I have moved my blog to here:
www.RachelMazza.Blogspot.com
Friday, March 20, 2009
Thursday, March 19, 2009
The Go-Giver
I haven't been blogging recently, not because I don't love you, but because I'm thinking of refocusing my blog. Or having multiple blogs. I'm not sure.
Anywhoo, I've just finished re-reading "The Go-Giver" by Bob Burg and John David Mann.
The subtitles reads: "A Little Story About a Powerful Business Idea."
The truth is, though, that this book applies to so much more than business. The book is an instructional manual on how to make your life a complete success. And it is written in the most effective teaching style known to man: as a story.
"The Go-Giver" follows a smart and ambitious young man named Joe who is a real go-getter. Joe has reached a point in his life where he feels that the harder and faster he works, the less successful he feels.
When Joe is introduced to a deceptively successful business-man known only as "Pindar", his strategy on living life is turned upside-down. Joe cannot believe the things that Pindar tells him are true, until he puts them into practice, and is catapulted beyond his wildest dreams of what is possible.
There is absolutely no reason why everyone shouldn't read this book. It's a short, easy read with a life changing impact.
"Most people laugh when they hear that the secret to success is giving. Then again, most people are nowhere near as successful as they wish they were."
Anywhoo, I've just finished re-reading "The Go-Giver" by Bob Burg and John David Mann.
The subtitles reads: "A Little Story About a Powerful Business Idea."
The truth is, though, that this book applies to so much more than business. The book is an instructional manual on how to make your life a complete success. And it is written in the most effective teaching style known to man: as a story.
"The Go-Giver" follows a smart and ambitious young man named Joe who is a real go-getter. Joe has reached a point in his life where he feels that the harder and faster he works, the less successful he feels.
When Joe is introduced to a deceptively successful business-man known only as "Pindar", his strategy on living life is turned upside-down. Joe cannot believe the things that Pindar tells him are true, until he puts them into practice, and is catapulted beyond his wildest dreams of what is possible.
There is absolutely no reason why everyone shouldn't read this book. It's a short, easy read with a life changing impact.
"Most people laugh when they hear that the secret to success is giving. Then again, most people are nowhere near as successful as they wish they were."
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Depressants for the annoyingly cheerful.
I have been told that I have a problem with my obnoxiously positive outlook.
Maybe I need this........
Maybe I need this........
Monday, March 9, 2009
Wanderlust: Not all who wander are lost.
There is a quiet culture in our midst that often goes unnoticed. The members of this subculture often slip through the cracks of everyday focus due to the limited exposure they have on the individuals they meet.
These are the 21st century nomads.
They are the people who often wander alone, sometimes journey in pairs, and occasionally crusade in groups. They are those who spend the last days of their current trip looking for survivable transportation to the next destination.
These people experience an involuntary displacement if they stay in one place too long.
Saying that they have the travel bug is akin to serving white zinfandel at a prestigious French wine conference.
Their wanderlust is not a lifestyle choice. It is embedded within.
Everyone has a bit of it in them --- do we not create more versatile technology every day to help us perform our daily activities on the go? (See Article: Blackberry/PDA)
There's a popular saying among the nomads of our time; "Not all who wander are lost."
I have found this to be true more often than not; a belief that is only reinforced in my encounters with these millennium pilgrims.
In fact, I would argue that the ones who are the most lost are those that have this insatiable itch to voyage, yet do not wander.
These cast-aways are cemented to their current longitude-latitude for various reasons. Perhaps an unpaid debt (read: student loans), or a significant other (please don't take this the wrong way -- you know who you are), or some skewed loyalty to the false pretense of a "secure job with good benefits" -- whatever the case may be, these misplaced travelers fight to establish themselves, yet are bewildered when they become distraught by their current situation.
I believe I am one of these global commuters who are merely -- stuck. I've been very pointedly trying to change this. Working two jobs, spending lightly (minus libation of course), telling my landlord I will not be renewing my lease at the end of the year, budgeting twice the required payment of my student loan -- the vagabond spirit calls.
For example, I've never tried foie gras. There are some exceptional restaurants in Chicago that serve foie gras. In fact, Chicago chefs stood as some of the tallest warriors in the rebellion when foie gras was banned.
The problem is, I don't want to try foie gras in Chicago! I want to try foie gras in France!
Of course, I will always have a home in Chicago. I love Chicago. This is my city. A city smack-dab in the middle of the country, yet there's nothing 'middle' about it. The city that emanates culture, character, beauty and a blatant disregard for the rules.
Maybe I have "grass is greener" syndrome. Someday I'll settle down --- maybe.
Yet still the lonely planet cries for a new companion -- someone to see all its wonders, and secrets, and even its ugly faces. So I continue my exploration for the perfect opportunity that will allow me to gain the financial freedom and the flexibility to join the modern nomads.
"All that is gold does not glitter,
not all those who wander are lost;
the old that is strong does not wither,
deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
a light from the shadows shall spring;
renewed shall be blade that was broken,
the crownless again shall be king."
~J.R.R. Tolkien
These are the 21st century nomads.
They are the people who often wander alone, sometimes journey in pairs, and occasionally crusade in groups. They are those who spend the last days of their current trip looking for survivable transportation to the next destination.
These people experience an involuntary displacement if they stay in one place too long.
Saying that they have the travel bug is akin to serving white zinfandel at a prestigious French wine conference.
Their wanderlust is not a lifestyle choice. It is embedded within.
Everyone has a bit of it in them --- do we not create more versatile technology every day to help us perform our daily activities on the go? (See Article: Blackberry/PDA)
There's a popular saying among the nomads of our time; "Not all who wander are lost."
I have found this to be true more often than not; a belief that is only reinforced in my encounters with these millennium pilgrims.
In fact, I would argue that the ones who are the most lost are those that have this insatiable itch to voyage, yet do not wander.
These cast-aways are cemented to their current longitude-latitude for various reasons. Perhaps an unpaid debt (read: student loans), or a significant other (please don't take this the wrong way -- you know who you are), or some skewed loyalty to the false pretense of a "secure job with good benefits" -- whatever the case may be, these misplaced travelers fight to establish themselves, yet are bewildered when they become distraught by their current situation.
I believe I am one of these global commuters who are merely -- stuck. I've been very pointedly trying to change this. Working two jobs, spending lightly (minus libation of course), telling my landlord I will not be renewing my lease at the end of the year, budgeting twice the required payment of my student loan -- the vagabond spirit calls.
For example, I've never tried foie gras. There are some exceptional restaurants in Chicago that serve foie gras. In fact, Chicago chefs stood as some of the tallest warriors in the rebellion when foie gras was banned.
The problem is, I don't want to try foie gras in Chicago! I want to try foie gras in France!
Of course, I will always have a home in Chicago. I love Chicago. This is my city. A city smack-dab in the middle of the country, yet there's nothing 'middle' about it. The city that emanates culture, character, beauty and a blatant disregard for the rules.
Maybe I have "grass is greener" syndrome. Someday I'll settle down --- maybe.
Yet still the lonely planet cries for a new companion -- someone to see all its wonders, and secrets, and even its ugly faces. So I continue my exploration for the perfect opportunity that will allow me to gain the financial freedom and the flexibility to join the modern nomads.
"All that is gold does not glitter,
not all those who wander are lost;
the old that is strong does not wither,
deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
a light from the shadows shall spring;
renewed shall be blade that was broken,
the crownless again shall be king."
~J.R.R. Tolkien
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Snorks vs. Gelflings
The strangest things spawn from beer.
Wait -- let me clarify -- the strangest conversations come to life with a few beers.
It all started with a debate on why girls can't burp because their heads are smaller than men's -- who tend to have room for more air. It's all resonance apparently.
This led to the the air flap in the head of the duck-billed dinosaur. You can actually go to the Field Museum (in Chicago) and press a bellow of air through this skull of a duck-billed dinosaur and make this "kkcqhuaaaauuwh" sound that resembles the noise you would make if an elephant sat on you while you had a mouth full of marshmallows -- or a viking war-horn -- I'm not sure which.
Then my friend Jason says that duck-billed dinosaurs remind him of Snorks. This triggered some deep-seeded memory from my childhood that had been repressed into the useless information compartment of my brain. What are Snorks? -- I YouTubed.
Why do we ever forget these characters that filled our after-school hours with such brainless joy. Like Balthasar, the flying dog/lion with no appendages from The Never Ending Story - or T-Bone and Razor from SWAT Kats.
(Don't tell anyone but I was infatuated with Tommy, the green power ranger who died and later came back as the white ranger.)
I honestly think I've watched every episode and mini-movie created of the cartoon series Gargoyles. I vividly remember the vivacious and forward Angela, secretly falling in love with the proud and strong Goliath (who's voice-actor also played Commander Riker in Star Trek: Next Generation -- oh yes, now you know), battling evil and dreading the sunrise of each day.
I suppose it's not the end of the world that one of my "closet nerd" tendencies has emerged into the living world. It happens. You can't be cool forever. Don't even get me started on David Bowie and Jennifer Connely in Labyrinth. Now please excuse me while I go and have a very serious comparative conversation about Jim Henson's The Dark Crystal, and Legend with 16-year-old Tom Cruise and Tim Curry as the devil.
Wait -- let me clarify -- the strangest conversations come to life with a few beers.
It all started with a debate on why girls can't burp because their heads are smaller than men's -- who tend to have room for more air. It's all resonance apparently.
This led to the the air flap in the head of the duck-billed dinosaur. You can actually go to the Field Museum (in Chicago) and press a bellow of air through this skull of a duck-billed dinosaur and make this "kkcqhuaaaauuwh" sound that resembles the noise you would make if an elephant sat on you while you had a mouth full of marshmallows -- or a viking war-horn -- I'm not sure which.
Then my friend Jason says that duck-billed dinosaurs remind him of Snorks. This triggered some deep-seeded memory from my childhood that had been repressed into the useless information compartment of my brain. What are Snorks? -- I YouTubed.
Why do we ever forget these characters that filled our after-school hours with such brainless joy. Like Balthasar, the flying dog/lion with no appendages from The Never Ending Story - or T-Bone and Razor from SWAT Kats.
(Don't tell anyone but I was infatuated with Tommy, the green power ranger who died and later came back as the white ranger.)
I honestly think I've watched every episode and mini-movie created of the cartoon series Gargoyles. I vividly remember the vivacious and forward Angela, secretly falling in love with the proud and strong Goliath (who's voice-actor also played Commander Riker in Star Trek: Next Generation -- oh yes, now you know), battling evil and dreading the sunrise of each day.
I suppose it's not the end of the world that one of my "closet nerd" tendencies has emerged into the living world. It happens. You can't be cool forever. Don't even get me started on David Bowie and Jennifer Connely in Labyrinth. Now please excuse me while I go and have a very serious comparative conversation about Jim Henson's The Dark Crystal, and Legend with 16-year-old Tom Cruise and Tim Curry as the devil.
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