A Conversation from 10 Seconds Ago

Mom: "Hey there, Jesse! Come here, Jess! Heeeeyyyyy, that's a good girl. Who's a good girl? Who's a good girl? Who's a good good good good good good good girl? Good good good good girl. Who's a good girl? That's a girl. Yeess. Good girl-"

Me: "MOM, SHUT UP!"

Mom: "-good good good good girl."

Sealed with a...

I've been waiting for a newspaper editor to respond to my last email. She had contacted me about a possible writing opportunity, and I responded eagerly...two weeks ago. She has not written to me since then. So I examined the various reasons for this silence:

- The position isn't available yet.
- My writing sample failed to impress.
- My email was caught in the web.
- She was abducted by aliens and lost wi-fi service.

But in rereading my email to her, I'm beginning to think it was that very response that turned her away. It was friendly, polite, properly signed, and it contained contact information:
Or so I thought. But no, I actually sent this:
I emailed an emoticon. A depressing animated emoticon, no less! Now I AM depressed. You can't see the animation, but the face is actually at the apex of its frown in this image. It's like saying, "Don't call me - you'll regret it!" It would only be worse if I'd sent the enraged emoticon that shoots steam out of its ears:

More realistic would have been the guy begging...for a job.

Or "I'm so cool, you already have hired me":

So remember this, dear friends, when you write an email in HTML formatting, don't use any punctuation that could be misconstrued as a face. You might end up with one of these:

Elementary-Based Statistics

While researching today, I stumbled upon one of the websites that links people to former classmates. The site had a sample profile of my old elementary school, and I was surprised at the statistics:

10% of graduates from your elementary school like FRIENDS
18% of graduates from your elementary school like GARDENING
20% of graduates from your elementary school like GRUNGE
30% of graduates from your elementary school like ANIMATIONS/CARTOONS
46% of graduates from your elementary school like CATS

As you can see, only a fair few people like having friends. Perhaps this is why they spend so much time pursuing other solitary diversions, like gardening, grunge music, or cats, all of which seem inconsistent in their affection. However, I think everyone can agree that cartoons are better than friends and grunge music combined.

Vehicularly Environmental

I'm all about going green, but I'm not too impressed by electric/hybrid cars. Not enough to get excited.

Hybrids generally run on electricity up to a certain point, say 25-30 mph, and then the gasoline kicks in. This is supposed to save on fossil fuels. So, less oil and more electricity.

But doesn't that just mean more coal, etc. is being burned up by the electric company in the average 8 hours required to charge these cars? It's not terribly impressive until we get those off-shore wind farms going. Then the power doesn't have to be made, simply harnessed.

I guess hybrids also relieve dependence on foreign oil, so good for them.

Buyer Beware: While better for the environment and your daily commute, these cars may be swallowed whole by larger vehicles or stolen by thieves who can bench press more than 50 lbs.

For Claire

Let's go to Britain.

www.cupcakebouquet.co.uk

Getting Started: Freelancer

I'm freelancing! Officially.

Last week, I visited a local newspaper (which is fairly new, but well-established) to see if they were hiring staff in "layout, copy-editing, mostly writing--anything, please--ANYTHING, I'm begging you!"

The editor informed me they were not. But I could freelance any articles the reporters didn't have time to write! He named a price, and I accepted, thanking the gods for having escaped the minimum wage world of work-study. Then he invited me to the 8 a.m. Monday morning editorial meeting.

Ouch. Mucho ouch. I'm mildly fascinated by, but not proud of, my ability to remain solidly in bed, despite the thrashing of alarm clocks and glare of morning light. After summer's months of going to bed and awaking much too late, I was not eager to blow this opportunity by sleeping in. On Sunday night before bed, I literally prayed. "Dear God, could you please - I know it's my responsibility - never mind - I just need to wake up tomorrow, thanks. From Laura." *

BUT apparently this was the newpaper's first early Monday meeting, and the time was not terribly popular for anyone. At 8:01, I was the first writer at the office, besides the editor. Karma and luck have rewarded me with an invite to Thursday's editorial meeting at 11 a.m.

So, for work: one of the staffwriters was in my high school band and graduated a year ahead of me. She generously gave me one of her stories on a local nature conservatory's annual fundraiser, which I finished and will hopefully see printed this week! I also have a long-term project on local going-green efforts for the paper's quarterly magazine.

So that's my story for now. Still sending resumes and waiting to hear back from other places, but at least I'm doing something!



*I guess you're supposed to end prayers with "Amen," but it always feels like I'm reading a letter, the proper closing of which is a signature.

Auntie

I am an only child, a trait that causes most people to say, "Ohhh. Yeah, I could see that." I have most of the eccentricities common in such a person: enough imagination to keep myself occupied, some self-centeredness (sorry), and control of parents' future healthcare.

I totally dig it. I'd probably have been a brutal older sister, stealing the child's lunch money and such. But having no siblings means that I won't be an aunt (here pronounced "ont," not "ant." I made that homonymal mistake on an aunt's birthday card, and was shamed.) unless I marry a guy with nephews (which makes him...nephewed?)

Meanwhile, each time my cousins announce a pregnancy, I think "Now I get to be an aunt! No--I'll just be a second cousin again." This is mildly frustrating. Now that my friends are venturing into the marital and maternal realms (Erin, Alexis, Jen), I again think--nope, still not related. In fact, everyone I can think of already has siblings who will be their kids' aunts.

So, I humbly request Former-Roommate-Current-Friend-Pseudo-Auntie status. Your kids can call me Laura. Or Wawa.

Facebook & Foreign Travel (Academically Speaking)

Everyone knows that social media has drastically changed the way we communicate. Information is immediate, concise, and meant to be seen. People use it for self-promotion, which is fine. But when companies use it, I find it...fascinating. Yes, they're communicating with a new demographic and expanding horizons, which is great for marketing. For instance, JSTOR has a Facebook page (as do many restaurants and themed dorm parties). I don't want to rag on this academic site because students were asking questions via wall posts, and JSTOR was actually responding to their concerns.

But then JSTOR made a simple announcement that website maintenance would take place that night, to which a girl actually responded "lulz...oh JSTOR! :) <3".

Oh, social network. It's the only place where everone, from academics to LOLgurlz, can really be friends (that, and The Breakfast Club).

-----------------------------------

And now for something completely different:

Apparently foreign contries are the place to be--and work. Two of my best friends--one from HS, one from college--have moved to Korea to teach English. Within weeks of one another. Another gal is in France, presumably also teaching English. AND NOW, Liz from freshman year is threatening (via blog) to move around the world in order to find a teaching position. Fascinating.

That's all--just, fascinating.

Petunia's Demise and Other Conclusions

End of Summer:
As long predicted, the season has come to an end, and I am at the edge of a precipice. Work at the seafood market has decreased to weekend hours, so I spend much time at the computer and the cover letter.

Another Job:
In prospect only.

Social Life:
For once, I remained in contact with almost everyone this summer, just enough to not be completely reclusive. On a related note, I spent a lot of money and have to start repaying student loans soon. The total figure is terrifying compared to my current hourly wage, so I may start renting out my clothes for extra cash.

Plant Life:
Contrary to the late summer greenery, Petunia has wasted away, over-fed or under-watered. All that remains of her fresh blossoming beauty is a stick:
Petunia was unceremoniously flung into a ditch before and after this picture was taken.

Romantic Life:
No.

Romantic Comedies:
I want to watch "Alex & Emma" with Kate Hudson and Luke Wilson.

Narcissism:
I got a haircut today, and it almost looks different than it did earlier. Now the scrappyness is two inches shorter. Also--according to Mum's tip guide--I've been wayyyy over-tipping my hairdressers for a very long time.

Reunion:
Last weekend, my best high school friends and I saw Marin's senior flute recital, and she played amazingly. Erin's wedding is next weekend, and I cannot wait to see my best college friends too! Plus, I get dibs on Alexis, who is driving with me.

Conclusion:
Decent summer.

Hey, what's up

It's been awhile since I've last posted, having been generally uninspired to write ANYTHING or use my abysmally slow home computer. Otherwise, I've been working nonstop at the seafood market, as per usual. During my few hours off, I flop in front of the TV and lounge in the AC, a practice which will inevitably lead to my body turning into this:

You may choose which lazy blob of cow I portray.

So no major plans at the moment--just work and rest. Hope you're all well.

DREAM JOB Step One: Internship

I applied this spring to a few very cool summer opportunities: a Pixar Publicity Internship a. I spent a month envisioning myself in New York or California (on alternating days, of course). This is probably got me through my thesis. By May, I had recieved two very polite letters basically asking me to take my talents elsewhere. And I have.

Back to the seafood market went I. Despite wanting to have graduated from summer job land, and the joke that they'll never be able to get rid of me, I actually am really happy to be back. This will be my seventh summer at the best place on earth with my Fish Family. We just made it through Memorial Day Weekend, and even the customers were nice. I'm stoked to be back.

Plus,

I had no idea (until a month ago) that a fairly well-known company is headquartered twenty minutes from me. A company that offers internships in content writing. A company that wants me to start tomorrow.

I'll soon find out what my projects are, but I could be doing anything from designing catalogues and flyers to writing for the website. It sounds like everything I wanted. It's unpaid, but I don't have to make a huge in-office time commitment because you can write from anywhere.

So the cool kids don't want to let me sit at their table yet. That's fine. I'm prepared to rock socks off of everyone else.

Negative Space

A recent spring morning found me at work behind the front desk of the library, merrily checking in books, reading emails, chatting up some cute kid from class, and basking in the newly-returned air conditioning. While printing a document for one girl, I glanced at the title and read: "student.pdf".

This froze me where I stood. The girl was identified as "student." I will be legally identified as such for a few more days before hovering in the "about to graduate" category, followed soon thereafter by--

?

"Recent-graduate."
"Seafood marketeer."
"Fish-monger."


Not-student.

I've always envisioned everything after September 2010 as negative space. I don't know what is supposed to happen. Most likely time will stop. I want a degree-worthy job and I want a taco.

Return of the Blog

Hello world--

It's been awhile. But of course that's because it would jinx everything if I discussed anything.

But now that the thesis is COMPLETED and has PASSED, and the SKP has been submitted. One take-home final stands between me and graduation. I've begun returning books to the library (perilously close to the due date) and have gone from 60 items checked out to 29. Still many to return, after I read them all (I'm left with the "for pleasure" books).

In other news, several summer programs have decided that they don't want me. Whatever. I'll take my exceptional talents elsewhere (for now, the seafood market).

Also, Petunia the curly willow tree is thriving and I have a slight sunburn.


(approximately five feet at this time)

May Day in a few hours.

Word Study: Laura

I'm a big fan of UrbanDictionary.com, which defines all kinds of inappropriate slang without my having to bring it up at the dinner table. Readers can submit terms and definitions such as "cougar," "senioritis," and "Hasselhoff," among other things. Once, I saw a name (Caitlin) with seven pages of meanings. Some people seem to like Jessicas and others find them to be slutty boyfriend thieves. So tonight, I was curious to see what the dictionary has to say about

me.

Overall, Lauras seem to be appreciated, as evidenced by this delightful definition:

"the person with this name is the most amazing person you will ever meet. After you say hi to her, magic fairy dust will sprinkle on your head and then you'll be able to FLY! OMG! Who WOULDN'T want to fly?
example: That girl is so cool. Her name must be Laura! *begins to fly*"

However, there are some who had less-than-stellar experiences with Lauras:

"a stupid bitch; who tends to think she is better than everyone else, she isn't. she will spend the rest of her life alone and unhappy. she also leads tons of guys on with no intention of persuing anyof it.. skank bitch
example: that girl is a bitch.. her name must be laura."

I appreciate your candor, world.

Titanic Obsession: Books

Let's embark on this exciting Titanic series by focusing first on the written word. Interestingly, much of the literature revolving around the disaster is aimed at children. Indeed, I was in third grade when Titanic mania struck, so perhaps it is a ripe age for such topics.
If you're like me, then you'll already be familiar with a host of juvenile literature written about the Titanic (and will have read each of them twice). These include fact books, biographies, and exquisitely bad historical fiction.

First, a young cabin boy is a proud caretaker of the ship's lucky cat in:
In the end, he actually misses the boat, narrowly avoiding disaster, so the cat IS lucky--for him. (Apparently this is charmingly-illustrated tale is based on the less-than-charming story of a real cabin boy.)

This next gem is a little more mature, intended for twelve-year-olds:
I'm not sure if I can do this synopsis justice, so I'll let Publisher's Weekly do the talking:

"In 1898, four-year-old Jane (the second of five sisters) sees her mother (a medium) contact the spirit world. That same day, on their way to a spiritualist community outside Buffalo, N.Y., the newly-fatherless family is caught in an artificial earthquake caused by real-life scientist Nikola Tesla. As the years pass, Jane falls in love with Tesla's assistant, Thad. After a trip to England, the sisters find themselves on the Titanic, with one of Tesla's machines that could either save everyone or destroy the ship. The novel uses a touch of the fantastic to provide a (mostly) happy conclusion. The interplay of science, spirituality, history and romance will satisfy."

Much of the adolescent genres include contemporary time traveler tales (chapter books, of course, for maximum suspense), in which modern day youngsters:
a. use a time machine in order to save the entire ship (fail)
b. get sent back as punishment for picking on foster siblings


With this increased demand for first-hand experiences aboard the Titanic, we start to question the ideals of today's youth. The literature points to a growing trend in reckless decision-making and blatant disregard for mortality. So one brave author decided to put an end to these desires and set the record straight in:

Titanic Obsession

As of next month, 98 years will have passed since the sinking of the Unsinkable, the greatest ship man's hubris ever inspired: the Titanic.


In honor, memoriam, and fascination with the tragedy, I will feature a series of posts about modern-day treatment of the Titanic. This includes books, movies, and such. It will not be comprehensive, but it will be what I've been thinking about. Fifteen-hundred people drowned in the ice fields of the Atlantic, and our culture has been reinterpreting the tragedy for a century.

Mankind is fascinated with disaster. We know it. And this week, I will embrace it.

x

Privacy Settings

So it's been over a month since I last posted. I like to think that I've been busy living life rather than writing about it, but really I've just been uninspired. So tonight, of all things, a former coworker's Facebook status has sent me back to the keyboard.

This is what showed up on my News Feed:


Okay, so I'm thinking same-sex couples, status updates, and general drama enacted on FB walls. Who cares about other people's private life and let's move on. I got it. I like it. This post immediately followed:


So after informing the Facebook community that "he" (her significant other/husband) will soon be returning to her (and her bed), she tells the world to mind it's collective business and stay out of relationship business. So, every other relationship should be between two people and not the whole world? Maybe I'm cynical tonight. But. You know, pick one. Tell us about it or don't.

A Short History of:

To kick off our Creative Nonfiction class yesterday, the professor asked everyone to list topics under three categories: historical events, family/personal history, objects. My ideas included the Titanic sinking, my parents meeting, and gourmet chocolate.

We then had to pick one topic that may inspire the direction of our writing project, and share with the class. "The manufacture of glass bottles," I said happily. "What about the manufacture of glass bottles?" the prof asked. I froze, having not anticipated further questioning. After all, he hadn't asked Alisha, "What about cheese?" Actually, he did, now that I think about it clearly. But now I sat staring at a classmate's giant Dasani bottle as a few meager thoughts trickled around my head, finally culminating in a pathetic, "Um, I'm really interested in the shapes and design.............yes."

He was kind enough to move on.

But I am still disappointed in my inability put two words together properly, so I want to share my actual answer here.

I want to look at the manufacture of glass bottles as the designs and molding techniques changed throughout the last hundred years. When I was younger, my Dad and I would roam the woods around our house and find little dirty glass bottles, which led us to believe a bottling company may have once existed somewhere nearby. Maybe it was just a trash heap that existed nearby, but I would like to somehow connect these adventures in the forest with the history of those bottles we kept as souvenirs.

Laura Time: DC

As an only child, I got used to being by myself at an early age. So I don't have much trouble being a loner today. I LOVE being with my friends, but entertain myself just as well. Once, in the dining hall, Mike asked me if I was sitting by myself, which I affirmed. "Wow, I couldn't do that," he replied. Well, the point here is that I can and often do (though I also search obsessively for people I know, just in case).

When I go out and do something (fun) by myself, I reconcile the singletom by calling it "Laura Time." Going to the mall? Laura Time! Going out for coffee and fizzy juice? Laura Time!

So yesterday afternoon--at the end of a very long work week--I was scoping out some museums online when I came across "The Darker Side of Light: Arts of Privacy" exhibition at the National Gallery (privacy suddenly seems a fitting theme).

Fact: I've wanted to see this exhibition since last summer.
Dilemma: It leaves DC on Monday.
Solution: I planned an impromptu trip to the city today. Alone. And it was so much fun!

The exhibition was fantastic. Everything was dark and a little eerie. If I could have spared $50 to purchase the catalogue, I would've. I wandered around the museum for awhile, and then visited the Hirsshorn (modern/contemporary art) and the Freer Gallery (Asian art). Then I made my way north toward Chipotle and Red Velvet Cupcakery (which has locations in DC and Tuscon, if you're interested) for deliciousness.

The Woolly Mammoth Theatre Company is on the way to these dining locations, so I stopped in to see what was playing. Wonder of wonders, it was Mike Daisy, the monologist who once performed at our school. His show, The Last Cargo Cult, is about Polynesian islanders who literally worshiped (and still do) the power of American cargo deliveries, which were prevalent in WWII. Daisy mixes his own experiences with stories of the world, and it's fascinating. The show was only $15 for a student ticket, but I would not have gotten home until midnight tonight, and I didn't relish the idea of wandering the Metro station alone that late.

Actually, reading the review that I linked above rather makes me regret not staying...but anyway,

A few low points of today: the Metro having technical difficulties and spitting everyone out to wait for the next train; my running out in the street in front of a police car; several favorite paintings not being on display; losing my purse.

But overall, a fantastic, fantastic day. Laura Time was a success.

One place

In college, you're at the same place for four years, but the view changes each time. We're always in different dorms, classrooms, and (at this school) dining halls and theatres. It helps us to distinguish when memories took place by cataloging where they took place.

At the end of this long week and these short four years, I find myself staring at one single view that has remained constant all this time: the view from behind the circulation desk.

Front door, Mac lab, shelves, table, computer and again and again from the view of two rotating wheely chairs. Is this the college experience?

Right now I am bored out of my mind.

Reality Mirroring Fiction

It's been a slow couple of weeks, so there's not much to talk about, but I've noticed a certain trend that I want to contemplate.

I've been memorizing Christopher Durang's Baby With the Bathwater in anticipation of rehearsals, which will begin in a week (remember I'm playing the crazy mother, Helen). Though I've only gotten through the first act, it seems like I'm reliving half of the stuff that goes on. Example: my parents were bickering one day, and they used THREE lines from the scene where Helen and John are arguing. Also (slightly unrelated?) I found myself switching moods radically one afternoon, quite similar to Helen's bipolar tendencies.

The point of a good play is that it draws us into a new world, while forcing us to contemplate our own realities (or something like that). But do I want my world to slip into the bathwater? I don't think so. Those people are nuts.

Church Thoughts

Do people at church ever refuse communion because of a gluten allergy? What if the one of the Twelve Disciples had refused bread at the last supper? "Sorry, man, I'm going carb-free this week."