Me: The end of my internship is coming up. I'm filled with an unbelievable anxiety about the exit interview, so I started making a list of good things and bad things about my internship.
Friend: That's not a bad idea. Let's hear 'em.
Me: Bad thing #1: I got paid $100 for 6 months of work, which is less than children stitching soccer balls in some sweaty Nike hangout.
Friend: Might not want to lead with that. What else?
Me: Bad thing #2: This office has awful porn shui. Our computers are RIGHT THERE FOR ALL TO SEE! And I'm not talking about like sex porn, but, you know, if I want to be looking at food blogs or something, I'm afraid they're gonna catch me when I should be fact checking.
Friend: Maybe you shouldn't be so honest during your exit interview...
Me: Good thing #1: I like the work, most of the time. Unless I have to fact check with politicians, or rich people. Good thing #2: There is usually free food somewhere in the office every couple weeks. Hence, I am not starving.
Friend: You can't starve, you eat more than anyone I know. I don't know where you put it.
Me: Thank you. Unlike Shakira, my hips DO lie. They are secretly hollow, and that is where I keep my food stores.
Friend: ...
Me: I feel like I should do something great at the end. Like, make cookies for everyone. Or bring in fireworks or something. OR... I could come in to work in a beard!
Friend: Um...?
Me: When I left my last job, EM was trying to convince me to wear this beard she had left over from a production that she worked on. I didn't end up doing it because when I tried it on, it was really uncomfortable. Uncomfortable how GOOD I looked! OHH!!! No, but seriously, it itched a lot. That's how I rate men with beards, too, you know. Based on whether or not I would let the beard in question touch me. Homeless man beard? No. Santa beard? Only if I am getting presents. Hot guy scruffy beard? Yes.
Friend: Honestly, I am not even listening to you anymore. You stopped making sense like, five minutes ago. But don't talk about beards during your exit interview. Maybe talk about what you're going to do with your life, now that you're no longer an intern.
Me: I'm... I'm supposed to know that?!
Showing posts with label I like learning. Show all posts
Showing posts with label I like learning. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
I obviously need to intern with Sheen to learn how to succeed. Also, OMG I used a lot of commas in this one.
I feel like I've been posting a lot about Facebook lately and even though I've only posted like twice about it, two can definitely be "a lot" if you're like me and you think things like, "When I say I want a lot of whiskey, I mean I want two bottles." Two bottles is a lot of whiskey, you guys, unless you're an alcoholic and I'm not because I don't drink alone, except when I have good reasons, like not having an odd number of bottles in the house. Symmetry is better for feng shui. Probably.
Anyway, so my graduating class from high school has this Facebook group so that we can all keep in touch and have a splendid turnout for our 2013 reunion. The problem is that much of what I remember about high school, I have tried to drink away in subsequent irresponsible college years and the following useless years of my twenties. It's not that I hated high school or was bullied or picked on (that I can remember, anyway), but let's say for the sake of simplicity that I was a late blooming tomboy geek who hasn't really learned much since high school except that alcohol is delicious and having boobs is awesome.
So apparently, I'm supposed to show up to this shindig with a bunch of people who already knew me as a late blooming tomboy geek and stand there awkwardly when they ask me what it is that I do and I tell them that I'm a writer in my soul just because I don't think I'm really qualified to do anything other than that and then brace myself for the inevitable "Oh? What have you written? Have you published anything?" where I will stare at them blankly and drain my whiskey neat while they talk about their husbands/wives/careers/babies. At this point, I'm already starting to envision an evening like in Zack and Miri Make A Porno and I'll probably end up hitting on one of the men I crushed on in high school and striking out again because he's secretly a gay porn star. One can only hope.
I'd be much more apt to let all of this go and journey down that road of not giving a fuck what others may think of my "brand" of success if I wasn't already mid-crisis about everything right now. We'll see where I end up in a year and a half, and if all else fails, I'll just show up topless and drunk because that is at least capitalizing on what I've learned in the years since high school, and life, my friends, is all about personal growth.
Anyway, so my graduating class from high school has this Facebook group so that we can all keep in touch and have a splendid turnout for our 2013 reunion. The problem is that much of what I remember about high school, I have tried to drink away in subsequent irresponsible college years and the following useless years of my twenties. It's not that I hated high school or was bullied or picked on (that I can remember, anyway), but let's say for the sake of simplicity that I was a late blooming tomboy geek who hasn't really learned much since high school except that alcohol is delicious and having boobs is awesome.
So apparently, I'm supposed to show up to this shindig with a bunch of people who already knew me as a late blooming tomboy geek and stand there awkwardly when they ask me what it is that I do and I tell them that I'm a writer in my soul just because I don't think I'm really qualified to do anything other than that and then brace myself for the inevitable "Oh? What have you written? Have you published anything?" where I will stare at them blankly and drain my whiskey neat while they talk about their husbands/wives/careers/babies. At this point, I'm already starting to envision an evening like in Zack and Miri Make A Porno and I'll probably end up hitting on one of the men I crushed on in high school and striking out again because he's secretly a gay porn star. One can only hope.
I'd be much more apt to let all of this go and journey down that road of not giving a fuck what others may think of my "brand" of success if I wasn't already mid-crisis about everything right now. We'll see where I end up in a year and a half, and if all else fails, I'll just show up topless and drunk because that is at least capitalizing on what I've learned in the years since high school, and life, my friends, is all about personal growth.
Monday, February 7, 2011
I'm trying to love you, Football, but you're boring so it's hard for me.
There are some things in life that I believe I will never learn. Things that I can't comprehend, mistakes that I continue to make over and over, and subjects that I have some kind of mental block against - that no matter how many times I study, evade my understanding. The finer points of string theory, most things related to chemistry, psychological reasons why some people are as useless as a butthole on your forehead, and football.
And, like all good Americans, I hate that which I do not understand. Except for string theory - I think that has some serious potential to be fantastic. Plus I feel like I have a better chance of understanding that than football, which is saying something.
Don't get me wrong, I really enjoy the "experience" of football, especially if there is booze attached to it. Tailgate parties, sports bars, pubs, BBQs... generally, any time I am challenged to make something heart-attack inducing bite-sized, I'm going to be on board. ("These wings would be better if they were wrapped in bacon!") I can also get behind having a home team, but I moved around a bit and my college didn't have a football team, so I missed out there. I also don't mind large sweaty men in jerseys who yell at the television and at the refs and paint their faces like William Wallace in their wife's Suburban. Actually, I commend you for your spirit. That's how I get when Shark Week rolls around every year. (Seriously.)
I've had football "explained" to me at least once a year, from several different people. As a kid, I was too wrapped up in soccer to properly give a shit about anything that wasn't soccer (or ballet, come to think of it) but I knew that the Super Bowl meant snacks and funny commercials. My Dad tried to explain it to me, but I never remembered how those conversations ended because I'm sure EM and I would just take off to go do something more interesting, like watch grass grow. Later in high school, I was in marching band and so was forced to sit through games, unmoved and unthrilled by anything happening. Even when my guy friends tried to inform me about the horrible call that just happened, I would inevitably ask something stupid like, "A safety is what now? He struck out? Oh, it's like a touchdown? Is that like a 3-pointer? Penalty kick? No? Can I have some of your nachos?"
I've dated football players and die-hard football fans who tried, in vain, to make me understand The Greatest Sport In The Universe. It never ended well. I'm determined to learn, if only to prove to myself that if I can understand verb conjugation in most Latin based languages, surely I can understand something understood by millions of men and 5 or 6 women. Probably.
I watched the Super Bowl yesterday and tried to absorb commentary on fumbles and incomplete passes, the point system and the lineup, but ended up bored and making cookies in the kitchen. Some day, I'll learn... it's just that I *really* want to get this string theory thing down first.
Wanna cookie?
And, like all good Americans, I hate that which I do not understand. Except for string theory - I think that has some serious potential to be fantastic. Plus I feel like I have a better chance of understanding that than football, which is saying something.
Don't get me wrong, I really enjoy the "experience" of football, especially if there is booze attached to it. Tailgate parties, sports bars, pubs, BBQs... generally, any time I am challenged to make something heart-attack inducing bite-sized, I'm going to be on board. ("These wings would be better if they were wrapped in bacon!") I can also get behind having a home team, but I moved around a bit and my college didn't have a football team, so I missed out there. I also don't mind large sweaty men in jerseys who yell at the television and at the refs and paint their faces like William Wallace in their wife's Suburban. Actually, I commend you for your spirit. That's how I get when Shark Week rolls around every year. (Seriously.)
I've had football "explained" to me at least once a year, from several different people. As a kid, I was too wrapped up in soccer to properly give a shit about anything that wasn't soccer (or ballet, come to think of it) but I knew that the Super Bowl meant snacks and funny commercials. My Dad tried to explain it to me, but I never remembered how those conversations ended because I'm sure EM and I would just take off to go do something more interesting, like watch grass grow. Later in high school, I was in marching band and so was forced to sit through games, unmoved and unthrilled by anything happening. Even when my guy friends tried to inform me about the horrible call that just happened, I would inevitably ask something stupid like, "A safety is what now? He struck out? Oh, it's like a touchdown? Is that like a 3-pointer? Penalty kick? No? Can I have some of your nachos?"
I've dated football players and die-hard football fans who tried, in vain, to make me understand The Greatest Sport In The Universe. It never ended well. I'm determined to learn, if only to prove to myself that if I can understand verb conjugation in most Latin based languages, surely I can understand something understood by millions of men and 5 or 6 women. Probably.
I watched the Super Bowl yesterday and tried to absorb commentary on fumbles and incomplete passes, the point system and the lineup, but ended up bored and making cookies in the kitchen. Some day, I'll learn... it's just that I *really* want to get this string theory thing down first.
Wanna cookie?
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Pre-New Year's Resolutions
You know how every January people make up all these useless, shitty lists about how they're going to improve their lives in the coming year? These people call them "New Year's Resolutions" and I have always hated that tradition. Well, come to think of it, I hate a lot of other New Year's traditions, like that "kiss at midnight!" bullshit. Honestly, I've kissed more girls at midnight than guys and let me tell you, the subsequent year is usually no better or worse because of it. Also, it's a scientific fact that girls are better kissers than guys. Einstein said that. Probably.
Anyway, EM is really good about making these neat little lists of things that she wants to accomplish throughout the year, and even though I'm biased, her lists are really the best because it's never like, "I'm going to lose fifteen pounds!" or "I'm going to stop eating so many cheesy, fried things" and "I'm not going to get drunk by myself on weekdays!" which is probably what all of mine would be, but you don't have to worry about that last one because I'm a writer and as a breed, we're only successful when we're alcoholics. I'm drinking my way to success!
So as I was saying, EM's lists are really good because they're all things that are realistic goals, but are also things that would probably improve anyone's outlook on life. One time she put skydiving on her list, and she totally did it. She braved it. She also has things on there like reconnecting with old friends, traveling to places she's never been and setting new career goals for herself. Come to think of it, TOL did the same thing. He, too, was an accomplisher.
As someone with a painfully short attention span, I have a hard time making resolutions because I often change my mind throughout the year. If I were to say something like, "I'm going to stop swearing so god damn often," but then ended up writing a short story with a white trash narrator or transcribing an interview with some metalhead punctuating his sentences with "fuck," it's fair to say those words would creep back into my vocabulary. Ultimately, I would feel like a failure, and I don't like feeling that way. I can barely handle it when I lose at Scrabble. As a result, I've come up with a modified list of resolutions that I am going to accomplish by next October, because they are awesome and/or easy and I will probably not lose interest in them.
1. Get amazing at FPS (first person shooter, for you non-nerds out there) games.
2. Learn to cook/bake ONE thing better than everyone you know. (I was interested in sugar cookies last month, but now I'm interested in cinnamon rolls. Let's not get too specific with the resolution, though, shall we?)
3. Stop making excuses about financial responsibility and buy the goddamn Loubs that you've wanted for two years.
4. Probably learn to not be so afraid of ants. Spiders are still fucking terrifying, though, so it's cool to be afraid of them.
5. Stop making excuses about watching documentaries and bad SyFy movies. You're a nerd, and everyone already knows.
6. Now that you've mastered the art of haiku, learn the art of limericks. Especially dirty and/or zombie ones.
7. Finally decide which is better: Coke or Pepsi.
8. Travel somewhere outside your comfort zone.
9. Make more mixes on your iPod.
10. Also take a lot more pictures. We have fun doing that and we want to get better at it.
11. Find and watch all Bruce Campbell movies that you haven't seen yet.
Done and done. Ef you, January, not only do I make lists with uneven numbers, but I make my resolutions WHENEVER I FEEL LIKE IT.
Anyway, EM is really good about making these neat little lists of things that she wants to accomplish throughout the year, and even though I'm biased, her lists are really the best because it's never like, "I'm going to lose fifteen pounds!" or "I'm going to stop eating so many cheesy, fried things" and "I'm not going to get drunk by myself on weekdays!" which is probably what all of mine would be, but you don't have to worry about that last one because I'm a writer and as a breed, we're only successful when we're alcoholics. I'm drinking my way to success!
So as I was saying, EM's lists are really good because they're all things that are realistic goals, but are also things that would probably improve anyone's outlook on life. One time she put skydiving on her list, and she totally did it. She braved it. She also has things on there like reconnecting with old friends, traveling to places she's never been and setting new career goals for herself. Come to think of it, TOL did the same thing. He, too, was an accomplisher.
As someone with a painfully short attention span, I have a hard time making resolutions because I often change my mind throughout the year. If I were to say something like, "I'm going to stop swearing so god damn often," but then ended up writing a short story with a white trash narrator or transcribing an interview with some metalhead punctuating his sentences with "fuck," it's fair to say those words would creep back into my vocabulary. Ultimately, I would feel like a failure, and I don't like feeling that way. I can barely handle it when I lose at Scrabble. As a result, I've come up with a modified list of resolutions that I am going to accomplish by next October, because they are awesome and/or easy and I will probably not lose interest in them.
1. Get amazing at FPS (first person shooter, for you non-nerds out there) games.
2. Learn to cook/bake ONE thing better than everyone you know. (I was interested in sugar cookies last month, but now I'm interested in cinnamon rolls. Let's not get too specific with the resolution, though, shall we?)
3. Stop making excuses about financial responsibility and buy the goddamn Loubs that you've wanted for two years.
4. Probably learn to not be so afraid of ants. Spiders are still fucking terrifying, though, so it's cool to be afraid of them.
5. Stop making excuses about watching documentaries and bad SyFy movies. You're a nerd, and everyone already knows.
6. Now that you've mastered the art of haiku, learn the art of limericks. Especially dirty and/or zombie ones.
7. Finally decide which is better: Coke or Pepsi.
8. Travel somewhere outside your comfort zone.
9. Make more mixes on your iPod.
10. Also take a lot more pictures. We have fun doing that and we want to get better at it.
11. Find and watch all Bruce Campbell movies that you haven't seen yet.
Done and done. Ef you, January, not only do I make lists with uneven numbers, but I make my resolutions WHENEVER I FEEL LIKE IT.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
A Letter to the Governor
Normally, I keep my political and religious beliefs to myself because hey, nosey, that's my business. Today, however, after an article in the L.A. Times about proposed education money being redirected towards the massive state deficit, I was quite compelled to speak out. Below is the letter I signed, sealed and sent to my governor.
Dear Governor Schwarzenegger,
I hope you’re well today, sir. I am sorry to do this now, what with November rapidly approaching, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to break up with you. I know. I’m not happy about it, either.
I had so much hope for us, you see – I was sure when I voted for you that you would bring our beloved state back to her former glory. You’ve done a lot of wonderful things during your tenure as governor, and every time you did, I cheered for you. Perhaps not loudly enough, which is my failing, and I take responsibility for that. Furthermore, I can appreciate that the scope of difficult decisions presented to you on a daily basis is far beyond my own understanding, and nothing is ever so simple as black and white, is it? I don’t pretend to be a politician and I don’t pretend to have all the answers, but for a long time I truly felt that we could be good together; our hearts were in the right place. We both love this state and want to see her thrive again.
Lately though, I’ve been much more concerned about you. About us. I haven’t been able to understand your priorities, and while I am a woman who likes surprises, your behavior this past year has been all too surprising – and not in that good, “I brought you flowers!” kind of way. I normally don’t say much about it, especially about the budget, because everyone makes mistakes! Balancing one of the largest economic budgets in the world cannot be an easy task, and despite agreeing with you on certain issues, I feel that our priorities have changed again. As a young woman, I am patently more concerned with our children than you seem to be. That’s okay; some men just don’t feel a very strong paternal instinct, and I don’t fault you for that. I do, however, feel that I need to let you know that cutting proposed education dollars cannot be the answer. I agree that spending needs to be cut, but by investing more money in criminal justice and corrections, you are treating a symptom of the problem and not the cause, which is an education that lacks funding, creativity and so importantly, passion. Just as unemployed adults crave the motivation to get out of bed in the morning because they want to have a job, a purpose, to feel worthwhile, children need to find the motivation to get out of bed and go to school. Can you imagine being a somewhat misguided 14-year old boy whose only sense of pride stems from a caring teacher who was laid off, or from a woodshop program that was cut in an effort to spend more money on standardized testing? Bright students are getting lost in the shuffle of larger class sizes, making the rewards for excellence feel insubstantial. Troubled students are reinforced with negative attention or worse, ignored altogether. Administrators, teachers and the students themselves have started to abandon hope. I was one of the last of my generation to enjoy those waning artistic outlets and I assure you, they made a world of difference in my education. As a tax-paying resident of California, I can honestly tell you that I would not mind an increase in taxes, provided that I could be more satisfied with where they are going. Education, I believe, needs to be more of a priority than the sizable chunks of money invested in immigration issues and prison systems, but I think that’s where we have reached our impasse.
The bottom line is, I think we’re both ready to move on. This relationship has felt stale and defective for some time, and I’m convinced now that we want different things for our future. I’m not leaving you on bitter terms, sir, and I hope you’ll feel the same about your final months in office. I just want more hope for our state, because that is what has kept me here so long. I believe that we have the tools here to pull ourselves out of this sad state of affairs; we just have to figure out the best ways to use them. To that end, I think we can still agree.
In kindness, respect, and hope,
The Average Broad
Dear Governor Schwarzenegger,
I hope you’re well today, sir. I am sorry to do this now, what with November rapidly approaching, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to break up with you. I know. I’m not happy about it, either.
I had so much hope for us, you see – I was sure when I voted for you that you would bring our beloved state back to her former glory. You’ve done a lot of wonderful things during your tenure as governor, and every time you did, I cheered for you. Perhaps not loudly enough, which is my failing, and I take responsibility for that. Furthermore, I can appreciate that the scope of difficult decisions presented to you on a daily basis is far beyond my own understanding, and nothing is ever so simple as black and white, is it? I don’t pretend to be a politician and I don’t pretend to have all the answers, but for a long time I truly felt that we could be good together; our hearts were in the right place. We both love this state and want to see her thrive again.
Lately though, I’ve been much more concerned about you. About us. I haven’t been able to understand your priorities, and while I am a woman who likes surprises, your behavior this past year has been all too surprising – and not in that good, “I brought you flowers!” kind of way. I normally don’t say much about it, especially about the budget, because everyone makes mistakes! Balancing one of the largest economic budgets in the world cannot be an easy task, and despite agreeing with you on certain issues, I feel that our priorities have changed again. As a young woman, I am patently more concerned with our children than you seem to be. That’s okay; some men just don’t feel a very strong paternal instinct, and I don’t fault you for that. I do, however, feel that I need to let you know that cutting proposed education dollars cannot be the answer. I agree that spending needs to be cut, but by investing more money in criminal justice and corrections, you are treating a symptom of the problem and not the cause, which is an education that lacks funding, creativity and so importantly, passion. Just as unemployed adults crave the motivation to get out of bed in the morning because they want to have a job, a purpose, to feel worthwhile, children need to find the motivation to get out of bed and go to school. Can you imagine being a somewhat misguided 14-year old boy whose only sense of pride stems from a caring teacher who was laid off, or from a woodshop program that was cut in an effort to spend more money on standardized testing? Bright students are getting lost in the shuffle of larger class sizes, making the rewards for excellence feel insubstantial. Troubled students are reinforced with negative attention or worse, ignored altogether. Administrators, teachers and the students themselves have started to abandon hope. I was one of the last of my generation to enjoy those waning artistic outlets and I assure you, they made a world of difference in my education. As a tax-paying resident of California, I can honestly tell you that I would not mind an increase in taxes, provided that I could be more satisfied with where they are going. Education, I believe, needs to be more of a priority than the sizable chunks of money invested in immigration issues and prison systems, but I think that’s where we have reached our impasse.
The bottom line is, I think we’re both ready to move on. This relationship has felt stale and defective for some time, and I’m convinced now that we want different things for our future. I’m not leaving you on bitter terms, sir, and I hope you’ll feel the same about your final months in office. I just want more hope for our state, because that is what has kept me here so long. I believe that we have the tools here to pull ourselves out of this sad state of affairs; we just have to figure out the best ways to use them. To that end, I think we can still agree.
In kindness, respect, and hope,
The Average Broad
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