Posted by M on Aug 14, 2011 in
My Current Life,
Savvy Travels As I’ve mentioned before, I recently put on my big girl pants and got a J-O-B. For those of us who are still in school, that means I stopped sucking on the tit of Cliff and Ann. Just kidding. I’m still riding their coat tails in many, many ways, just now I have to pay my own rent.
Unlike Michigan, there’s actually things to do in California on the weekends. And it’s not even like, a four hour drive up north away. This past weekend, my little work friends and I drove up to Santa Monica:
I took this picture and then filitered it on Instagr.am If you like pictures and you don't do this, you're totally missing out.
Santa Monica is busier than the busiest town in Michigan, but it probably has a whackjob to normal people ratio of 2:1. There are a lot of crazy people here. I would recommend putting your child on a leash if you decide to venture out this way, just so none of the boardwalk performers/crazy christians try and sweep them up or conver them or something.
That said, it’s really beautiful:
See? Totally cool, right? If you spent the weekend in DeWitt, you must be completely jealous right now, which is mostly the point of this entry. To make sure you’re jealous and will come visit me immediately.
We drove to Santa Monica a little after 11 am, getting a late start because two of us went to the post office to mail home some snacks to our friends and family. Which is where we learned the hard way that we will no longer be mailing home snacks. Do you know how expensive that is? The postal system needs to start offering a welfare program. Or at least let me trade like, part of my soul for a reduced rate.
Once in Santa Monica, we strolled up and down the pier, mostly so we could get to the end where there was a public restroom and I really had to pee. I had to avoid temptation of buying you guys some really cool presents though. For example, for five bucks, I could take a picture with a cardboard cutout of my favorite celebrity. Pretty smart business plan by that entrepeanuer, considering every mall in America has a cardboard cutout of Justin Bieber or Miley Cyrus. There was also roller coasters, carnival food, a guy holding a snake, and a man dressed up in a gorilla suit dancing to his ipod. In Michigan, the bums just kind of look at you. At least in California they attempt to entertain.
We hit the beach afterwards, which was gorgeous (except not as gorgeous as Lake Louise, of course). I forced my roommate to take a bazillion pictures in the ocean because IT WAS THE OCEAN and when you’re from the midwest, these are rare opportunities. Salt water, you guys!
Instagr.am is amazing.
With such pretty pictures and witty words, have I convinced you to come visit me yet? Please?
Posted by M on Jul 25, 2010 in
Savvy Travels In a lot of ways, this has been the least stressful summer of my entire life. I wasn’t a big fan of high school. My brothers were really popular, but I was mostly really awkward, and slightly frizzy. I worked every summer from freshman year onwards, and if I wasn’t at work, I was shipped off to sports camps, church camps, academic camps, or educational vacations with the family. Years later, I still get jokes about how while my friends were in Panama City, I once spent 10 days hiking in Wyoming.
After graduation, I spent my first summer nerviously biting my fingernails, freaking out about attending college. I recieved a lot of shoulder rubs and pep talks about how everything would be fine. When it wasn’t fine, I spent my second summer nerviously biting my fingernails hoping a new school would be the answer to my qualms. That was more stressful than before because MSU was my plan B. I now had the added anxiety that there was no Plan C. Last summer, I took Calculas, which frankly was annoying enough to ruin my entire summer, and then I got to go to Rome. Which was amazing, but being half way across the world without a single friend taking classes? Stressful.
This summer, in comparison, has been a breeze. No, I don’t enjoy being 10 hours from home and yes, I would really like some quality Maggie + friends + family + boyfriend time, but my actual day to day life? So completely stress free.
I wake up in the morning and I go to work. My hours are flexed, so I manage to get there before everyone else so I have at least an hour of quiet before the world stomps in. I do some work, I do some online shopping, I have meetings where my only job is to sit there and be quiet. I live in a family where I rarely get a word in without raising my hand at the dinner table…I mastered how to sit there and be quiet when I was ten. I have lunch at my desk while reading weddingbee.com (I need to be prepared and up to date on my etiquette for when everyone in the world but me gets married), and then I attend more meetings in the afternoon. Occasionally, I peruse the hall and smile. They expect very little of me. In fact, I think they expect more from the janitorial services that are responsible for emptying their trash cans every night than they expect of me. I’ve gotten into binds before and I rely on my giggle to get me out of them. I’m lucky I look like I’m 15. Corporate America has very little standards for its 15 year old workers. Don’t get me wrong, I do work–but my work does not pay any bills, does not cause stress, and when I leave at 4 pm, I leave my work there.
At home, I am responsible for getting myself, and only myself dinner. Then I work out. Then I watch TV. Then I go to bed. In a nutshell, that’s my life. It’s completely boring. If this was my real life, I’d be dead in six months and literally, the guy responsible for declaring a cause of death would be like, “well, it looks like her brain just got really bored and forgot to remind her heart to beat, so she died.”
I have 3 of 11 weeks left of this schedule. Then, it’ll never be like this again. I can say with full certainty, this will be it for me. Next summer, I’ll either be working a full time job (where my duties do not include staying updated on the most recent articles detailing Lindsay Lohan’s jail sentence), getting ready for grad school (biting my fingernails), or getting ready for some other weirdo occupation that only a Flood Family member could pull off.
As stress free as this summer has been–and seriously, I took my pulse the other day and it was 56 beats a minute, I’m so stress free even my heartbeat is slowing down–I’m ready to go home. I made a mental checklist of all the things I should do before I “settle down” and put “down roots,” and I made sure to put “move some place I don’t know anyone,” and now that I’ve done that, I’d like to be able to check off “move some place where I do know people.” I’m ready to start spending my life with the people I love in a city I live. Alas, Minneapolis does not meet either of those requirements.
See, stress just means you have something you care about on the line. I’m stress free here because I don’t care. I don’t care if I don’t make friends–because I don’t plan on staying around. I don’t care if my job is horrible, because I haven’t accepted that I’m going to need a job soon. The biggest stresser I have is the half marathon I’m running in two weeks and that’s because that’s a life-long goal of mine. I care so much about that, I plan my entire schedule around the training regiment.
But back in East Lansing, I’ll be stressed again. I won’t have time to train…because I’ll have things to do. Friends to see, family to see, a cottage to nap in, clubs to run, and a yoga class to take with my best friend.
I guess my pulse is going to raise again. But that’s probably a good thing. I guess if your pulse isn’t racing, you’re not really living.
Posted by M on Jul 20, 2010 in
Savvy Travels
I know that many of you are planning vacations in the coming months. While some of your Signficant Others may want educational experiences or cultural experiences, or sun and beaches, I invite you to try out Dinkytown, Minneapolis, Minnesota! There’s not much to do, flights are overpriced from Michigan, and the weather usually sucks, so it’s perfect, right? Below is a guide to give your traveling companions to convince them that a visit to Minneapolis (and if you come soon, me!) is totally worthy of your vacation time.
Introduction
Welcome to Minneapolis, Minnesota! As you may know, Minneapolis is known for many things, including lakes, bike paths, and its excellent malls. Because people in Minnesota have nothing to do between the months of September and May, the government of Minnesota thought everyone should use retail therapy to make themselves feel better. Therefore, you can buy shoes and clothes without having the added burden of sales tax! How exciting! Since you’re a hippy and don’t like to feed into the industry that is trendy fabrics and jeans that make your ass look great, you can rest assured that even boutiques where the owners spin their own burlap to create clothing don’t have to charge you an additional 6%.
There are a lot of neighborhoods throughout Minneapolis, many of which I have not explored because I am lazy and many remain untouched because I took a vow to not drive my car anywhere except to work, so if I can’t bike somewhere, I will not be stimulating that area’s economy with my credit card. Still, the downtown area, called “Downtown,” is where the young professionals tend to live and work. It’s a little overpriced area, but pretty unique because it’s actually mostly connected by underground tunnels and tunnels between buildings. This is because in the winter, if you go outside, you will die immediately. Other areas, such as “Uptown,” are trendy and up-and-coming. I know it’s trendy because I went there and there were a lot of thrift shops. Trendy people always like to pretend they go to thrift stores.
Ethnic populations are all about Minneapolis, meaning you can strike gold on the food if you’re an ethnic food fan. Shops like “Holyland” offer lunch buffets with hummus so delicious, you’ll never eat hummus elsewhere again. Or at least that’s what yelp.com says. They’re only available for lunch during the week and I have a job, so I can’t go. But, I have sampled the Indian cuisine throughout the area as well as some other food, such as Chinese, and I assure you it tastes just like authentic Chinese American food available in Michigan.
In general, I would say Minnesota is much like Michigan, but more inconvenient to get to and colder. Oh, and the economy isn’t tanking. And Minneapolis is not as depressing as Detroit. But really, what city in America is? Flint is really the only runner up.
The Culture:
To prepare your midwestern selves for the unavoidable culture shock of visiting a city like Minneapolis, I would take a stroll around your own neighborhood. That should about do it. It’s the same.
The Weather:
Between September and April, you should only visit Minneapolis if the tickets to the Eskimo Tour you really wanted to see in Alaska are sold out; Minnesota can offer you a similar icy experience. In the summer, only visit if Michigan is just averaging 95 degree days, when you’d really prefer 105 degree days. I’m told by the natives that there are two days a year in Minnesota that are perfect. There are no ways to determine these two days ahead of time, so pack your bags like your wife is pregnant and get prepared to leave at the last minute.
Where You Should Stay:
You should stay in my neighborhood, although I’ve yet to see a single hotel. I have a twin bed I’d be willing to share if you come soon though. I recommend Dinkytown mostly because I haven’t lived anywhere else and it seems nice enough. Kind of like having sex in your Grandparent’s Guest Room. Not your first choice, but you’ve had worse.
Anyways, I live in an area called “Dinkytown” in a region called “Northeast Minneapolis.” In Spanish, that would be “Dinkytown” and “Noreste Minneapolis.” While such lingo may prove helpful, I would say 99.876% of the population speaks English. In addition, 85% of the population is white, so you have added benefit of blending in and not looking like such a tourist. Except for in my building, where 95% of the population is Asian. Don’t bother speaking to them, they have no interest in you. However, they are quite noisy and many seem to have made the decision to stay on Korean time, which means they’ll often be awake and bumping at ungodly hours.
The building, Chateau Co-op, was built in the 1970s and is quite stately. I call the architecture “Prison Chic,” but I’m not sure if that’s a technical term. The interior looks rather like what I imagine the projects look like. And as I sublease from little Korean girls, everything in the apartment is fun-sized. Please help yourself to the couch (which seats one) or a bowl (which is toddler sized). Don’t drink the water from the tap, it tastes like dirt. You can brush your teeth with the tap water, though. This is a civilized city, after all.
Dinkytown is a college area of Minneapolis, and borders the University of Minnesota. The University of Minnesota is the bastard child of Michigan State and Michigan’s one-night stand back in the 1800s. It has the rolling green campus of MSU, and Dinkytown offers the urban feel that Ann Arbor is infamous for. Luckily, the students of The U seem to have gotten MSU’s personality, and are quite friendly and don’t have anything stuck up their ass.
The bar scene in Dinkytown is pretty legit, but I took a vow of sobriety for the summer, so I haven’t had much time to investigate it through drunk eyes. The Library, Burrito Loco, Blarney’s, and the Kitty Kat Club, are all well-known establishments. Unlike Michigan bars, many bars in Minneapolis own party buses, where they’ll pick kids up from sporting events and drive them to their bar. They then offer brunch the next morning. It’s like a one stop shop: Transportation, drunk, hangover food. Mid-west hospitality at its best, eh?
Eating in Dinkytown
Food in Dinkytown is outrageously collegiate. Fru-lala offers frozen yogurt even those allergic to dairy can eat (score!) and there are some pretty interesting fusions going on. A place on 4th Street makes pizza…and adds French fries and macaroni and cheese on top, just to add a little extra spark to your heart attack. Al’s Breakfast on 14th Street is a hole in the wall joint which serves the best breakfast in Minneapolis. It seats 14 on stools. Beyond those type of joints, there are the typical Potbelly’s, McDonald’s, Subway, Bruegger’s, Panora, and a variety of shady looking booze stores. For State kids and alum, it’s pretty much Grand River minus Menna’s.
I’d be happy to cook for you if you need me to. I eat mostly poverty-like food, so prepare yourself for oatmeal, frozen green beans, and if you’re really lucky, some crystal lite. You’re welcome.
What To See While in Town (Top 5 Must See Spots)
5. The State Fair
The Minneapolis State Fair occurs in late August through Labor Day Weekend. It’s famous for really horrible food, like deep fried Twinkies, breaded in Oreos. Or Snickers wrapped in Bacon. It’s gross. And by gross, I mean delicious. I plan on leaving town before this year’s Fair, if only because I feel like one smell any of those culinary masterpieces has 3,000 calories and will instantly give me a case of cellulite.
4. The Mall of America
The Mall of America is floor after floor of stores, verifying that America is officially pathetic. I mean, we can’t just have one Victoria’s Secret in the Mall of America–we need one on every floor! Our consumers can’t handle taking the escalator up to get to us…we should come to them! That said, Minnesota’s philosophy is that shoes and clothes are necessities, and necessary items should not be taxed. Well Minnesota, we agree on that: my clothing and shoes are not frivilous items, they are necessary items. You hear that, Dad?
3. A Twin’s Game
I personally find baseball boring because I don’t understand why we need nine innings, when one would suffice. Let’s just have a quick ten minute game, and then drink beer at the stadium. After all, the drinking at the stadium is why most of the crowd’s there anyways. That said, this place seems pretty popular, but tickets are crazy expensive. I’d recommend using your savings from lack of tax on all those clothes to pay it off.
2. Sculpture Garden
I haven’t been here yet, but I hear it’s overrated, overcrowded, and that you can’t come to Minneapolis without stopping by the garden for a picture with a giant cherry in a spoon. I personally think I can live without a picture of me with a giant spoon, but if you can’t: here’s you chance!
1. Me!
If you can make it to Minnesota, come see me! I have no friends, no social life, limited internet access, and basic cable. Even if we barely know eachother, shoot me a text and I’ll gladly pretend we’re best friends forever just so I can assure myself my social skills are still intact.
Conclusion:
Did that convince you? Have you booked your ticket yet? Can you take me home with you?!
Posted by M on Jul 7, 2010 in
Savvy Travels
I am definitely my father’s daughter. Or at least, I am the result of watching my alleged father my entire life, as he sometimes claims that I technically the daughter of the milkman.
Still, one of the traits Captain Cliffy (CC from here on out) have in common is that we both like to walk the line of…inappropriateness. We like to be a little outrageous with our jokes and our actions. We enjoy getting a rise out of people, whether that be with a one-liner that’s so bad, people can’t help by bend over with laughter, or with a comment, sarcastic remark, or maybe even an action that causes people to wonder if they should cringe or giggle.
CC and I both have learned (although, sometimes the hard way) that there’s a time and a place for the sense of humor. Sometimes, it’s definetly not appropriate. Sometimes it’s good to go. And if it’s on the edge of good or bad, instead of waiting to find out if it’s appropriate, we’ll often just do it. Risk it. Why not?
I often use my profanity-laden jokes (ha, you thought with my cute little apron and cookie recipes I was totally from the fifties, right? Wrong. I’ve been dropping F-bombs since the 7th grade) to weed out friends. I mean, if someone can’t take a joke or gets offended by sarcasm, it’s just not going to work out. And it’s me, it’s not her. I’m not willing to change my sense of humor just because a joke about how I’m going to marry rich and never work could be seen as feeding into all the stereotypes feminists have spent centuries attempting to undo. I mean, there are days that I take the elevator up one set of stairs because I’m too tired to walk. I clearly don’t have the energy to consider all the ramifications of a joke with purely innocent intentions, especially around my friends. And sheesh, if we’re friends, we’re probably going to happy hour. Too tired and you’re adding alcohol to the mix? I most certainly won’t be filtering my words.
This “playing with fire” philosophy used to be an issue in my personal life as well. I take a very “what the hell!” approach to a lot of things, which I’ve learned can have very good or sometimes very horrible consequences. Sometimes it’s fun: I might be lactose intolerant, but if I’m at an ice cream stand and it’s 102 degrees out, what the hell! One small vanilla softserve isn’t going to throw my digestive system into retirement.
And sometimes it’s very bad. Like, if I decide to try the shellfish at a restuarant even though I KNOW I’m allergic but it smells good and gosh, I’ll be fine, I insist to everyone. And then my lips get all tingly after one bite. And then I can’t admit that at all because I just made a HUGE deal about how one bite wouldn’t hurt. Whoops.
I’ve also learned that the “Eh! What the hell!” mantra is no good when it’s a big decision. Well, perhaps for a big decision it’s okay, but for a permanent decision? Don’t even think about just “what the hell”-ing it. You draw out a chart and weight the pros and cons. Want to know how many times I’ve sat down and actually thought about my rooming situation in college? Once. This year. And that was only because after three years of being pretty unsuccessful, my own mother thought I was bitching too much to just sign a lease without considering important things like, “do you actually think you can live successfully with these people?” And by live, she means actually spend time in the house and not run over to my boyfriend’s every time someone I have a rough time handling walks through the door.
In my old, old age, I’ve also learned that some smaller decisions can have big consequences later if you don’t think them through. An old, old high school/middle school boyfriend e-mailed me a few weeks ago and wants to try and be friends. I thought about just shooting back an email with a “sure, whatever.” I mean, I don’t really care. Innocent, right? I reconsidered, and then woke up three time zones to discuss the consequences of my reply. My gut said no. And I had three worldly advisors agreeing with me. Not because it wasn’t innocent. But because relationships and friendships always end for a reason. Reopening a friendship? Unless the relationship ended because of distance and now said friend is moving in to the other side of your duplex, you’re probably better off. Why rock a ship you’re enjoying smooth sailing on?
CC and I have learned to behave ourselves in social settings. Well, for the most part. We tend to mutter things under our breath. CC’s wife (aka, “mom”), has very good hearing, and she says she doesn’t appreciate our mumbling. I’m pretty sure she’s lying. We’re hilarious. As long as you appreciate raunchy, outrageous, and a little goofy humor.
Posted by M on Jun 29, 2010 in
Savvy Travels
This may shock and awe you, but working in Human Resources was actually not always my lifelong goal. Prior to stumbling upon the delightful world of middle management, I actually had a variety of other aspirations in life. Let’s take a walk down the boulevard of broken dreams:
Age: 4
Dream Job: Grandfather
Perks: Already retired, pension plan in the works, wife cooking for you all the time, lots of television, kids already out of the house so no one except your wife bothers you
Drawbacks: I don’t think I could handle a wife. Girls are crazy.
Ultimate conclusion: This was a no go. Besides the fact that it just wasn’t even possible from a physical or human perspective, it also didn’t allow me to dress very cute.
Age: 8
Dream Job: Ballerina
Perks: Cute unitards to sport everywhere, permanently tiny waist, extremely buff men lift always on call to lift you above their heads.
Drawbacks: You aren’t really allowed to eat, so that permanetly tiny waist might actually be the result from what we in the biz call “bulemia.” Also, those buff men are typically gay, which is totally cool in my book, however, it means the chance of getting one of those super buff men to marry me is slim.
Ultimate conclusion: This didn’t work out either. If you’ve ever seen me walk, you know why. I’m so uncoordinated, I’ve been asked if I’m drunk before when I’ve been completely sober. No good.
Age: 10
Dream Job: Chef
Perks: Food! Food everywhere. Plus, Ramsy makes it look easy, he just swears a lot and he’s a millionaire.
Drawbacks: Kitchens are hot and they make your skin greasy, which makes you break out. Plus, I’m allergic to shellfish and dairy, and fried food, milk chocolate, or anything cream based tends to give me acid reflux. Oh, and I don’t drink anything but flavored water, green tea, and regular water. And I prefer to not eat red meat. And sometimes I’m a vegetarian, if I’m in the mood. So basically, if I were a chef, you’d be eating lettuce, whole wheat bread, and maybe some turkey if I wasn’t in a tofu mood. With a glass of lemon water. Do you think I’d be a hit?
Ultimate conclusion: If by choice, what I eat is that boring, I don’t think I should be allowed to influence any other person’s eating habits. My biggest success would probably be opening a restaurant specifically for people on the BRAT diet.
Age: 14
Dream Job: Model
Perks: The clothes are awesome, celebrities are everywhere. Someone to do my make up and hair everyday. Travel opportunities galore and I hear flavored water is very popoular on photoshoots. Plus, I would finally have people to commiserate on what being awkwardly thin was like in middle school (hint: awful).
Drawbacks: I don’t particularly like to starve and I don’t enjoy being told I’m fat, ugly, or not usable for some campaign. Also, drugs and binge drinking every night would do nothing for me except make me age prematurely.
Ultimate conclusion: No good. I like the idea of being told I’m pretty, but not at the expense of giving up Chocolate chip Cookies. Oh, and there’s the issue where I’m not at all photogenic.
Age: 16
Dream Job: Orphan Rescuer
Perks: I would get to rescue orphans, need I say more? If I’m extra good, I might even get to keep an orphan (does it get any cooler than that?) Plus, it’s like a surefire ticket to Heaven.
Drawbacks: I have the emotional stability of a toddler who got her favorite toy taken away. I cried during the season finale of Grey’s anatomy and I threw up when I saw a guy die on the street once. I would also likely come home with as many orphans as I could hide in my carry on. I don’t think I’m strong enough to go around rescuing babies.
Ultimate conclusion: I’ll adopt an orphan. And make sure the social worker knows to only give me one and never to let me inside an actual orphange, or else I’ll be giving away orphans as Christmas presents to all my closest friends (who would be excellent parents and provide a loving and financially stable home).
Age: 18
Dream Job: Book Editor
Perks: I would get to read all day long. I like books more than people because they don’t talk back.
Drawbacks: If I read all day long, what will I do when I get home? Have to interact with people? My social skills would be shot! I’m not very bright–my winning personality is all I’ve got!
Ultimate conclusion: I’ll just keep updating my library card. And move to a city with a library that’s not emberassingly small.
Age: 20
Dream Job: Trophy Wife/Stay at Home Mom
Perks: Hire a nanny to do all the hard stuff, like laundry, dishes, discipling the little rascals, taking them to soccer practice, etc, and then just go to Yoga, Spinning Class, and meet up with my friends (also aspiring trophy wives) to pick up soy mocha lattes with a dash of cinnimon and extra hot, please.
Drawbacks: The old husband part. My parents read this, so let’s not get into the nitty gritty of sex, but old, wrinkly, saggy skin…
Ultimate conclusion: I’d rather work and find a cuter guy to breed with. I’ll even compromise and drive the little Floodsters to soccer practice if the Husband does the laundry (or at least folds it. I hate folding!)
Age: 21
Dream Job: Lawyer
Perks: I don’t have to hit the real world for at least four more years and when I do hit the real world, I’ll have a bunch of letters at the end of my professional title, which will make me feel super important. And Doctor Brother and I are in this giant race to drain my parents of all resources, so if I get a JD, I’ll really be able to pick up my game in that competition.
Drawbacks: I hate overly opinioned people, which is the type that makes up the majority population of Law School students. Oh crap.
Ultimate conclusion: Let’s go with this. We can always change our mind later.
I mean, David changed his mind. Ann changed her mind. Cliff changed his mind. I really am right on track to success.
Posted by M on Jun 28, 2010 in
Savvy Travels
College is by far, the most amazing idea society has ever had. I get that the papers and exams suck, and I’ve had more bad professors than good, but the lifestyle is unbeatable. Find another time in your life when all you have to do is attend classes 12 hours a week, and as a reward, you get to live on your own, have someone else pay for most of your expenses, go to the bar on weekdays, and sleep in four out of seven days of the week. This lifestyle is gold. For all those naughty kids in high school who thought they were too cool to study and ended up at community college or working a job right out of high school: you’re totally missing out. Seriously. Sucks for you.
So summer, for me, is always bittersweet. Sure, I’m happy to have a break from constant stress and the dramatics that come along with putting 20,000 co-eds in a two mile radius (the major debbie downers in college life), but I’m always happy to regress to my former life when August rolls around. Still, the one thing I’ll say about corporate life is that, with a little inspection, the traits of college life have not been completely forgotten. Inside these cubicles reside 3,000 employees who used to party at the frat house, drink on Tequila Tuesday, skip class on Friday, and stroll the walk of shame on Saturday mornings. Let’s take a closer look at how college style and corporate style overlap a little more than we think:
1. The outfits
There’s two types of outfits people sport in the workplace: The first is the professional look. Blazers, pencil skirts, dresses, heels, black pants.Or on casual days: trendy jeans, professional yet tight in all the right places blouses, polo shirts, dockers. The works. You know what I mean. Look around for your newest employee or intern. They’ll fit this category. These outfits are usually super spiffy and nice towards the beginning of a job (much like that cute little black dress that makes an appearance the first week of class), and then as the job wears on, the outfits get a little, well, dumpier. You’ve already impressed people, so you stop trying so hard. Who wants to wear three inch heels all over a building all day? There’s stairs everywhere. Walking up stairs in heels is a major commitment and if you’ve got no one left to show off for, what’s the point? Might as well switch to flats and lower your risk of falling on your face, which would just increase your healthcare costs anyways.
In college, these types of outfits are brought out at the beginning of the year. When we’re all tan and happy and just back from school shopping with parental moneybags. These new outfits last about two weeks or maybe even a semester if you’re a freshman. But not that long. Don’t get excited.
Which brings me to outfit type 2: rumpled black pants, low wasted skirts (and yeah, those legs aren’t shaved), loose black pants, capris that don’t require three inch wedges just to look presentable, belts that are worn, shoes with scuff marks, collared shirts–with logos of sports teams or even other companies. Take a look at someone in your company who’s been around for a while. They’ll wear this stuff and they’ll wear it proud. They don’t have to look hot to demonstrate that they’re proficient at their work. These people, are your seniors and juniors in college. They’ve been to the bar, okay? They can buy alcohol. They have cars on campus. And friends. And they don’t even ned a map to get around. And yes, they believe your “dress” is cute, but really, maybe you should consider pants next time you’re around because your ass is hanging out. These employees are much like the kids in college who on Fridays, don’t feel a need to dress up for their 8 am lecture a half mile across campus. While the intern/freshman is sporting jeans that no one’s sure how she managed to slide into them, this employee/student is in the most comfortable outfit they own. It’s Friday. No one cares.
2. The Drinking
There’s a phrase in college that goes, ” We’re not alcoholics until we graduate.” Cue laughter.
But seriously, these crazy mo-fos in corporate life are all about the happy hour. In college, Happy Hours are from 3-7, and no one can make those because that’s prime napping time. But in corporate life? I’ve watched employees leave with their bosses early from work to go to happy hour! And frankly, who can blame them? If you have to sit in a four by five cubicle all day, you deserve a drink. And contrary to what we’re told in University-Land, drinking on weekdays is not a sole attribute of college. People in this “real world” drink every night of the week. Do they get drunk like college kids? Not usually. But I feel like that’s more because their livers can’t tolerate as much as booze after being violated so much in their undergraduate years–at least on weekdays. I’ve heard, on more than one occassion, co-workers getting together before dinner for “cocktails” or having “drinks before we go out.” We do that in college, too. It’s called PreGaming, which is when you drink your cheap booze before you go to the bar, where one shot is the price of an entire fifth at Meijer.
Not to mention, most people in Corporate life are much too sophisticated for tequila shots and beer. . Don’t fool yourself, winos, you’re the same as the kids in college who drink boxed wine–you just have deeper pockets.
3. The Dating Scene
College relationships are tracked via the internet in the form of “facebook.” When you get a Significant Other (SO), you update your social networking site so that your besties, gossip hounds, and exes can all hear it from you: you’re off the market. If you start dating a guy, you have the facebook chat: “ummm, so should we take single off our social networking page? Do you want to link to my page?” It’s a pretty big deal when it’s a “yes.” In fact, when my friends get a new boyfriend, the only thing asked is, “well, is it facebook official?” And if you see a cute guy at the bar and get his name? You run home and look him up on facebook. You can get a scope of his hobbies, mutual friends, major, and the biggest question answered: is he already in a relationship?
In corporate life, this equivalent is “The Ring Check.” New hire comes in. Perhaps good looking. The secretaries mingle. The co-workers gossip. The biggest question: “Was he/she wearing a ring?”!” A wedding ring, to clarify.
4. The Boss
In college, we have professors that lecture at us all day long while some diligent students (including me, Monday through Thursday), take excellent notes, while other students (including me, on Fridays) put a laptop on their desk and check out the world wide web while we’re preached at by a professor who reads off of a powerpoint he’ll post online later. The American Education System at its finest, ladies and gentlemen.
In Corporate life, we have bosses who read off Corporate letterheads while I set in my cubicle and look busy. The only difference between me looking busy at work and me looking busy at school? My work computer has a few sites blocked. But, don’t worry: I can still online shop, browse my favorite blogs, and if I shut my eyes in my cube, I can even feel like I’m back in an auditorium at state. Delightful.
These parallels are key to my adjustment to corporate life. And also, it’s nice to be paid to blog every day. Perhaps that’s something we could work on for when I’m in school, too.
Posted by M on Jun 16, 2010 in
Savvy Travels I am a caffeine slut.
It’s true. There’s no true PC way to put it. I love caffeine. I love diet coke. I love coffee. I love green tea. I love anything that makes my alarm clock shrieking “WAKE UP LITTLE GIRL” at me at 6:30 am a little less painful.
But, the problem with diet coke is this: It’s actually not very good for you. I mean, as vices go, if you’re a DC fan, you could do a lot worse than a can or two of the most delicious beverage I can think of. But, if you’re like me and have gone to such lengths as to nickname Diet Coke the “DC,” well, you might be a little too into it. As I am. And, I’ve polluted my body with enough of the crap to actually be able to feel a difference in my body when I have it and when I don’t. And for years, and I seriously mean years, I’ve been trying to get off it. But with it’s sparkly silver can and it’s enticing red logo (devil red, in my opinion), I just can’t let go. It’s love, you know? To break it off would mean heartbreak and we all just want to be loved.
Coffee and I, however, are a more recent couple. I’ve been off and on with coffee since Finals of my Junior year of college. So, we’ve been doing it since December, and things are just about to get serious. It tends to tempt me on the weekends, when I’m out and about, and I have a hard time turning it down on extra cold mornings or when I need a little work pick me up. Coffee, however, is actually pretty decent for you. I know a lot of parents, especially those who are convinced that you know, anything non-organic, non-recyclable, or non-expensive is horrible for their little snowflake, but the truth is in the research: coffee has a bunch of crap I can’t pronounce in it that makes it not bad for you. The problem with it? It stains your teeth. My problem with that? I want a white smile. I like pictures. I don’t want coffee teeth.
My solution? Green tea. Green tea offers a lot of benefits, speeds up your metabolism (SCORE! to the m and ms I have socked away in my freezer) and is still warm and still will make my life tolerable when Corporate America insists I wake up so it can suck out my soul.
But okay, I see where your doubts lie. What makes this time different. Well, my little peppermint patties, this time it’s going to stick. I’ve purchased Crest Whitestrips. I’ve purchased whitening toothpaste. I’ve purchased Green tea. I’ve made my declaration public: I am shedding my slut status for a pearly white smile and some tea crap the Chinese love.
Updates shall be forthcoming. If you were a betting man, I wouldn’t bet on me succeeding. Unless you want to bet me, because I could really use the motivation.
Posted by M on Jun 13, 2010 in
Savvy Travels
As a new employee at The Company, I’m often asked what I do for fun.
While the legitimate answer is, I skype with my boyfriend, snack on high calorie chocolate bits, and learn to fist pump while watching Jersey Shore with the Roommate, that is not actually the answer these people are looking for. No, they want a grown up, big girl hobby.
The only answer I have for them is ” I love reading and I run.”
“oh, you’re a runner.” I usually nod, but truthfully, inside I feel like a fraud.
To me, a runner has a six pack of abc and wakes up at 5 am to do an eight mile loop before work. A runner has muscular legs (not bony ones) and never gets winded. A runner actually enjoys energy bars and does not want to bulimia them up after taking one bite. A runner doesn’t get injured, a runner doesn’t touch the elliptical, a runner lives and breathes, well, running.
I, on the other hand, huff and puff my way through training. My legs are more bone than muscle, my feet have so many blisters, I have no choice but to wear flip flops to work tomorrow. I spend most of my run wishing it was over and daydreaming about what food I’m going to eat. I’ve run 5ks and trained for half marathons, but I have never gone running before 7:30 am. Ever. Sleep is much to precious for me. And frankly, when I see someone
running at 4 am, all I can think is, “what is wrong with you!?”
I got into running/jogging/trotting/fast skipping when I was a kid. I don’t actually remember my first jog, but I do rememeber sitting in my stroller while my mom pounded down a dirt road in my hometown. I was rewarded cheese crackers for sitting in my stroller so quietly. I know I took my first jog solo before I moved when I was in fourth grade, and I started jogging spardoically in middle school. By tenth grade, I was on the cross country team and by the time I graduated, I had a routine that without, I feel awkward and out of sorts. When I’m sad, angry, or lonely, I run. When my parents dropped me off for college, I put on my running shoes and those shoes were the first things I grabbed when I learned my classmate died. I ran three 8 minute miles on a treadmill the day my high school boyfriend and I concluded we weren’t going to make it, and I was on the treadmill when my college boyfriend texted me for the first time (and later, on the same treadmill when he asked me for a date–I nearly fell off in my moment of glee).
My first morning in Minnesota, I woke up at 8 and my mom and I jogged. Minneapolis has an amazing (and one has to think a little useless in a City that’s frozen for 8 months of out of the year) trail of running and biking paths. I realized, jogging by the river (seriously, they should save their money and put in heated, underground jogging tunnels), that I’d be fine for the summer. If the company sucked and my roommate sucked and my boyfriend never visited, well, at least all of these winding, curvy trails would keep me busy
.
In most families, I would be a weirdo, the black sheep. And while I would argue that in my family I am indeed a black sheep, exercise is actually something my parents and I have in common. On springbreak this year, my dad and I were trapped inside a tiny condo as it rained outside. Both of us expressed immediate relief when my mom invited us to drive an hour to the hotel she had a business conferance at, just to use the gym. Cliff and I drove to the work out room twice in three days. And we, the two thriftiest people you’ll ever meet, even happily paid the toll road fee (well, Cliff complained. But that was to be expected.)
My life is scheduled around my running time. If I have a late night run planned, I stop eating at a certain, cancel all plans with friend, DVR the Disney channel, and go at it. If I’m running early, I have to go to bed earlier, eat a bigger dinner, and make sure to set an alarm that wakes me (and everyone else in my immediate vicinity) up bright and early. I plan my class schedule, my work schedule, and even my TV schedule around running. I even only eat certain foods on certain days because running on a tummy of Indian food is just one experience I don’t need to repeat.
I guess the morale of the story is, my running shoes and I go everywhere together. Well, my jogging shoes. I’m not a runner, but I want to be one when I grow up. If I grow up, that is.
Posted by M on Jun 5, 2010 in
Big Annoucements,
Savvy Travels Greetings, loyal followers.
I write you from the land of 10,000 Lakes: Minneapolis, Minnesota. Exactly one week ago today, my mother, the woman who carried me in her supple uterus for 9 months and 11 days, dropped me off in this fair city and then just left. I would say it’s a little like desertion, but after contacting various police outlets, I’ve learned that when you’re 21, it’s really just “dropping off.”
I look forward to attempting to blog every other day in this journal and updating you on the whims and ways of a girl who has no friends, family, or boyfriend in her immediate five mile radius. As you can imagine, it’s going to get super interesting.
Because this could end up playing out like a bad, bad movie (think as horrible Grizzleyman or Glitter), I’ve decided to list a cast of characters and scenery for you to look foward to getting to know in the next ten weeks that Minneapolis is my home away from home (at MSU) away from home (in DeWitt) away from home (because my cottage is my real home, anyways). Onwards:
Introducing…in no particular order except the order that I think of them:
1. Asian Lovenest: Asian Lovenest is where I reside in Dinkytown, Minneapolis, Minnesota. It’s a highrise apartment building that was built in the 1960s and has had no improvements made to it since. It houses mostly international students, hence why I have informed my neighbors my name is Mercedes Isabella Paulio, a student ambassador to Italy. Well, I would inform my neighbors that if I knew who my neighbors were or had ever seen them. Anyways, Asian Lovenest is a sublease from some Korean UMinn students who left their Asian Invasion furniture just for me and the Rooms to use over the summer. We have a lot of Sushi bowls, chopsticks, 3 rice cookers, and an entire cupboard of food and ingredients we cannot read or pronounce. To solve this problem, we’ ve simply shut the cupboard and don’t intend to open it up again.
2. Rooms: Rooms is a girl I met at an Intern Meet and Greet who lives with me in the Lovenest. We work at the same place, but she works in a different building because she is an engineer and prefers to deal with things that can’t speak and I prefer to deal with people. We’ll see by the end of the summer who has it easier.
3. Hal: Hal is Hal Hagdon, maker of the infamous “Half Marathon Training Schedule” that lots of people on the internet use, mostly because when you google “Half Marathon Training Schedule,” his is the first link that comes up. He’s my fitness instructor for the summer and I half-ass prepare to run the Lansing River Run on September 26. So far, I have done his work outs and upped my caloric intake by 250%, which he doesn’t recommend, but he also does not NOT recommend. I may be the only person you ever meet who gains weight while training for a long distance footrace. I’d be happy to sign autographs at the end of the summer.
4. Bonnie: Bonnie is my GPS system. She gets me from A to B to C and since I’m usually lost, she is key to my survival for the summer. I especially appreciate her soothing voice and when I miss a turn, she doesn’t, like many other GPS systems (ahem, Garmyn), do this passive aggressive “Recalculating” that makes you feel horrible and like a giant failure. She just recalculates. I appreciate that about her. It’s nice to have a voice to ride to work with.
5. The Family: will not be making any appearances in this blog because they all suck and none of them are visiting me. Except Doctor Brother, who is visiting and therefore, I like. I also give exceptions to Traveling Brother, who is in France and therefore, is excused from visitation. Mom is also excused because she dropped me off and may in fact, be picking me up. Therefore, just Cliff sucks. You hear me, Cliff?
6. Boyfriend!: Boyfriend! works in Michigan and as a result, we are 700ish miles and a timezone apart. This is quite tragic, as you can imagine, because we used to live seven houses away from each other. I probably could have picked up his wifi signal if I’d tried hard enough. Now, I’m stuck on Netgear-MN. Ahhh, the turmoils of young adulthood.
7. The Company-I’m not interested in losing my job over a blog that has approximately four readers, but to make it snappy, I work at a company that manufactures things that I don’t understand.
8. Dinkytown: Dinkytown is the part of the U that I live in. It’s kind of like Michigan State had a one night stand with University of Michigan, and out popped Dinkytown. It’s green, but urban, and it has a Potbelly’s and a Subway, so overall, I’m a pretty happy camper.
I suppose that wraps up today’s entry. I look forward to updating you on my extremely interesting and important life as an intern. And if you know anyone who’s interested in marrying me purely because I’m cute and will let me stay home and never lift a finger, hook me up.
Posted by M on Aug 9, 2009 in
Savvy Travels I’m home.
And I’m totally and completely romesick.
My last week in Rome had no blog entries because for the most part, it was uneventful. It was just a week for wrapping up the loose strings of a five and a half week adventure. There were finals to study for, bills to pay, goodbyes to be had, and restaurants to patronize one last time. While it was all completely delightful, it didn’t make for newsworthy blogging. But it was fun.
Friday morning, however, we hit the T-Minus 0 day mark and I boarded the longest plane ride of my life and headed home.
I am thrilled to see my parents, my boyfriend, and my friends. The food I’m eating is so yummy (although, it hurts my stomach a little) and air conditioning has never been so welcome. But, I miss Rome.
Well, not necessarily Rome. Rome was stinky, hot, sweaty, and expensive. But, I do miss the adventure bug that I had every morning when I woke up. There’s something really cool about being in a foreign country and knowing that you’re doing something that you’ll never do again.
In the next couple weeks, I promise to write completely informative, slightly boring blogs that you can just keep in the back of your mind in case you ever go to Rome–the best restaurants, phrases to know, sites to see, etc. Hopefully this will help cure my traveling bug issue.
But, if it doesn’t, I figure I’m only 20–I’ve got a couple years to do the big traveling escapades of my life. Spending five weeks abroad helps you see that there’s a zillion countries out there–Greece, Peru, Ireland, Switzerland, and of course, all of Asia–that still need to be seen, analyzed, and sarcastically mocked by me.
Thanks for coming on this big, fabulous adventure with me! Let’s do it again soon :)