After watching this year’s Grammy Awards, I am sure of a few things: I will never have Pink’s acrobatic skill or killer body., 3-D is really annoying when you don’t have 3-D glasses, and I absolutely hate Taylor Swift.
I’ve always had a hunch that I hated Taylor Swift, but the Grammies really sealed my distaste for the latest pop/country phenomenon. Some might say, “Why hate on cute, innocent Taylor Swift when there are so many more annoying celebs out there, like Miley Cyrus, Robert Pattinson, and Heidi Montag?” True, those other “stars” are annoying and talentless, but despite their popularity, everyone hates on them. There are plenty of college students who rock out to “Party in the USA” and in the same breath, lambaste Cyrus for her mush-mouth, child porn-inspired performances. It’s the same with the other obnoxious celebrities – everyone acknowledges that they are talentless idiots, but their ironic fame keeps them in the spotlight. However, Taylor Swift’s fame is not ironic. People actually think she’s good. That’s why I need to hate on her, because someone needs to tell the crowd that the emperor has no clothes.
Taylor Swift has a sugary sweet image and cutesy, elfish looks. Her long blonde hair, conservative clothes, and acoustic guitar make her non-threatening to teens and parents alike. Her lyrics relate to the every-day teen, talking about that first date or the boy who doesn’t notice you. She plays her own music, she writes her own songs, and she’s so young, so how is this not talent? Any American Idol hopeful can do this. Sure, it’s talent, but it’s nothing special. What would set Taylor Swift apart from every teenage girl with a crush and a guitar would be maturity.
Granted, she sings about what she knows, but all she knows is that high school is tough and boys are mean. Every time I hear one of her songs on the radio, I think, “Didn’t this song come out a year ago? Oh wait, no, it is actually a different song about a different boy in a different class.” She is too young to be so famous for writing such crappy songs. Also, her voice is not very strong. She would blow me away at karaoke, but when your job is to be a singer, you better be better than good karaoke.
These were all things I knew about Taylor Swift before the Grammies. What really irked me and inspired me to write this blog condemning the blonde bimbo was the fact that she won so many awards and her reaction each time. First of all, how did she beat out so many phenomenal singers for album of the year? I can hardly believe that her collection of songs about teenage boy drama was deeper and better composed than Pink’s divorce compilation or Sasha Fierce’s take on life. However, Taylor Swift seemed even more shocked than I was that she won. Maybe she’s been scarred from the Kanye West incident and feels she needs to show her thank-you’s on her face in case she doesn’t get to say them. In any case, she has proven to be the Meryl Streep of music, ever-humble, ever-obnoxious. Come on, Taylor, like you didn’t know you were going to win something. Quit talking about your parents and what a great year it’s been and quit fanning yourself with your hand and acting speechless. You’ve been practicing your acceptance speech for days in front of the mirror (along with how you’re going to tell that boy in math class that you like him, which will surely lead to a chart-topper).
In a perfect world, Taylor Swift would not be so decorated for her merely decent performances. However, the world is run by tweens, so I can’t wait until next year’s Grammies when the Jonas Brothers and High School Musical cast-offs duke it out for album of the year.
Saturday, February 06, 2010
Wednesday, January 06, 2010
The office ham
Sitcoms and Dilbert comics portray the work place as a hotbed of hilarity and awkward situations. Never having been in a true office environment, but having heard complaints from others about the daily grind, I assumed office shenanigans were just a myth, like unicorns or North Dakota. Now that I have been in the working world for 3 months now, I can say that there doesn’t seem to be so many office hijinks as there are people who make your day fly by with their hilarious quips go on for hours longer with their inane comments.
In the news business, you would expect everyone to be on top of the daily goings-on and to be in touch with the world around them. This is true. You might expect news people to be observant and desperate to change the world. This is occasionally true. You might also suppose that news people are intelligent and articulate. Not always.
One of my fellow production assistants nabs the prize for most frequent butt of everyone’s jokes. The poor fellow wants to be in news so badly and tries so hard that he ends up being his own worst enemy. His writing and comprehension skills are sub-par, and his ability to observe and react to social cues is that of an autistic 10-year-old. He is kind (with occasional bouts of swearing), and determined (with frequent instances of self-importance), but most of all, he is entertaining.
In one of my first experiences with him, he was posting a story to the website about a local event called “Fall-o-ween.” I’m sure you can guess that this is an autumn-based event around Halloween time. However, this cutesy term tripped him up so much, that every 3 minutes, I heard him muttering “Fall-o-ween? What could Fall-o-ween be? That can’t be right. What’s Fall-o-ween?” I tried to explain to him that it’s just a clever title of a silly local event, but he wouldn’t accept that answer, and kept on proclaiming “Fall-o-ween!” around the news room for the entire night.
My favorite instance of him just not getting it involved a very sad story where a young woman was raped after someone broke into her apartment. The silly PA (who we will call Chester from now on…why Chester? Because I want some Cheetos) posted the story to the web with a headline of his own, but was later reprimanded by the executive producer. Distraught and confused, Chester asked me why his headline was changed. His original headline was “Woman raped after forced entry.” Oh my, poor baby Chester did not understand why this was so wrong. I tried to decode the double entendre without going into detail his 5th grade health teacher should have provided him with, but he still did not see the error in the headline.
Occasionally, I will bring in cookies to work to better secure my promotion for the enjoyment of my coworkers. This, without fail, brings out Chester’s ham obsession. After seeing the delighted smiles on our coworkers faces as they try a fresh-out-of-the-oven chocolate chip cookie, Chester will get jealous and declare that he is bringing a ham into work. “I should bring a ham into work!” shouts Chester. “Everyone loves ham! That would be great! A nice big ham at work!” Chester never mentions any other meat or baked good, but is fixated on ham. Only ham will do for his beloved coworkers! So every day, when he walks into the newsroom in his blindingly white jacket, I wait and hope that he pulls a ham out of his backpack and places it on the empty desk to share with everyone. But alas, months have passed, and no ham! Finally, out of the blue, as if he can read my mind, he tells me that he has no container big enough to fit a ham. As I’m typing away and he’s still trying to figure out what Fall-o-ween is, he looks at me and says ,“I have nothing to carry a ham in.” It was like watching a part of him die. Perhaps it was at that moment that he realized that bringing a ham to work would be ridiculous and difficult, and his dream of eating a freshly prepared ham while working died.
There are other amusing instances of Chester’s follies, like the time he wrote “to make ends meat” or when he asked me what “k-through-12” meant, but those are just a sampling of the daily shenanigans that go on at this office. They should really make a sitcom about it…
In the news business, you would expect everyone to be on top of the daily goings-on and to be in touch with the world around them. This is true. You might expect news people to be observant and desperate to change the world. This is occasionally true. You might also suppose that news people are intelligent and articulate. Not always.
One of my fellow production assistants nabs the prize for most frequent butt of everyone’s jokes. The poor fellow wants to be in news so badly and tries so hard that he ends up being his own worst enemy. His writing and comprehension skills are sub-par, and his ability to observe and react to social cues is that of an autistic 10-year-old. He is kind (with occasional bouts of swearing), and determined (with frequent instances of self-importance), but most of all, he is entertaining.
In one of my first experiences with him, he was posting a story to the website about a local event called “Fall-o-ween.” I’m sure you can guess that this is an autumn-based event around Halloween time. However, this cutesy term tripped him up so much, that every 3 minutes, I heard him muttering “Fall-o-ween? What could Fall-o-ween be? That can’t be right. What’s Fall-o-ween?” I tried to explain to him that it’s just a clever title of a silly local event, but he wouldn’t accept that answer, and kept on proclaiming “Fall-o-ween!” around the news room for the entire night.
My favorite instance of him just not getting it involved a very sad story where a young woman was raped after someone broke into her apartment. The silly PA (who we will call Chester from now on…why Chester? Because I want some Cheetos) posted the story to the web with a headline of his own, but was later reprimanded by the executive producer. Distraught and confused, Chester asked me why his headline was changed. His original headline was “Woman raped after forced entry.” Oh my, poor baby Chester did not understand why this was so wrong. I tried to decode the double entendre without going into detail his 5th grade health teacher should have provided him with, but he still did not see the error in the headline.
Occasionally, I will bring in cookies to work to better secure my promotion for the enjoyment of my coworkers. This, without fail, brings out Chester’s ham obsession. After seeing the delighted smiles on our coworkers faces as they try a fresh-out-of-the-oven chocolate chip cookie, Chester will get jealous and declare that he is bringing a ham into work. “I should bring a ham into work!” shouts Chester. “Everyone loves ham! That would be great! A nice big ham at work!” Chester never mentions any other meat or baked good, but is fixated on ham. Only ham will do for his beloved coworkers! So every day, when he walks into the newsroom in his blindingly white jacket, I wait and hope that he pulls a ham out of his backpack and places it on the empty desk to share with everyone. But alas, months have passed, and no ham! Finally, out of the blue, as if he can read my mind, he tells me that he has no container big enough to fit a ham. As I’m typing away and he’s still trying to figure out what Fall-o-ween is, he looks at me and says ,“I have nothing to carry a ham in.” It was like watching a part of him die. Perhaps it was at that moment that he realized that bringing a ham to work would be ridiculous and difficult, and his dream of eating a freshly prepared ham while working died.
There are other amusing instances of Chester’s follies, like the time he wrote “to make ends meat” or when he asked me what “k-through-12” meant, but those are just a sampling of the daily shenanigans that go on at this office. They should really make a sitcom about it…
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Vampires vs Zombies: A look into the paranormal world of popular creatures
DISCLAIMER: Now that I'm out of school, my amount of mental stimulation has dropped significantly. The other day, I began a discussion with some friends about which are better; zombies or vampires. Since I had a couple days off and really feel strongly about vampires (more so the former reason than the latter), I decided to write an essay arguing that vampires are superior mythical creatures to zombies. I should really join a club or get a second job or something....
In this essay, I will discuss the advantages of vampires over zombies based on the following parameters: fear factor, fight, sex appeal, friendship and boyfriend-material-ness, popularity/media, myth/lore, and metaphor.
Vampires and zombies both have a place in paranormal pop culture, but vampires are the more significant of the two, given their lasting popularity among all age groups, their stable, yet adaptable legend, and their prominence as a metaphor for real-world outcasts.
I will begin with a basic discussion of the physical attributes of zombies and vampires. Both undead creatures are feared for their strength and ability to destroy humans. Zombies are humans who have died and risen again to either eat human brains or dance in a Michael Jackson video. They move rather slowly, but are not easily destroyed, since they are already dead. They are very ugly, appear to be smelly, and some have appendages attached by simple needle and thread. Vampires are also humans who have died and risen again, but their sole purpose is to terrorize humans, or as they like to call them, food. Vampires are sultry creatures of the night who are driven by a need for human blood. This leads into my argument that vampires are much scarier than zombies. Though the stench and appearance of zombies is quite terrifying, they are much less frightening in concept than vampires. Zombies are always immediately identifiable as zombies. Vampires, however, maintain their human form, and can possibly even improve upon that form. It is a natural first response to run from a zombie, since they are gross and eating human flesh/dancing to Thriller. Vampires, on the other hand, draw a person in using tricks as simple as seduction or as complex as hypnosis. A person might not even know he/she is dealing with a vampire until it is too late and they are lost in the ecstasy/agony of being completely blood-drained by a ferocious and sexy being. Therefore, vampires are far more frightening, because anyone could be a vampire. Zombies have no disguise, no mind tricks, and no speed. Vampires have all this and more. The only thing to defend yourself against a vampire would be a cross, garlic, silver, or a slayer, none of which are carried around by a normal person. While there are fewer things that can defend you against a zombie, a swift chopping off of its head will do the trick. Fire and joining in the Thriller dance can also aid in thwarting the zombie.
Admittedly, humans are weak, so the real challenge to decide between vamps and zombs would be to place the two in a battle against each other. Spoiler alert: Vampire wins. Although the vampire’s powers of seduction and mind games would not work on the zombie (because the zombie has no brain or lust), vampires are better fighters and have greater endurance than zombies. The vampire’s traditional threat – it’s teeth – would also be no use against the zombie, but vampires have many strengths, including strength. Each creature would have to rip the other’s head off to win. The only advantage the zombie would have is it’s brute strength, while the vampire has supernatural strength and speed, and in some cases, the ability to fly. Vampires are also clever, since they have maintained their human mind. Zombies are like the village idiots of the paranormal world. They have lots of strength and are physically capable, but they have no strategy or cleverness about them. A fight between a vampire and a zombie would end rather quickly. The zombie would lumber towards the vamp as the fanged felon casually lights up a cigarette, biding his time (being immortal, he literally has all the time in the world). When the vampire gets tired of waiting for the ridiculously slow zombie to make his way over, the vamp jumps in the air, landing on the zombie’s back, and rips his head off. The zombie didn’t stand a chance.
Sex appeal might seem like an unfair category to discuss when comparing vampires and zombies, considering that zombies are hideous, but it’s a vampire’s greatest strength, and certainly important when later discussing the media explosion of vampires. Though the original portrayal of Dracula by Bela Lugosi was not attractive in the slightest, vampires have come a long way in the looks department. Zombies have gone in the opposite direction. Frankenstein’s monster was vaguely attractive in a Beauty and the Beast sort of way – you could tell he had a soul and had once been beautiful (you know, before he was dug up and composed of various different people’s body parts). Since then, zombies have become diseased humans with exposed skeletons, blotchy skin, and oozing orifices. Vampires have become sex symbols, gracing magazine covers from Tiger Beat to Vogue. The Vampire Lestat, Angel, Bill Compton, and Edward Cullen are some of the most famous vampire hotties. And it’s not just male vampires that are appearing in lusty supernatural fantasies – Kate Beckinsale in Underworld got hearts racing, even though her character’s heart had stopped beating, and Salma Hayek had a memorable scene involving a bikini and a boa constrictor in From Dusk Til Dawn. A zombie has never been a sex symbol. Perhaps zombie killers could be considered sexy, but part of the appeal would be that they’re destroying the ugly.
Sex-appeal aside, who would make a better friend: zombie or vampire? It might seem contradictory to say that vampires would make better friends, considering that earlier in this essay, it was determined that they are more frightening. However, in personal relationships, vampires would prove to be more mentally stimulating and occasionally loyal. As was previously discussed, zombies have no brains, or at least no brain function. They simply exist to destroy humans. Also, they are extremely slow. Imagine going to the mall with your bff, the zombie. It would take an hour just to make it around the food court. He couldn’t offer you any good opinions on clothing options, and he certainly couldn’t grasp the concept of making fun of emo kids in Hot Topic. Also, he would discourage anyone else from talking to you given his appearance and stench. Hanging out with a zombie would basically be like having a really ugly, decomposing dog with you. A vampire friend might be dangerous, but at least it would be exciting. In some cases, vampires have been able to maintain relationships with humans. For example, Angel had a soul, and was thus a great buddy to Buffy and her pals. In True Blood, Bill Compton swears off human blood and drinks only synthetic blood so that he can be with his human love. In Twilight…actually, let’s not talk about Twilight because I refuse to subscribe to the idea of sparkly vampires. A vampire friend would be like having a bodyguard…a really hot bodyguard. A vampire would know all the great place to go at night. True, you couldn’t share garlic bread, but your vampire could tell you stories about what life was like 100 years ago and you could talk to him about what the sun looks like these days. A person would be very lucky to bag themselves a loyal vampire with a soul, because that would be one great friendship.
Lately, zombies and vampires seem to be battling it out for popularity and prominence in the media. Movies like Zombieland and 28 Days Later proved popular with a college crowd. However, there are far more media outlets that vampires have claimed dominance in. TV shows like True Blood and Buffy the Vampire Slayer have developed cult followings, and in Buffy’s case, this following lasts long after the series is off the air. Books range from Anne Rice’s intricate description of a New Orleans vampire to Stephanie Meyer’s inane, yet tween alluring, Twilight. Dracula is a classic novel that is taught in high schools, and has been adapted into films several times. Zombies provide entertainment and fright, but a zombie could never be a main character, given its lack of verbal communication and it’s grotesque appearance. Vampires maintain the lead in the paranormal popularity contest given their ability to appear human and super-human, making them relatable and unattainable—everything a celebrity should be. Zombies will always be a part of horror films, but vampires have successfully preserved their place in mainstream pop culture throughout the years.
The legends of zombies and vampires have changed over the years, and varies depending on who you ask. Zombies are sometimes humans brought back from the dead, and other times they are humans infected with a virus. Some are fast, some are slow. Vampires have even more variation—some can be thwarted by silver, some are bothered by crosses. Some can fly, some can go out during the light, some need coffins. Numerous variations in myth might seem indecisive and inconsistent to a fault, but it leaves room for experimentation. There’s not much to play around with in zombie lore—in all cases, they cannot relate to humans and thus are strictly scary, killing machines. The myth of vampires can be molded to place the creatures in different settings and situations. Your imagination can run wild and you can make up your own rules, given you stay with the basic tenets that vampires drink blood, are supernatural, and are undead. This mutable legend is part of the reasons vampires have maintained popularity. As culture changes, so do vampires. They can go to high school, fall in love with a waitress, or regain their soul. Having a loose, varying legend is a good thing, because this ensures that the myth will be fresh and adaptable for future generations.
These myths not only serve to create great stories and fear, but they also exist as metaphors. No matter what the scenario, vampires are metaphors for the outcast in society. They are not accepted by the general public and cannot even go out in the daylight. They're persecuted for their unconventional ways. Sometimes, the metaphor is for an evil outcast that must be destroyed, such as in Dracula. In other media texts, vampires are symbols of the misunderstood outcast who does not deserve persecution. In True Blood, for example, vampires “come out of the coffin” and reveal themselves to humans in an attempt to “mainstream”. This is a clear allusion to the gay community and their attempts to be accepted by mainstream culture. Another facet of the outcast metaphor is overt sexuality. Vampires exude sex in a society that censors. Vampires stand for raw human sexuality, thus they are hidden under cloak of night and seen as a threat to stability and safety. Twilight (sorry, I didn’t want to talk about it, but it really fits in with this argument) takes the side of cloaking sexuality and uses the vampire metaphor to stress chastity and self-control. Anne Rice’s vampires see feeding on humans as a sexual outlet, insinuating that they survive on sex itself. However it is used, vampires provide a powerful metaphor from something as simple as representing the high school bad boy to something as complex as symbolizing a puritanical society’s fear of sexual expression. Zombies, save for Frankenstein’s monster, represent nothing. Frankenstein was the apex of zombie culture, and everything after that has been for pure fun and fright. There is nothing wrong with a paranormal myth existing purely for entertainment, but this only furthers the point that vampires are more complex and significant creatures. If anything, zombies represent poor hygiene or, at their most complex, biological warfare, but either of those metaphors is a stretch. Zombies are zombies. Vampires are much more.
From Bela Lugosi to Bill Compton, vampires have grown in legend, sex appeal, and popularity. Their mystique has been consistent, but their meaning and power in the pop culture world has changed. Zombies will also have a place in paranormal culture, but as of now, their popularity seems limited to snarky college students. Vampires span the ages and draw in various demographics. A vampire would kill a zombie and then flash a fang-filled smile that makes your heart skip a beat out of both lust and fear. At the base of this argument is that zombies are predictable while vampires, with their adaptable legend and soulless sex appeal, are dangerous and exciting.
In this essay, I will discuss the advantages of vampires over zombies based on the following parameters: fear factor, fight, sex appeal, friendship and boyfriend-material-ness, popularity/media, myth/lore, and metaphor.
Vampires and zombies both have a place in paranormal pop culture, but vampires are the more significant of the two, given their lasting popularity among all age groups, their stable, yet adaptable legend, and their prominence as a metaphor for real-world outcasts.
I will begin with a basic discussion of the physical attributes of zombies and vampires. Both undead creatures are feared for their strength and ability to destroy humans. Zombies are humans who have died and risen again to either eat human brains or dance in a Michael Jackson video. They move rather slowly, but are not easily destroyed, since they are already dead. They are very ugly, appear to be smelly, and some have appendages attached by simple needle and thread. Vampires are also humans who have died and risen again, but their sole purpose is to terrorize humans, or as they like to call them, food. Vampires are sultry creatures of the night who are driven by a need for human blood. This leads into my argument that vampires are much scarier than zombies. Though the stench and appearance of zombies is quite terrifying, they are much less frightening in concept than vampires. Zombies are always immediately identifiable as zombies. Vampires, however, maintain their human form, and can possibly even improve upon that form. It is a natural first response to run from a zombie, since they are gross and eating human flesh/dancing to Thriller. Vampires, on the other hand, draw a person in using tricks as simple as seduction or as complex as hypnosis. A person might not even know he/she is dealing with a vampire until it is too late and they are lost in the ecstasy/agony of being completely blood-drained by a ferocious and sexy being. Therefore, vampires are far more frightening, because anyone could be a vampire. Zombies have no disguise, no mind tricks, and no speed. Vampires have all this and more. The only thing to defend yourself against a vampire would be a cross, garlic, silver, or a slayer, none of which are carried around by a normal person. While there are fewer things that can defend you against a zombie, a swift chopping off of its head will do the trick. Fire and joining in the Thriller dance can also aid in thwarting the zombie.
Admittedly, humans are weak, so the real challenge to decide between vamps and zombs would be to place the two in a battle against each other. Spoiler alert: Vampire wins. Although the vampire’s powers of seduction and mind games would not work on the zombie (because the zombie has no brain or lust), vampires are better fighters and have greater endurance than zombies. The vampire’s traditional threat – it’s teeth – would also be no use against the zombie, but vampires have many strengths, including strength. Each creature would have to rip the other’s head off to win. The only advantage the zombie would have is it’s brute strength, while the vampire has supernatural strength and speed, and in some cases, the ability to fly. Vampires are also clever, since they have maintained their human mind. Zombies are like the village idiots of the paranormal world. They have lots of strength and are physically capable, but they have no strategy or cleverness about them. A fight between a vampire and a zombie would end rather quickly. The zombie would lumber towards the vamp as the fanged felon casually lights up a cigarette, biding his time (being immortal, he literally has all the time in the world). When the vampire gets tired of waiting for the ridiculously slow zombie to make his way over, the vamp jumps in the air, landing on the zombie’s back, and rips his head off. The zombie didn’t stand a chance.
Sex appeal might seem like an unfair category to discuss when comparing vampires and zombies, considering that zombies are hideous, but it’s a vampire’s greatest strength, and certainly important when later discussing the media explosion of vampires. Though the original portrayal of Dracula by Bela Lugosi was not attractive in the slightest, vampires have come a long way in the looks department. Zombies have gone in the opposite direction. Frankenstein’s monster was vaguely attractive in a Beauty and the Beast sort of way – you could tell he had a soul and had once been beautiful (you know, before he was dug up and composed of various different people’s body parts). Since then, zombies have become diseased humans with exposed skeletons, blotchy skin, and oozing orifices. Vampires have become sex symbols, gracing magazine covers from Tiger Beat to Vogue. The Vampire Lestat, Angel, Bill Compton, and Edward Cullen are some of the most famous vampire hotties. And it’s not just male vampires that are appearing in lusty supernatural fantasies – Kate Beckinsale in Underworld got hearts racing, even though her character’s heart had stopped beating, and Salma Hayek had a memorable scene involving a bikini and a boa constrictor in From Dusk Til Dawn. A zombie has never been a sex symbol. Perhaps zombie killers could be considered sexy, but part of the appeal would be that they’re destroying the ugly.
Sex-appeal aside, who would make a better friend: zombie or vampire? It might seem contradictory to say that vampires would make better friends, considering that earlier in this essay, it was determined that they are more frightening. However, in personal relationships, vampires would prove to be more mentally stimulating and occasionally loyal. As was previously discussed, zombies have no brains, or at least no brain function. They simply exist to destroy humans. Also, they are extremely slow. Imagine going to the mall with your bff, the zombie. It would take an hour just to make it around the food court. He couldn’t offer you any good opinions on clothing options, and he certainly couldn’t grasp the concept of making fun of emo kids in Hot Topic. Also, he would discourage anyone else from talking to you given his appearance and stench. Hanging out with a zombie would basically be like having a really ugly, decomposing dog with you. A vampire friend might be dangerous, but at least it would be exciting. In some cases, vampires have been able to maintain relationships with humans. For example, Angel had a soul, and was thus a great buddy to Buffy and her pals. In True Blood, Bill Compton swears off human blood and drinks only synthetic blood so that he can be with his human love. In Twilight…actually, let’s not talk about Twilight because I refuse to subscribe to the idea of sparkly vampires. A vampire friend would be like having a bodyguard…a really hot bodyguard. A vampire would know all the great place to go at night. True, you couldn’t share garlic bread, but your vampire could tell you stories about what life was like 100 years ago and you could talk to him about what the sun looks like these days. A person would be very lucky to bag themselves a loyal vampire with a soul, because that would be one great friendship.
Lately, zombies and vampires seem to be battling it out for popularity and prominence in the media. Movies like Zombieland and 28 Days Later proved popular with a college crowd. However, there are far more media outlets that vampires have claimed dominance in. TV shows like True Blood and Buffy the Vampire Slayer have developed cult followings, and in Buffy’s case, this following lasts long after the series is off the air. Books range from Anne Rice’s intricate description of a New Orleans vampire to Stephanie Meyer’s inane, yet tween alluring, Twilight. Dracula is a classic novel that is taught in high schools, and has been adapted into films several times. Zombies provide entertainment and fright, but a zombie could never be a main character, given its lack of verbal communication and it’s grotesque appearance. Vampires maintain the lead in the paranormal popularity contest given their ability to appear human and super-human, making them relatable and unattainable—everything a celebrity should be. Zombies will always be a part of horror films, but vampires have successfully preserved their place in mainstream pop culture throughout the years.
The legends of zombies and vampires have changed over the years, and varies depending on who you ask. Zombies are sometimes humans brought back from the dead, and other times they are humans infected with a virus. Some are fast, some are slow. Vampires have even more variation—some can be thwarted by silver, some are bothered by crosses. Some can fly, some can go out during the light, some need coffins. Numerous variations in myth might seem indecisive and inconsistent to a fault, but it leaves room for experimentation. There’s not much to play around with in zombie lore—in all cases, they cannot relate to humans and thus are strictly scary, killing machines. The myth of vampires can be molded to place the creatures in different settings and situations. Your imagination can run wild and you can make up your own rules, given you stay with the basic tenets that vampires drink blood, are supernatural, and are undead. This mutable legend is part of the reasons vampires have maintained popularity. As culture changes, so do vampires. They can go to high school, fall in love with a waitress, or regain their soul. Having a loose, varying legend is a good thing, because this ensures that the myth will be fresh and adaptable for future generations.
These myths not only serve to create great stories and fear, but they also exist as metaphors. No matter what the scenario, vampires are metaphors for the outcast in society. They are not accepted by the general public and cannot even go out in the daylight. They're persecuted for their unconventional ways. Sometimes, the metaphor is for an evil outcast that must be destroyed, such as in Dracula. In other media texts, vampires are symbols of the misunderstood outcast who does not deserve persecution. In True Blood, for example, vampires “come out of the coffin” and reveal themselves to humans in an attempt to “mainstream”. This is a clear allusion to the gay community and their attempts to be accepted by mainstream culture. Another facet of the outcast metaphor is overt sexuality. Vampires exude sex in a society that censors. Vampires stand for raw human sexuality, thus they are hidden under cloak of night and seen as a threat to stability and safety. Twilight (sorry, I didn’t want to talk about it, but it really fits in with this argument) takes the side of cloaking sexuality and uses the vampire metaphor to stress chastity and self-control. Anne Rice’s vampires see feeding on humans as a sexual outlet, insinuating that they survive on sex itself. However it is used, vampires provide a powerful metaphor from something as simple as representing the high school bad boy to something as complex as symbolizing a puritanical society’s fear of sexual expression. Zombies, save for Frankenstein’s monster, represent nothing. Frankenstein was the apex of zombie culture, and everything after that has been for pure fun and fright. There is nothing wrong with a paranormal myth existing purely for entertainment, but this only furthers the point that vampires are more complex and significant creatures. If anything, zombies represent poor hygiene or, at their most complex, biological warfare, but either of those metaphors is a stretch. Zombies are zombies. Vampires are much more.
From Bela Lugosi to Bill Compton, vampires have grown in legend, sex appeal, and popularity. Their mystique has been consistent, but their meaning and power in the pop culture world has changed. Zombies will also have a place in paranormal culture, but as of now, their popularity seems limited to snarky college students. Vampires span the ages and draw in various demographics. A vampire would kill a zombie and then flash a fang-filled smile that makes your heart skip a beat out of both lust and fear. At the base of this argument is that zombies are predictable while vampires, with their adaptable legend and soulless sex appeal, are dangerous and exciting.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
An Enchanting Transition
You may have noticed that I haven’t posted a new blog in awhile (the “you” refers to my mom). Though the last two posts bemoaned the fact that finding a job during the Great Recession is tough, I now have a job, thus the lack of posting. I moved back to South Bend to work at a news station as a production assistant. It’s pretty bottom rung, but I love the work and the atmosphere of the news station, so I’ll just count it as a step toward my future.
Of course, moving to Indiana and starting a job is not without adventure. First, I had to find an apartment. South Bend apartments range from the run-down (recently busted for meth) to the over-priced ($1200/month for a one-bedroom!), but I finally managed to pick one that suited me perfectly. The complex itself has a castle theme, complete with turrets and flags and medieval-looking street lamps (or how I imagine street lamps would look in medieval times if they had electricity). The complex has about 700 apartments divided into sections with quirky little names like The Royal Huntsman’s Court, Coachman’s Trail, and The Royal Vineyards. I managed to score a prime spot in the best building—The Enchanted Forest. That’s right, I live in the Enchanted Forest. Giving my address to strangers at the post office or bank does not come without a smirk or a raised eyebrow. People want to add a “street” or a “road” to the end of the name, but my address is simply “The Enchanted Forest.” Songbirds fly in to dress me each morning and woodland creatures clean my apartment while humming catchy tunes. My mail is delivered on horseback and fairies prepare my meals. Good thing I don’t live on a second floor apartment, or else I would have to grow my hair out in order to have guests over.
In reality, my apartment is very cute and I’ve done a fairly good job of making it homey. I like living alone, except I have to have people over once in a while to bring me back to reality. Too much alone time, and I start losing sense of social graces. Living by myself definitely has it’s perks – watching whatever I want on TV, never having to wear pants, drinking milk straight out of the carton. However, it’s a little strange to laugh out loud by yourself while watching The Office. It’s even stranger when I’ve become so comfortable with it that I start talking to the TV. Every once in a while, I’ll take a step back, re-evaluate, and return to some sense of civility – I’ll put my pants back on, close the bathroom door while showering, stop singing what I’m doing, and open the blinds to give myself encouragement to stay this way. I keep thinking that getting a cat will improve my hermit-ways, but I don’t know if talking to a cat is much better than talking to a television.
To break in my apartment, I’ve had a few get-togethers, and they have been fairly successful. I’m getting better at cooking, though I still manage to make a mess doing the simplest things, like reheating soup on the stove. My first dinner party involved chili and Funfetti cake. The chili turned out great, and all was going well until I cut the cake. As a lifted a piece out of the pan, it pulled away a very noticeable and very long hair from the middle of the cake. Horrified, I pulled it out as quickly as possible, hoping no one would notice. I looked up to see John Minser staring at me, looking partially disgusted, and partially amused at my baking faux pas. I took that piece for myself, and made a mental note to more securely tie my hair back when cooking.
The job is going well, and I’m doing fine living on my own. It’s good to be back in South Bend, where I still have a lot of friends and am familiar with the area. Though I had hoped to end up in a big city (ideally Chicago), this is turning out to be a great transition. Now it’s time for me to go feed the unicorns that live outside my apartment…
Of course, moving to Indiana and starting a job is not without adventure. First, I had to find an apartment. South Bend apartments range from the run-down (recently busted for meth) to the over-priced ($1200/month for a one-bedroom!), but I finally managed to pick one that suited me perfectly. The complex itself has a castle theme, complete with turrets and flags and medieval-looking street lamps (or how I imagine street lamps would look in medieval times if they had electricity). The complex has about 700 apartments divided into sections with quirky little names like The Royal Huntsman’s Court, Coachman’s Trail, and The Royal Vineyards. I managed to score a prime spot in the best building—The Enchanted Forest. That’s right, I live in the Enchanted Forest. Giving my address to strangers at the post office or bank does not come without a smirk or a raised eyebrow. People want to add a “street” or a “road” to the end of the name, but my address is simply “The Enchanted Forest.” Songbirds fly in to dress me each morning and woodland creatures clean my apartment while humming catchy tunes. My mail is delivered on horseback and fairies prepare my meals. Good thing I don’t live on a second floor apartment, or else I would have to grow my hair out in order to have guests over.
In reality, my apartment is very cute and I’ve done a fairly good job of making it homey. I like living alone, except I have to have people over once in a while to bring me back to reality. Too much alone time, and I start losing sense of social graces. Living by myself definitely has it’s perks – watching whatever I want on TV, never having to wear pants, drinking milk straight out of the carton. However, it’s a little strange to laugh out loud by yourself while watching The Office. It’s even stranger when I’ve become so comfortable with it that I start talking to the TV. Every once in a while, I’ll take a step back, re-evaluate, and return to some sense of civility – I’ll put my pants back on, close the bathroom door while showering, stop singing what I’m doing, and open the blinds to give myself encouragement to stay this way. I keep thinking that getting a cat will improve my hermit-ways, but I don’t know if talking to a cat is much better than talking to a television.
To break in my apartment, I’ve had a few get-togethers, and they have been fairly successful. I’m getting better at cooking, though I still manage to make a mess doing the simplest things, like reheating soup on the stove. My first dinner party involved chili and Funfetti cake. The chili turned out great, and all was going well until I cut the cake. As a lifted a piece out of the pan, it pulled away a very noticeable and very long hair from the middle of the cake. Horrified, I pulled it out as quickly as possible, hoping no one would notice. I looked up to see John Minser staring at me, looking partially disgusted, and partially amused at my baking faux pas. I took that piece for myself, and made a mental note to more securely tie my hair back when cooking.
The job is going well, and I’m doing fine living on my own. It’s good to be back in South Bend, where I still have a lot of friends and am familiar with the area. Though I had hoped to end up in a big city (ideally Chicago), this is turning out to be a great transition. Now it’s time for me to go feed the unicorns that live outside my apartment…
Friday, August 21, 2009
Decoding the Job Hunt
If you read my last post, you might begin to understand my frustration in job searching. But the broad reasons I gave are just the tip of the unemployed iceberg. There are countless annoying, ridiculous, senseless, and just plain stupid qualities of the job search that are present regardless of the job market. So if you are an undergrad and want to be discouraged out of graduating, or if you are employed and want to reminisce about how stupid interview etiquette is, then read on.
Emails (or, back in the “old days”, letters) sent to a potential employer must be written in a code that expresses what you want without really saying it. For example, if I am applying for a job at NBC, I send a cover letter that begins something like this:
“As a senior marketing and television major at the University of Notre Dame, I am interested in NBC’s East Coast Page Program. With its worldwide audience, variety of programming, and innovative achievements in new media, NBC is an ideal company to begin my career. I am specifically interested in the Page Program because of the opportunities it provides to explore different departments at NBC and because of its history of successful participants.”
So what did that really mean? Allow me to decipher for you:
“Dear NBC,
I am educated and unemployed. You are a thriving company. I will work for pennies. Hire me.”
Now what’s frustrating is that I can’t actually say that. It would save everyone a lot of time if I could just say, “Look, I have the skills and the education to do this job. Look at my resume and see for yourself. I want this job. Hire me.” But I can’t, because that is improper etiquette.
In the middle of the cover letter, I tout my skills and experiences with the help of a thesaurus because I’ve already used “skills” and “experience” 5 times. Basically, I elaborate on my resume, but wouldn’t a busy HR person rather just glance over my resume than read a lengthy paragraph about how I became so proficient in Final Cut Pro? It says in bold print on my resume that I am proficient in Final Cut Pro. Do they need proof? Is that the reason I need to explain exactly how I rose through the ranks of my college’s television station to become an editor extraordinaire?
Then there’s the last paragraph, which looks like this:
“If selected for the East Coast Page Program, I would commit myself to representing NBC with excellence and hard work. Thank you for your consideration. If you have any questions, please feel free to contact me at…”
Translation:
“Please please please please please please please hire me!”
So put it all together, and this is what a decoded cover letter is really saying:
“Hey you, I am educated and skilled. I want this job. Check out my resume. I’m begging for this job!”
Think of how much time we could all save if it were that simple? HR people could take longer coffee breaks. I could use the time I spent looking up synonyms for power adjectives to work on my reel. And at the end of the day, the best person would probably still get hired, because when it comes down to it, they will just look at your resume and who you know.
If you are lucky enough to get an interview, you must learn to speak this mysterious job etiquette code. First, you dress the part by wearing that suit you got for just such occasions, but since you’ve never worn it, you have to take the tags of and get used to how uncomfortable suits are. Then, you pack up your folder with your resume, references, and reel, and head on over to the office. This all sounds doable until you get in there and they ask you something ridiculous like “Why do you want this job?” They’re expecting an answer that flatters their company and expresses your childhood dreams of working at a production house in the old B.F. Goodrich warehouse, so that’s what you tell them. But etiquette aside, the answer would be, “Because I need to make money and gain experience wherever I can get it.” The game goes on for 15 minutes to 3 hours, however narcissistic the employer is, then you leave and wait for their hiring decision.
And you wait.
And wait.
Still waiting.
After a couple weeks of waiting, you haven’t heard a yay or nay from this company. You start to second-guess yourself. Did I flatter them enough? Did I compliment their floor tiling? Did I have a firm handshake? Was it weird that I was wearing a suit and they were wearing jeans? You need an answer, but calling and demanding one would be poor etiquette. So, you send an email that reads something like this:
“Dear Mr. Blank,
I am still very interested in the job opening with Company X. If there is anything else I can do to help with your decision, please do not hesitate to let me know. Thank you!”
Short, sweet, and completely false. By this time, you have given them your resume, cover letter, work samples, list of references, and you’ve taken the special test that all their employees have to take. Unless they need a neck message, there is absolutely nothing you can do to help with their decision. You know what this email really means, and so does the employer. It means, “I’m still here and unemployed!”
Finally, just when you’ve forgotten about the interview, they send you an email saying, “Thank you for applying to the position of X. We had a record number of applicants and can honestly say that the decision was very difficult. Unfortunately, we will not be able to hire you at this time. We will keep your record on file for any future openings.”
This is the job equivalent of “It’s not you, it’s me.” They did not have a record number of applicants, and the decision probably wasn’t that hard, but at least they tried to sugar coat a rejection. What they really mean to say is:
“This other kid was way better than you. Plus, his uncle works here. Sorry, but not really.”
And then the whole vicious cycle of etiquette and lies starts again.
Emails (or, back in the “old days”, letters) sent to a potential employer must be written in a code that expresses what you want without really saying it. For example, if I am applying for a job at NBC, I send a cover letter that begins something like this:
“As a senior marketing and television major at the University of Notre Dame, I am interested in NBC’s East Coast Page Program. With its worldwide audience, variety of programming, and innovative achievements in new media, NBC is an ideal company to begin my career. I am specifically interested in the Page Program because of the opportunities it provides to explore different departments at NBC and because of its history of successful participants.”
So what did that really mean? Allow me to decipher for you:
“Dear NBC,
I am educated and unemployed. You are a thriving company. I will work for pennies. Hire me.”
Now what’s frustrating is that I can’t actually say that. It would save everyone a lot of time if I could just say, “Look, I have the skills and the education to do this job. Look at my resume and see for yourself. I want this job. Hire me.” But I can’t, because that is improper etiquette.
In the middle of the cover letter, I tout my skills and experiences with the help of a thesaurus because I’ve already used “skills” and “experience” 5 times. Basically, I elaborate on my resume, but wouldn’t a busy HR person rather just glance over my resume than read a lengthy paragraph about how I became so proficient in Final Cut Pro? It says in bold print on my resume that I am proficient in Final Cut Pro. Do they need proof? Is that the reason I need to explain exactly how I rose through the ranks of my college’s television station to become an editor extraordinaire?
Then there’s the last paragraph, which looks like this:
“If selected for the East Coast Page Program, I would commit myself to representing NBC with excellence and hard work. Thank you for your consideration. If you have any questions, please feel free to contact me at…”
Translation:
“Please please please please please please please hire me!”
So put it all together, and this is what a decoded cover letter is really saying:
“Hey you, I am educated and skilled. I want this job. Check out my resume. I’m begging for this job!”
Think of how much time we could all save if it were that simple? HR people could take longer coffee breaks. I could use the time I spent looking up synonyms for power adjectives to work on my reel. And at the end of the day, the best person would probably still get hired, because when it comes down to it, they will just look at your resume and who you know.
If you are lucky enough to get an interview, you must learn to speak this mysterious job etiquette code. First, you dress the part by wearing that suit you got for just such occasions, but since you’ve never worn it, you have to take the tags of and get used to how uncomfortable suits are. Then, you pack up your folder with your resume, references, and reel, and head on over to the office. This all sounds doable until you get in there and they ask you something ridiculous like “Why do you want this job?” They’re expecting an answer that flatters their company and expresses your childhood dreams of working at a production house in the old B.F. Goodrich warehouse, so that’s what you tell them. But etiquette aside, the answer would be, “Because I need to make money and gain experience wherever I can get it.” The game goes on for 15 minutes to 3 hours, however narcissistic the employer is, then you leave and wait for their hiring decision.
And you wait.
And wait.
Still waiting.
After a couple weeks of waiting, you haven’t heard a yay or nay from this company. You start to second-guess yourself. Did I flatter them enough? Did I compliment their floor tiling? Did I have a firm handshake? Was it weird that I was wearing a suit and they were wearing jeans? You need an answer, but calling and demanding one would be poor etiquette. So, you send an email that reads something like this:
“Dear Mr. Blank,
I am still very interested in the job opening with Company X. If there is anything else I can do to help with your decision, please do not hesitate to let me know. Thank you!”
Short, sweet, and completely false. By this time, you have given them your resume, cover letter, work samples, list of references, and you’ve taken the special test that all their employees have to take. Unless they need a neck message, there is absolutely nothing you can do to help with their decision. You know what this email really means, and so does the employer. It means, “I’m still here and unemployed!”
Finally, just when you’ve forgotten about the interview, they send you an email saying, “Thank you for applying to the position of X. We had a record number of applicants and can honestly say that the decision was very difficult. Unfortunately, we will not be able to hire you at this time. We will keep your record on file for any future openings.”
This is the job equivalent of “It’s not you, it’s me.” They did not have a record number of applicants, and the decision probably wasn’t that hard, but at least they tried to sugar coat a rejection. What they really mean to say is:
“This other kid was way better than you. Plus, his uncle works here. Sorry, but not really.”
And then the whole vicious cycle of etiquette and lies starts again.
Monday, August 10, 2009
What the Class of '09 is Thinking
It's now been 3 months since I've graduated. I'm living at home with my parents, without a job, and have been out of contact with 20-somethings this entire summer. After working hard all throughout my school life--taking the right classes, getting good grades, going to the right school--I have not obtained what I had been promised--employment in my chosen field. My generation was brought up in a society of encouragement and can-do attitude, where we were promised that we could accomplish anything with a little hard work. Too bad the previous generations screwed that up for us. Now I, along with all the other marketing, political science, english, and other non-accounting majors out there, am stuck in life limbo. We have outstanding resumes, glowing recommendations, and great experience. We have dreams of apartments and city life inspired by Friends and Sex and the City. We have goals of career-oriented success that is symptomatic of my generation's competitive, ambitious, and somewhat entitled nature. Yet, most of us can't even get an interview.
Though the economy is the largest contributor to the class of 2009's plight, the system of job applications is also at fault. Help-wanted signs are not just posted in store fronts, but on websites as a sort of national casting call. When thousands of bright young hopefuls submit their well-polished resumes to the same job, it's the ones who are familiar to the HR director who get noticed. It's all about who you know, but in an age of instant communication, familiarity has many facets. There's the real-life in-person connections--coworkers, friends, family, professors. At this point in my job search, these sources have been tapped out. I've used all the advice they gave me and applied to the job openings they told me about, but nothing worked out. The next level is fellow alumni--using Facebook, LinkedIn, and the ND alumni directory, I can search and stalk any registered alum in any given field. The problem is, so can everyone else. These sources have also become tapped out--they are tired of giving advice, and quite frankly have no new advice to give in an economic situation they are trying to come to terms with themselves. While they would love to help a fellow alum, they simply can't. The third level of familiarity is everyone else in the world. Social networking sites make getting to know someone without their knowledge pretty easy. With just a name and company, I can find out the HR guy's favorite band, girlfriend's name, high school mascot, etc. So you could say that I know him. And if it's really all about who you know, shouldn't I get noticed among the thousands of resumes he has to sort through? It seems these sources are tapped out, too. I guess when your job is to look through all the applications that are flooding your inbox, it's just easier to hire your best friend's nephew than to look for the best person for the job.
Maybe now you are beginning to understand the frustration in unemployment. Granted, I have it much better than some--I am very fortunate to not have loans to pay off and to have parents who support me and let me live at home. This just isn't how I pictured my life at 22. My twenties are being wasted away in a high school throwback. I have potential; I've prepared for a career and now I'm ready to start one. I submit at least 30 applications a week. If I'm lucky enough to hear anything back at all, it's usually an automatic message that says the company isn't hiring at this time, but promising to keep my resume on file. I'm throwing all my personal information into cyberspace and none of it is boomeranging back. It all seemingly gets lost in this cyberspace abyss, though my junkmail has increased. I'm working every day to look for a job, and though I might not be finding anything, I am doing my best. Which leads me to the next section of this essay...
Don't tell me what I should be doing. This goes mostly out to my mom's friends, my dad's golf buddies, my grandma's church friends, the guy at the bank, the receptionist at the doctor's office, and everyone else who feels the need to put their 2-cents in. I realize I might sound cruel and unappreciative, and I know that most people bring up the job thing for lack of something to talk about, but please, talk about the weather instead. Here is my explanation:
1) Do not tell me what job search engines to use. Do you honestly think I haven't heard of mandy.com already? I have explored every crevice of the internet, so unless you just invented a job site that is guaranteed to hire me, don't bother.
2) Do not assume that because I majored in marketing, I want to go into sales. I am not a people-person (can't you tell?) and in this economic climate, sales is the last thing I want to do. Also, I want to go into videography or television production, so don't make me give up on that just yet.
3a) Do not say "It's all about who you know" and...
3b) Do not push your contacts on me. I have figured out by now that networking is key, but unless you personally know Al Roker, I don't care that your uncle's best friend's cousin has a quaint little marketing company in Kansas. Also, I don't like feeling like I owe you for something I didn't want in the first place.
4) Do not say "Man, I wish I had time like you have. Being unemployed sounds great." How insulting of you to think I want to be in this situation and that it's ideal or enjoyable for me to be squandering away untapped potential and thousands of dollars of education. You're job may be hard, but you have one in an economic climate when so many others don't.
5) Do not look at me with sympathy or treat me like I am pathetic. The worst part of this is feeling like a sad example of the nation's downturn. I am not pathetic. I am working on finding work. If I had graduated any other year, I would have work, so do not assume that I am lazy or unqualified or pathetic.
The moral of this story is don't bring up the job thing. If you truly have a connection or know of an opening in videography or television production, then by all means, let me know. Otherwise, this is my problem to solve, not yours. To all those in the same situation, this sucks, huh? We've been dealt a horrible hand, but I guess we just have to play it out. To quote one of the less annoying comments people make about my situation, "At least you're not alone." With more people applying to grad school, that option might be more difficult than expected, too. At least I have plenty of time to bump up those GRE scores...
Though the economy is the largest contributor to the class of 2009's plight, the system of job applications is also at fault. Help-wanted signs are not just posted in store fronts, but on websites as a sort of national casting call. When thousands of bright young hopefuls submit their well-polished resumes to the same job, it's the ones who are familiar to the HR director who get noticed. It's all about who you know, but in an age of instant communication, familiarity has many facets. There's the real-life in-person connections--coworkers, friends, family, professors. At this point in my job search, these sources have been tapped out. I've used all the advice they gave me and applied to the job openings they told me about, but nothing worked out. The next level is fellow alumni--using Facebook, LinkedIn, and the ND alumni directory, I can search and stalk any registered alum in any given field. The problem is, so can everyone else. These sources have also become tapped out--they are tired of giving advice, and quite frankly have no new advice to give in an economic situation they are trying to come to terms with themselves. While they would love to help a fellow alum, they simply can't. The third level of familiarity is everyone else in the world. Social networking sites make getting to know someone without their knowledge pretty easy. With just a name and company, I can find out the HR guy's favorite band, girlfriend's name, high school mascot, etc. So you could say that I know him. And if it's really all about who you know, shouldn't I get noticed among the thousands of resumes he has to sort through? It seems these sources are tapped out, too. I guess when your job is to look through all the applications that are flooding your inbox, it's just easier to hire your best friend's nephew than to look for the best person for the job.
Maybe now you are beginning to understand the frustration in unemployment. Granted, I have it much better than some--I am very fortunate to not have loans to pay off and to have parents who support me and let me live at home. This just isn't how I pictured my life at 22. My twenties are being wasted away in a high school throwback. I have potential; I've prepared for a career and now I'm ready to start one. I submit at least 30 applications a week. If I'm lucky enough to hear anything back at all, it's usually an automatic message that says the company isn't hiring at this time, but promising to keep my resume on file. I'm throwing all my personal information into cyberspace and none of it is boomeranging back. It all seemingly gets lost in this cyberspace abyss, though my junkmail has increased. I'm working every day to look for a job, and though I might not be finding anything, I am doing my best. Which leads me to the next section of this essay...
Don't tell me what I should be doing. This goes mostly out to my mom's friends, my dad's golf buddies, my grandma's church friends, the guy at the bank, the receptionist at the doctor's office, and everyone else who feels the need to put their 2-cents in. I realize I might sound cruel and unappreciative, and I know that most people bring up the job thing for lack of something to talk about, but please, talk about the weather instead. Here is my explanation:
1) Do not tell me what job search engines to use. Do you honestly think I haven't heard of mandy.com already? I have explored every crevice of the internet, so unless you just invented a job site that is guaranteed to hire me, don't bother.
2) Do not assume that because I majored in marketing, I want to go into sales. I am not a people-person (can't you tell?) and in this economic climate, sales is the last thing I want to do. Also, I want to go into videography or television production, so don't make me give up on that just yet.
3a) Do not say "It's all about who you know" and...
3b) Do not push your contacts on me. I have figured out by now that networking is key, but unless you personally know Al Roker, I don't care that your uncle's best friend's cousin has a quaint little marketing company in Kansas. Also, I don't like feeling like I owe you for something I didn't want in the first place.
4) Do not say "Man, I wish I had time like you have. Being unemployed sounds great." How insulting of you to think I want to be in this situation and that it's ideal or enjoyable for me to be squandering away untapped potential and thousands of dollars of education. You're job may be hard, but you have one in an economic climate when so many others don't.
5) Do not look at me with sympathy or treat me like I am pathetic. The worst part of this is feeling like a sad example of the nation's downturn. I am not pathetic. I am working on finding work. If I had graduated any other year, I would have work, so do not assume that I am lazy or unqualified or pathetic.
The moral of this story is don't bring up the job thing. If you truly have a connection or know of an opening in videography or television production, then by all means, let me know. Otherwise, this is my problem to solve, not yours. To all those in the same situation, this sucks, huh? We've been dealt a horrible hand, but I guess we just have to play it out. To quote one of the less annoying comments people make about my situation, "At least you're not alone." With more people applying to grad school, that option might be more difficult than expected, too. At least I have plenty of time to bump up those GRE scores...
Friday, July 24, 2009
Yahners vs. Europe Part 4: St. John's Pyrotechnic Party
At this point, you might be thinking "Geez, another installment of Yahners vs. Europe? Hasn't there been enough wacky European adventures?" Perhaps, and this same thought might have crossed each of our minds as we were on vacation, but we still have two more stops to make. Just deal with it and keep reading.
Our drive to the coastal towns of Cinqueterre started off fine. We navigated our way through the highway and to the main roads. When the streets got increasingly narrow and decreasingly even, things got a little dicey. We were using my GPS for directions, and so far, she had steered us correctly. But I should have known something would go wrong. She did once tell me to turn right at the end of a cul-de-sac, so I knew that she had a mean streak. We started driving through a very small town none of us had ever heard of when the GPS told us to turn right. The only street to the right was a narrow cobblestone alley that was too curvey to see where it led. Despite what now seems like an obvious mistake, we trusted the GPS, and to the shock of the old men sitting outside, enjoying their cappuccino, we went up the street. The road was so narrow that you could reach out of any window and touch a building. The people we passed gave us strange looks and it gradually dawned on us that this wasn't right. However, it was possible to turn around and the GPS kept encouraging us to go forward, so go forward we did. Pretty soon, we came to a dead end. The GPS insisted that the correct way to drive was through the house immediately in front of us, but we were sick of her shenanigans. After carefully maneuvering around, we were able to drive back down, where the old men were still sitting outside, probably wondering why the dumb Americans just drove up their neighbor's driveway.
Unfortunately, our driving woes did not end there. Though they weren't as narrow as the road we mistakenly took, the roads that actually led to the town were pretty tight. At one point, a van was coming the opposite direction and we both realized it would be impossible for us to pass each other. We stopped and waved the van on. The van stopped and backed up to let us through, but in doing so, backed off the road and got its back tire stuck in a ditch. Several Italians came from out of nowhere to help the poor van drivers, who turned out to be German tourists who spoke no Italian. We tried to help, but being American tourists who spoke little Italian and no German, we couldn't really do much. Dad tried helped in trying to push the van out of the ditch, but nothing worked. We felt bad for the German tourists stuck in the little town of Pignone with their paper road map, but there was nothing left for us to do. We turned on our GPS, carefully turned around, and tried once again to find our way to Cinqueterre.
After way too many extremely sharp turns and uphill climbs, we finally made it to the town of Monterooso al Mare, one of the 5 towns of the Cinqueterre. Our hotel was very modern and very close to the beach. Cinqueterre is beautiful, with clear blue water, colorful flowers, and hiking trails between each town. It was a nice place to relax during all our sightseeing.
Though they are beautiful, the beaches of Cinqueterre aren't your typical sandy beach. It is all rocks and the water is freezing, so getting up the courage to go swimming took a while. After walking barefoot on thousands of little stones, you would be struck by ice cold waves. Jumping in didn't make it better, and inching in just gave you more time to reason out why you shouldn't go in at all. The first day, nobody went in past their hips. The second day, my dad and I were determined to swim out to a big rock and jump off of it. After Alex decided he was too much of a pansy for this adventure and went back to the hotel, my dad and I edged into the water. We fought the cold and made it to the rock, which was kind of difficult to climb because it was so slippery. But jumping off was a ton of fun and made the effort totally worth it. After jumping I was all smiles and having fun until my dad said, "What happened to your face?!" Apparently, I'm not as cool as I think I am since I got a bloody nose upon hitting the water. Nevertheless, we jumped again (mostly so my mom could take pictures) then swam back to shore to warm up. Once at shore, my dad and I realized that the barnacles from the rocks had cut our legs up pretty badly and we were both bleeding. We are really hard core.
Our second night in Cinqueterre, we headed into the old part of Monterosso al Mare to see the celebration of the feast day of St. John the Baptist. It had started earlier in the day with a Mass and a concert in the church--typical religious stuff. Then, it progressed into not-so-typical religious stuff, including a sack race and fireworks. The fireworks display did not seem very well-prepared and was the most frightening fireworks show I've ever seen. After the local children placed floating candles in the sea (it was very beautiful), everyone gathered by the beach to watch the fireworks. I figured the fireworks would be going off at another beach. Wrong. The fireworks were being lit at the beach where the big crowd was. These fireworks were so close and so big it looked like we were being attacked. Not all the fireworks went up in the air. Some (mistakenly) shot off into the ocean or on the ground. While my mom and I cowered, Alex and my dad cheered. Amazingly, no one got hurt.
To continue the pyrotechnic spectacular, there was a giant bonfire the next night. It was held on the same beach that the fireworks were set off at and it was the biggest bonfire I've ever seen. It makes sense, though, since you know how St. John just loved bonfires...and fireworks...and sack races...
Even though we only stayed there for 2 nigts, I could go on and on about Cinqueterre. The seafood is delicious, as are the lemon products. The hiking is awesome (though a little steep sometimes). The scenery is beautiful, the towns are quaint, and the people are very friendly. It was nice to see a part of Italy I hadn't been to before, and especially nice that it hasn't been jaded by too much tourism yet. From Cinqueterre, we went to Rome--my favorite Italian city and the exact opposite of Cinqueterre.
Our drive to the coastal towns of Cinqueterre started off fine. We navigated our way through the highway and to the main roads. When the streets got increasingly narrow and decreasingly even, things got a little dicey. We were using my GPS for directions, and so far, she had steered us correctly. But I should have known something would go wrong. She did once tell me to turn right at the end of a cul-de-sac, so I knew that she had a mean streak. We started driving through a very small town none of us had ever heard of when the GPS told us to turn right. The only street to the right was a narrow cobblestone alley that was too curvey to see where it led. Despite what now seems like an obvious mistake, we trusted the GPS, and to the shock of the old men sitting outside, enjoying their cappuccino, we went up the street. The road was so narrow that you could reach out of any window and touch a building. The people we passed gave us strange looks and it gradually dawned on us that this wasn't right. However, it was possible to turn around and the GPS kept encouraging us to go forward, so go forward we did. Pretty soon, we came to a dead end. The GPS insisted that the correct way to drive was through the house immediately in front of us, but we were sick of her shenanigans. After carefully maneuvering around, we were able to drive back down, where the old men were still sitting outside, probably wondering why the dumb Americans just drove up their neighbor's driveway.
Unfortunately, our driving woes did not end there. Though they weren't as narrow as the road we mistakenly took, the roads that actually led to the town were pretty tight. At one point, a van was coming the opposite direction and we both realized it would be impossible for us to pass each other. We stopped and waved the van on. The van stopped and backed up to let us through, but in doing so, backed off the road and got its back tire stuck in a ditch. Several Italians came from out of nowhere to help the poor van drivers, who turned out to be German tourists who spoke no Italian. We tried to help, but being American tourists who spoke little Italian and no German, we couldn't really do much. Dad tried helped in trying to push the van out of the ditch, but nothing worked. We felt bad for the German tourists stuck in the little town of Pignone with their paper road map, but there was nothing left for us to do. We turned on our GPS, carefully turned around, and tried once again to find our way to Cinqueterre.
After way too many extremely sharp turns and uphill climbs, we finally made it to the town of Monterooso al Mare, one of the 5 towns of the Cinqueterre. Our hotel was very modern and very close to the beach. Cinqueterre is beautiful, with clear blue water, colorful flowers, and hiking trails between each town. It was a nice place to relax during all our sightseeing.
Though they are beautiful, the beaches of Cinqueterre aren't your typical sandy beach. It is all rocks and the water is freezing, so getting up the courage to go swimming took a while. After walking barefoot on thousands of little stones, you would be struck by ice cold waves. Jumping in didn't make it better, and inching in just gave you more time to reason out why you shouldn't go in at all. The first day, nobody went in past their hips. The second day, my dad and I were determined to swim out to a big rock and jump off of it. After Alex decided he was too much of a pansy for this adventure and went back to the hotel, my dad and I edged into the water. We fought the cold and made it to the rock, which was kind of difficult to climb because it was so slippery. But jumping off was a ton of fun and made the effort totally worth it. After jumping I was all smiles and having fun until my dad said, "What happened to your face?!" Apparently, I'm not as cool as I think I am since I got a bloody nose upon hitting the water. Nevertheless, we jumped again (mostly so my mom could take pictures) then swam back to shore to warm up. Once at shore, my dad and I realized that the barnacles from the rocks had cut our legs up pretty badly and we were both bleeding. We are really hard core.
Our second night in Cinqueterre, we headed into the old part of Monterosso al Mare to see the celebration of the feast day of St. John the Baptist. It had started earlier in the day with a Mass and a concert in the church--typical religious stuff. Then, it progressed into not-so-typical religious stuff, including a sack race and fireworks. The fireworks display did not seem very well-prepared and was the most frightening fireworks show I've ever seen. After the local children placed floating candles in the sea (it was very beautiful), everyone gathered by the beach to watch the fireworks. I figured the fireworks would be going off at another beach. Wrong. The fireworks were being lit at the beach where the big crowd was. These fireworks were so close and so big it looked like we were being attacked. Not all the fireworks went up in the air. Some (mistakenly) shot off into the ocean or on the ground. While my mom and I cowered, Alex and my dad cheered. Amazingly, no one got hurt.
To continue the pyrotechnic spectacular, there was a giant bonfire the next night. It was held on the same beach that the fireworks were set off at and it was the biggest bonfire I've ever seen. It makes sense, though, since you know how St. John just loved bonfires...and fireworks...and sack races...
Even though we only stayed there for 2 nigts, I could go on and on about Cinqueterre. The seafood is delicious, as are the lemon products. The hiking is awesome (though a little steep sometimes). The scenery is beautiful, the towns are quaint, and the people are very friendly. It was nice to see a part of Italy I hadn't been to before, and especially nice that it hasn't been jaded by too much tourism yet. From Cinqueterre, we went to Rome--my favorite Italian city and the exact opposite of Cinqueterre.
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