Consulting is like Inception

 

Today I was having a chat with my sponsor at ThoughtWorks. We were discussing the fine nuances of consulting, in particular how to tiptoe the line between pushing for your opinion to be heard and acknowledging when to concede or just to let the client do what the client wants to do, even if you know it's not the best practice at the end of the day. 

Him: yeah we see the problems
Him: and we know how to solve them
Him: but that's not how the world works
Me: *sigh* sadly not
Him: you gotta play their game just enough to get inside it and change it
Me: like inception

This "consulting is like Inception" concept is definitely not a novel one (I know because I Googled it and wiser consultants than me have ruminated the comparison all over the internetz), but it's an analogy worth restating. A large part of being a consultant is getting situated and comfortable within the client site before you're able to even attempt to enact any influences or changes. This includes everything from building trust from the client to getting used to their cafeteria food, and it is only after such a foundation solidifies that consultants can then effectively well, do their job.

Just like Leonardo DiCaprio and co. worked so hard to plant the tinest nuance of an idea in their target's subconscious, so do consultants dig themselves into the client site and attempt to enact change within its confines and limits. And just like the characters of Inception encountered unexpected obstacles and risks and had to pull out from time to time, so do consultants have to deal with letting go of their own ideas, as right as they may seem, for the greater good of keeping the peace and maintaining trust with the client.

(Gap analysis: their obstacles were cool, like avalanches and cars falling into water, and ours are significantly more banal by comparison. Also I haven't met anybody who looks like Joseph Gordon-Levitt on the job yet, which in my personal opinion is totally unfair.)

Potatoes are tasty

Spicy ramen, eggs, guacamole, and potatoes are the four primary food groups that got me through college. Now that I am eating out pretty 80 or 90% of the time on the job, I am sick of restaurant food and find myself struck by pangs of longing for my staple noms. But cooking for one can be really frustrating on my weekends back in Chicago because that "one" cannot finish her leftovers the next day or hope that somehow her celery will make it through the next two weeks. So in a nutshell, I've missed cooking and it's lovely to be home at my parents' house in a fully-stocked, brand new kitchen.

Breakfast is always my absolute favorite meal, both to make and to consume. Especially when the house is empty and it's 11:00 AM and I have no rush to accomplish anything productive or meaningful for the entire day. My favorite breakfast dish? Potatoes. Lots of 'em. In my mouth.

To begin, I grabbed a medium-sized russet potato. I gave it a good scrub and then cubed it, leaving the skin on (ridding potatoes of their skins is, in my book, a sin against humanity).

 

While I was chopping the taters, I'd dropped two tablespoons of vegetable oil in a skillet over medium heat. I transferred the goods to the pan and tossed it around to coat all the surfaces as evenly as possible.

Next came the fun part - seasoning! I am too lazy and have too short term of a memory to know exactly what I throw in there and in what quantities, but it usually always turns out quite tasty anyway (except for that time I dumped half a spice bottle of rosemary by accident. Eight people had to pretend like they really loved rosemaried potatoes that morning). Today I ransacked my parents' kitchen and found the usual players: salt and black pepper, allspice. But then, lo and behold, out of the corner of my eye I glimpsed an old love of mine:

Words cannot describe how fond I am of Old Bay seasoning. Not only is it a delicious ingredient in it of itself, it also reminds me of one of my favorite things in the world - eating blue crabs with my parents. Such a Maryland, home-y taste to this spice! I also adore it on greasy boardwalk fries, so I figured why not add it to my greasy morning taters?

I usually add all spices about five minutes after putting the potatoes into the oil, just to give them a little bit of time to absorb the moisture. I then let them cook for more five minutes (still on medium) and then cover them for another ten before serving. This morning's tater accomplices: a nice thick chunky line of ketchup, an egg over (very, salmonelly) easy, blueberries and clementines, some nice smoked gouda cheese, and a mug of Mocha Cappuccino Swiss Miss hot chocolate. Needless to brag, it was a delicious breakfast (though I won't lie: it left me feeling rather stuffed and perhaps a little disgusted with my own gluttony afterwards. But it got me through five consecutive episodes of Glee!). Cheers to happy holidays and nomtastic nourriture!

Rihanna is the only girl for me, apparently.

I have an enormous girl crush on Rihanna. She is fierce in every sense of the word and I love everything she wears, sings, and wipes her nose on. As of late my predominately male-vocalized music collection been gathering dust in the unloved corner of my iTunes library because I have only been listening to this goddess (and when I can, watching the gorgeous video) on repeat.

It's getting a little sad and I am starting to worry about myself. I am not sure it is entirely normal to take an hourlong bubble bath and have this song play 15 times in a row in the background (...and then to blow dry my hair to it afterwards). I've definitely become obsessed with catchy pop songs in the past and have always successful exorcised them from my brain by playing them until I vomit. But it's not working with this one - I just enjoy it more each time.

I never did like my forehead that much anyway...

I've had long, long hair for an even longer time. Heavy, hanging, a curtain to the world - it's always been a part of me. I've nailed down a routine where I get it trimmed once every three months and occasionally curl it when I find the time. But otherwise I leave it as it is: long, lanky, unlayered, and kind of insane.

Lately it's been getting on my nerves. For one, I'm sick of finding long hairs in my food, in my bed, on my clothes, and worse, on other people's belongings. For another, living in Canada for 5/7ths of my life has reduced the ends of my hair to a pathetic and tangled state. So today, as I walked over to my salon for my usual trim appointment, I made the decision to go for more than just a trim.

Long hair - it can drive a girl crazy!

I am usually a giant wimp when it comes to haircuts and change in general. I quietly ask for one inch to be cut off and sit there crying silently when I see my locks fall to the ground. Also I've always sort of hated bangs on people, lol, for no rational reason. But today I quite contentedly plopped down, flipped my hair out from under my jacket, and told my stylist that I wanted four inches off, lots of layers, and oh, a fringe bang, if you will.

I am quite digging my new haircut, especially the fact that I can either leave it hanging as a fringe or push it aside for a more side-swept look. It makes me feel edgier and more put-together and I don't miss the old mop of hair I used to tote around with me everywhere I went. In these pictures I am not wearing makeup but I imagine it'll go well with some black eyeliner and mascara action for a very "city" look.

Fun at Fernie

I spent my second weekend in Canada in a small city called Fernie which can be found in British Columbia, just beyond the bordering reach of Alberta. Fun facts about Fernie: hitchhiking is prevalent and encouraged by the townsfolk. The population is around 4,000. There do not appear to be any Asians in that population.

The lodge/cabin we were told about turned out to be more like a mansion atop a mountain. Amenities included an outdoor jacuzzi, a fully-stocked kitchen, and two pugs to play with, one of which was blind and would walk into walls and chairs, thereby inducing rounds of simultaneous cringes and "awwws".

I've decided that if and when I ever decide to own a home, the kitchen is going to be by far the most important room. Cooking in this place was, in a word, delightful. I was seriously channeling Rachel Ray as I made myself and a colleague omelets for breakfast on Saturday morning.

The players: green pepper, onion, tomato, Gruyere, bacon, S&P. Yummmm.

We passed the time watching movies (the extended Lord of the Rings films were on the screen in the living room the entire weekend. We'd zone in and out and groan when Legolas said obvious things), stuffing our faces, and playing board games. The first two I'd been expecting...the third, not so much. But as it turns out, one of my colleagues is a complete board game fanatic and had brought a subset of his collection of unique board games. We first played Last Night on Earth, which was a fun struggle between zombie and human players. The second game, pictured above, was called Defenders of the Realm and went along perfectly with LotR in the background - both that and Last Night on Earth were strategy games, similar to Risk but with way more intricacies. The third, Chicago Express, was my favorite. It was an investment game that involved a lot of math (go figure) and sneaky plotting.

We also bought and decorated a Christmas tree for the cabin. You know, to be festive and wasteful with our money, just like the holidays are designed to enable us to be!

I had a superb time in Fernie - it made coming back to work Monday morning all the more painful. I can't picture myself ever living full time in such a small town, but for a weekend getaway it sure hit the spot!

Things that I never thought I'd learn on the job but at which I am now relatively skilled to proficient

- Driving in the snow. Actually, just driving in general...and mostly through trial and error. Due to the nature of consulting/traveling, I have engaged in polygamous liasons with many a rental car, some of which are well equipped for slush and snow, others which are more slippery and slide-y than your mother (zing!). I can now get to work and back when there is snow outside without killing myself or anybody else on the road. This for me is veritably, a Great Success.

- Trimming down my morning routine to 15 minutes on a non-shower morning. 5 minutes to trudge over to the sink and brush my teeth/wash my face, 5 minutes for makeup, 5 minutes for ransacking my closet for something that is not a burlap sack to wear to work.

- Writing fast, snappy e-mails. If I were to take my time and write well thought-out responses, I would be trapped in e-mail hell for the rest of my career. Also as long as I insert a :-) or a "Cheers!" somewhere in there I don't come off sounding like a giant bitch no matter the rest of the tone of the e-mail.

- Taking a 30 second breather. I open up my personal e-mail, Facebook, and sometimes a reddit tab or two and quickly glance through for anything interesting before resuming work. This activity, done once every couple of hours, serves as a good reminder that I have a life outside of the office. Or once had one. I dunno anymore.

- The entire Starbucks menu. I have mastered it as well as found my fallback/default order: a grande Americano with nonfat milk and one sugar. And an oatmeal when they have the nut toppings, a spinach wrap when they don't.

Oh, and a bunch of stuff on how to be a competent consultant/business analyst/communicator/team player/interface designer/product modeler/meeting facilitator, but those are all boring, eh? ;)

Tired & Tangled

Just came back from watching the new Disney movie "Tangled" with a couple coworkers. The verdict: entertaining and a fun twist on a classic fairytale story, but nothing out of this world spectacular. In other words: you'll enjoy the movie as long as you don't go in with the expectation of seeing a Wall-E or Finding Nemo-caliber theatrical masterpiece.

I've had a pretty boring week, mostly because I've been getting home late from work and crawling into bed with The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo or a mindless episode of Gossip Girl before clunking out at like 9 PM...yeah, so hip, so fly. I think it's the whole waking-up-before-sunrise and going-home-well-after-sunset effect that's taking a toll on me, both mentally and physically. I am starting to feel and look and probably smell like a zombie. Mmm, decaying flesh - irresistible.

The coming weekend should be a wee bit more exciting though as a handful of ThoughtWorkers, myself included, are heading up to a small town in British Columbia called Fernie for a mountain getaway ski lodge trip bonanza event thingy woo I rock at English. I have never been more excited to do nothing with myself all weekend except get tipsy on red wine and pruny in a steaming jacuzzi. I may or may not have plans to drop a bath bomb in there and scare the living shit out of my colleagues ("SWEET JESUS WHEN DID THE WATER TURN PINK AND GLITTERY")

Oh, also I Google Imaged "Fernie" and found this picture:

This picture succinctly conveys what I look and feel like each day after work: wiped out, immobile, clutching onto someone's ankles. God only knows what kind of shape I'll be in after a day of snowboarding. Will definitely update with pictures galore, Wi-fi willing.

Hi, I'm a Mac.

As of right this very second, I am a proud sort-of owner of a brand new 13-inch Macbook Pro. Sort-of meaning the computer does not belong to me; it belongs to the company from which ThoughtWorks leases our machines. But for all intents and purposes, it is now mine to use, to travel with, and to adoringly cradle and whisper sweet nothings to at night. I may or may not have already affectionately referred to it as "my baby".

The company laptop I was using before was a Dell Latitude E3400. And I swear to God: it was possessed by the devil. Over time, the fiery demon embedded in that machine only grew more ferocious and unwieldy - by the time I lugged the beast over to our IT department yesterday, my computer was afflicted with not one, not two, but THREE symptoms, all of which I am sure are trademarks of the devil:

1. The speakers were completely bust. Turning on any sort of sound would result in agonizing, scratchy thumps that resonated in my soul day in and day out.

2. My screen would physically react to certain web sites - specifically, Flash-based ones with dark-colored backgrounds. White columns would appear and begin to flicker - the more intense the site, the more the columns and the more their flickering would plague me. Not only did this give me a migraine, it seriously confused my colleagues who'd happen to walk by and see me typing away on a epileptic screen.

3. Sometimes, in the middle of typing anything - an e-mail, a blog post, an Excel document - the index would jump about twelve letters previous to where it was supposed to be, essentially splicing my sentences and words at arbitrary times. This was incredibly frustrating, as if I was not careful when typing for long periods of time I could easily miss a "splice" and wind up with words like "derPerhaps" or "whatfromever".

The IT guys made a few attempts at exorcising my Latitude of its inner demon, all to no avail, so when I half-jokingly asked "any Macbook Pros left?" and was promptly handed over this glorious aluminum beauty, it was all I could do to keep from jumping up and down and doing an ill-executed somersault right there on the spot. Well actually I was at ThoughtWorks so I probably could've done it and nobody would have cared.

I will probably spend most of today setting up and tinkering around with my shiny new toy. I love almost everything about my ba - er, new computer, except for the fact that there is no forward delete key. Or maybe I am too dumb to find it. But it's okay - I am too delighted to care.

LUSH LOVE

This is a totally girly post, so to all you Y-chromosomers out there: I will discuss pink fluffy bubbles. You've been warned.

So...I've been working. A lot. The half-hour-to-hour commute twice each day, the ten to eleven-hour workday, and the constant traveling is bad enough; then tack on all the pressure we have to meet our milestones and I become one very stressed girl.

My favorite way to relax? Soak in a long, nice bath.

Here's my recipe for relaxation:

1.) Allot time. This is usually the most difficult part for me (hey, you try turning down drinks with your colleagues and saying "umm, I want to take a bath" when they ask why you're leaving). But it's imperative not to feel rushed! I always try to set apart one bath night a week. Usually 1-1.5 hours will suffice. Primetime is right before bedtime.
2.) Pick an album you adore to play in the background. Today's was Fleet Foxes for me.
3.) Find a combination of bath products that you love. Try mixing up bars, bubbles, soaps, oils, candles...whatever it takes! Today I used 1/4th of The Comforter bubble bar and a Keep It Fluffy (the purple one) bath bomb, both LUSH products.
4.) GO CRAZY!

 

I crumbled the bubble bar, a longtime love of mine, first under the hot running water. It filled my tub with glorious fluffy bubbles and turned the water a lovely baby pink color and laced my bathroom with a sweet cotton candy scent, yummmm. When I was done running the water, I dropped in the bath bomb, which fizzed into a lavender smell and turned the bath water purple - so fun!

I definitely love experimenting with different smells. In fact, I ramble on and on about "omg I had the best bath ever last night" so much to my colleagues that I've since persuaded a couple of them to try it for themselves - I've even piqued a couple of male colleagues' interests. But in all honesty, despite everyone's snickering, I firmly vouch that bubble baths are probably the most underrated things ever for adults. For just a few bucks and an hour or so of your time, it will do miraculous things to your body, mind, and state of being. And it leaves you feeling clean and girly and smelling like lavender. Seriously, what more could you want in life?