Conquering email

I started to type this up as a series of Facebook posts, but I realized that I have quite a bit to say on this topic, so I believe it merits a blog entry.

I recently figured out on my own how to separate out my to do list from my email inbox. I was a little worried that it's a bit too time consuming, but now that I have verification that it's a good system, I will fret no longer.

The article does not expressly state this (probably because it's not written exclusively for users of Outlook), but it's very easy to drag and drop an email into the Tasks pane, turning it into a task. I then edit the task as necessary. 

And if there is a series of actions involved or some follow-up calls to be made before it's completed, I simply edit the task and add that info in at the top. I then drag the original email to a folder called Tasks To Do so that when I need to follow up with the requester, I know where to find the email.  

Then what do you do with the emails, you might ask. Do you just delete them? The task is done, so why not, right? No! Accountability, people! I have a terrible, awful, no good memory, which is why I started journaling, and is also why I save a record of every task I complete. If I'm asked a couple weeks later if I did something, I very well may not remember, even if I did do it.

Another Lifehacker article suggests employing a folder called Hold:

...a temporary holding pen for important messages you'll need quick access to within the next few days. If you're waiting on someone else to get back to you with crucial information, or you're maintaining a thread about a time-sensitive topic, keep it in the Hold folder. ... Examples: a FedEx confirmation number for a delivery that's on its way, or a message from a co-worker that says, "I'll get back to you Tuesday re: The Big Project."

That's a new one for me. I think I'm going to start employing that. I normally just keep those in my inbox and they annoy me because they just sit there and then they fall beneath the fold and cause clutter. Hold folder it is!

The rest of that post is about putting everything that's done into one big Archive folder, which I think is going to cause a big headache later on that can easily be avoided with a bit of one-time organization.

Email yes, desk not so much...

I have about 20 folders in Outlook that are saved onto a shared server NOT my own hard drive. (As you can probably guess, I learned that the hard way.) Some are on specific projects/tasks (like app, intranet, redesign, social media). Others are more just buckets of places to save things off: Eloqua FYI, how to, personnel (promotion or re-org announcements, etc. that I may need to refer to later on).

I also have a Done folder with sub folders containing the most common types of tasks I complete. This may seem excessive, but I always have a record of what I have completed.

I suppose you could just save off everything into one massive archive and search for it, but more often than not, I need to browse the folder containing the bit of info I'm seeking. Plus, I set those folders up years ago and they have barely changed, so it's not like it's a huge imposition to archive an email into the appropriate archive folder.And if a project ends, I can simply save that whole folder off into an Archive folder.

What is amusing about all this organization, of course, is that to look at my desk at work you'd be shocked to learn that I put this much time into organizing my email in-box. But believe me, if I could Shift-Ctrl-V each receipt, menu, and print-out someone gave me that has notes scribbled on it, I absolutely would.

Next up, I will talk about how I've stopped using a notebook at work.

Unofficial study

For as long as I can remember I have struck up conversations with strangers. More often than not, I get a disinterested response and I regret opening my mouth. And yet I continue to do it. I can't help it. I see something unusual happen on the street that a passer-by witnesses as well and I am compelled to remark on our joint experience.

Maybe it's my southern upbringing that leads me to instead of being wary of strangers to look to them as potential conversation partners. I should conduct a study of whether chats with strangers are more likely to be fruitful in Virginia than in NYC.

A study I have conducted in great detail is of chivalry. There is not much chivalry to be found in the NYC area.

Case in point: I have devised a system for getting the best standing spot on my commuter train. It's only a 22-minute ride and I sit all day long so I don't mind standing at all; in fact I enjoy it. But I prefer to lean against the door instead of hold on to a pole so that both my hands are free to hold my book.

I could rush onto the train when it arrives in the station and hope to get a spot against the door on the opposite side of the car. But instead I hold back and get on last so that I can lean against the door I enter.

Almost always it's no problem at all to board last. Until today. A man stood aside and motioned for me to enter the train before him. It was not his plan to lean against the door. He was just being chivalrous. He entered the car after me and took a spot a few feet from me. I leaned against the door.

A few moments later I tapped him on the shoulder and said, "So few people are actually chivalrous anymore -- like you were. You see, I have this system, which works because everyone rushes onto the train car..." And I told him my system.

He smiled and said he was glad it worked out and we both went back to reading our books.

Just before his stop he tapped me on the arm and said, "thanks for telling me about that. You really made my day."

And that, my friends, made MY day.

Submerging the chatter

I recently learned about a Buddhist meditation technique called vipassana, which is basically saying to yourself over and over what you are doing at that moment. It can be used when doing walking mediation. So, you can say "walking walking walking" as you walk. You can also say "looking" or "seeing," whichever word works for you. I prefer "looking" because it's when I'm noticing something in particular. It's a more active word than "seeing," at least in my thinking.

When I'm done looking at a particular object I go back to saying "walking." Sometimes I change it up and I say "feet feet" and center my concentration on my feet. I notice how my feet strike the pavement, whether any part of my toes are feeling rubbed by my shoes, the sound of my footfalls.

Speaking of noise, I also really enjoy switching it up to "listening listening." I have discovered that when I focus on listening with an open mind, the world around me sounds different and I hear all sorts of things I'm not sure that I would notice otherwise.

I really like the effect these techniques have on quieting the chatter in my head. On one hand, I wish I could simply turn down the chatter and be done with it. But I can't make that happen without assistance right now. And it turns out that this type of mediation turns those voices right off.

Apparently some people who practice this meditation will allow their thoughts to wander and then they will simply silently chant "thinking" when they notice that happening. That doesn't really work for me because when I'm doing this exercise I prefer to not allow my mind to wander. So when it does I calmly steer my thoughts back to the chanting right away.

Vipassana is so effective that I can do it almost anywhere and even better if I'm able to close my eyes.

I was on the train headed to Brooklyn yesterday evening and there was a lot of chatter. So I closed my eyes and checked in with various parts of my body. I silently spoke to each part of my body and focused on how that body part felt. When I got to body parts that felt like they were not calm, I stopped on them and I spoke gently to them. "Forehead, I get that you're tense right now. Do you want to try relaxing a little bit?" That sort of thing. I have never spoken to my body like that before, but at the time it just seemed like a good idea.

I have to say: it REALLY worked. I opened my eyes after a little while and felt completely relaxed and no longer tense in any way. I calmly looked out the window then and saw my local stop whizzing by. While in my trance, I had missed the announcement about the train switching from a local C to an express A. Damnit! All sense of calm disappeared in an instant.

Vietnam, briefly

I wrote this over the course of a 5 day trip to Saigon.

Jeff and I have decided that it's like finding a 4-leaf clover if we spot 5 people riding a scooter. So far we've only seen 4 at once and some unusual loads including: a tree, 100 balloons, a bookshelf, 4 large bags of coconuts, 8 wooden folding chairs, 6 milk crates full of bottles. 

All adults wear helmets on mopeds, but kids do not. Just hats. Hardly any local women wear skirts. I suppose this is for practical reasons given the main mode of transport. The daily uniform for many older women seems to be pajamas. I guess that's the local version of the leisure suit. 

The CDC says to avoid street food, but we've chosen to ignore this advice. So far so good. We've had some incredible soups costing about a dollar a piece. 

Per Anthony Bourdain's advice we also went to "snail street" and had delicious seafood at an open air restaurant called Lucky. I'd never had cockles before so I wasn't sure if the fact that none of the shells were open was a bad sign. They tasted so good, though! And neither of us got sick so who knows. I guess we got lucky! Beers there were $0.50 a piece and we sat at a kids table on kids chairs just like all the locals. 

Gambling on cards is big here. Seems to be popular with all ages and is even done at family gatherings. 

Nose picking in public is rampant. 

Update: I saw two motos carrying 5 people and one with 6! Three adults, 3 kids. 

We took a day trip to the Mekong Delta, which was super touristy. I can't really say it was worth it, especially when we heard from some Australians that on the Cu Chi tunnels tour they got to shoot AK-47s. I didn't want to do that tour because I knew I wouldn't want to crawl through narrow underground tunnels. Oh well. 

People do still wear the conical hats, although mainly just people working outdoors.

Out of the comfort zone

On Sunday I went on the treetop walk at MacRitchie reservoir. The portion of the walk in the trees is pretty short (although quite picturesque) and the rest of the walk is uphill on the way there and downhill on the way back. Needless to say, my calves are killing me. It's a good hurt, though.

There is so much to hear in the forest. I wanted to just stand still and listen at times (and rest!) but then a group would come along behind me being so loud, one even carrying a radio. I can't understand why you'd want to bring your own soundtrack to a tropical forest.

At one point I had paused beside a freshwater stream and two British women came along. One saw a bug and screamed and then the other screamed. Instantly the noise in the trees around me picked up to a much more intense shriek. It was like all the insects and frogs and whatever else were complaining about the ruckus. After the women passed by, the wildlife quieted back down.

When walking around Singapore there is a little moment every time I spot another white person and I know it's not just me because I have noticed many whites looking right at me, almost quizzically. I know they are thinking the same thing I am: where are you from and how did you wind up here? This gaze is held even longer when the encounter occurs outside of touristy areas.

Note: this is not the case if the whites are carrying maps in their hands. It's only when each white person clearly knows where she's headed and is wearing business attire (ie, not a tourist, although I have caught tourists looking at me with the gaze). It's not like there are so few whites, but we're definitely in the minority. And it's not even as if the others are American!

It's a strange thing. It's one of those things that's difficult to describe and you won't entirely believe me until you are in a similar situation.

It's the same way you can tell someone that it takes living in another country for at least a couple months to really appreciate that you are really and truly an American. So many of us believe that we don't belong in the US, that we're European, especially, at heart. But if you ask most anyone who has lived abroad for some time they will tell you that it was a wonderful experience and it was a bit of reverse culture shock to come back but they did realize they are American through and through. Try it. Ask around. There will be exceptions, of course.

My motto is to try anything once

Christmas is huge in Singapore even though only half the country is Christian. Equally big is Chinese new year, which is coming up next week. Various celebratory foods and clothes, mainly for kids, are for sale everywhere.

I pass a construction site on my way to the train every day. When I came home at 9pm last night, I heard clanging and banging in there. I wonder if it's being worked on all night long.

Yong Tau Foo

This morning I took the small road next to the building as usual. A forklift zoomed by and a cherry picker was slowly maneuvering into place. Several men were walking across the road carrying heavy loads. I asked one man if it was still okay to go that way. He nodded in the affirmative and pointed the way. I walked quickly beneath the cherry picker and made my way to the station. I guess the onus is on the pedestrian to determine if it's safe to walk there?

I am in love with Australian nectarines. Oh man are they ever juicy and sweet. So far every day I have eaten two for breakfast along with some sort of soft bread thing from a bakery. The bakeries are everywhere. They sell these soft breads with a variety of toppings such as ham & cheese or coconut cream and chocolate sprinkles. My favorite so far have been the cheesy ones because they're a bit salty.

Would you guess that dried figs are good? I would not but I took a chance. And they are very good! I guess they are what's in Fig Newtons, but I'm not particularly fond of those, I think because they are too cakey.

I really miss knives. It doesn't help that often the chicken is hacked into pieces that include bones. And yet one is expected to dissect it with a fork and spoon.

The other day I got a soup at a place called Yong Tau Foo that was very delicious. You pick out the ingredients with a pair of tongs and then the proprietor puts them into a noodle soup for you (after you choose which type of noodle you want). There's no meat, just seafood, tofu and vegetables. I thought it was pretty great but come to find out this is a style of soup and there are way better stands that sell it. I can't wait to try the best one.

Beef stew

When I told my trainee (a Chinese Singaporean) that I liked the soup he replied, "Okay only lah." That means "meh" as best as I can tell. Or, in other words, he doesn't think much of the soup place I went to. Singaporeans say "lah" a lot. It means pretty much anything and is perhaps akin to the Canadian "eh?"

The other day I went to the Hungry Hippo for lunch with some coworkers. We sat down and a waitress brought menus and took drink orders. Today I went back because I was told the the beef stew special on Wednesdays is not to be missed. I sat down in the corner and proceeded to be ignored. I finally flagged down the waitress. She said "you sit here?!", laughed, and walked away. Frustrated, I got up and walked to the cashier. "I'd like to order the beef stew to stay." "Do you have a table?" "Yes!" "Well go sit down." I have no idea what I did wrong there but so what because that beef stew was indeed to die for.

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In 2010 I did a 365 photo project where I managed to take photos 350 days out of the 365. In 2011 I made a more ambitious attempt to record a short video every day. That wound up being simply too hard to accomplish, so I gave up. I missed this challenge, so this year I'm trying something new. I'm doing a photo collage every day. So far, I'm really liking this challenge, but I'm only a week in (I started a couple days late). The idea is to have the photos be more a day in the life sort of snapshot. Stay tuned to see how it evolves.

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Entries on my previous month-long stint in Singapore start here.

Escape to Indonesia

I took a ferry over to Batam, Indonesia, on Saturday. The boat sped between the huge oil tankers anchored around Singapore Bay.

Tree house room

Shortly after arriving, I saw a giant lizard crossing the road right in front of the taxi! The driver had to stop the car so that the huge lizard could waddle across the road. I thought was a Komodo Dragon, but apparently they are quite rare and that is unlikely.

I stayed at a resort with 8 rooms, one of which is the tree house room. I decided to splurge and stay in that one and I'm so glad I did. The bed is suspended from the ceiling and I was rocked to sleep. I'm not sure it would be as enjoyable with two people making it rock every time one person moved, however.

I got a deal on a couples spa package so instead of 3 hours of spa time I got all 6 hours. This may have been a tad too much spa time, but I can't say I regret it at all. On Saturday afternoon I got a Balinese massage, a facial, and a scalp massage. The scalp one is meant to do something for your hair. I don't know if it did, nor do I really care because the real reason I chose it is was for the washing and massaging.

On Sunday I had a shiatsu massage, a hot compress massage and a body scrub. I had never had shiatsu before. I'm definitely a fan of it now. It poured that day so instead of getting a tour of the island, I was taken to the mega-mall. As you can imagine, it's all relative just how mega it is.

The Indonesian rupiah coins feel like play money. I think they might be made of plastic. At an actually mega grocery store in the basement of the mall I bought a sackful of tasty snacks that cost me $3.50 US. They sell dourian cookies. I wonder if it's illegal to bring dourian cookies on the train in Singapore like it's illegal to bring a whole dourian.

At a traffic light in Batam there were signs that count down how many seconds are left before it changes red and green. So useful!

Settling in in Singapore

Takeaway boxes are cardboard with a big sheet of plastic laid inside. You then wrap it around the food. This is probably less likely to leak than those stupid styrofoam containers. 

I am staying in a sort of compound in a condo that has seen better days. The plus sides are that there are 4 pools on the compound and a private washer and dryer. And the condo has 2 bathrooms, which is certainly a luxury, although not so much until Jeff arrives. I wish I had brought my running stuff because there is a trail as well. I thought I was kidding myself in thinking that I'd spend any time exercising. Hell, I probably still am. 

There isn't a lot near the compound except for a small hawker center (8 stands), an even smaller hawker center (3 stands), a small grocery store, a yogurt store that has not yet been open, and a bread store where I bought a package of chocolate bread (hot dog buns with a little bit of chocolate sprinkles and cream inside). Everything looks the same around the compound. Two of the three times I went out I walked exactly the opposite direction I thought I was going.

At the hawker center last night was a family with 3 young kids and a woman who must have been the auntie (nanny). The parents were rather manic while the auntie was completely calm. The father told her to grab a high chair for the youngest child, which she did. The toddler refused and she put it back. I guarantee the auntie knew it was fruitless. I know the culture of having a live-in nanny in a tiny apartment is the norm here but I still have a hard time accepting it. 

I learned yesterday that men are called uncle, no matter the age of either party. I gather it's instead or "sir" and no doubt less formal. 

The commute to the office is about 45 mins -- a bit more of a hike than the 20 mins it took when I stayed in a hotel right downtown last time. 

No one would ever try bubble tea on looks and description alone. I'm thinking you have to be told it's good by someone you trust. I ponder how gross tapioca pearls look every time I eat them. 

Christmas music is still playing all over Singapore. It's January 2nd. How long will this go on?! Enough already!

Pedicures are not cheap here. I guess the nail salons know they'll always be in demand in a place where it's always summer. I was handed a magazine to read while I got my calluses soaked off (magical! But the product would set me back $50 so I'm not sure I'm that desperate to soak them off myself at home). I read a magazine called Her World, which is published here in Singapore. The ads feature primarily white women, though. One for Lancôme described a special formulation specially for Asian skin, alongside a photo of Julia Roberts. 

I walked all over the Ion Orchard mall this evening searching for the sushi place I fell in love with last time. I finally found it and naturally it was not as good as I remembered.

My college major, for better or for worse

If you returned (or went, if you've never been) to college to study anything you want, what would you major in, and why? (This is another Reverb Broads entry.)

I often lament that I didn't go to college for something "practical." I jokingly blame my parents for not making me study something more practical, although of course, unlike the people whose parents really did do that, I'm quite glad that mine let me choose my own destiny.

I remember visiting both the career counselor at school as well as a private one my parents hired, so surely one of them touted the merits of studying something "practical." I keep putting that word in parentheses because in essence an English degree IS practical. How lucky I am to have the benefit of going through life seeing grammatical and spelling errors everywhere I look! And think of all the books I had the benefit of reading in a classroom that other people had to muddle through on their own. I didn't have to take any complicated math classes. So what if I have no idea what a quadratic equation is. Would that really help me in my life today?

In the event that someone had sat me down and said, "look, here, missy: You are welcome to major in English (with a side of French) if you choose. But do keep in mind that your major will shape where you wind up after college," I'm not sure I would have reacted favorably. I probably would have been even MORE likely to study English and French.

And, frankly, it's pretty neat that I got to get a bachelor's degree in reading, writing, and talking about what I read. It almost seems too good to be true, at least for someone who enjoys those things (which I do). And, since I did an interdepartmental major of French and English, I was able to spend my junior year in Montpellier, France, which was one of the most amazing years of my life. So there you have it. I would not change anything about my major. I'm glad we cleared that up!

Self-Portrait

I have used this photo on many websites as my avatar. I feel as if I should retire it since it is 10 or 11 years old at this point. But I just love the way I look in it. My face is thinner. My eyes are just the right amount of squinty. My hair is curling in just the right way. My hair is also the perfect length on me. My cheeks are a little rosy as they tend to be, but not full on red as they get sometimes.

I don't remember the exact occasion, but I do recall that I was out with some people who I have lost touch with who used to be my very best friends. We had a huge falling out that left a sour taste in my mouth for many years. But frankly, at the time, they were a bright spot in my life and we had tons of fun together. I was single and this group of friends (usually the 4 of us) would go out a lot and stay out too late and we were so incredibly silly together. It's hard to even explain it because I could tell you that we had all these hilarious inside jokes and you'd say, sure, all groups of friends have those. I'd tell you that we would create all these crazy characters and you'd just look at me weird and I'd say "never mind" because I could not explain it. And I don't even remember exactly. I just remember the feeling. It was fun. It was so fun. And this picture exemplifies that. The irony is that my friendship with them ended in a firey furnace, but I guess it had to burn out somehow.


(This is a Reverb post. Topic: Self-Portrait: Post a picture of you that you like, write about yourself, post a video - what do you want your self-portrait to say about you?)