I’ve lived in Seattle for nearly nine years now, long enough to know that the stereotype of the grungy, forgetful vegan pot-head Pacific Northwesterner is only sometimes apt. But when my husband mentioned last week that his New-York loving brother was considering a job at Reed College in Portland, I blurted, “But he’d hate it there!,” my impression of Reed being that it’s comprised entirely of people fitting this stereotype and my impression of my hip, snappy-dressing brother-in-law being that he has little tolerance for forgetful pot-heads or vegans—though I could be wrong.
My wildly oversimplified notions of Reed are based on stories from a polyamorous, Utilikilt-wearing Seattleite I went out with once (before I knew he was polyamorous or owned a Utilikilt or that The Polyamorous Utilikilt-Wearer was yet another Pacific Northwest type) and from a guy I went to college with back East who had transferred to Swarthmore from Reed at the beginning of his junior year. “Jake Anderson”—a blond, Canadian hockey-player who I met in biology lab—had made the switch from the tiny West Coast college to the tiny East Coast one, he said, because his sartorial style—worn-out vintagey tweed blazers over worn-out old shapeless t-shirts—was “too preppy” by Pacific Northwest standards.
Continue Reading Biology 101 »
This past weekend, while performing my daily sweep of The New York Times‘ columnists, I came across this interesting piece by Bob Herbert. I confess that I often find Herbert’s work to be redundant (“We are screwing the middle class!” – Yeah, but what else?) and downright dull, but this column hit me with the thunderbolt of self-recognition.
Herbert makes a provocative argument in slightly less than 800 words. We find a lot of ink these days devoted to America’s sinking ranking as a first world producer of competitive, college-educated young adults. But what about the ones who do emerge in four or five years, degree in hand? How are they faring when pitted against the challenges of real life? Herbert’s assessment is damning: “Students are hitting the books less and partying more. Easier courses and easier majors have become more and more popular. Perhaps more now than ever, the point of the college experience is to have a good time and walk away with a valuable credential after putting in the least effort possible.”
Continue Reading A Degree in Mediocrity »
Isn’t it every woman’s dream to date a firefighter? It is until you actually go through the ordeal of dating one. And then getting dumped. Here is the rebuttal letter my short-lived paramour “Mr. Ripples” will never read:
Dear “Mr. Ripples”,
I am writing to thank you for taking the time to dump me via text. Bold, courageous and tasteful are a few adjectives I can use to describe your thoughtful message:
“I know it’s perfectly cowardly to do this via text but I am feeling a moment of honest clarity and I feel I must tell you that I don’t think you should see me anymore.”
A moment of honest clarity? I’m touched that you spent a “moment” to grapple with the issue. Didn’t we just speak eight hours ago? Wasn’t that you prattling on about how you couldn’t wait to see me? And don’t get me started on all the texts. Proust wrote less than you.
Continue Reading The Unceremonious Break-Up »
I’ve been from California to Mexico many times before. When I was young, I looked at the solid colors and black lines on a map, and I saw the differences immediately. As years and technology progressed, we got the pictures from the satellites, and there didn’t seem to be any borders at all. But when you’re retired and you go south in search of winter warmth for many years, you know that the border fence and the guards and customs are artificial constructs. The border is in fact a gradation, so the place to begin the crossing is somewhat arbitrary.
Parkfield, California is a good place to start the journey. The San Andreas Fault runs through, looking like some kind of giant surgical wound that been freshly sewn on the land. This is where the Pacific Plate rubs up against the North American Plate, and like the US border with Mexico it’s quiet for long periods of time, punctuated by earthquakes of various magnitudes. The nearest city of any kind to Parkfield is Bakersfield (a Mexican city to be sure) but Mexico there is buried under a huge overburden of Republican agribusiness money and fast food franchises. The land around Parkfield is part of the true California – the California that has not significantly changed since the time that Father Junipero Serra brought Christianity and Spanish slavery to the Indians. As you travel on Route 41 to the coast, you see more of the unsullied California. The hills are golden and rolling and filled with oak trees, and the farms are really estates made up of vineyards. Vast undeveloped tracts of land still belong to the Hearst family, and thinking of William Randolph and the Hearsts that came after him will give you some understanding about the primal motives that drive the state and how changes actually occur.
Continue Reading Crossing the Border »
She tempted me from the beginning. The minute I saw her – sleek, sexy, modern, and ready to take on the world – she won me over. I had to have her.
Our relationship was immediate. She became a part of my soul, my daily routine.
She was so demanding. She needed things and I spent the money on her. First a pink coat, then more memory, then a car charger. Apps, maps, and magazines. All of it brought us closer together.
There came a time when I knew she had me over the top. One night I took her to bed with me, and my husband put a stop to it. He could not take it anymore, and did not want her in our bed. I understood. Three’s a crowd, and he just didn’t understand my constant desire for her.
Then this morning it all ended as quickly as it began. In the blink of an eye, she was gone. Pinkie showed me the dreaded white screen of death.
Continue Reading Pinkie Dumped Me »
Dear Editor,
It’s been some time since I’ve written in to a newspaper; I find I just don’t have many pressing or sensitive issues to address in my daily life. I’ve been living in Toronto for three years and have been enjoying life in the big city. But, recently I’ve noticed a lacking on the busy city streets, an absence, if you will.
Where have all the douche bags gone?
(Side note: For those of you lucky enough to have gone through life without encountering a douche bag, let me explain their demeanor. This is a word to describe an individual who has shown themselves to be a complete waste of oxygen, thus comparing them to the cleansing product for vaginas.)
Moving on…
Continue Reading Letter to the Editor »
I’ve never felt comfortable in my historical space.
Sandwiched in between the thrilling advances of the 1960’s and what looks to be the decline of the American Empire, my generation lacks the adrenaline-inspiring rush of in-person experiences.
Members of the free love generation traveled in VW buses to meet those of like mind and to experience everything that pharmacology, passion and possibility could offer. My generation hunkered down, studied hard and prayed for jobs on Wall Street.
Upon achieving slightly defeated middle age we timidly reach out, through the once-removed safety of the internet, protected by our Avatars and our screen names.
Instead of fully embracing the amazing changes that my life and times have brought, I waste time wondering: what would it have been like to have been of age when there were crucial battles to be fought? The Greatest Generation defended the planet from the evil Nazis. Civil rights marchers highlighted the moral error of centuries. Flower children ushered in new ways of thinking about gender roles, sex and family.
Continue Reading The Thirteenth Generation »
Having barely survived this past weekend’s Black Friday, Small Business Saturday, and as we the American consumer make our way through Cyber Monday, I am worn out from the retail experience a month away from my family’s interfaith celebration. A collective of Christians, Hindus and Muslims, we are able to reach across the aisle to embrace the secular side of the holiday season: the food, the gifts, the music, and most especially the family togetherness. We pride ourselves on finding the most cost effectively fabulous gifts, and love every moment of the window shopping work it takes to get there. Or at least that’s the way things worked in healthier years.
This annum, I am unemployed – for the second time. My sister and her husband are underwater with their mortgage, after refinancing their home a couple of years before the markets exploded in one giant, universe wrecking supernova. My husband and brother-in-law are gainfully employed but shell shocked by layoff experiences of the past that have set them permanently on edge. My nieces, perfect human beings of ages 11 and 3, have had special education and minor surgical needs, respectively. None of that, as is obvious to every parent in the nation, is anywhere close to free.
Continue Reading Tired of Spending »
In the Shadows of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade
I shouldn’t be writing this. If they ever find out, my family could be in grave danger. But what’s the point of living if the secrets keep me from sleeping? Whistleblower? Maybe. Hero? Your words, not mine. In any case, the truth must be above all else. That’s why, in the face of what could be an unspeakable retaliation, I pen this so that you, Earth, know exactly what life is like as a clown in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.
When they got their grips into me, I was a temporary employee in the Macy’s legal department. I was fresh out of confidence, and had little to show for my twenty seven years on earth. And the whole “temp” situation wasn’t exactly helping. “I see here you have two Bachelor’s degrees and are working on a Masters. Terrific. Now if you’ll just move these century old case files from this room to that one over there, I’ll be more than happy to sign your time sheet.” I had been there a week when I developed a bond with a friendly paralegal. What I didn’t know at the time was that this “friend” had a second life. She was a “Clown Captain.”
Continue Reading I Love A Parade »
A 101 Introduction for College Grads Wanting to Become Modern-Day Mad Men
There’s no denying how the crippled job market has impacted several industries. My realm in particular, Marketing & Advertising, was once all about large agencies and their slew of clientele. The ‘work hard, play hard’ mentality still exists – the expectation of working nights and weekends, and participating in dinners, events, or golf outings – but a lot has changed since the age of drinking Old Fashioneds all day with Don Draper.
This industry has become more fiercely competitive than ever. With clients’ marketing budgets shrinking, those that control the bottom line are looking for alternatives. In some cases, they are choosing to eliminate their Agency of Record (AOR) all together and bid out to several entities in order to gain the biggest bang for their buck. This only puts agencies under more pressure to deliver a knock out punch as it may be their only shot. This intensity is also felt by the agency’s hiring manager, flipping through numerous applicants vying for that one particular job; a potential goldmine to some.
Continue Reading Hope for the Hopeless »
