Pause

I feel like I need to send out a general apology to the readership. Two months now without a word from me. It must seem terribly selfish.

Especially since I need you to indulge me a little bit longer.  I'm not ready to come back yet. The words aren't there, the energy isn't there, it's just not a good writing time.

I need a break.

I will come back though, I promise.

Until then, buy shoes.

Or something else that makes you happy.

Love,

Res

Hello conscience

"Hi. I am your conscience. And right now, I'm telling you that it's time for you to BLOG already!"

That's the message I got from my conscience today.  And believe me, when your conscience suddenly starts talking to you, you stand up and take note.  You also find yourself wondering whether those mushrooms you pulled out from the back of the fridge last night in a half-hearted attempt to get your five-a-day weren't a bit funny...

So here I am, blogging.  But what about?

The problem with getting a job is that your life becomes a whole lot less exciting all of a sudden.  Especially if that job is in Switzerland.  And especially if you can't blog about your job because said job is so unique that as soon as you open your exhibitionist little mouth everyone would figure out exactly what it is you're doing.

Which would get you fired.

Although I suppose that would be something to blog about.

But until that happens, there's always the fascinating topic of the failed novel.  I'm up to ten rejections now (they come in slow and steady, like an IV drip).  I'm thinking I should publish the best ones and let you vote on which are the most insulting.  So far I'm leaning towards the personalized and delightfully constructive "Res, you write beautifully, but your characters and plot suck."

Cheers.

As for the agents who asked for my full manuscript, not a peep out of them since October.  Come on people, I wrote a 63,000-word basic Chick Lit novel, not War and Peace!

Okay, see?  This is why I don't blog anymore.  Because I just end up getting upset and ranting and raving and showing you my not-so-darling side...

I need some Gute Laune... can anyone catch me some of those?  (with a side of sunshine, please)

We have a pulse

I am alive.

I have not been gobbled up by a giant piece of cheese.

I have not been shat on by a monstrous Swiss milk chocolate cow.

I have not been shipped off in a box to Qatar to tell them what's what.

I have, however, been sans internet from the date of last posting to, well, five minutes ago.  The internet/digital-tv fixit man has just exited stage left, along with his wall-to-wall butt-crack, leaving in his wake.... THE INTERNET!

It is a beautiful thing.  So beautiful, in fact, that I wonder how on earth I managed those first eighteen-odd years of my life when I had never even heard of the great big web across the whole wide world.

I promise to post loads and loads in the coming weeks to make up for my unforgivable absence, and give you the detailed skinny on my life this side of the Alps, the heartaches, the stomachaches, the headaches, and the snow.  And some good stuff as well. 

But first I need to answer about 50 facebook messages...

Five Second Connection

I have moved (yay! hello again, Paris!).

As a result, I have spent the last three days splattered in paint and surrounded by enough cardboard and bubble wrap to make a pretty cool fort.

I am also sans internet connectivity.  Which means no TV, no email, no checking the NY Times, and no blogging.  This is actually the first time in three days that I've taken a peak at the outside world (thanks to Le Pain Quotidien's free wifi and 4-euro sinful brownie) - and I only had 20 minutes of battery life.

Gasp.

So please be patient over the next few days as Res goes radio silent again.  I promise you an extra-exciting post when I return.  Even if I have to make up the excitement.

Un peu de légèreté

I've had violent mood swings all day. The nightmare very, very early this morning that had me screaming (seriously, screaming, out loud, good thing there's no one else in the house). Forgetting everything I wanted to write in chapter 19. Then when it came back. The giddiness when I realized that I would probably be done with the first draft in a few chapters. The fear when I realized that I would probably be done with the first draft in a few chapters. The sunshine. The clouds. Bla bla bla.

So enough.

Tonight I'm going to amuse you with something completely different.

Tonight, I'm going to make you laugh with the funniest key word searches that led people to my blogs. Because sometimes you need a little silly.

1. "pierre chandon ioana popescu married" : The INSEADers, former and present students of Mr Chandon and Ms Popescu will appreciate this one. And as far as I know, no they're not. Married, I mean.

2. "grumpy when it's sunny": I like to wonder about what someone might have been looking for when they searched for that. An excuse to be grumpy when it's sunny? A cure? A how-to? I love it.

3. "what defines me": Hey, I'm with you kid. Sometimes you need all the help you can get.

4. "run over a chameleon": What? Am I being read by crazy lizard haters now? Or PETA? It's not like I did it on purpose!

5. "demand curve of kit kat": Confectionary matters.

6. "i am a little piggie": I don't know what to say. I really don't. Sweetie, if you're reading this now (especially if you're the one who also searched for the kit kat demand curve), then stop, put down the chocolate, play your favourite girl power song on and dance! It's great for the hips.

That's it. Hope it made you smile. Now go back to whatever you were doing, it's probably more important.

Of Love and Literature

I'm sorry boys and girls. I've been out frolicking in the countryside, enjoying my new life of love and freedom and literary treats, and I've just been leaving you by the wayside, haven't I. How very selfish of me.

But you have to understand. This is it! The life I've always wanted! It's finally mine! (Please refrain from calling forth unsavoury images of Gollum, or those seagulls in Finding Nemo.)

And so Newly Minted Res has been busy. Seeing her friends. Even in the middle of the day. Whenever they need her, really. And travelling on the weekends to nurture a young but promising love affair. And writing, re-writing, erasing, tweaking, and generally tearing her hair and heart out over the pages of that young but promising novel of hers. Basically there's lots of nurturing. So much so that one day I may be able to graduate onto a pet. Possibly a goldfish.

But I digress. This was supposed to be an apology. I'm not terribly good at written apologies. I find the teary-eyed hug technique to be so much more effective. (I'm irresistible when I go in for the teary-eyed hug, no matter how unforgivable I've been).

So instead of an apology, let me offer a gift. Of the latest two books I've read which were absolutely incredible, and the one I'm reading now which promises to be just as good (there's another thing I've been catching up on besides love, liberty and happiness: reading. It is possible I've died and gone to Res heaven. And I don't even miss the Blackberry one little bit.)

1. The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society - Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows: don't be put off by the title, or the epistolary form, this book is a treat, like a toffee that keeps getting better as it melts in your mouth. Irresistible.

2. The Uncommon Reader - Alan Bennett: imagine if the Queen did nothing all day but devour novels. Are you smiling yet? You've only just started.

3. The Book Thief - Markus Zusak: it's not just the premise that's left-field, but the style as well. And the result is bewitching.

Notice that all three books are about... books. There's a sign there, I think.

What I did on my summer holiday

My fans (all two of them) have of late expressed their disappointment at my failure to regularly upload some witty, cutting remarks on the state of consulting, London weather and my fed-up-ness with men. What, you think blog posts grow on trees?! You think it's easy to find some new, clever way to say my job basically consists of writing "leverage" in different colours on slides, it's raining in London (although strangely, not today) and, well, I'm fed up with men?

Well, it's not, OK?! Sometimes, I have writer's block. Like now.

But since the children must be fed their greens, here's "what I did on my summer holiday", in bullet points, à la consultanese:

• I haven't had a summer holiday yet
• I have, however, had a couple weekends away
• First, I went to Lake Garda in Italy (insert schematic representation of lake surrounded by mountains)
• This allowed me to spend some quality time with former INSEAD classmates (insert INSEAD logo and think-cell chart on value of networking)
• They are both consultants too
• One of them jumped in the lake with his blackberry (pause for dramatic effect)
• Last weekend, I went home to the South of France
• I spent two days with family and friends
• I ate well, and slept, and saw the sun
• I was happy (ERROR MESSAGE: Powerpoint is unable to process)
• Next steps...

And in other news, it appears that when faced with the possible end of the world as we know it, Americans vote based on height. Oh good. Nothing to worry about, then.

Confidante

Over a refreshing glass of Perrier this afternoon, my friend N told me how she had recently chatted with our mutual friend S, who inquired about my general well-being and noted that she hadn't heard from me in a few weeks. To which N replied that this was perfectly normal as I now typically resorted to "speaking to my blog" rather than speaking to my friends.

Ouch. Is this true?

Well, to be honest, it probably is, a bit.

The old me would have probably gotten defensive and upset at this point. But the new me is all about introspection and self-improvement and being über-zen about all this shit so I decided to let it sink in, have a nice long think, then write about it on my blog. No, the irony isn't lost on me, either.

So why is it that I've developed this "Blog First, Talk Later" attitude? Well, mostly it's a way to structure my thoughts before I brain-dump my friends into a coma. Like many (most) people, I find it difficult to talk about the things that upset me in a calm, rational manner, especially when someone else actually intends to participate in the conversation and do annoying things like ask questions, test my logic, or provide well-intentioned advice. Half the time I don't even know what I'm talking about before I'm at least 2/3 of the way into my rant. Seriously.

By writing about it first, I can actually figure out what it is I want to talk about before I pick up the phone or meet you for coffee. Of course, it also means that I will probably be feeling better already, and therefore more inclined to have a chat about shoes, your latest boyfriend, or that article from last week's New York Times.

Trust me, you're better off this way.

My inner mind isn't the most attractive place right now.

Double Life

I assume you've noticed things have changed somewhat over the past couple months. Notably, this blog has gone from being somewhat of an afterthought to something altogether more urgent. In fact, the blog is really now "what I do."

I'm coming up to almost 7 years of professional existence. First, as a lawyer. I love the law, it's a fascinating intellectual exercise; sort of like a Rubix cube. But you don't want to be one of those people who are defined by their Rubix cube. That's sad. Today, I'm a consultant. We all know I've had mixed feelings about consulting from the start, and my latest project has given me the most up-close look at a nervous breakdown that I'm willing to risk.

So now what.

Maybe I finally let go of the dream that my job would bring me happiness and fulfillment. Maybe I finally realized I need to look elsewhere for definition.

So I came home, looked around, and I didn't find anything. Even my "cat-lady" fall-back option was gone. And this made me sad. So I wrote about it. And pressed "Publish". And felt a little better. I tried again, and it worked again. Fascinating stuff.

Now I spend large parts of my day composing posts in my head while absent-mindedly aligning boxes on powerpoint. I smile when I realize it's almost time to go to "my real job". I wake up in the morning and rush to check my comments and blog stats, giggling like a schoolgirl when I think I may have "captured" another reader for my stories. What validation! What thrill!

With all this alternative, non-paycheck-related excitement, my days go by a little faster, a little more happily, and even the loneliness has started to recede. Don't worry, I'm not about to trade in the chance at a real life for a virtual one, and an actual face-to-face conversation over lunch with a friend remains more satisfying. And I know I'm taking a risk that my employers (past, present and future) could take offence.

But this is fun. Let me just enjoy it for a while.

From the couch

Ah, how perfect, perched up over the L.E.S., waiting to go out and grab a few drinks on Orchard Street, and listening to Ryan Adam's "New York New York".

All said and done, I should be in 7th heaven right now. I had a yummy Diner breakfast of french toast and maple syrup with my lovely travelling companion N this morning, followed by lunch with very very close friend E (+1 baby) in the Meatpacking District, and topped off with yet more chatter with another E over in Brooklyn. Tonight, and over the next couple days, there will be more friends, more catching up, maybe a little shopping... Really, what's not to love?

And yet. As I look out at the rain pouring over New York, I can't help thinking I'm bringing the whole city down. Yes, there's the Boy trouble, and having to give away my cats, and having to go back to a job I'm less than enthousiastic about (note the carefully disguised euphemism) but surely despite all that I should still be able to dig deep and muster up the required vacation spirit?

And then there's the bittersweetness of being in New York. It feels a bit like going back to the house you grew up in and realizing all the furniture's been moved around and you can't remember where the bathroom is. And the new owners are treating you like a temporary and rather annoying guest they have to put up with while they wait to go back to their real lives, lives which you clearly are no part of. That's when it finally hits you that this house is not "home" anymore, that after years of pining to find that one place you belong you've now exhausted all possibilities and have nowhere else to look.

God, I've just read back over this post and it sounds almost as miserable as I actually feel. What a jolt. So much for the months of carefully practiced sugar-coating. What and how much to say on my blog has been at the forefront of my mind lately. I guess we're trying something new now. (As an aside, a big thank you to petite anglaise, who despite now being a serious, published author, actually took the time to reply to my email on this issue, blogueuse-to-blogueuse).

Spring cleaning

As you can see, I've decided to give my blog a new look for 2009. I'm not totally happy about it (I blame Blogger's limitations, and my own html inadequacies) so if anyone has any suggestions (or a better picture to grace the sidebar) please feel free! I've also put in updated links to pages I think are worth checking out (not even INSEAD-related...) for you own personal enjoyment.

Settling In

In terms of settling into my new apartment, I'm not doing a very good job. There are still a few (too many) boxes around, I'm still sans wardrobe, I'm still taking hours to find my stuff in the mornings, and there's still no food in my fridge.


But in terms of settling into my new Parisian life, I think I'm almost there. I really thought it would be harder, and lonelier, than it has been. While at INSEAD, everyone was talking about Dubai, London, Singapore, and I was worried I was going to get left behind. Instead, I now find myself in the "most happening" city in the INSEAD world! Whether it's because of the current job market, the fact that Paris is on the way to most places, or simply because people have finally realized this is the most beautiful city in the world (there's the chauvinist in me), France's capital has definitely become a hub of INSEAD activity. At least once or twice a week I find myself surrounded by former classmates having dinner, going dancing, celebrating housewarmings or making Charlie Chaplin films (don't ask). And of course there are the old friends, the ones who have stayed true despite the Fontainebleau hiatus during which I fell off the face of the earth, and who are now happily re-found.

So here I am with a busier social life than I have ever had, requiring the investment of significant physical and emotional energy. Don't get me wrong. Despite what some have said, this is not a continuation of INSEAD. Things today are very different; this is not just another "P". The people around me are not the same as a few months ago, or the ones I would necessarily have expected to be part of my new life. Some friends have been lost (or at least temporarily displaced) by the effect of geography, timing or life's unpredictable quirks, and others gained. Happily, there are also the two or three people I am so lucky to have kept close, and with whom I am now developing something perhaps more serious, and more "real" than what we might have had during those fickle INSEAD days.

A new career, a new apartment, a new city, new bonds, new feelings (not to mention a new, historical, US political landscape - go Obama!)... These first few months of my post-third-life-crisis life have been rife with upheaval, an ever-changing cartography I'm now slowly adapting to. Fortunately, some things never change. Like the fact that I can still ramble on for hours about absolutely nothing just for the pleasure of sending my thoughts into the ether. Like the fact that it's often a strong emotional reaction to someone close to me that gets me writing, and yet I never actually write about it (is that frustrating for you, I wonder?!) Like the fact that cigarettes, beer and melodramatic music (Pink Floyd, this time) always get the creative juices flowing.

It's good to know there are some things you can count on.

Losing One's Spots and Other News

My map has lost its spots. Apparently, these things need to be archived once in a while and I have no choice in the matter. After having seen my little spots multiply and grow over the past year, this is quite upsetting. But, as with my INSEAD experience, I suppose change must happen, all good things come to and end, it's time to move forward and [insert other favourite cliché here...]

In other news (and because I haven't been very good at updating you all on my life recently):

- I finally accepted a job last week. It's in consulting. Gasp. For those of you that have actually stuck by me and been reading this blog for a while, you will remember that I argued on multiple occasions that consulting was not the right path for me, that I wouldn't get sucked in to the machine, that staying closer to my original field was a much better option, and that I would never get a consulting offer anyway. To you, I now say: "Oops." Let me explain. One, only idiots never change their mind (right?) Two, I found it impossible to find an interesting legal job that didn't involve going back to do exactly what I was doing before (which really was not the point). Three, peer pressure works.

In any event, taking this job means I get to stay in Paris for a while (but still travel - thus enabling me to satisfy my permanently antsy nature and visit various INSEAD and pre-INSEAD friends). It also means I actually get to apply some of the things I learnt at INSEAD in the real world, and possibly also finally figure out how Excel works without having to call on my mathematician friends. Plus, I received several assurances that I could still transition back to law later on, in a more exciting role. So, all in all, a good choice, at least for now.

Oh, and if you want to know which consulting firm was crazy enough to hire me, I won't tell you. Wouldn't want to ruin their brand image.

- The Montmelian Ball was amazing. More than amazing. The best party of this year at INSEAD according to many surveyed (well, a couple people at least). Surreal in the extreme, it also hit home the fact that this is all almost over, which put me in a bit of a funk the next day (not helped by the hangover and lack of sleep).

- Classes (to the extent we still have a few) end in two weeks, and then we're off to Turkey for the graduation trip until the actual graduation ceremony takes place before an assembly of jet-lagged relatives, bored staff and slightly shell-shocked students. To be honest, I oscillate between denial, anticipation, and heartache at the moment. There will never be another year like this one, where everything is extreme and intense, as well as short-lived. Who will I see next year? Who will still be my friends 5 years down the road? How much of what I have learned will I still remember come September? How will I handle living with less than a dozen people and not having 3 costume parties to go to per week? Am I still able to get up early, put a suit on, and concentrate on more-or-less mundane tasks for an entire day without taking a break at the bar to gossip and sample Peruvian pisco, Chinese dumplings, Desi dancing or Italian fashion?

- Speaking of classes, I should perhaps mention the electives I am taking this period: Global Strategy & Management (an excellent mini, really should be a full course), Environmental Management (ugh), Brand Management (lots of fun but clearly I should never be allowed into marketing), and Dynamic Pricing & Revenue Management (thank god for the mathematicians in my group). Not quite up to the amazing standards of the P4 electives, they're on the whole pretty interesting classes. Now if only I could still muster up the energy to do some work...

- Plans. I have some. Including non-career-related and therefore much more exciting vacation plans for the summer. July will find me in California, combining a long-awaited mini-road trip with visits to close friends. Then in August there's a wedding and a couple weeks in the South of France (where hopefully I will be able to meet up with a few INSEADers for the first of what will hopefully be many reunions). The big question is: what should I do with my blog when school ends? I've had so much fun writing it, I think I'd miss it if it disappeared. On the other hand, it won't have much to do with INSEAD anymore. Perhaps I could follow in the footsteps of "Anonymous Lawyer" and become "Anonymous Consultant"?

Overshare?

I've been asked many times about why I choose to have a blog, why I would want to reveal myself to people who don't know me and have no reason to like me. Privacy has typically been categorized as a desirable thing, but is that still true in this age of Facebook and reality television (that being said, I have more than one friend who refuses to bow to Facebook pressure and who's private life thus remains strictly private)?
When asked about my motivations for blogging, I typically respond by saying that my purpose is educational only, and that my blog serves merely as a source of free information for prospective INSEAD students who are entitled to know more about the business school they might attend than what is printed in marketing material. But you and I both know that's only partly true. Some of my posts have nothing to do with INSEAD, and others reveal information that is unnecessary and trivial to a candidate's decision to attend this fine institution.
So why do I do it? Why this compulsive need to share (some of) my life with complete strangers? It can't just be the therapeutic act of writing, because good old paper-and-pen-lock-it-with-a-key diaries would do just as well. It can't just be to communicate with my friends scattered around the globe, because there's always free calls on skype to satsify that need.
So maybe I'm an over-sharer, compulsively addicted to rush that comes from reaching out and exposing a small window of vulnerability. Who knows. In any event, though I would argue I'm still very much "to the left of the plate", this article by blogger Emily Gould does raise some interesting questions.
In other news, this time directly related to INSEAD, a heartfelt congratulations goes out to the Summer Ball organising committee for putting on an extraordinary event last night. A veritable feast for the eyes and heart, this party contained more than its share of the "wow factor". Imagine this: the Fontainebleau chateau colourfully illuminated, fireworks, live bands, champagne on tap, a manic bongo-and-trumpet playing genius and hundreds of INSEADers, past and present, in tuxes and ball gowns. Simply magic. I promise to put up some pictures in my next post.
Til then, I wish you well, my anonymous and not-so-anonymous friends.

Plot the demand curve for sleep at INSEAD...

Phew, welcome week is finally over; it's all downhill from here.

The latter half of welcome week focused on getting to know our study group partners, and getting a taste of class methodology. INSEAD tradition is to put groups together in such a way as to ensure maximum conflict. From what I hear, this is the case with some of the groups but fortunately (and I realise I may be jinxing things here), I've been very lucky with mine. After several hours working on our first case presentation, many more hours trekking through the forest and some rather embarrassing dancing at the end-of-week party, we still all really like each other.

As far as classes are concerned, despite some reservations as to teaching style, I'm relatively happy overall. But I have a feeling the proverbial shit will hit the fan tomorrow, when "real" classes start. First up: Prices & Markets (micro-econ) and Uncertainty, Data & Judgment (statistics). Will let you know how that goes (methinks I should learn to use that damn financial calculator).

Of course, no INSEAD week is complete without a massive party at some insane location, so Saturday night (and Sunday morning) saw us headed to Chateau Le Vaux le Penil for the welcome bash. Now, this is where my position as class blogger becomes a bit tricky; I'm happy for people to know who I am, but have my newfound friends authorised me to disclose written and pictorial evidence of their doings on this public forum? Perhaps there is a theory of implied consent I could rely on here? (where are law school interns with westlaw access when you need them...)

Afraid to jeopardise my new connections so early on in the year, I will have to satisfy myself with only a couple anonymous pictures... I didn't actually take these myself, so credit goes to those photographers who unknowingly let me steal their pics off Facebook.