Adventures of a Gay Yuppie
During the 7 mile, 30 minute commute from the new job this evening (which is considered quite good for the area, by the way) , I was stuck behind a late model BMW 3-series. The license plate read “YUPPIES.”
Then I smiled to no one in particular and cranked up the NPR. Things are going to work out just fine.
For an internet professional, I’m not really into a lot of the bells and whistles available on ‘teh interwebz.’
In fact until a few weeks ago, I had never subscribed to a podcast. I just didn’t think I could ever get into it. Too much work for too little payoff.
But that all changed a few months ago when a kinky friend recommended the Savage LoveCast. These days I am positively obsessed.
The podcast is call-in advice show about sex, kink, and relationships. It’s hosted by gay sex advice columnist Dan Savage. One of the things I love about the podcast is that gay callers are highly disproportionately represented. Holla!
Dan’s attitude can be abrasive, and he says some things that are unpopular with Disney-style romantics. For example, Dan is sometimes okay with a person having sexual needs met outside of that person’s relationship, and he’s blatantly disenchanted with mainstream religion. If I had to summarize his attitude with an analogy, I would say that Dan Savage is to sex advice what Penelope Trunk is to career advice.
(There’s also a regular column on the website in case the podcast doesn’t whet your appetite.)
So sign up, subscribe, tune in, whatever, and then let me know what you think.
And it goes without saying, Savage Love is NOT safe for work (unless you have a very chill boss).
Nina at Queercents recently interviewed gay couple Sam Page and Bronson Page for her “Ten Money Questions” series. I have such a couple-crush on them.
Bronson’s blog has an entry in which he compares the prices of lubricants and even suggests a thrifty alternative. Totally my kind of guy.
On Sam’s blog, there are many hot pictures of… let’s just call it “inspiration for the gym.” And on Sam’s “About Me” page, he’s wearing a Lacoste polo, which when coupled with a pair of leather flip flops is just about my favorite look on a guy.
AND he indirectly replied to a comment I left calling him a hot ex-pornstar, which was more exciting than that time I saw Richard Gere and Julia Roberts in person, but less exciting than that time Gina Davis and her posse were blocking my car in the parking lot my sophomore year of college.
I can only hope one day I’ll get to be half of a couple-crush.
Nina, where do you find these people? You’ve got more connections than a box of Legos.
As my loyal readers might remember, I recently quit my first post college job.
There were many reasons I felt the need to move on so soon. The most important was that in that short time frame, I achieved a better grasp of my own passions. Before, I was floundering, desperate for anyone to hire me. And indeed, I quickly accepted the first well-paying position that came along, even though it was only tangentially related to my career interests.
Altogether, I spent six months in the position, but you know what? I am so appreciative for the opportunity. Each day was a learning experience, because even if I didn’t learn any new tech skill that day, I learned something about myself.
I know that sounds hokey, but it’s true. I learned about what I want in an employer, about how I work best with others (because the coworker dynamic is not the same as the bio lab partner dynamic), and even about how I handle stress (i.e. poor nutritional decisions).
However, I’d have to say that I learned the most during those last few weeks on the job. Some aspects of the transition I handled with grace and professionalism, but others were a disaster. In a way though, I’m glad I made mistakes in my first job. Hopefully I was just getting them out of the way so I can make new, bigger, completely different mistakes in my next job.
Below are five things I learned from the experience of quitting my first job, in no particular order.
1. Indecision is the enemy, but it gets better
I was beyond torn-up in the weeks before I dropped the bombshell and gave notice. After all, conventional wisdom says young employees should stay in their first job for a year or two, if only to prove that they’re not flaky. But on the other hand, is conventional wisdom worth constant unhappiness? And to top it all off, career guru Penelope Trunk writes that job hopping is a good thing. All those conflicting thoughts made my head spin and stomach lurch.
Naturally, I expected things to be worse after I formally and irreversibly announced my decision to the big boss. But a funny thing happened once I gave my notice. Work crises began to seem trivial. I felt a new sense of freedom. I stopped putting in overtime and working through lunches (for the most part), yet everything still got done on time, as if by magic. Those last few weeks my job barely fazed me, but only a few weeks before giving notice I think I might have been having panic attacks.
Making the decision to leave put everything into perspective and quieted my noisy head.
2. Look out for numero uno
I decided to give my notice right before semi-annual performance bonus time. I naively and blithely assumed that since the bonus was based on past performance I would still be eligible. Additionally, I gave above-and-beyond the standard two weeks’ notice… try two months. (And the bosses were trying to push for three months’ notice minimum.)
Also, one of the other dangling carrots was that if I just stayed until March I’d be eligible for a profit-sharing bonus. I figured if they were talking about a bonus in March, I’d definitely get the December end-of-year bonus.
No such luck. The end-of-year performance bonus was distributed to my coworkers, but no mention of it was made to me. I was afraid of possibly burning bridges by bringing it up, but now I wish I had said something.
It was hard not to beat myself up over the whole situation. Lesson: Don’t give notice until you’ve cashed the bonus check.
3. Be prepared for guilt-trips
Even though I have years of experience deflecting my mother’s world class guilt-trips, I was totally unprepared when they came from my boss:
“Do you know how much time and money we spent trying to find someone to fill your position? Not to mention the time spent training you? And paying your salary on top of that?”
Whoa. Red alert. Shields up.
Then came the sweet talk:
“We probably won’t be able to find someone as intelligent as you. It’ll take months to find a suitable replacement.”
Of course, I had invested in this job, too. I uprooted my life to move to the city D.C. suburbs. I also wanted to mention the unpaid mandatory overtime and weekend hours, but I cranked up the professionalism and kept my mouth shut.
4. Money is important, but not that important
As unprepared as I was for the guilt-trips, I was even less prepared for my boss’s attempts at negotiation. More money? No problem. Different work hours? He said they’d try to work something out. Better projects related to my career interests? Sure.
As an entry level employee, I didn’t expect the mad rush of counteroffers and arguments why I should stay. I didn’t exactly think the boss would be indifferent, but I didn’t expect to be fought over.
Without a doubt, the counteroffers were flattering. But they also made me wonder, “If these things offers were truly not a problem for the company, then why weren’t they brought up before? Was I not earning what I should?”
Even with the promise of more money, I turned down the counteroffer. I know it sounds crazy (especially from someone so young), but it just wasn’t a factor. Learning different skills and better opportunities for mentorships were what mattered in the end.
5. The job isn’t over after you leave
Though I left my old job a few weeks ago, I agreed to answer technical questions via email. I’ve also received two requests for referrals for open positions at the old company, and two of my former coworkers have kept in touch via email and IM.
In fact, thanks to email, IM, LinkedIn and Facebook, I will always be digitally connected to my old company… but I guess that’s just the price of admission these days.
I’d love to hear your thoughts. What did I do right? What did I screw up? Be harsh. Am I just another entitled millennial?
I’m a fan of lifehacks, which are little-known tips and tricks that boost productivity by solving common problems.
One thing that has always bothered me is not being able to remember how much money is stored on gift cards after I’ve made a purchase. The store receipt usually lists the balance, but who can keep track of all those tiny pieces of paper?
For a while I tried attaching the receipts to the gift card with a paper clip, but it was an imperfect system. For one thing, I like to store my important receipts in a dedicated folder, but I like to keep my gift cards on my bureau so I’ll see them everyday and remember to actually use them.
After the paper clip experiment, I tried writing gift card balances on Post Its, which I then stuck to the front of the gift cards. While Post Its were an improvement over the paper clips, I found that sometimes the Post Its peeled off the gift cards, seemingly of their own accord.
But now I think I’ve finally found a solution:
I write the remaining balance on the front of the gift card with dry erase marker.
Admittedly, it’s not perfect– the dry erase can smudge or wipe off, but it becomes more resistant with age, and it won’t smear like Sharpie. Also, the marker won’t show up on dark plastic, but many gift cards have white on the back.
Overall it’s a pretty quick, clutter-free system.
Do you have any lifehacks to share?
Happy dreaded Valentine’s Day, or as I prefer to call it, Singles Awareness Day.
I personally hate Valentine’s. It’s just a few days before my birthday, which totally steals my thunder, and for some reason certain friends think it’s not-at-all tacky to buy clearance Valentine chocolates as a birthday gift. (Hint: It’s not. Especially Russell Stover, gross.)
But maybe the real reason I don’t like Valentine’s Day is because I’ve never had a Valentine.
Try not to be shocked, gentle readers. I know you’re sitting there thinking, But he’s so witty on his blog, and fiscally responsible, and surely he’s handsome, too, so how is this even possible?
I’m not bitter, not exactly. I don’t harbor ill will towards my happily coupled friends, gay or straight. I wish them all the best.
But no matter how hard I try to eliminate it, there’s that nagging voice in the back of my head telling me, “That should be you. You should have romantic plans with a fabulous boyfriend tonight. What’s wrong with you?”
Stupid holiday.
My plan for coping is to sleep late, bother Melissa on IM while she’s at work, and watch as much The L Word as my brain can handle while I knock items off my to-do list in preparation for my new job next week. (I’m pretty sure keeping busy is one of the best ways to stave off holiday-induced loneliness.)
Also, I’ll be sure to check out Broken Cupid. Mike will almost certainly have an interesting Valentine’s Day post.
How do you plan to trudge through?
According to a paper recently published in Behavioral Neuroscience, rats fed a diet containing artificial sweetener actually gained more weight than rats fed real sugar. The scientists theorize that the artificial sweetener (saccharin) essentially fooled the rats’ metabolism, slowing it down so that the rats burned fewer calories overall.
I predict that this news will send shock waves through the gay community. Can you even imagine a world without snarky diet-coke-whores?
I, for one, am traumatized. I need to rethink my entire nutritional strategy and weekly shopping list.
What is going to replace my two daily diet sodas? Gin? Does that even come in a can?
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Not sure what all this RSS Feed stuff is about? Start here for a really good overview.
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Being something of a science nerd (shout-out to my fellow bio majors, holla back at me), I was excited to read that scientists around the world are actively trying to create eggs from male DNA, and sperm from female DNA. The implications are astounding and likely to stir up controversy across the globe. If this technology is viable, it would allow gay and lesbian couples to create biological children with DNA from both parents– a true gayby!
(If these reproductive techniques are made to work, there will still be biological limitations. Gay couples will need a willing uterus to carry the child to term. And since women have two X chromosomes, lesbian couples will need a Y chromosome in order to produce male offspring.)
But what does this all really mean? For the first time, homosexual couples could have reproductive options that rival those of their straight counterparts. Yes, one could argue that gays already can produce biological children via IVF (in vitro fertilization)– but these children receive their genetic information from only one parent, not both.
Naturally, there will be controversy. Those who oppose homosexuality on the grounds that homosexuals cannot reproduce will not be swayed by the possibility of genetically engineered children. Conservative and religious zealots aside, there are also weighty bio-ethical considerations. Is it right to tamper with nature to this degree? But isn’t that what people said about so-called ‘test-tube babies’ at first?
And if females can reproduce with other females, are males made irrelevant? The evolutionary implications are fascinating.
Let’s assume optimistically that this technology becomes legally available to the public in 20 years. It will be prohibitively expensive, especially for gay male couples, who will likely have to pay a woman to carry the embryo to term. Just look at IVF, which has been around for years and years but is still a financial impossibility for many couples.
If I do decide I want to have a genetic child with my future-partner, will I be able to afford it? Should I start a gayby savings account now in hopes I’ll have saved enough by age 40?
I know I’m still young, but better to start now while the power of compound interest is still on my side. Heck, even adoption is an expensive option, and simply having money bookmarked for a gayby doesn’t mean I’m committed to having one.
Is having a child that shares my DNA even all that important to me? Truthfully, I’m not sure yet. I have straight friends on both sides of the fence. One of my friends from college is adopted and told me that she only wants to have adopted kids herself. But then I’ve got another friend who said he only wants to have biological children. I can relate to both viewpoints. Am I being unreasonably selfish and/or immature if I opt for a biological child instead of an adopted child?
What do you think about this? Would you want a gayby?
In lieu of a boyfriend, many homos (present company included) choose to funnel their loneliness and quiet desperation into one of the world’s oldest hobbies– pet ownership. (You thought I was going to say ‘prostitution,’ didn’t you? But that’s the world’s oldest profession.)
What many guys don’t realize is that their choice of pet is a window into their own souls, even more so than the labels in their closets and the cars in their driveways.
It’s easy to disguise your true self behind designer jeans or a yuppie European sedan, but owning a pet is different than owning other types of ‘property.’
You can’t be fake around a pet. (Well, I guess you could, but what’s the point?) Pets share every moment of your mundane life with you. They’re there for you at the end of a hard day at work. They don’t care that you’ve put on five pounds and haven’t been to the gym in three months. Pets are fine with staying in on a cold Saturday night. And they won’t judge you for pre-ordering the Enchanted DVD, because they know that James Marsden is the hottest thing to ever walk on two legs and he sings, too.
Anyway.
The type of pet you own speaks to what kind of person you are and which characteristics you value in others:
Dogs are first and foremost known for their loyalty. They’re social, playful, and no one thinks you’re weird for wanting one. In a nutshell, dogs are the All-American, vanilla pet.
But different breeds have different needs and different owners. The toy breeds (Pomeranian, Chihuahua) suggests a gay comfortable with his trendy, effeminate side, whereas a mutt suggests a gay guy that doesn’t care about fancy labels. A Labrador suggests perhaps a guy ready to settle down in the suburbs.
Cats are fickle, mysterious, independent, and oddly popular with lesbians. As with dogs, owning a purebred may be a sign of obsession with status and labels. Although some cats may be friendly, generally a cat owner is more likely to be aloof and distant than a dog owner.
Any more than two cats and you totally deserve the “crazy cat lady” jokes.
P.S. If you’re a gay man thinking of naming your cat “Pussy,” please be advised that you’re not nearly as funny/clever as you think.
There are two types of fish owner.
The first has a few fish in a small freshwater aquarium. The fish may or may not have names, and were chosen from the pet store because they’re kind of cool to watch. It’s hard to come to any conclusions about this type of fish owner. He may want a more exciting pet, but is limited by budget or space. Or he might be afraid of anything that requires more commitment than a fish. Like a boyfriend.
The second type of fish owner is intense. These are your saltwater aquarium folks with hundreds of dollars of equipment. For them, learning about filtration and water chemistry is exciting.
I imagine that these are also the kind of people who design elaborate sex dungeons in their basements. Be warned.
Birds are messy, chatty and unpredictable, but also intelligent, flashy and inquisitive. Since parrots can live more than 50 years and possess the intellect of a human toddler, their human owners are very unlikely to be commitment-phobic or impatient, though they’ll probably be a little strange.
Suitable for perverts, and also for gays that happen to be 5th grade science teachers looking for a low-maintenance classroom pet.
What kind of pet do you have?
