Value and Funds

After three months of working at the Hilton, I've stumbled upon the first real problem with my job. I knew it would happen eventually. Unfortunately, I'm not sure its one that can be solved. My job is a status symbol. Here are my responsibilities:  make reservations, give my opinion. Do you know who else can do that? Anyone who has a telephone and an opinion. You know which departments are the most visible and accessible? The front desk and the bellmen. Do you know who also have telephones and opinions? The front desk and the bellmen. What does that leave for me? Hours of available blogging time.


Not that I'm complaining about my extra available time. I'm essentially be paid to do nothing while the bellmen and front desk do my job. However, my time and my talent level is worth way more than small amount I get paid every hour to stand at a desk and surf the web. My educated opinions and outstanding customer service ability is what got me hired at this job. What encouraged me to take the job was not the hourly pay, but the use of my talents and extra perks that should come with my job. None of that is really happening currently, nor is there any real appropriate way of expecting management to solve the dilemma. The best solution that could happen is to have a sign that says "Concierge" directing traffic to my desk.  I do not, however, expect this to happen in the near future.

The overlap of my private life and work life in regards to values is rather uncanny. The boy and I had a long serious conversation a few days about values and self worth that left me in tears and a wave of confusion. This conversation continued to my therapist's office the next day, concluding the following: self-value is a very confusing concept for me as I see something having value only when an outside source places a value on it, therefore, to the dismay of the boy and my therapist, leaving me lacking it.  With their awareness and guidance, my self-revelations have rapidly spiraled upward into a fast track to self confidence. My whirlpool was unnoticed before; forcibly unrecognized feelings of being used and unappreciated by my family pushed along with a certain level of emotional abuse has been gradually drawing me into a logical justification of my own lack of self worth. The simple, yet extraordinarily kind act of making me aware of this has quickly placed a stop on that drain, allowing my waters to settle and find their place. I have 23 years of talent and positive characteristics that went ignored by many of the people closest to me, and were certainly ignored by me. Rather than trying to be someone everyone else wanted me to be, I've decided to act upon the traits I already possess to bring about a foundation of identity and self value.  I am a kind, generous, and empathetic person. I'm intelligent and worth having around, in spite of my three months of possibly proving otherwise. With that said, I've decided I'm going to start volunteering for causes and organizations I value, namely, Austin Pets Alive! and Town Lake Animal Shelter while independently studying subjects I'm highly interested in.  In regards to my job, I think the boy and I have a nice talk coming up about ways to utilize our talents in a work environment in order to be more beneficial with our time and our relationship. 

Not a bad amount of change and growth for a 48 hour period, eh?

Dudes at the Hilton pop their collars.

As people check into a hotel, they simultaneously check their common sense at the door. As it is, silly things that don't occur in the normal world happen at a hotel.  For the sake of hotel employees around the world, please abide by the following rules to make your stay and their lives and little bit easier.

1) Tip the valets and bellman more than a couple of dollars.
If you weren't aware before now that valets and bellman make far below minimum wage per hour, now is the time to let that concept sink in. Tip, please. And tip well. They will judge you if you don't.

2) Be kind to the hotel staff.
If you're frustrated or angry, please refrain from yelling at the front desk girl. More than likely she is not the cause of your problem. However, she does have the power to fix the problem and maybe give you more than what you were asking for. What you don't realize is that hotel agents have the power to give away alot of free stuff, but they'll only do it if you're nice. So mind your manners, please.

3) Tip the house keepers.

She's cleaning up your mess and she is not your mother. The most you can do is give a couple dollars. 

4) Realize that hotels do in fact sell out and your honors standing doesn't make much difference. The following scenario happens more times that it ought to. Don't be this guy:
- Front desk agent to walk-in guest on a Saturday during football season: "I'm sorry sir, but we're sold out."
Gentleman to front desk agent: "I know, but I'm an honors member". I'm sorry, but we don't have rooms ad infinitum.

5) Use your concierge.
If the hotel you are staying in has a concierge, use them.  Ask questions, make reservations, get directions. Whatever. Use the concierge. The job of the concierge is simply to be knowledgeable and have connections. Even if you know exactly where you want to eat, have the concierge make the reservation for you. Chances are, you will get a reservation at exactly the time you want or get preferred seating and a free appetizer.If you call yourself, you may have to haggle on the reservation time and you certainly won't get a free appetizer.  The concierge has access to discounts galore and loads of free stuff. Take advantage of that situation.

6) Don't use abbreviations.
I don't ever want to hear this phrase, or anything similar, come out of anyone's mouths: "Yea I just talked to the concierge and got a res. at a rest. for the eve. I think its going to be fab. I'm from San Fran." Ew.

7) Take in your surroundings.
I realize that hotels are a big, wonderful place full of magic and surprises, but the ATM next to me with sign that says, "ATM", isn't a trick. Nor is the sign with arrows pointing to the restroom, restaurants in the hotel, and convention center, invisible. I don't mind answering your questions, but I think this little rule might save your ego.

8) Don't steal bell carts.
The bell carts aren't yours. They were not provided for your general use. The bell carts are bell carts. As in, for the use of the bellmen. You coming down to "just use the cart" is like going to a mechanic and wanting to "just use a wrench" to fix your own car.  Remember, bellmen will judge you.

9) If you have a problem, tell someone.
If your TV is broken, if you can't get hot water, if you're allergic to the pillows, tell someone. There are hundreds of rooms in the building that stay occupied and in use most nights. Things break and we're sorry, but we can't very well fix it if you don't tell someone right away. Telling us in an email two weeks after you check out or even on your way out the door doesn't allow us to solve the problem. Remember, we have free stuff.

10) Don't pop your collar.
 

I-35 and Redemption

I first want to apologize for the downtrodden demeanor of yesterday's posting. It was depressing to say the least, and I'm here to strive for a hopeful and lighthearted assurance.  With that said, I will progress with my posting.


I was driving down I-35 yesterday thinking about my troublesome life circumstances and how I needed to buy an iron. I looked across the 4 lanes full of cars and like a brick to the head I realized I wasn't the only person on the road. I wasn't the only person on the road. I wasn't the only person on the road. There were hundreds of other people on the highway, each one with their own life circumstances, their own problems, their own relationships, their own singleness, their own lives. I wasn't the only person on the road. It was like being an outsider looking into a fishbowl.  How silly I felt feeling as if my world was as large as the one we live in. My world is so small on the grand scheme of things.  I'm a speck of flour in a chocolate chip cookie made at Tiff's Treats. They make thousands of cookies. Thousands. I'm a piece of flour in one. Do you know how liberating this is? How filled with relief this idea makes me?  I can be happy knowing that the problems I need to solve are not problems of the universe at large. I do not need to fuel the production of all the cookies from Tiff's Treats as a speck of flour, nor is anyone expecting me to. I can do my part as flour to make that cookie dang good, but all the other flours, all the chocolate, all the butter... all y'all need to have some personal accountability and do your own part.

Actually, in the grand scheme of things, I'm a pretty lucky piece of flour. I wasn't dropped on the floor, leaving me unwanted and all-purpose-less.  I was wanted for the cookie. Maybe I decided to back out at the last minute because I was afraid of the oven, or because I felt responsible for ensuring that the snicker doodle cookies were going to be tasty. Chocolate chip gave me a second chance when I realized I don't even really like snicker doodle and am absolutely happiest being with chocolate chip. 

Chocolate chip cookies.

Last night's dinner was one of the most difficult to get through. We ate at Trulucks to celebrate the completion of a class that the boy had been working incredibly hard on.  I was proud of him and wanted to spend the evening enjoying each others company at one of my favorite restaurants downtown.  The service was great, the seafood fresh, the steaks... oh the steaks. The 16 oz ribeye Chimichurrie style with a horseradish-goat cheese over garlic mash potatoes couldn't be beat. It was this intimate, delicious setup which made it all the more painful to endure such an emotionally tormenting evening.   The buckets of words that went missing were replaced by tears and frown wrinkles and the false excitement we both put on when the server came our direction.  Whatever switch that had switched needed to be switched back.  It was so sudden, so unexpected, that there really wasn't much hope for redemption of the evening.  The rest of the night was followed by questions of the security of our future together, escape plans, and more tears.  I finally had the realization that I may not win this battle.  For months I thought that if I fixed me, fixed my daddy issues, and fixed my communication style, I could win this. I would win this. I knew it would take time. I read books, took on a therapist, moved back in, gave up old friends, and started a new job. I thought that if I just stayed patient and kept trying, I would get what I want. If I was honest, I would get what I want. I would get loving looks from the boy again. I would get the "I love you"'s back.  I would get the security and comfort and maybe, just maybe one day get the trust that I'm not sure was ever there. If I did all the right things, I would get what I want. I would get my love back.

I'm probably not going to get what I want.  I'm afraid the reservations he has are a mountain too high to bring down.  There is no security, no trust, and probably no love. Instead, there's a sinking emptiness in the pit of my stomach. There's hopelessness. There's fear. There's loss. But there are also chocolate chip cookies from Trulucks in the fridge that I'm about the indulge, as well a therapy session on Saturday morning.  Things may change tomorrow, but for tonight, I'll focus on the cookies.

Reservations:

Reservations are a funny thing. Google says it's "the act of reserving something". Google also says it's "an arrangement whereby something, esp. a seat or room, is booked or reserved for a particular person". My life, currently, is a revolving door of reservations.  In January, I did something I will forever regret. I left behind all my reservations, and landed myself in a situation wishing I hadn't. The affair left me confused, lost, and missing the person I loved the most. However, I am the luckiest girl and was wanted for another chance. While working things out with the boy is, more often than not, frustrating, disheartening, and scary, the reward of an unconditional love, even with its flaws, and the journey of self discovery and growth is worth it.

This growth, however, is not without its own set of growing pains and reservations. Notably, the boys, but in his position, who wouldn't have mountains and mountains of reservations? Working things out with the girl who left you two months before you were suppose to be married isn't a piece of cake, nor is it a boost to your self-esteem.  The constant turmoil of self-identification, values, and expectations post-affair can often feel like a blowtorch to both parties lives. However, I have learned more in the last two months (with lots and lots of help from a therapist) about myself, my tendencies, my influences, and my own values than I have in the past 22 years. I hope this trend continues.

As that revolving door between life and work spins on, I deal with another kind of reservation: the second kind Google has to offer. I am a concierge at the largest hotel in downtown Austin. I make countless reservations for my guests to restaurants, tours, events, shows, whatever, every day.  Its rather ironic, no? You make reservations through the girl who lost hers.  You get directions from a girl who had none.  Little do you know, this concierge in the cute suit, black pumps, and fresh bob hair cut, is on the upside of a quarter life crisis. Still want my opinion?

Why of course you do! Because, with the help of a patient therapist, supportive mother, and loving boy, I know who I am, what I value, and what I like. And what I like is food. So get ready readers, many of our conversations will be about sushi covered in strawberries, steaks with Gorgonzola cream sauce, pounds and pounds of chocolate cake, and other such delicacies. For you, this blog is about the stories of a hotel concierge. For me, it's about therapy, self identity, and hopefully, aiding other poor such wandering souls to feel hopeful when feeling hopeless, happy when sad, or lucky to be alive when everything seems to be crumbling. If all that fails you and you still find yourself hopeless, sad, and unlucky, I hope I can at least guide you to some good comfort food.

To the boy, everything is for you.