I was asked earlier today how I would quantify my success in ten years. What physical mementos will I surround myself with to feel that my educational and career choices eventually bore green-colored fruit (aka moola)? An extensive Italian art and/or designer shoe collection? A pricey car with an imaginably ever-hungry gas tank? A LOST-esque island to call my own (minus the Smoke Monster/Dharma Initiative fiasco)? Though I’ve never been one to obsess over money or financial matters, here are just a few of the more-or-less simple physical items I’d like to add to my collection over the next ten years:

- Nothing says “move it or lose it, buddy” like a multiple lane-hogging SUV, more precisely, a Range Rover. Though they may be dated in a few years, I’ve been eyeing these impractical tanks for a while now (while repressing my inner eco-friendly, Midwest hippie behind the curtain of my psyche). I figure that in my old age’s senile tendencies, not only will I own a more-than-capable vehicle that will get me to and from BINGO classes, I’ll own the R-O-A-D itself.

- A mansion, not a house. Multiple bedrooms and full baths, an indoor pool, expansive front and backyards, an Egyptian-themed hookah room, movie theater, a Japanese Samurai sword room, sauna room, and an outdoor bouncy-bounce. You know, for the “kids.” Oh, and a Botox room with my name spelled out on the wall in shiny, diamond-encrusted syringes!

- A jet pack – the latest craze in coast-to-coast travel!

- Books. With my name on the byline. I’ll start working on this goal soon!

What are some items on your ten-year list?

This entry was written by Sarah, posted on March 29, 2011 at 4:34 am, filed under Career, Finance, Goals, Money, Success and tagged career, finance, goals, money, success. Leave a comment or view the discussion at the permalink.

Compels me, anyway. I recently got an itch to conduct an online search for my third grade best friend from when my family lived in Fort Worth, Texas. She was the Ethel Mertz to my Lucy Ricardo, the Screech to my Zack Morris, and the book to my Lavar Burton. We lost touch once I switched schools one year later, even though I was located in the same state – back then, the best way of staying connected was to literally show up at someone’s house unannounced or to call them on a… gasp!… landline.

Aside from her first and last name, I knew she was Filipino. We bonded over being one of three total “foreign” students in a class of about 20. Go, Texas! I took to Facebook to search for my long-lost former BFF. After hastily scrolling through some potential candidates, I found a picture of a grown-up third grade version of what appeared to be my former bestie!

Excitedly, I messaged her: “Is this the [insert former BFF’s name her] who went to Western Hills Elementary School in Texas? If so, dude, we were totally inseparable in the third grade!” A few days went by, and nothing. Alas, the search to reconnect the dots of my disjointed memory would have to fare on.

Until a fateful message bringing back the rush of the aged Mrs. Pruitt’s third grade bunker-style classroom reached my inbox… “OMG Sarah? I tried searching for you so many times on Facebook! I’m so glad you found me!”

Reconnecting with a stranger I have not seen nor spoken to since I was six or seven years old became as easy as the day I first met her while discussing our respective family’s money issues (the life of an immigrant takes its toll at a young age), as we conspired to diplomatically trade our dull, undecorated, brown-colored pencils with classmates whose folks could afford to shell out for the highly-coveted Halloween- and Christmas-themed ones.

Later in life, not only was Facebook able to cosmically connect me with my husband (thank you Mark Zuckerberg!), it reminded me of the bubbly tomboy I once was, always cautious about the social and financial state of others who had even less than me and my family, via a long lost friend. I encourage you all to do the same, dear readers, for not only will you reconnect with the child you once were, you’ll transport yourself back to a world when breakfast cereals were based on the TGIF television line-up, and when cheetah print snap bracelets were THE undisputed hottest accessory on the market.

This entry was written by Sarah, posted on March 3, 2011 at 11:58 pm, filed under Facebook, Social Media, Social Networking, Social Networks and tagged 90s, Facebook, Mark Zuckerberg, Social Media, Social Networking, Social Networks. Leave a comment or view the discussion at the permalink.

Life is fueled by heftily priced lattes, pantyhose runs from an ever-bulging thigh-high region, bouts of ADD, continuous efforts towards getting an in with the “it” group of friends and coworkers, and high-fashion-with-little-effort Brooklyn hipsters popping out their perfectly coiffed pompadour heads from every corner as they smoke their precisely hand-rolled cigarettes. Holy hectic run-on sentence, Batman! The aforementioned defined my bleak outlook for years. One month ago, I finally became tired of feeling overwhelmed by life. I picked up the book “The Secret” by Rhonda Byrne on a recommendation from a culture-savvy friend and fellow editor living in Manhattan.

Byrne, an Aussie by birth and a television writer and producer by trade, penned what she, and other scholars, promised to be THE single-most coveted thought process to achieving success, wealth, love and general happiness. Hell, if it made Oprah’s book club, it had to be worth my time. The introduction of the book-turned-film reels readers in with: “As you learn The Secret, you will come to know how you can have, be, or do anything you want. You will come to know who you really are. You will come to know the true magnificence that awaits you in life.” Sounds pretty enlightening, right?

I kept an open mind as I read on, albeit with a slight air of skepticism, which for any true pessimist, is ingrained in our very being at birth.  Now, I’m not going to re-dispense the details of the book to you, that’s Byrne’s job and she does it well. Plus, I believe every reader will get exactly what he or she wants out of it upon completion. My reflections while reading “The Secret,” however, can be summarized through a pivotal event.

I found myself glued to my iPad (yes, I am a proud card-holding member of the Digital Age Embracers Club) reading page after page of the book, waiting for that “a-ha” moment humans constantly seek. I followed the guidelines drawn out in Byrne’s collegiate, yet comforting style of writing. I’d wake up every morning hurling a “thank you” out to the universe for being alive and healthy, having an adoring (and highly patient) husband, a dear family and close friends I love with all my heart, and an all-around comfortable lifestyle with the added excitement of traveling abroad that I always sought as a child. Before falling asleep, I’d re-live my day in my head and say what I was grateful for in the past 24 hours, and if something didn’t happen to go my way, I’d think of a scenario where it did go well to counter-balance and purge the negativity.

As I further attempted to implement the teachings of “The Secret” into my daily life, I set my sights on my dream job. I wanted this job. I envisioned myself excelling at this job. I thought of how fulfilled professionally and personally I would be when I’d get hired for this job. I had it. I felt it. I lived it. I envisioned my future Facebook and Twitter status updates as: “Holy crap! Landed my dream job at [insert company name here]! Life is awesome!”

With this newfound positive worldview I gained from reading “The Secret,” I transformed myself into the type of optimist my former self would have loathed. My rose-colored glasses were not only stylish and affordable, they bounced back the warm energy I gained from the universe to those around me (a feat to say the least during a brutal winter).

One fantastic interview with my dream company led to a follow-up. Opportunity seemed to be knocking at my door and through the cold chill of the snow-covered ground I remained warm and enthusiastic! After weeks of waiting, my improved and positive transformation remained steadfast and secure.

As I awoke one morning, I checked my email to find a message from my dream company. This is it, I’m hired! Though I believed with every inch of my being that my positivity gained as a student of “The Secret” would be reflected through what surely was a job offer in my inbox, my heart couldn’t help but pound as if I was being chased by a crazed wolf, hungry for the blood of my highly-coveted potential future career.

Dear Sarah, (They remembered my name! That’s surely a good sign!)

Thank you for your interest in [insert dream company name here] and the time you spent interviewing with us (It was MY pleasure, thank YOU for appreciating my efforts and valuing me!). Unfortunately (Wait, what?) we were constrained by our current headcount (My head is proportionate, tiny by some standards, I’ll make it fit!) and are unable at this time to offer you a job… (Well shit)

So I didn’t get my dream job? How could this be? Byrne will all her Aussie goodness and army of Secret scholars instructed me to be positive and bounce warm thoughts and feelings into the universe so the universe could return the damn favor!

After a day of binge-crying, gorging on Twizzlers and milk chocolate, topped off with a solid dose of self-loathing prompted from the rejection (all the while envisioning Byrne shaking her head in disappointment), I came to really realize what the author had been trying to teach me all along. I understood that the positivity within me would remain, regardless of whether or not I secured this particular job. I remained humbled and honored that a company I dreamt of working at since I began studying journalism conducted two interviews with me and genuinely seemed to appreciate my character and skillset. The incomparable experience and confidence I gained as a result of the process are what I will carry with me for far longer than the typical lifespan of a job in today’s economy. And that, dear readers, is far more significant and worthy in my book.

So is life going to be rose-tinted, full of acceptance letters, unicorns, and impromptu Bollywood-esque song and dance all the time? Clearly not. But I’ll be ready for the universe when it goes through its time of the month with my shades on, overpriced latte in hand, all the while knowing that when the stars align, something better than a flanneled Brooklyn hipster is around the corner waiting for me.

This entry was written by Sarah, posted on at 1:00 am, filed under Uncategorized and tagged books, life, optimism, pessimism, Rhonda Byrne, The Secret. Leave a comment or view the discussion at the permalink.