I've had the fortune and honor of working with wonderful executives since becoming an Executive Assistant. "Becoming" is kind of an odd word to use. It sounds like I had prepared, planned, or even thought to be one. Back then, during my days and nights spent as a younger person in Rowe's Room, what I wanted to be, what I wanted to do for a career was nowhere near being an EA. I wanted to be an actress, I wanted to be a performer, I wanted to be on stage. And those of you from way back when, you knew I was actually good! Who could forget sophomore year's fantastic production at dramafest when we took home most of the awards (including yours truly's "Best Actress")!
Getting back to being an EA...
If you're still thinking of an EA as a "secretary" then you need to pull your head out of the ground (or get a job where there is actually an executive who knows how to use an EA). I'm not going to explain the difference here, you either get it, or you don't.
So, if you do have one, or work closely with one, take note - it is Professional Administrator's Week. Don't let the week go by without letting your EA know that you paid attention -greet him/her! I know you all say "thank you" each time she/he hands you a bottle of water in between meetings (or stocks up your fridge in your cube with water for your consumption), I know you say "thank you" each time he/she reminds you that you can not travel on that certain day or that you can't take a dinner meeting because it is your anniversary or your kid's recital, I realize you say thank you when she spends 3 full days on the phone looking and searching for those window blinds that you dropped off somewhere near your flat in the city, but you can't remember where exactly. Thank yous each time your EA helps you get through your day without any major blunders are nice, we appreciate that you were taught good manners and remember to say "please" and "thank you". However, don't kid yourself and think that you can rest on those. Say an extra "thank you" this week and make it be known that you are capable of remembering something that she didn't remind you of or noted on your calendar.
And while we're at it..beyond "Admin Week," please don't forget to show your EA you took the time to buy her a card over the holidays. Imagine how it feels like to be the one making sure your contacts all receive their cards, yet we don't even receive one! (And no, the generic card from the company, with your signature at the bottom does not count!)
I have had some really thoughtful and very generous CEOs and executives in my career. I'm blessed and privileged to have worked for these classy bosses (and their classy spouses)! I have no complaints as the record of 11 "thoughtful" bosses to 1 "not so much" in my over 15 years of being an EA is very, very good.
And hey boss, remember...this is the person who holds all your personal information at the tip of her fingertips, has a network of other EAs that would put the "illuminati" to shame. So, hey boss, this week...do say a proper "thank you for all that you do for me" to your EA! You don't want your spouse's big bday to be "forgotten" do you?
(To my fellow EAs...Happy Admin Week!)
Monday, April 25, 2011
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Guess what? I AM "Rowe's Room!"
I was so determined to find who owns "Rowe's Room" ..... well, lo and behold, I AM ROWE'S ROOM! LOL.
Apparently, I set this site up back in 2009 but never got around to posting anything! So, my dear followers (all 6 of you)...please follow this blog site. In a way, I'm glad I wrote my first post under the notion that I did not have "Rowe's Room" as I immediately had something to write about in retrospect.
More soon....
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I wanted this blog to be called "Rowe's Room." Unfortunately, it's not available and I could not pull up who/what it is being used for.
"Rowe's Room" makes me think of so many wonderful things and yes, I'm bummed that I don't get to use it. When I was a teenager and living in Manila, my friends loved to hang out at our house, in my room. Our house was located near the entrance of our gated "village" (what we called our private communities) and residents pretty much had to drive by our house to go in/out of the village (for those who lived in the Annex side). My room was a common venue for lazy afternoons and those rare Saturday nights when I was not out at some party (or parties) or event. Yes, there were those Saturdays, believe it or not. Of course, no boys were allowed in Rowe's Room, it was my parents' home after all, and hello...I was a good catholic girl. (Okay, no snickering...I was, truly!) The boys allowed were friends who had girlfriends with them - definitely not MY boyfriend(s).
My room was like a "lounge." Airconditioned (remember, Manila location), tv, music, and an abundance of yummy snacks, hand-made and from scratch, cooked and baked by my awesome chef of a mom. Ensaymadas and sans rival and chocolate cakes were typical at my house, all at the same time. How I was not 300 lbs back then, I don't know. Perhaps the bountiful presence of food made me less interested.
Apart from mom's yummies available to us in Rowe's Room, I had makeup, accessories, cool stuff that made hanging out for hours fun (okay, not as fun as being out to parties..but fun enough).
Rowe's room was also on the corner of our lot. Windows faced out to the street. Friends driving by would see my lights on, or my car on the driveway, and next thing you know, there are 5+ ppl stopping at the house and trotting up to Rowe's Room. Good memories...
In Rowe's Room was where I wrote and wrote and wrote for hours and hours. Journals, letters, poems. I still have my red spiral-bound notebook with poems and quotes. The letters (I kept copies of letters I wrote to people), I don't have anymore and I can't recall when I decided to let go of them. I grew up watching my beloved dad, a beautiful writer who used a fountain pen and a ledger for a journal, write for hours as well. I wish I had his journals. I used to sneak in and read his entries..I used to get lost in his words. For some reason, my mom says she does not have my dad's journals. I get so sad thinking about how his legacy in words are now just lost, and I will not be able to read about his last days, last years.
A few people have told me to blog. For the most part, they want me to blog about my being a mom to my little luvvies. I wonder why anyone would want to read my words about anything. What is it to anyone, why would it be interesting? So, if you are out there, reading this...my musings, I wonder why!
It's almost midnight now. I am quite tired after an uncomfortable 1.5 hours at the dentist's for a filling, then a day at the job (Mozilla), then the rush of getting the little luvvies from school, bathed and then hauling myself to my first dance class (where I was humbled by chacha and samba). Miche has gone to bed and so should I. A Zyrtec (for my allergies) is part of each night time routine, leaving me groggy for the first 10 or so minutes upon waking every morning.
Tomorrow morning, I will wake up and will give my luvvies their goodmorning/wake-up kisses as I always do. And then it begins all over again. Go, go, go...rowe. That's me.
Apparently, I set this site up back in 2009 but never got around to posting anything! So, my dear followers (all 6 of you)...please follow this blog site. In a way, I'm glad I wrote my first post under the notion that I did not have "Rowe's Room" as I immediately had something to write about in retrospect.
More soon....
------------------------------
I wanted this blog to be called "Rowe's Room." Unfortunately, it's not available and I could not pull up who/what it is being used for.
"Rowe's Room" makes me think of so many wonderful things and yes, I'm bummed that I don't get to use it. When I was a teenager and living in Manila, my friends loved to hang out at our house, in my room. Our house was located near the entrance of our gated "village" (what we called our private communities) and residents pretty much had to drive by our house to go in/out of the village (for those who lived in the Annex side). My room was a common venue for lazy afternoons and those rare Saturday nights when I was not out at some party (or parties) or event. Yes, there were those Saturdays, believe it or not. Of course, no boys were allowed in Rowe's Room, it was my parents' home after all, and hello...I was a good catholic girl. (Okay, no snickering...I was, truly!) The boys allowed were friends who had girlfriends with them - definitely not MY boyfriend(s).
My room was like a "lounge." Airconditioned (remember, Manila location), tv, music, and an abundance of yummy snacks, hand-made and from scratch, cooked and baked by my awesome chef of a mom. Ensaymadas and sans rival and chocolate cakes were typical at my house, all at the same time. How I was not 300 lbs back then, I don't know. Perhaps the bountiful presence of food made me less interested.
Apart from mom's yummies available to us in Rowe's Room, I had makeup, accessories, cool stuff that made hanging out for hours fun (okay, not as fun as being out to parties..but fun enough).
Rowe's room was also on the corner of our lot. Windows faced out to the street. Friends driving by would see my lights on, or my car on the driveway, and next thing you know, there are 5+ ppl stopping at the house and trotting up to Rowe's Room. Good memories...
In Rowe's Room was where I wrote and wrote and wrote for hours and hours. Journals, letters, poems. I still have my red spiral-bound notebook with poems and quotes. The letters (I kept copies of letters I wrote to people), I don't have anymore and I can't recall when I decided to let go of them. I grew up watching my beloved dad, a beautiful writer who used a fountain pen and a ledger for a journal, write for hours as well. I wish I had his journals. I used to sneak in and read his entries..I used to get lost in his words. For some reason, my mom says she does not have my dad's journals. I get so sad thinking about how his legacy in words are now just lost, and I will not be able to read about his last days, last years.
A few people have told me to blog. For the most part, they want me to blog about my being a mom to my little luvvies. I wonder why anyone would want to read my words about anything. What is it to anyone, why would it be interesting? So, if you are out there, reading this...my musings, I wonder why!
It's almost midnight now. I am quite tired after an uncomfortable 1.5 hours at the dentist's for a filling, then a day at the job (Mozilla), then the rush of getting the little luvvies from school, bathed and then hauling myself to my first dance class (where I was humbled by chacha and samba). Miche has gone to bed and so should I. A Zyrtec (for my allergies) is part of each night time routine, leaving me groggy for the first 10 or so minutes upon waking every morning.
Tomorrow morning, I will wake up and will give my luvvies their goodmorning/wake-up kisses as I always do. And then it begins all over again. Go, go, go...rowe. That's me.
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