Frequent Citations

Nevermind The Emotional Management Style, Or: I Get The Salary, You Get The Blame

I like to observe the management styles and lack thereof in my workplace.  There are certain people I will do everything in my power to avoid working with because I've seen their management styles second-hand and deemed them horrendous.  But . . . I'm now on a matter with someone whose leadership qualities are not quite what I would seek. 

I think I'm taking away two lessons from the recent round of interactions with this someone.  First, avoid sending emails in all caps demanding an instant meeting.  Unless, maybe, there's an emergency motion to enter within the next hour or something.  Second, never call a meeting in which you plan to discuss What Went Wrong And How Annoyed You Are without having a takeaway for people.  Because if my takeaway from the meeting is that you're unhappy and unsure of what your next step will be, I'm not coming out of that meeting with any concrete idea of what my next step should be.  I find that somewhat pointless and rather a waste of time.

Anyway.  We all have good days and bad days, so I can see that someone might need to vent and I won't get unduly bent out of shape about it -- pending further developments.  I do deem management training in my field to be minimal to nonexistent with the result that perhaps people don't realize that there are more and less effective ways to call meetings, address problems, or guide peons.  What I now realize is that not everyone can glean these points by mere observation.

Alas.

Never Say Die

Here's a great theme for a party:  tuxes and party frocks.  TFL and I went to such a party this past weekend, and it was just as delightful as you might imagine.  Everyone looked charming and elegant (except for the Irish soldier whose dress uniform was a tux draped with gold braid and medals -- upgraded from charming to pure deliciousness).  Ok, this being the Emerald City, one or two outfits were just downright scandalous, but delightful still in their own way.

TFL wore his tux and looked quite James Bond-ish in his own blonde way.  I guess with the latest Bond, Bond is blonde anyway (harrumph).  I wore a skinny little black satin party frock and my 4" burgundy patent pumps.  We spent the evening/early morning drinking champagne, chatting with interesting people, dancing, and generally enjoying ourselves.  It seemed like something we should do more often, especially now that I have the aforementioned party frock. 

Nice To Be Missed, I Guess

I'm back at work, and back in the whirl.  We filed the reply in one matter, got a production out in another matter, I was handed clean-up duties for someone else's project, and on top of that I got a call from a Very Important Person who I've worked for in the past and wanted me to go back and do a little more of the same.  Yeow.

It seems a little crazier than usual, but I got a lucky break or two that turned this week from potentially horrendous into possibly not bad.  We'll see how it goes.

In other news:  vacation was a stolen suitcase, a ton of driving, a few family bashes, a horrible football game on a perfect football afternoon, a lightening round of successful shopping, wrestling with cranky technology, and evaluating a (terrible) manuscript.  We got to see both kids, which was awesome, and it was good to get out of town -- and good to be back.

Nervous

I'm on a real vacation for the first time, and I just realized that it's making me very nervous.  What's happening at work while I'm gone?  Are they realizing they don't need me?  Are they deciding other people can do a better job at what I do? 

I'm not saying my nervousness is rational.  It just is.

But I am on vacation, visiting family, reading novels, watching movies, getting bags stolen, and trying to pick a stove to replace the one in the condo.  I had no idea stoves were so expensive.  Ouch!  TFL went off in a different direction for a few days to see his family, and I'm glad he had a chance to see them but I've decided I'm not a fan of his leaving me on my own.  Clearly, I brood, and become nervous.  Happily, he's coming back to where I am tomorrow.

In other news:  we had a sort of family reunion at my father's birthday bash and you'll all be happy to know that we're as rowdy and eccentric as ever.  It was the first time my brothers and I have been together in quite a few years, actually.  The important thing, of course, is that everyone liked my shoes no one cried my father had a great time.  In fact, he did, and that was all the rest of us wanted.

Optimal Dinner

I had a long day.  A call with a cranky partner, more calls with people who weren't sure what was going on (including me), an endless, thankless, and complicated task ("ETCT"), and that was all before I had to slip out for a haircut, by which time I had a horrible headache and realized I was going to have to spend all evening on the ETCT.

TFl to the rescue.  He stopped by my favorite restaurant in town to pick up dinner (including dessert, of course!) and bring it to me at the office.  Tasty!  And wonderful. 

See why I love him so?

Plus on Sunday he took me on a ride as the late afternoon sun lit up the trees, and the hillsides were glowing with colored light.  It's starting to get cold, so I don't know how much longer we'll be able to keep riding before I put my gear away for the winter.  In the meantime, I enjoy every minute of riding I get.

On The Stand

Over the weekend I went to be a witness for the trial skills program our firm runs every year.  How I got roped into this I don't know -- insanity, weakness, idiocy are all possible explanations.  I agreed to do it, though, and in due time I showed up at the hotel with my story book in tow and a store of resigned patience. 

My character was a rock star.  How much more appropriate could that be? 

Anyway, it was actually pretty interesting to see everything from the witness's perspective.  First of all, it really helps if the lawyer listens to what the witness says.  Also, preparation is good but not if you're totally scattered in how you prepare your witness.  But the witness's view of the trial is really narrow, even for the key witness.  So it helps to have some sense of how it's all planned out, but it's also good to know what the key points are to work in (or avoid). 

And use the visuals, man.  Always.

Outmaneuvered

I'm not a big fan of "women's" events, for multiple reasons which deserve a post of their own.  But the other evening I was sitting at my desk and my phone rang and, unthinking, I just picked it up because -- well, unthinking.  And a woman identified herself as a partner in Corporate and started very nicely twisting my arm to go to an event, the dreaded women's event.  Being weak (and caught off guard) I agreed.

Dagnabbit.

It's tomorrow, unless somehow my afternoon client meeting goes way, way long.  One can always hope.

In other news:  it's supposed to be too rainy to ride this weekend, which makes me sad.  The kids seem to be in the midst of insanely hard semesters.  My dad's Big Birthday Bash is on, and I've informed Work that I will be Gone that weekend -- which will rather suck for one or two of my coworkers.

Outfits

I love fall.  The weather is neither too hot nor too cold, there's plenty of football to watch, the holidays are near but not so close it's time to stress about getting ready for them.

The other day I saw two perfect and completely different fall outfits as I was walking to work. The first one I saw was the rocker/schoolgirl look, but somehow tastefully done.  First of all, the woman was the perfect age to pull it off, and had wild corkscrew curls without a hint of frizz, so that was pretty amazing right there.  Her outfit was thigh-high cuffed black leather boots, short plaid skirt, short black leather jacket over a black top.  With very simple, elegant makeup she looked great. 

The other outfit was the antithesis of rocker/schoolgirl, more of a Grace Kelly look with a winter-white jacket with a little peplum, a straight black skirt ending in a ruffle that precisely matched the lines of the peplum, and ivory peep-toed pumps.  She topped it all off with a clean updo for her hair.

One of the many things I enjoy about people-watching in this town is seeing outfits like those, precisely right from head to toe.

I tried on, fell in love with, and resisted buying another pair of shoes.  Black oxfords, with a 3.5" stacked wood heel and wing-tip detailing -- they were adorable and looked great with jeans.  Oh well.  They also cost half a plane ticket.

Spiffy in S.ho

One of my brothers runs a little garden system upstate.  The system was designed by the same minor deity who designed the Park I can once again see from my office. 

He blows into town from time to time (the brother, not the minor deity) for various events and meetings and, tonight, a fundraiser.  It's a cocktail party at a loft.  Said loft is owned by some Famous Person (of whom I'd never heard but I barely watch tv) and is therefore in a Highly Fashionable part of town.

Obviously, outfit and shoes were going to be critical issues.  Happily, they were dealt with long ago.  I'll be sporting a very closely fitted black suit (with a shocking pink lining in the jacket) and deep burgundy 4+" heels, and TFL will still be taller (even when he slouches). 

I'm thinking we may have to do dinner after.

Spent

Today was one of those days where I sat at my desk, my phone didn't ring, I didn't get emails, and I didn't get up -- I just worked, straight through.  It was a very long day.  I got a lot of writing done, but we'll have to wait until tomorrow to see if any of it makes sense.  Right now I'm just feeling a bit like a wrung out rag.

In other news:  one of my brothers is coming to stay and I truly and desperately need a housekeeper.