Last December I graduated from college with major in Advertising and Integrated Marketing Communications and a double minor in Psychology and Sociology. I thought I had set myself for life. During the time it took for me to get my BA, something in the world of business changed. Now you need nothing less than a Masters degree to make any money in this life. In high school, it was pounded into our heads that we would never get a decent job without a degree and I believed them.
First I went to a community college and paid the tuition out of my own pocket. (I’m pretty proud of that.) As I got closer to finishing my Associates degree I began planning the rest of my educational career. I had everything set up. I was going to start at SIUC that fall. All of my classes transferred over with ease. I had all of my classes lined up. I knew where I was going to live. I had a list of everything I was going to need to take with me. I did not, however, have the means to pay for any of it. I applied for financial aid but was not eligible, not because my parents made too much money but because they didn’t make enough. Sounds backwards, huh? I won’t go into the whole “woe is me” drama of it all but let’s just say; make sure you file your taxes every year. I applied for every scholarship known to man. (Surprisingly, they don’t give engineering scholarships to communications majors. Go figure.) And I tried to apply for loans on my own but loan companies don’t want to give money to 22-year-old college students with no credit and making $5.15 per hour.
At the very last minute, in a moment of weakness, I asked for help from a family member, my aunt T who had recently completed college. I wanted to know if there was anything I was overlooking, if there was secret money somewhere that only post-grads knew about. I figured she had been through the rigmarole and might be able to help me out. And help she did. Ever so graciously, she co-signed on a loan for me and I went to school that year.
The next year, I was 23 and able to get a loan on my own. Having never gone through the process on my own, my aunt T was willing to help me whenever I miffed it up. The next (and last) year I was 24 and finally able to apply for financial aid with my own tax information. Every question and quibble I had, my Aunt T would get a call from me, and without missing a beat she always knew how to help. I finally graduated.
Right out of school, I got a job at an Advertising Agency with a big fancy title. It was like the freaking American Dream. The pay was mediocre, but I assumed that’s how it goes for most entry-level workers. After two months of working there, I was already unhappy in my position. My bosses promised big things from the very beginning and rarely came through. They would tell me that I was “in training” and not to worry because, before I knew it, I would be up to my ears in marketing plans, copywriting, and advertising campaigns.
Six months later, I am still filing paperwork, answering the phones, and refilling the same paperwork that the big wigs can’t seem to put away after they’re done. (Come on now, didn’t we all watch Sesame Street when we were growing up? Clean up your freaking toys when you’re done playing with them!!)
I have expressed my dissatisfaction:
Me: Big Boss Man, I am looking for new challenges and projects that will stretch my skills in my position.
BBM: I know that you’re bored but I’m just too busy to take the time to show you how to do the things I hired you to do. (I may have embellished a little.)
What ticks me right off is that I don’t need to be shown how to write copy for a commercial and I don’t need to be shown how to create a marketing plan. I just spent the last three years of my life (not including my time at the community college) preparing for this damn job in which I make less per year than the amount I'll have to pay back in student loans.
So, what’s my solution to this predicament? I’m back in school. Not to get my masters degree but for cosmetology. (My apologies for that ‘one-eighty’ I may have just pulled on you.) Yes, I have decided that, in the mere eight months I’ve been in the advertising industry, that “I just can’t do it cap’n! I just can’t do it!”
Who knows, I may stick with advertising if I can find another, more fulfilling position. But, for now I just can’t wait around for something amazing to happen to my career. I have to know that I’m working towards something because, right now, I can’t help but feel like I’m going to be reorganizing that damned filing cabinet until I’m 80.
30 July 2007
23 July 2007
My cat, Pepper...
... went into liver failure and had to be put to sleep last week.
I miss him so much.
I miss him so much.
18 July 2007
What Your Family Doesn't Know...
Last weekend I went to my old college roommate's wedding, G. She married a guy, S, that lived two doors down from us in the dorms. It was an especially emotional event for me because I had known them both before they decided to get hitched. During the ceremony the reverend made mention of the beginning of their relationship and how it all began. He didn't go into specifics but, if you would, turn your gaze to the SIU alumni sitting third pew from the front:
We (the SIU alumni) sat politely in our church garb with smirks on our faces remembering that fateful night. There were no long walks along Campus Lake. S did not whisper sweet nothings in G's ear. They did not stare deeply into each other’s eyes and realize - at that very moment - that they were forever meant to be together.
The night started, for S, with an innocent game of poker and some smuggled Sparks with his buddies in the dorms. After S emptied his wallet and downed a few beers he headed off to bed. The poker game continued without him into the wee hours of the morning.
For G, her dear friend (me) took her to a house party where we met up with a couple of friends. It was the traditional 'girls night out.' We drank Boones Farm from plastic martini glasses, sang karaoke to whatever song was on the radio, graduated from Boones to vodka shots (you know, the six dollar kind), and danced on the furniture into the night.
After we were done "shakin' our g-thangs" we headed back to the dorms to happily find the poker party still in session. After joining in the festivities for a while, G wandered off to what we assumed was her own room. A while later she returned and slurred, "Wherzze S?" (That translates to "Where's S?" for those of you who don't speak fluent drunk.) Not thinking anything about it, we pointed her in the direction of S's room. She entered, tried to close the door, and failed. As the poker party simmered down we started to wonder what G and S were up to for so long and why they didn't come join the fiesta. We pushed open the ajar door and (I'm sure you can see where this is going) once our eyes adjusted to the dark and we saw the moving lump under the cover, the poker party of 10 year-old college students broke into squeals and giggles and hurriedly slammed the door.
And that, children, is the story of how G and S began their relationship. And as I sat in that pew, I wondered (as I'm sure my SIU counterparts were also wondering) what S & G's parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, 2nd cousins, nieces, and nephews thought had brought the lovebirds together. Did they innocently imagine the two took a moonlight stroll through the quads to the gymnasium? Or was it a quiet, candle lit dinner in the dining hall? I highly doubt any of them knew that a few bottles of Boones Farm and a 6-pack of Sparks would bring us all together to watch as S and G entered into the sanctity of marriage.
An now, ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, the lovely new couple, Mr. and Mrs. S.
We (the SIU alumni) sat politely in our church garb with smirks on our faces remembering that fateful night. There were no long walks along Campus Lake. S did not whisper sweet nothings in G's ear. They did not stare deeply into each other’s eyes and realize - at that very moment - that they were forever meant to be together.
The night started, for S, with an innocent game of poker and some smuggled Sparks with his buddies in the dorms. After S emptied his wallet and downed a few beers he headed off to bed. The poker game continued without him into the wee hours of the morning.
For G, her dear friend (me) took her to a house party where we met up with a couple of friends. It was the traditional 'girls night out.' We drank Boones Farm from plastic martini glasses, sang karaoke to whatever song was on the radio, graduated from Boones to vodka shots (you know, the six dollar kind), and danced on the furniture into the night.
After we were done "shakin' our g-thangs" we headed back to the dorms to happily find the poker party still in session. After joining in the festivities for a while, G wandered off to what we assumed was her own room. A while later she returned and slurred, "Wherzze S?" (That translates to "Where's S?" for those of you who don't speak fluent drunk.) Not thinking anything about it, we pointed her in the direction of S's room. She entered, tried to close the door, and failed. As the poker party simmered down we started to wonder what G and S were up to for so long and why they didn't come join the fiesta. We pushed open the ajar door and (I'm sure you can see where this is going) once our eyes adjusted to the dark and we saw the moving lump under the cover, the poker party of 10 year-old college students broke into squeals and giggles and hurriedly slammed the door.
And that, children, is the story of how G and S began their relationship. And as I sat in that pew, I wondered (as I'm sure my SIU counterparts were also wondering) what S & G's parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, 2nd cousins, nieces, and nephews thought had brought the lovebirds together. Did they innocently imagine the two took a moonlight stroll through the quads to the gymnasium? Or was it a quiet, candle lit dinner in the dining hall? I highly doubt any of them knew that a few bottles of Boones Farm and a 6-pack of Sparks would bring us all together to watch as S and G entered into the sanctity of marriage.
An now, ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, the lovely new couple, Mr. and Mrs. S.
12 July 2007
A Spotless Mind At Work
* I have a test tonight and haven't studied an ounce.
* I almost ran over a bunny today and now it's all I can think about.
* I'm the 'Guest Book Lady' in a wedding this weekend (not even good enough to be a brides maid) and I spent how much on that dress??!!
* Now I have to buy shoes to match.
* Still thinking about that bunny. I saw him run off the road, so I know he's OK but I had to roll down the windows in my car so the wind could dry the freaked out tears from my eyes before I got to work.
* Do you think she'll let me wear flip flops to her wedding??? I have green ones!
* I wish I was outside. I need a tan.
* Little Bunny Foo-Foo hopping through the... intersection...
* Last night I went to Lowe's and purchased PVC piping, electrical tape, a dowel rod, and a hand saw. Anyone want to hula hoop??
* I almost ran over a bunny today and now it's all I can think about.
* I'm the 'Guest Book Lady' in a wedding this weekend (not even good enough to be a brides maid) and I spent how much on that dress??!!
* Now I have to buy shoes to match.
* Still thinking about that bunny. I saw him run off the road, so I know he's OK but I had to roll down the windows in my car so the wind could dry the freaked out tears from my eyes before I got to work.
* Do you think she'll let me wear flip flops to her wedding??? I have green ones!
* I wish I was outside. I need a tan.
* Little Bunny Foo-Foo hopping through the... intersection...
* Last night I went to Lowe's and purchased PVC piping, electrical tape, a dowel rod, and a hand saw. Anyone want to hula hoop??
06 July 2007
Today I Choose Life - A Dedication
Today I choose life-
Every morning when I wake up I can choose joy, happiness, negativity, pain, To feel the freedom that comes from being able to continue to make mistakes and choices- today I choose to feel life, not to deny my humanity but embrace it. To embrace the fear of not knowing, of not having control over much of anything except my reaction to it and the control I have over my self and my actions. I let go of my sadness over past hurts to make room for today's journey. I've heard that life is a series of old doors closing and new doors opening, but its hell in the hallways. The fear of not knowing- were the next 30 days shown to me, would I want to go through the motions of reliving what I had been shown? Or would I want to prevent problems and change my own destiny? Well, I cannot tell the future but I can choose to direct my heart and soul towards good and loving acts- to say a silent prayer for the happiness of all- for the good to shine through. Just by thinking one positive thought I am redirecting my moment, my day, my life. Today I choose-
lol
Kevyn
This is a letter written by my favorite make-up artist Kevyn Aucoin written in April of 2002, less than a month before he passed away. His words, to me are like poetry and are endlessly inspiring. What inspires you??
Every morning when I wake up I can choose joy, happiness, negativity, pain, To feel the freedom that comes from being able to continue to make mistakes and choices- today I choose to feel life, not to deny my humanity but embrace it. To embrace the fear of not knowing, of not having control over much of anything except my reaction to it and the control I have over my self and my actions. I let go of my sadness over past hurts to make room for today's journey. I've heard that life is a series of old doors closing and new doors opening, but its hell in the hallways. The fear of not knowing- were the next 30 days shown to me, would I want to go through the motions of reliving what I had been shown? Or would I want to prevent problems and change my own destiny? Well, I cannot tell the future but I can choose to direct my heart and soul towards good and loving acts- to say a silent prayer for the happiness of all- for the good to shine through. Just by thinking one positive thought I am redirecting my moment, my day, my life. Today I choose-
lol
Kevyn
This is a letter written by my favorite make-up artist Kevyn Aucoin written in April of 2002, less than a month before he passed away. His words, to me are like poetry and are endlessly inspiring. What inspires you??
03 July 2007
Where, Oh Where, Has My Little Muse Gone?
Last night I spent my time on activities that epitomize the floating of my proverbial boat. If you don't know what I mean by this, take a moment to check out my profile.
Over my lunch hour I forwent the notion of foodstuff and nourishment and instead went to the bead store so eloquently named, The Beaded Pig. I spent my allotted hour sifting through oodles of gems, beads, charms, ornaments, crystals, chains, stones, tools, thread, glass, and other such fabulous trinkets. I was in 'pig' heaven as I exited the store with purchases in hand. My mind was all atwitter with inspiration. So much so, I barely made it through the rest of the daily grind.
Now, for my fellow virtuosos out there, you know as well as I that inspiration is fleeting. Once it's gone, it's gone. Forever. You must then move past that moment and wait ever-so patiently for the next. Well, if you haven't figured it out by now, my muse... my flash of inspiration... my motivation was gone. Before you roll your eyes, you have to understand, for me ideas come at the most inoppotune times. In a dream at 2 a.m. While I'm driving through a torrential rain storm. And once they come, I hold on to them with the grip of Andre the Giant.
After work, I sat in vain with my pieces, moving and shifting them from one spot to the next in hopes of regaining a sliver or remnant of my previous brainchild. Yet again, nothing. Desperately, I went out into the more commercial world of retail to hit up some craft stores. However, nothing is open in this town past dusk. I could see tumbleweeds for crying out loud! (Not really, I live in the midwest.) I did find a store with 10 more minutes before closing time and as a last ditch effort purchased a canvas and some paints. (Not even close to beading, I know.) With this medium, I had no trouble finding inspiration which resulted in a gloomy nude painting. It seems that the imaginative winds are a-changin for this wannabe artisan.
We'll have to wait to see what the future holds.
Over my lunch hour I forwent the notion of foodstuff and nourishment and instead went to the bead store so eloquently named, The Beaded Pig. I spent my allotted hour sifting through oodles of gems, beads, charms, ornaments, crystals, chains, stones, tools, thread, glass, and other such fabulous trinkets. I was in 'pig' heaven as I exited the store with purchases in hand. My mind was all atwitter with inspiration. So much so, I barely made it through the rest of the daily grind.
Now, for my fellow virtuosos out there, you know as well as I that inspiration is fleeting. Once it's gone, it's gone. Forever. You must then move past that moment and wait ever-so patiently for the next. Well, if you haven't figured it out by now, my muse... my flash of inspiration... my motivation was gone. Before you roll your eyes, you have to understand, for me ideas come at the most inoppotune times. In a dream at 2 a.m. While I'm driving through a torrential rain storm. And once they come, I hold on to them with the grip of Andre the Giant.
After work, I sat in vain with my pieces, moving and shifting them from one spot to the next in hopes of regaining a sliver or remnant of my previous brainchild. Yet again, nothing. Desperately, I went out into the more commercial world of retail to hit up some craft stores. However, nothing is open in this town past dusk. I could see tumbleweeds for crying out loud! (Not really, I live in the midwest.) I did find a store with 10 more minutes before closing time and as a last ditch effort purchased a canvas and some paints. (Not even close to beading, I know.) With this medium, I had no trouble finding inspiration which resulted in a gloomy nude painting. It seems that the imaginative winds are a-changin for this wannabe artisan.
We'll have to wait to see what the future holds.
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