As I write this I’m sitting at my desk in my office. After a month-long absence, which included a dynamic vacation followed by a nasty head cold that kept me at home, I feel great and ready to turn my attention 100% to CV Weekly.
Our vacation, a Panama Canal cruise on the Emerald Princess, took us to ports in Mexico, Costa Rica, Panama and Colombia (yes, we have pictures). I so miss the welcoming words of the crew when we returned from an excursion. They’d have a couple of tables lined up outside of the ship and welcomed us “home” with iced towels and cold cucumber or orange water. Of course the food couldn’t be beat – available 24/7. I indulged almost daily in a piña colada (only one) to help beat the heat and enjoyed red wine with dinners that were beyond compare. Aboard the Princess, let’s face it: I felt like royalty.
Back here, it seems I was barely missed. Mary O’Keefe, office manager Rachelle Miller (who also watched our house and dogs while we were away), layout gurus Steve Hernandez and Matt Barger, sales professionals Jon K., Sonya Marquez and Lisa Stanners and proofreader diva Anne McNeill made sure the paper looked great every week. And, as always, I am so grateful to the guys who deliver the paper each and every week. (Last week we were late in delivering; the papers were late getting to us which caused a delay in getting the papers to you. For that, I apologize.)
So while it was wonderful being away, I am happy to be back … though I’m checking the Princess website to see about our next vacation (but don’t say anything to my office crew – I think they’ll mutiny).
What’s in a name? Specifically, how important is your name?
I don’t know about you but when I’m called by the wrong name, I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to embarrass the person by saying, “Uh, it’s Robin not (insert incorrect name here).” I’ve been called Donna and Carol, among others.
Or do you quickly assess that it was a one-time error by someone who does know your name – just a mistake.
Then there are the times when you’re introduced correctly but the person just hears your name wrong. They engage you in conversation, peppering with, “So, Carol, isn’t that unbelievable? I mean, Carol, I just didn’t know what to do!”
That’s when I sort of freeze up. Do I say, “Actually my name is Robin” or do I just realize I won’t be seeing this person again for some time and let it go? Sometimes I take a minute to see if it was a one-time error and they self-correct thereby negating the need for me to step in. But other times it’s a glaring error that’s staring me in the face.
As they say, though: I don’t care what you call me – just don’t call me late to dinner.