Venture Capital

I live in Australia. You know this.

Growing up, I thought Australia was on the other side of the world. I could picture flying over oceans, continents, thatched huts, rice fields - Europe! Africa! Russia! China! - and still not quite reaching Australia. The land down under (where women glow and men plunder). It seemed so mystical. So unattainable. So far away.

It never occurred to me that it was just to the left of California.

But it wouldn't have. I'd never even been to California. Or out of North Carolina for that matter. To me, the world was a huge place. And I was in my own little corner of it. Being small. Doing small. Thinking small.

It wasn't until I was twenty-one that I actually flew on a plane. I was flying from Chapel Hill to Chicago. After boarding the flight, I immediately outed myself to the older Asian man to my right, "Hi. I'm Stephanie. This is my first time on a plane." He could tell I was nervous because I looked nervous. And because I required consolation from a stranger.

After lift-off, I folded my hands in my lap and looked down. And I watched my world get smaller and smaller and smaller.

Sitting in the terminal before boarding the flight, I'd had this acute feeling. That I wasn't meant to fly. That only special people flew. People who did bigger and thought bigger. Who were bigger.

My mom had only flown once in her life. She had dated a pilot - and he'd taken her up in his little commuter plane. My stepfather traveled around the country a bit for work. Upon leaving for a business trip, he'd give me cash to put under my bed in case of an emergency. I remember feeling like he was going off to war. But he was really only going to Vegas. And a mug he brought back from Bally's proved it.

A big life lesson for me has been to "feel the fear and do it anyway." And since that seminal flight, now with 30 countries behind me, I've done just that. And, as a result, my worldview has expanded like a balloon. My perspective has widened its diameter. And the belief that I could be bigger, think bigger, do bigger - has materialized.

My first significant foray out of North Carolina was to Colorado with some girlfriends. Ginger and Melissa and I decided to move to Boulder for the summer. We'd been inspired by a gal in our sorority who'd lived in Wyoming the previous summer. It sounded so adventurous. So exciting. So far away from our parents.

My stepfather had let me take "the van". The Chevy Astro Van. It had the words "S.T.A.R.S. Satellite Systems", which I tried to burn off with a hair dryer, stuck to the side. My stepfather had a side business selling Satellites. Televisions. Antennas. (and) Receiver. Systems. to people out in the wilderness of North Carolina (where cable had not yet been discovered) and this was his work van.

Well, the work van needed some work. And my stepfather had been at it for a while. I was suspicious that he was stalling. I knew he wanted me to stay home for the summer - and he knew he was providing my get-away car.

But one day it was ready - car phone and all - so I packed up and headed off to pick up Ginger in Laurinburg and Melissa in Charlotte. I'd left at nighttime, knowing it would have been better to wait 'til morning - but we were so antsy. Melissa and Ginger had been calling daily - faithfully. Is it ready yet? Is he finished?

They were ready to go. And so was I. I remember Melissa saying over the phone, "If we don't leave soon, my Dad's going to make me get a job."

Every adventure needs a little mishap, so - to start us off - I almost ran over Ginger's parents (while trying to back out of their driveway). Then we ran out of gas (the needle was broken and it didn't occur to us that we'd been driving for a damn long time without refilling the tank). Our alternator broke (in the oasis of Calvert City, Kentucky no less). And a major tornado wiped out a mall (as we were taking a nap in a Kansas parking lot).

And that was just the drive in. There were many, many (mis)adventures during those two months in Boulder on 14th & Euclid. Too many to list.

OK, OK. I'll list a few. (It was just too hard to move on without making this list. Bear with me, people.).

• We stopped in Denver overnight to rest the car before making the 30-minute trek into Boulder because my stepfather told me it was the "mile high city".
• I discovered bouncers got $50 every time they took a fake I.D. in Colorado.
• One of our roommates was diagnosed with bipolar disorder.
• Two of our roommates stole a nitrous tank from a local dentist.*
• Those two same roommates memorized the local delivery schedule, stealing kegs of Raspberry Wheat, Apricot Ale and Honey Brown off the beer truck on a weekly basis.*
• A homeless guy named Brother Love lived in our backyard. He cleaned our house after parties. And cried when we left.
• We discovered Target.
• I learned the word serendipity.
• I heard Sweet Melissa, Sun Comes Up, It's Tuesday Morning and Sugar Magnolia for the first time.
• Picture of Nectar played continuously in the background.
• Our roommates built a skate ramp in our living room.
• We made mushroom tea.
• I wore ripped jeans with cordoroy patches.
• Someone braided hemp into my hair.
• Someone broke into our house.
• Melissa worked at Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory, which resulted in candied apples and chocolate strawberries for all.
• We rolled our own cigarettes.

I worked at the BookEnd Cafe on Pearl Street and learned to make perfect lattes.

• Us girls went to Vail for 4th of July weekend. Which was the same weekend someone set fire to a couch in our front yard and the police showed up in riot gear, taking all the empty kegs. We were sad to have missed it.

We lived in this house featured in this song and sung by this band.

• The lead singer of said band had a crush on Ginger.
• I had a crush on Ed.
• Bambie came to visit and hooked up with Jack.
• I hooked up with Matt and pissed off Mark.

We were known as the "Stars Satellite girls".

• We had a pair of rival girls in the neighborhood who went to Duke. They were trying to steal Ed. I just knew it. ;)
• Melissa tubed.
• Ginger hiked.
• I wrote "Call Police" on a shoebox and held it up on the side of the highway after running out of gas.

We went to Red Rocks to see Phish.

• And to see The Allman Brothers, who I thought were The Almond Brothers.
• We buried pot in a canister of Swiss Miss. It smelled like pot chocolate. :-)
• One of our roommates wore a sign that read "Acid Tester" and preceded to turn into an deranged five-year-old.

We heard an unknown yodelling blonde beauty open up for Widespread Panic.

• Jerry Garcia died. We may have cried.
• We took lots and lots of video. Which still exists somewhere out there. Like a sex tape you never should have made.
• And Ginger, Melissa and I became friends forever.

(No wonder our parents were afraid we might die. And thank God we didn't.)

I started my international travels with some seed money from my stepmother (Debbie) and by working as a cashier at Wellspring Grocery. Debbie had once lived in Germany where she'd a been soldier in the Army. She was the only person I knew who had ever lived outside of the United States - or the South for that matter. I remember looking at her photos when I was a kid. To me, living in Germany was as foreign a concept as time travel.

So, with this angel investment, I took off for Europe. With Ginger, of course.

Our first (and last) stop was Amsterdam. It was so clean and ordered. People cycled about, holding the handle bars with perfect posture. There were space cakes and hash coffee shops, but I blew past those for the Van Gough museum (besides, I had a cold). I could not believe that all of this beauty was in one place. It worried me. It was so dangerous. Like keeping all your money in one stock.

From there, I went to Paris, where - just like a storybook, I fell in deeply, soulfully, painfully in love.

With Nutella.

(sigh)

Christ, why have I not heard of this stuff before?

In Paris, I visited the second museum I ever loved. No, not the Louvre (although I did see the Mona Lisa there). No, not Musee d'Orsay (although I did see The Thinker there).

The museum dedicated entirely to Salvador Domingo Felipe Jacinto Dali i Domenech. Or Salvador Dali for short. A man with a name that long certainly deserves his own museum. And in Monmartre, no less. I remember wondering why it wasn't in Spain (?).

Then on to Versailles. The Hall of Mirrors. The gardens. I'd never seen anything like it off-screen, so - to me - it was like a movie set.

I could almost see people standing around the pond with their little parasols. I wanted a parasol.

Like in a Seurat painting.

Back in Paris, we met some Irish kids at the "Young & Happy Hostel" who were headed to Montpellier. So we flitted off with them to wander the cobblestone streets and pick up some of the local customs. Like putting mayonnaise on French fries and leaving dog shit on the sidewalk.

I have this vivid memory in Montpellier. You know when people say they remember where they were when MLK or JFK was shot? Or when the Challenger blew up? Well, I'll always remember standing bare-footed on a cold stone floor - with my hands in an old porcelain sink - washing my underwear by hand. That's when I heard the news that Princess Diana had died.

As I traveled, I could almost feel my brain forming new neural pathways. No encyclopedia could teach this. No classroom. No story.

I'd grown up a vociferous reader. I would read anything I could get my hands on:

Dictionaries. Encyclopedias. Medical books sold door-to-door.

A complete volume of Shakespeare which I begged my stepfather to buy me from Costco. Archie comic books which I hassled my mom to buy me - weekly - in the grocery line.

Genesis.

Yes, I read Genesis.

Oh, and Seventeen Magazine. Remember that, girls? The "Sex & Your Body" column was responsible for 99% of my sex ed from the ages of 13-17.

But - most of all - I loved reading Sidney Sheldon. His books were set in exotic places that I'd never been. Like Spain or Greece. Or Philadelphia.

The stories would start something like...

"With her intelligence and beauty as her only weapons, Tracy embarks on a series of extraordinary escapades that sweep her across the globe."

Can I be Tracy?

"In an explosive confrontation, Tracy meets her equal in irresistible Jeff Stevens, whose past is as colorful as Tracy's."

Can I meet Jeff? And does he have an accent?

Those novels combined my insatiable need for information with my insatiable desire to travel.

To me, traveling was like information on crack.

After Holland and France, we went to Spain. To Barcelona. I still remember that little hidden bar we went to, The Black Sheep. I thought a black sheep was just that - a black sheep. Barcelona introduced me to Gaudi architecture (and the origin of the word gaudy). And it gave me a context for all those Almodovar movies I was to fall in love with later in life. All About My Mother, Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown, Talk to Her.

In Germany, I discovered the wonderful world of beer + brats = bliss at Oktoberfest. Then to Switzerland for the Swiss Alps. To Austria for the Sound of Music tour. To Prague for well - Prague! To Budapest because someone mentioned it was cool. And on and on.

Oh, and Italy! I almost forgot Italy (that's like winning an Oscar and forgetting to thank your mother.). We went to Italy for the wine, the food, David, the Sistine Chapel, vespas, the Colloseum, Rome! Venice! Sienna! Florence!

The thing I remember most about Italy was a meal. I can still remember the restaurant from the outside, a dimly-lit unassuming little place. It reminded me of the restaurant in The Lady and The Tramp, one of my all-time favorite movies.

While Lady and her tramp were eating spaghetti, we were eating five different kinds of pasta with five different yummy sauces. They were served on tiny little plates - in five courses. With wine.

To.

die.

Apart from these memorable moments of transcendant bliss, we were running around Europe like chickens with our heads cut off. The blind leading the blind (remember? see reference to France).

We'd wake up in the morning to a new place where (again) no one spoke our language. Where, confusingly, the culture was at once similar and completely different. Where the money was different. The food was different. The number you use to call 9-1-1 was different.

And we survived.

We did.

We found the toilet.

Figured out how to use it.

By squatting. Giving it a franc. Pulling a chain overhead. Or spraying ourselves with a hose.

And we learned some important life lessons along the way. Like it's easy to get locked in a bathroom in France - especially since the lights are on a timer.

So be quick. Tout suite!

The value of learning how to use the toilet in France is not that you now understand how to use a toilet in France, it's that you've learned something new. You've had a new experience. Created a new neural pathway. Overcome some adversity. And probably a little fear.

And guess what? You've come out a fuller, more complete (and possibly lighter) person.

This lesson - that in order to grow you have to stretch outside your comfort zone into the realm of fear, vulnerability and the unknown - is what I live by. And I think that's how this small town girl made good. :)

Since I spend most of my waking hours at work, I'm lucky that my job also does this for me. Google is a place where I can stretch, grow and learn. And where I can support others to do the same.

Working at Google is a bit like being on Survivor - cast out into the wilderness of Silicon Valley - where every day is a challenge. And like Survivor, there are actual challenges to test our endurance, strength, problem solving ability, teamwork, dexterity and willpower...

But instead of eating bugs or rolling an eight-foot boulder through a natural obstacle course in hopes of winning 100 gallons of drinking water and organic shampoo, we do it for salary.

Sample Google Endurance Challenge:

A regular work day is 8 hours long. At one end of the work day is morning. And at the opposite end is night. Your goal is the cram 15 hours of work into 8 hours.

Other "knowns":

- The company you work for says that work / life balance is important to long-term happiness and success.

- You have seven years to solve this problem.

Go!

Sample Google Problem Solving Challenge:

Jennifer, Carrie, Shawn, Petri, Terry, Stephanie, Jim and Amelia have to have a weekly meeting. Jennifer is in California. Petri is in Helsinki. Carrie is in New York. Terry is in London. Stephanie is in Sydney. Amelia is in Paris. Jim is on vacation in Dublin. And Shawn could be either in Singapore, Tokyo or California. When do you book the meeting so that no one is 100% likely to be asleep?

Other "knowns":

- Everyone has access to video conference.

- It does not matter if it is during the work hours of 9 to 6.

- Vacations do not preclude you from attending the weekly meeting.

- The company you work for says that work / life balance is important to long-term happiness and success.

- You have 7 minutes to solve the problem.

Go!

And these are the simple problems.

Every day, just like travelling, Google pushes me outside my comfort zone. Thankfully, it has become increasingly easier over time (presumably because I've built up that endurance, strength, problem solving ability, teamwork, dexterity and willpower).

When I first came to Google, that same feeling washed over me. The one from the plane. All those busy, badged and bright people. They were special. They thought big. Did big. Were big.

I wasn't meant to be there.

But almost 7 years later, here I am. Still plugging away. Getting things done. Things I'm proud of. Learning and growing and expanding. And supporting people to do the same. It's a good life (work/life). And, serendipitously, I'm able to combine it with travel. ;)

And this time, I'm coming home! To see all you people (and the babies that have made their way into the world since I've been gone). xo

LA - Oct 15-17, NYC - 18-22 & 25-27, Boston - 22-24, NC - 28-5 (while taking it down a notch in between on 30th & 31st in DC - so excited!).

* Nieces, nephews, cousins, children of friends, grown brothers and similarly impressionable people: I do not condone this. And just because these people were once my friends does not mean they aren't in jail right now. :)