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On Dying Well

H-band's aunt Cynthia came over for dinner the other night. Cynthia does what she calls hospice care and what I call God's work. When my Dad was sick I found even the first day of caring for him draining, more emotionally than physically.

"What I do is really no big deal," Cynthia said to us over dinner. "Anyone can do it--care for people before they transition. But we've lost the knowledge of how."

I do believe that American society, specifically, has stigmatized death and dying to the point of making it distasteful.

Think negotiating for more money is petty? Hope you like your job

My latest on BlogHer. Yep, women get paid less, but we also ask for less.

Thanks Wayne!: My interview on Blog Talk Radio

Wayne, you ask really good questions. As for me, two words: Chatty Cathy. To listen to our hour-long chat about the challenges of soloing. Check out Wayne Hurlbert's radio program on Blog Talk Radio. We talk about Living without a Net, Entrepreneurial Sins, and BlogHer. It was a pleasure!

The Severance

  I met my husband in a personal development seminar. His significant other had suggested he go, and to save their relationship he thought he should. I went because my company sent me. We had no intention of meeting "the one," at that seminar and we didn't date for years after that. People ask me if I knew back then that we'd be married. All I can remember, I'm afraid, was his hair.

I had been sitting behind him for a good portion of the time, and I remember wishing that my hair would spiral like his did when in a ponytail.

Now, I was never a Fabio-loving type. I never harbored fantasies of running my hands through my lover's long, luxurious hair. But something about this man's ponytail was very much a turn on. The jeans and the Converse, on the other hand, just screamed to me, college bait, and, well, I always dated older men.

Two years later, when we bumped into each other at a party and he asked me out, H-band was wearing expensive black shoes, a funky dress shirt, and the same spiraling ponytail. On our first date I had to ask him, "Did you ever have short hair?"

"Years ago," he said. "But I started to grow it out after high school. For all of my adult life it's been long."

I knew that H-band, who was not even B-friend yet, was born and raised in a beach town outside San Diego. I imagined a little boy, a more deflated version of Little Hercules, running around naked like a little Tarzan with his soft flowing hair. I imagined his hair was--like Big Hercules' long locks--his strength, his past. A past I never dared to alter. As we started dating I commented occasionally on his facial hair, but never, ever, did I so much as hint at a trim when it came to his long mane. Frankly, I couldn't imagine him without it.

Which explains the wide-eyed look when H-band declared over the holidays, "I'm thinking of cutting my hair."

But then I thought, "H-band thinks of owning a Maserati too; that doesn't mean that he will."

But then H-band turned 30, and our very dear friend--his former flame--Jen passed away at an age that was too young to not send life-questioning reverberations through all of her friends. H-band began looking into salon windows and wondering if his head was too small for short hair. Finally, this week he said to me in passing,

"You planning to be in the city on Friday?"

"I could be. Why?"

"I'm gonna do it," he said. "It's time. I made an appointment; I'd like you to be there when it happens."

I wondered, am I attending a haircutting, or a bris?

Will Resumes Become Obsolete?

Maybe I'm being dramatic. Or maybe not. My latest on the Fast Company blog.

Entrepreneurial Sin #6: Getting too wrapped up in the lead of our business story

More on the issue of trust, a continuation from my last Entrepreneurial Sin post.

A primary issue while at all of the jobs I've had--entrepreneurial or corporate--is a tension that my Midwestern ears can sense with deafening clarity; the disconnect between two people of different "power levels" within a company--sometimes determined by title or authority, other times by the stake or ownership of a company--where the "higher" level party assumes the other party is untrustworthy, or dishonest, or incompetent. I've heard statements like these that suggest that a relationship might rupture when it doesn't need to:

--"She didn't call me back when I asked her to; she's totally uncommitted."

--"I didn't like his tone when I asked for an update."

--"What do you mean, you're not sure? We need you on-board. If you're not sure you shouldn't be here."

And the uber-vague:

--"She's just not feeling me. I'm not getting a good vibe from her."

By the way, I commonly use the last phrase above. I fully confess, in my less-reflective moments, I've made sweeping judgments based on vibes, which are often influenced by previous, unrelated experiences and lunar cycles. But I digress...

The point is, we do a huge disservice to ourselves and to the people that we rely upon to achieve our visions because we question loyalty, interest, and, perhaps, our ability to make people passionate about our vision. At the end of the day, however, this needn't be an issue of trust. This is really about your story lead. Let me explain...