"Because you wear your red heels carrying your pitchfork." This is the response I received when I asked why someone in my office (who I barely know) is frightened of my existence. Me, this lady. Apparently the devil. In red heels. I struggle with this "people are intimidated" by me thing. Yes, there are times when I intentionally create that perception for good reason and those people should fear me. It comes in very handy in the professional world and in dealing with life's random assholes. It's the unintentional intimidation of non-targets I fail to grasp because really? At my core, I just want to please people. I have a hypothesis. I am intimidating. But not for the reasons people may think. I don't think it's cool, nor do I pride myself on being a bitch (although I am accomplished at it when required). I'm not actually that mean. I'm quite sensitive. I can be a total doormat. Yep. Doormat. So why this outward perception? Bec...

When asked why I am good at my job, my response is typically as follows: "Because I give a shit." And boy did I ever for the past nine months. I have been working with a highly talented team of people to develop what is now the AT&T careers website. I have nurtured this baby from a bullet list of requirements to a PDF of pretty pictures, to a fully functioning, highly immersive and absolutely gorgeous live website. This must be what it's like to give birth. Simultaneously joyful, overwhelming and a little sad that it's over. Of course, I alone have not achieved this. There were plenty of people involved, for I am not a web designer nor programmer...but I have been known to write some copy.  I took it personally and project managed it to perfection. Which is most definitely why they call me a VP. Not so much. But it mattered. It had to be absolutely right. And thankfully I have a visionary client, the most incredible creative director on the planet (and no you ...

A few days ago I got married and had three children. At least according to the "Semester at Sea Alumni Directory." My boyfriend spent several months on a boat in college--hence the semester at sea--touring the world and gaining life experience, and they contacted him for an update. Much to my surprise when asked about a wife, he said me. And children? Well, I'll have you know we have little Pace, Krista and Cherokee, according to Scott. Should we have real children one day, he will have zero say in what we name them. While on the phone he looks at me and says, "honey who was born first, Pace or Krista?" when listing his children by birth order, as recommended by the kindly phone representative. What she must think of us.

A very dear friend of mine was in a horrible accident this weekend. She was one of the lucky ones. Whereas others lost their lives or had them changed forever, she's in bad shape but will by the grace of God recover fully. Or will she? What remains to be seen is the affect a tragic and significant incident like this will have on her life. There is no question coming this close to death is likely to have an impact in some way, shape, or form. In her case, I know it will be positive -- she's going to be just fine and maybe even better than before. Life has dealt her a pretty shitty deck of cards in her time, but she's been blessed with the gift of resilience. Like always, I know she will come out smiling with the support of her true friends and family who love her to the ends of the earth. But let's face it. We as a collective take life for granted. We're here, going about our business, bitching about our spouses (or lack thereof--guilty), toiling through the da...

Today was one of those days that didn't exactly go as planned. I am still in my living room, when I should be in a hotel room watching a movie and ordering room service in the city of L.A. Last night, I got really sick. What kind of sick I will leave to your imagination. I can't say this was entirely unexpected...I had been feeling off all week, especially in the mornings and at night before bed. The timing was just impeccable. I slept maybe three hours, and when it came time to get up and head out the door I knew I was in absolutely no state to get on a plane. For my sake and everyone else's. And I immediately felt guilty. Because I had to fly for work and I had two meetings to conduct over two days. It didn't matter that I really, truly, would not survive five hours in the air, not to mention a meeting. I still spent the rest of my day trying to get another flight, stressing myself out and worsening the situation. When I called Delta, they told me the next fligh...

Just found this online while debating my "type" with my boyfriend (beyond hot, smart and way out of his league). Thought I would share the Myers-Briggs personality test in the event you are curious about yourself! It's free, so check it out . Take time with it -- 20 to 30 minutes -- and answer honestly, not what people say you are. As an example, let's take me. Naturally. People think I'm an extrovert and highly social. I'm not. It's a struggle. But I have adapted over the years out of necessity. Kind of like a highly functioning alcoholic. So when asked if I thrive in social situations with large groups of people, that would be a "No". Fun little exercise and you might learn a thing or two. Or your significant other.

I heard a rumor the dislike button is now available on Facebook. I have yet to investigate it for fear of abuse once possessed. I dislike all kinds of crap out there, and will likely end up insulting and even alienating people should this little button find its way into my applications.    My number one pet peeve? No pictures of yourself. What's the point of being a Facebook stalker if you can't look at photos? Or being on Facebook period? This is not just a dislike, but a Facebook fail. And to the people who post pics of their kids / pets only? Let me tell you, I immediately assume you are much less attractive than when I knew you, or that your self-esteem is currently supported by anti-depressants. Next up is Four Square. I do not care where the hell you are. Period. But burglars and serial killers might.  And who wants to be a fake Mayor anyway? And finally, there are the people that don't know how to use it, i.e. updating their status with what was meant to be a...