Blog Archives

Why Business? (Bonus Vlog Inside)

A few ideas in question form were provided to me in the comments of last Friday’s post in attempt to give me blog fuel. A few of them got my engine revving.

Aneroidocean asked a particularly meaty question: Why did you decide to be a business student? What’s your ultimate goal? If you want to go normal “career” type thing and not start your own business eventually tell us that. If the career type job is just in order to get your loans paid off and then start your own business, tell us about that.

Well, I decided to enter the world of exciting business in mid 2007. I took the leap from Performing Arts to Marketing. I basically played pin the tail on the major. The only hole I had in my blindfold was the knowledge that my father had a business degree, and he seemed to have done just swell in his life.

Throughout college, I always had an idea fermenting in the back of my mind about opening my own business. As a teenager, and up until the day I quit dancing, I was sure and determined that I was going to open my own dance studio to teach, choreograph, and mold young dancers. I also wanted a big space in which to do cartwheels, but that’s beside the point. And cartwheels are gymnastics anyway, not dance. So, with my supreme logic, I concluded that I could converge the two schools of thought (performing arts and business) to open that studio.

Then reality decided to tap me on the left shoulder while standing on my right side so I wouldn’t see where it was coming from.

I went through the motions and graduated. I gave up on dance, because there wasn’t time for it all. I became complacent. My aspirations for opening my own studio had turned into aspirations for an easy job with sufficient pay. I somehow became content with the idea of being a suit. Or should I say a woman’s pantsuit. I also imagined I would find ample use for one of these in the near future (thanks for the idea Rich):

boob apron

Now you can buy TWO items instead of just buying a higher cut shirt in the first place!

So there I was, all ready to do the normal job thing. I applied for Marketing jobs here and there and nothing was snagging. So, I went with the first job that gave me an interview even though it had nothing to do with Marketing. It didn’t matter. Firstly, I was still experiencing the no-more-school-for-me-ever-in-life-yay euphoria. Secondly, like I said, the vision of my own business let alone a dance studio was long gone from my head. Give me some pencil skirts and some data entry, and I was all good.

Until I wasn’t. Somewhere after that, I snapped out of it and into a drastically different mindset. I want to see my own ideas brought to fruition. I want to build something that is all mine. Sort of like this blog, but on a much bigger scale. Feel me?

So, to fully answer the latter part of Aneroidocean’s question, yes, I do hope to eventually have my own business. It may not be filled with ballet bars and stage moms, but it will be something of pride. Luckily for me, my college was paid for via scholarships and TOPS, so I don’t have to lug around the weight of student loan debt. I have nothing stopping me from choosing exactly what I want to do, and I am no longer scared of the waters. I’m next in line for the diver’s block.

Investors interested in funding my success can send money to 555 Thisisnotascam Ln. NY, NY 55555.

And now… a V-V-V-VLOG. Maddie Cochere asked what I keep in my closet last week. Let’s just say I found a few interesting things.

becca cord signature

Hanging Up The Tutu

If you follow my blog regularly, you know I don’t get serious too often. Ever, really. A lot of bloggers are naturals at this stuff, but it is actually a real challenge for me to write about something serious, especially when it is about me. Humor is safe for me, while anything outside of that realm makes me feel extremely vulnerable. But, with everything going on during the week of a Becca on Fire, I not only have a little extra confidence in my fingertips, but I also feel that it is the perfect opportunity to open up a bit to my readers. So, here goes my attempt to inspire.

Before I began writing this post, I sat with a blinking cursor on the left side of my screen and the “about me” page of my blog on the right side of the screen.

I’m only good at funny. That’s what I do. It is easy to be funny. For me. Shit, this is going to be more of a challenge than I thought. I can’t even inspire Jack to poop inside the litter box, so what can I possibly have to write about inspiration? Oh well, just write.

After all of that staring, I noticed something about how I describe myself. Take a look at my “about me” page. I begin by proudly acknowledging a very important part of what makes me Becca. I was a dancer.

becca cord in a tutu

Before I was writing I was a confectionery delight in pointe shoes.

For seventeen years, I was first and foremost, a dancer. Make that a great dancer. A passion that consumes you for such a long period of time is hard to shake and even harder to accept that you must shake, which was apparent by the blurb I’d written. So, I guess I should more accurately say that what I was looking at was a statement about what used to make me Becca.

Before anyone ever put the notion in my head that making a profession of performing arts was “impractical,” I never thought twice about any other course for my life. I entered college as a dance major, was an important member of the college dance team, and had every intention of performing until my age got the best of me (at which point I planned to teach). Everyone knew me as the dancer even if they didn’t know me at all. That is how integral it was to my identity.

After about a year in college, I began to realize that the performing arts program I was in was not up to par with my experience level. This is not a case of my comedic ego either, the program was simply a joke. A cop-out for lazy freshmen who would rather mock an art form than write an essay. On top of that, my parents continually dropped not-so-subtle hints that I may want to consider a different calling. Something more lucrative.

It infuriated me that they didn’t get it. Get me. It infuriated me even more that I pretty much had no other option but to drop the program because of its lack in advancement. It was holding me back as a dancer. It infuriated me, because everyone would think I gave up on my passion to become an office drone (at the thought of which nauseated me).

snoopy in business

Street art doesn’t lie.

Before I knew it, I was a performing arts drop-out and a month from being another indifferent graduate of the school of business. What happened? I over analyzed every incoming external influence telling me to cash out before I lost big, that’s what happened. That, stirred together with my own doubts and insecurities as a dancer. I didn’t want to start over at a new university, but I also couldn’t stay enrolled in the Ballet 101 classes that I took when I was three years old.

I had  become the one thing that I had almost forgotten I’d sworn not to be, Miss play-it-safe.  Sure, I’d find a job. That job would pay well enough for me to live as comfortably as I always have. People would see me as “successful”, but I wouldn’t stop thinking, “Is this it?”. I would eventually become that forty-year-old woman still bragging about how many pirouettes she could do twenty years ago while shamefully dodging conversation about her soul draining day job.

So, back to my “about me” page. Obviously, even five years since I have laced a pointe shoe, I am still coming to terms with “dancer” no longer being my main identifier. While I still have strong emotions associated with that time in my life, l do not regret the way everything panned out. I’ll tell you why. Then you can forget that I ever wrote anything so comically disappointing and go back to envisioning me in my underwear.

You see, had I not experienced this loss, I wouldn’t be here writing this. That’s right, I am tying this into writing, because that wasn’t predictable at all. The fact of it all, is that I could have made a career out of dance, but then I would have never known the dispassionate alternative that I experienced for several years after stepping out of that studio for the last time.

It is my strong belief that I would have eventually become complacent and dropped my dancing career out of pure inability to truly appreciate my love for it. I have been writing again for almost a year now, and because of this, I have the appreciation for writing that I never knew how to have for dance. And now I know what it is like to lose it.

So, while I no longer see dance in my future, what I do see in my future is a passion that is equally as important to me in a different way. Think of it in terms of relationships. You love and you lose. Those losses teach you to appreciate love for what it is. You then find love again in places that you never expected. You become enthralled again when you thought you never would. This time, you know to hold on to it. You know not to abandon it or take it for granted. And you won’t.

becca cord signature

Fake It ‘Till You Make It Via Vistaprint

free business card

Get it? F-O-L-L-O-W-ing up. Sometimes I am so cheesy clever it hurts.

[Vistaprint is a sweet site where you can design and order 250 free business cards. All you pay for is shipping. The free cards have a somewhat limited variety of designs to choose from, but hey, it’s free and if you are as clever as me (sarcasm alert) then you don’t need fancy graphics or anything over the top to get someone’s attention. And that makes for a good first impression. If you can’t think of your own shameless cute puns and want to go for the fancy stuff, you can get out your wallet too. Just don’t forget to try these coupons. You’re welcome.]

We have all heard the phrase. What does it really mean to “fake it ’till you make it”?

Let me begin by explaining that when I initially graduated from college, I had absolutely no notion of what I was looking for career wise. I only knew that I needed money. I didn’t care where it came from as long as I no longer had to serve chips and salsa and the job title didn’t include the prefix “tele”. Although, I would imagine becoming a teleport-er might be a pretty fun position if it existed.

Luckily, it didn’t take me long to realize exactly what I wanted my career path to involve. My passion (wild right?). That passion being for writing/blogging, through which I also became fascinated with social media marketing. Boom. Success here I come, right? Well, there was just one problem. I had less faith in myself as a writer than I had in becoming the next Celine Dion.

First, I had to muster up some hope. Adding in a little determination and perseverance, I eventually emerged at a different mindset. That is where the whole fake it ’till you make it idea came in. The inspiration behind this adage is that it helps to manifest confidence. Confidence, in turn, produces positive results towards achieving goals. I got to thinking about some of the things that help people exude confidence. One of those things is credentials. I can tell everyone I meet that I am a writer, but the truth is that people like tangible stuff.

hoard keep a lot of business cards. You never know who you might want or need to contact in the future. I keep them all safely jammed in my wallet so that I can access them at anytime. If only there were some sort of technology that could store all of these contacts for me. Anyway, upon opening my wallet one day in search of cash that is never there, I noticed my bulge of cards. I thought, “that’s exactly what I need to give myself some confidence” – aside from a fake Journalism or English diploma. While I do have a degree and experience in Marketing, I certainly do not have a specialized piece of paper that says I am a certified writing machine. That would be too convenient.

I remember when I was a sales and marketing intern for a start-up web company a few years back. During sales pitches, the flash and/or exchange of the business card meant you were the real deal and always helped me act a little smoother. So, who says that I can’t have a 3.5″x2″ piece of stock paper that includes the title of writer? After all, I do write, and this blog is proof of that. So, I began my mission to create my own business card. Funny the power such a small piece of paper can hold. The moment I gave out that first card, it all seemed possible.

Do you think faking it ’till you make it is legitimate advice worth taking? Why or why not?

becca cord signature

How I Knew My Mother Was Always Right

In lieu of Mother’s Day this past Sunday…

mothers: even when they're wrong... they're right

It always bewilders me just how much (with every inch of my soul) I deeply believed that my mother was always so wrong. Although I’d always heard the adage, “mom knows best,” I convinced myself every time that her conservative old world  thinking and new world culture bias was preventing her from thinking clearly. It is perfectly fine to give out my address over the internet. I don’t need a more practical degree. Love is all that matters in a relationship.

False. What isn’t false is that the proverb is true for a reason. My mother, along with all the other moms of the world, has a special secret weapon. Guess what? She has lived many more years than her offspring. She has lived, failed, learned, and gone to figure it out a little better the next time. Now, I am not saying that everything moms say is the holy grail of advice, or that when she tells you cats make better friends than humans, that you should clean out the pound of all things feline. I also understand not all moms are created equally. I am simply acknowledging that they know stuff. More stuff than I do at least. Either way, these are just a few of the ways I had to face the dreadful and horribly humbling thought revelation… my mom was right. Read the rest of this entry

From AIM to CSS

Matrix Computer Program
Aside from my love of writing, I have a somewhat equal love of manipulating technology (well trying at least) and computers specifically to do and create cool things. I forgot about this passion until recently. It occurred when I was reminiscing about my childhood. When I was on the brink of becoming a teenager, my parents bestowed me with my first personal computer. It was a lavish Christmas present and a Compaq (yuck). At first, I was only stoked for one thing. The thing that all us youngsters crazed over at that time. AOL. More specifically, AIM (AOL Instant Messenger). If you are in your twenties, you know what’s up.

After attempting several different screen names (unfortunately every possible combination of HotChick plus a random set of numbers was already assigned), I finally found an available name and set up my buddy list. Can you imagine if those e-mail addresses stuck with us for life? How awful. Anyway, after weeks of disobeying bed time and holding  ridiculously long chats consisting of nothing but emoticons and various clever laughable “away” messages, I was becoming bored with AIM. I began to explore the inner caves of the internet. I started a blog without even knowing I was blogging. I created myself a flashy diaryland.com account. Of course, the only one reading my nonsensical blabbing was me.

Actually, thinking back on it, I remember being more in to other aspects of the site apart from just writing. Read the rest of this entry

%d bloggers like this: