the diary a while. I’m not allowed to work for a few weeks, but my brain’s ticking away wondering, what’s next? This time a year ago, I was so excited to graduate. It’s scary to think just under twelve months have gone by, but so much has changed, and I’ve learnt so much. I just need to get back in the employment game…tick tock (but hey baby, now I can hear the clock). 

Yours,

Olivia

8:41pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZJHN4vh2Lw2m
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March 24, 2013
The Honeymoon Phase

A little over a month ago, I began to passively job hunt and attempted to wait out some gnawing feelings of life-purpose related discontent.  Ultimately, the stars misaligned bad enough work/life-wise to show me that even if I was successful and doing well, no amount of waiting was going to sort it all out if I didn’t want to grow there.  By the same celestial mojo, a job listing for a company I began following back in September started popping up in my Facebook sidebar, a refreshing change from the AT&T discounts or UCSF ads asking me to donate my “top-tier university eggs.”  A cover letter, resume, and writing sample later, I definitively decided to quit my first salaried full-time job back here in the states.

Miraya was right on the money.  Jobs are relationships.  Applying to a new position while I was fully employed and still working for SIC felt like what I imagine cheating to feel like—more so did sneaking out to interviews under the guise of doctors appointments and aunts in need of pick-up from the airport (I did also have a doctor’s appointment but had no such aunt, and no car to retrieve her).   Quitting was like breaking up with someone: awkward, and uncomfortable, with some generous euphemisms and futile bargaining, ultimately ending in the sad/happy truth of “I’ve found someone new who really just has more to offer me right now.”

“Two weeks notice” didn’t exist at my last firm, so with that I was unemployed—for a total of three days before I started my newest gig at a pretty delightful early-stage VC fund and innovation lab.  I don’t mean to gush, but I like where I’ve landed.  My job has me interacting with passionate creatives every day and I’m excited when I talk to them and learn how they are taking their concerns and making actionable and scalable plans from their ideas.  The energy is good and the culture at my office makes me do a double-take everyday.  

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So if jobs are relationships, I’m clearly in the honeymoon phase.  I’ve been here just a month now, but I see a future here and I want to stick around for a while.  It’s a role where I feel myself getting scrappier by the minute; and it’s a place where I see myself growing into something, whether it be my position, the organization, a focus, or a passion—maybe and hopefully all of the aforementioned.    

Plus they’ve serviced my love of Post-it’s and reusable water bottles.  Some people just walk in the light.

Best,

Elaine

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8:13am  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZJHN4vg__mBa
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Filed under: job hunt job venture capital start up accelerator innovation lab quitting company culture relationships 
March 14, 2013
To Rome With Love

Phrasebook in one hand, and best friend Daisy in the other, we arrived in Rome on a Monday afternoon to full sunshine. We got our hotel (great on paper, a building site in person) and heard the words we all dread. “Senora, there has been a problem with your booking.”

In hindsight it turned out to be a blessing. We ended up in a hotel right near the spanish steps. The big hill that freaked me out in the cab on the way also turned out to be a life saver after ten ice creams and five bowls of pasta a day.

A quick change and we headed to Piazza Navona for prosecco, wine and a pizza to share. A casual few hours later we had dinner opposite the Pantheon. No doubt we paid a hell of a lot more for our meal here, but I had one of the best plates of pasta I’ve ever eaten, and the situation couldn’t have been more romantic or stunning. 

The following day was a walkathon, as we went all round the churches and Spanish Steps. My eyes nearly fell out at the architecture of the Pantheon- Just how they built it, to quote Daisy’s word of the trip, is “UN-BELIEVABLE”. 

The highlight of the whole trip, to satisfy my incredible geekdom, was a visit to the Shelley, Keats museum. The library has an incredible view of the Spanish Steps. You leave behind the hustle and bustle of the tourist groups and move into the peaceful calm apartment where Keats resided until his premature death aged 25. Standing in the room where he died, I felt surprisingly emotional. There’s something about the atmosphere of the house that feels preserved and unspoiled. In one of the display cabinets, there’s locks of hair given as gifts from Keats, Shelley and Trelawney. It was such a simple gesture and one that made me nostalgic for that time.

On our final day we hit up the coliseum, the ruins and the Vatican (pre the appointment of the new pope). We got soaked in the rain, and ate a beautiful homecooked Italian meal at Daisy’s grandfather’s. We were overwhelmed by the architecture, the beauty on every single street. 

I’m already longing to go back…Please. Take me back. 

Yours,

 

Olivia

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March 3, 2013
Jobs Are Like Long-Term Relationships

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So I’ve never been the best at long-term relationships. I’ve really only been in two real relationships, the longest of which was 9 months with a few additional months of undefined togetherness. I’m now realizing my same antsy feeling of being with a guy for too long can be applied towards jobs. Pre “real-world” I had one part time job and a few summer internships, each about 2-3 months. My first job out of college lasted a whopping 4 months. Now at my current job I’m at 4 and 1/2 months, a record for me.

And funny enough, although it hasn’t even been 5 month, I’m already at the phase where I’m getting a bit uneasy and ready for something new. Instead of learning the ropes, meeting new people and discovering new things every day, I’m more in the day to day grind. Sure, at a start up I’m always learning something new but what I’ve realized at start ups is that the day to day grind is that there constantly is something new and we’re always trying a new system or technique to see if it works and honestly, I’m bored of that. 

Normally at this point in a relationship I’d be done. I’m not getting exactly what I want so I’d say what’s the point and cut the strings. I’ve always believed I’m too young to feel stuck somewhere. Unfortunately my resume wouldn’t look so fabulous with a string of 4 month jobs, so I’m in it for the long haul (or at least a year). I’m a positive proactive person so I’ve been doing a lot of thinking to figure out what I like about my current job situation and what I’m not so thrilled about.

The biggest missing factor from my job is the lack of company culture. While everyone there is in their mid-20s and totally awesome, we’re missing an outlet to express ourselves and have fun. When I think of cool startups I picture Google and Facebook with game rooms, snack fridges and silly sock days and I envy them. So the event planner/entrepreneur that I am thought, why can’t I help create this company culture at my office? This is what I’m planning to do. The sorority girl in me organized a “Culture Club” with other interested employees to host fun (and free) activities at the office and after work. I’m currently creating the March Social Calendar.

This all might sound silly and like sorority fluff, but I feel like by planning a few fun activities a month I will be more excited to come to work and will make a difference by giving others that same excitement. Company culture matters immensely in branding a business and recruiting/keeping quality talent. Just like long-term relationships, jobs have ups and downs. I’m currently in a down slump but instead of throwing in the towel as I’ve done in the past with relationships, I’m being mature and putting on my problem solving cap to come up with a solution that’s beneficial for all parties involved. And that solution is to do what I do best - plan events and activities (Exhibit A: The 20s Club) and bring people together to have some fun!

-Miraya Berke

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11:43pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZJHN4vfTe4Ze
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Filed under: The 20s Club Company Culture Event Planning Long Term Relationships Jobs 
March 2, 2013
My Big Idea (as featured on Harpers Bazaar UK online)

24-year-old Olivia Grant used to regard feminism as a dirty word. That was until she found misogyny and sexism are alive and kicking, and got her consciousness well and truly raised…

Up until I was 19, I thought that feminists were all hairy, butch man-haters. There, I said it. The last thing I associated it with was simple equality.

Then I found myself single after a whirlwind engagement and verbally abusive relationship with my first love. In an attempt to try and regain a sense of self, I ventured Stateside, to begin a year abroad at UC Berkeley. There, I enrolled in my first gender class.

The night before, I lay awake, mind buzzing. Was it acceptable to wear make-up to a class on gender? A dress? Would there be any men there? Would there be any straight people? Why did it even matter? I turned up (the only British student) in the Cal uniform - Berkeley sweatshirt, shorts, flip flops, my long hair pulled back and wearing virtually no make-up. All in all: neutral. The class was anything but. The first girl I met, Tracy, had a beard and breasts. Mark was wearing a blue dress and liked men. Anne was paralysed from her neck down. They’d been called freaks. They were the judged, and yet they were also the most open, fair group of people I’ve ever met.

After unofficially switching my major and taking as many gender classes as I could, I became a passionate feminist. I also made the decision to join a sorority, an institution some would argue is the polar opposite to feminism. This was not the case in my experience.

Living with 200 other bright young women in such a liberal community as the Bay Area was fantastic. They were ambitious, motivated, and most importantly supportive. Some friends from my gender class couldn’t understand my decision to become part of the “Greek community” as it’s known in the Sates. Sororities are known for choosing people partly on the way they look and are not renowned for their politically correct views. Could I still be a feminist and wear a short skirt to a frat party?

Returning from Berkeley to Norwich was a major culture shock. Where in America my gender classes had at least 40 students enrolled, here they had five - so few, in fact, the class nearly got cancelled.

While in the American political arena, a woman’s reproductive rights are being contested all over again, in Britain we tend to assume that women are finally having it all.

Yet I and my other four classmates were shocked to discover that our female lecturers were getting paid substantially less than their male counterparts. And we were told that no female faculty members were invited to a Humanities dinner held by our Chancellor. When they banded together and went anyway, he refused to shake any of their hands. Had this been done on the grounds of race, class or sexuality, there would have been uproar. In 2012, these professors were not invited because they were women.

So why has feminism become a dirty word in our culture? Maybe we need a new way to talk about striving for sex equality. But the first step is to not be ashamed of pushing for our rights, and most importantly, to make the F-word positive and open; to stop judging each other and putting “women’s rights” into an angry little pigeonhole no-one ever empties.

Perhaps it’s too strong to say that we’re betraying the legacy of women before us, but we’re certainly in danger of letting the cobwebs settle. At 24, I’ve graduated, I’m employed, and I’m on the pill thanks to the actions of women before me. So, come on girls, let’s pick up the ball and play. What’s next?

 

Yours,

Olivia

2:07pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZJHN4vfLm6rg
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