Consider The Writer

This week has been all about preparing for the Greater Grad Career Fair Downtown. Appropriate yet stylish new suit? Check. Ironed button-down shirt in the loudest color I could get away with? Bright pink, yeah! Panty hose and heels? …unfortunately, yes. Twelve resumes on cardstock paper? Got it. 60-second promotional speech on what a professional writer could do for them? Yes…wait, what?

I came to the career fair intending to sell my business minor and my previous work experiences. (I’m interning at a publishing company! I used to teach French college students to speak and write English!) Oklahoma is known for their oil and gas industries and not their writers. I was amazed when I realized they were actually interested in my Blog Critics articles, my blog and that I worked on the paper in high school.

One statement I’m not sure I responded to well enough was “You seem to be into the creative side of writing.” They were looking for a technical writer. The real question was, “Could you handle the business side of writing?” My answer to that is, Absolutely.

But how could someone who aspires to be a fantasy novelist possibly possess the skills to write about management or IT?

The proof is in the practice not the content.

Here are three things writers are universally that make them universally valuable:

First, writers are researchers. It doesn’t matter if I’m writing a news story or a character sketch or an instruction manual. Before anything goes down on the page, I have to believe without a shadow of a doubt that I know what I’m talking about. The agreement when a reader chooses to spend their time on our writing is that we won’t waste their time by being uninformed. That’s trust. That goal is also applicable in any respectable job field. A person unafraid to spend the time getting her work right is invaluable.

Second, writers are teachers. A writer bangs furiously on the keyboard for three main reasons: to inform, to persuade, or to entertain. Informing is arguably the most important. We love to share our knowledge and experiences. If you don’t believe me, think briefly of the massive self-help section in Barnes & Noble. We love teaching! In our (sometimes unsolicited) wisdom, we strive to connect you to the reverence we have for human rights, politics, conservation and, yes, shoes. We translate political-speak into something that makes sense for you. We take apart difficult concepts (what exactly happened to the economy, anyway?) discard the finger-pointing and give you what is important. Successful companies are founded on excellent communication (as are all relationships.) Successful communication is what writers do.

Third, writers are self-motivated. Writing is not a profession people go into for profit. There isn’t a niche for writers who hate writing but want someone to pay them. Writers without passion don’t fare well. They never make it that far. Part of this is because our passion is directly proportional to the amount of money we make. Yeah, we could just write that one piece for the paper or magazine per month, but we’d like to use the air conditioner this summer so we’ll pick up other opportunities to make that happen. If we’re very lucky, we’ll spend months and months and months locked up in the home office trying to create the next bestseller while our friends have forgotten what we look like and our family is afraid to knock on the door because of what happened "last time." Giving unlimited time to a profession that may never give back the amount of time we spent on self-educating and creating isn’t for the weak of heart. That’s passion, dear readers. There are plenty of employees out there, but tell me: how many are passionate about what they do?

The job hunt is getting worse every day, and the girl with the ‘Professional Writing’ sticker isn’t always taken seriously. She knows, however, that she’s every bit as capable of doing a great job as the business majors. So please, esteemed readers, consider the writer.

An experience abroad

I really wish I’d realized how much going abroad would be like re-entering high school. The most tempting faux pas is everyone’s biggest mistake: trying to fit in.
Because, as a foreigner, all you want is to blend into the background to better observe the culture. I’m going to assume this is you, not the pompous ethnocentric whose goal abroad is to “educate” everyone else. Yes? Good. Moving on…
In your country of choice, the “seniors” are the local co-eds. They’ve stepped out every foreign fantasy you’ve had to stare coolly at your carefully selected a la mode outfit and mumble too fast for you to understand. You want so badly to be one of them, but no matter how hard you try they either roll their eyes or suppress giggles when you test your French. Of course, as in high school, these cool kids are just like everyone else-preoccupied with their own worries and problems. The only thing that separates you from the pack is your cute new-kid-on-the-block innocence. They’ve been here much longer, so don’t stress when you don’t instantly “get it.”
In France, they know immediately that you aren’t French. If you try too hard to dress or act French, you will offend them. The French have a deep pride in their nationality that doesn’t reach those without a lengthy French ancestry. No matter how long you live there, you won’t be French. For now, be yourself. I know, it was an impossible concept to grasp at age 16 and, unfortunately, it hasn’t gotten any easier. As long as you remember you are a guest in their country, you will notice more genuine interest.
Yes, you are the freshman here. This doesn’t mean, however, that you should limit yourself to the other freshman, specifically those of the same nationality. One would think that being an American abroad would mean I would, by default, have something in common with the other Americans abroad.
One would be wrong.
I met a guy from Denver who refused to speak to me in English or about American-related things. I understand absorbing the culture but I sensed he didn’t want to be identified as “foreign.” I believe he is a prime candidate for trying too hard to fit in (see paragraph above.)
There were eight Americans in my “Ville Française” from my school. None of us knew each other and while we did learn to live and travel together, an insane amount of back-biting broke out before the semester was over. You don’t have to ostracize yourself from your fellow countrymen and women, but make sure to venture outside your circle every once in a while.
I had the most fun hanging out with my classmates. In the French school I attended, we were broken up into levels and classes. In 3C, I had a group of close friends that had a Vietnamese barbeque, did projects together, and went out for drinks after finals. We were Mexican, Brazilian, Chinese, Taiwanese, American and Vietnamese. None of us spoke the same language so we had to use French to communicate. I was having too much fun to recognize I was learning until my grades skyrocketed.
Abroad, especially in France, it is impossible to be too polite. In the United States, being too formal or overly polite would arouse the suspicion that you were not sincere. The more you say “S’il vous plait, Merci, Madame and Monsieur” over there, the faster doors open. You may learn doors do not open quickly in France. Therefore, any advantage is worth exploiting.
By the end of the freshman year things have changed drastically. You have a new group of friends, a new independence and a new perspective on life. Just like in high school, your experience abroad will change you. I hope it does. Bon chance!

The OU Alpha Chi Video- from an OU student's perspective

I found out about this yesterday just before my Management *shudders* final. At that time, the YouTube video featuring an Alpha Chi Omega at the University of Oklahoma crying because she had drunkenly taken the fire extinguisher to her sorority house to "make it snow," already had over 5,000 hits. This morning, as I was cruising the blog circuit, it was EVERYWHERE. It has been removed from YouTube since, but not fast enough.
Admittedly, the video is hilarious (in a mean way.) The girl is sobbing drunkenly and trying to apologize for ruining the house. When her "friend" taping the entire thing tries to calm her down, she stutters that she "only thought it would be a little *poof*" and not an explosion of foam. Classic. I can't tell you what I would've given to be there for the foam party. My problem with it is that the director of this film decided it was necessary to humiliate this, hopefully, otherwise sane girl by posting it on YouTube.
It kills me that every time Oklahoma gets press, it always seems to reinforce the "backwards dumbass" image I'm afraid is becoming popular. I also had the history teacher that was taken into custody in 2004 for staging a fake robbery while his wife was home so he could play the hero. He is the reason I aced the AP Euro exam. Unfortunately, the world will remember him for his poorly-thought out plan to score points with his wife.
The point is I feel really sorry for this girl. There are countless college students that drink and do ridiculous things -even destructive things. Pulling the fire extinguisher out because she "wanted to make it snow" is largely harmless. The only reason she's being targeted is because she had the kind of friend we all hope to avoid. The kind that sits back and watches you be an idiot. The kind that goes the extra mile to post it on YouTube so everyone else can laugh at you too!

What do you think?

Meeting the Parents

My parents, of course, don’t understand why this is so stressful for our generation. They aren’t meeting the parents. To them, they’re just taking an active interest in their children’s lives. My mother thinks my brother and I often “hide” our friends and dates from them. Maybe that’s the reason we’re hesitant to bring people by. We don’t understand why they are so interested in these people anyway.
Nevertheless, meeting the parents is a tradition that eventually both sides will want to fulfill. The adults will want to make sure you aren’t going out with a serial killer and your boyfriend will want to make sure you aren’t a total nutcase. Or if you are, it’s only because your family has driven you to that state.
Supposedly, it’s easier for girls to meet the guy’s parents. His family is usually less concerned that the girlfriend is corrupting their sweet baby boy. Usually. The standard modest dress, polite manner, and stellar personality tests still apply as a girl.
There are all types of terrifying stereotypes that go with meeting the girl’s parents. If you are wholly unfamiliar, rent Meet the Parents (2000) with Ben Stiller. If you will soon be meeting the parents, however, resist. Trust me, you’ll sleep better for it.
So how to you ace a test that you can’t possibly study for? Sure your significant other can go over possible questions but there aren’t any multiple choice answers and even a good intention can come off wrong in certain situations.
Stop cramming and listen to me. Perfection is not expected. A little bit of nerves only means that this is important to you and the adults will pick up on that. Just in case you need help dialing down the stress here are a few words of encouragement.
The big one is these people want to meet you. They’ve cleared space in their lives because they are interested in getting to know you. Reluctance would be bad but they are excited to see who’s made such an impression on their son or daughter. They want to like you and that is the honest truth. They like their son or daughter. Their son or daughter likes you. You make their son or daughter happy. This makes them happy. They’d like to keep it that way by liking you too.

A few things to think about:

1. In informal situations, nice jeans and a polo (for both sexes) work very well. Girls may choose to accessorize with heels and earrings but go easy. When you try too hard the parents wonder why you feel you have to compensate.

2. Khakis and a dress shirt become the guy wear when things are more formal. Girls, nothing above your knees should be showing. No cleavage and circumstances where shoulders are displayed should be rare. You aren’t trying to look hot, leave the tight stuff at home.

3. Gifts are often overrated. Flowers are something your hostess has to now take care of. Alcohol is inappropriate when any member of the party is underage and it isn’t a nice dinner. If you must, make it small, simple and homemade. Dessert is always accepted. The best way to tell if you should bring a gift is to know the plans beforehand. It’s hard to eat cookies and go waterskiing.
The bottom line: what would Grandma do? And for God’s sake, RELAX!

Nobody Asked Abby

The hardest lesson I’ve had to learn so far is how to keep my mouth shut. I’m not talking about being silent when something you believe in is threatened. I’m not talking about passively ignoring your problems by being incommunicative. What I am trying to learn is how to swallow unsolicited advice.

I’m the eldest of three siblings and a girl. Statistics say this means I am bossy and protective of the people around me. In this case, statistics are overwhelmingly correct.

I have this need to “fix” people. My spidey senses don’t tell me when people are in trouble, they tell me there is a lost soul out there whose life could be better if only I tell them how to change. My spidey sense is kind of pompous.

In my defense, I seem to have a homing beacon for people who love to share their problems. I’ve had complete strangers in front of me in line at a store that will turn around and ask why their best friend is such a flake. The cashiers love to gossip about the cute bag boy that they’ve been trying to get a date with for weeks. Back at home, my roommate cannot figure out why she is used as a doormat.

To me, it all seems relatively simple. The best friend is a flake because girls with new boyfriends, jobs or hobbies like to forget about life pre-new-shiny-toy. She’ll wander back eventually. Boys the cashier’s age are often oblivious to girls that don’t flaunt themselves. If you want a date with him, it’s time to ask. My sweetheart of a roommate is a doormat because she feels she needs certain people in her life and is desperate to have them there; she’ll tolerate anything from them so as not to feel alone.

Before my epiphany, I would have told them exactly that. The sly trick is, though these people sound like they honestly want help with their problem, that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

No one that does not expressly ask for an honest opinion (and even then it’s iffy) wants the truth. They know the truth. They don’t like the truth. I’m going to refrain from telling you “they can’t handle the truth” but you get the idea.

What these people want is a sympathetic sound (awww, that sucks!) or an ignorant opinion that is much more pleasing to their sensitive psyche (If you really love him, you're ready to give up everything for him.)

On the off chance that they do listen and you’re wrong, you will be blamed. Oh, and if you are right, you will also be blamed. These people don’t like the truth, remember? You’ve pointed out something that’s been in front of them the whole time and suddenly it’s as if you made it appear. You evil trouble-maker, what did you do that for?

I may be cynical but I’m not unsympathetic. I have tissues and soothing tea ready for the next friend crisis. My phone is on most nights in case I am needed. But Ask Abby has left the building. The people with pitchforks made her nervous.

Baglady makes Big Bucks

Move over Mary Kay there’s a new queen bee in town. For years the stay-at-home mom/saleslady has pedaled makeup and skincare to make extra money the fashionable way. Now, with B’s Purses, “work parties” may never be the same.

B’s Purses began when co-founder Susan Guillen was sewing self-designed purses and selling them to friends for extra money. As demand grew Linda Henderson helped develop a marketing plan that has revolutionized the way we’ll shop for bags of all shapes and sizes. With the site’s newfound fame, Susan Masters created the masterful systems and operations plan that keeps the merchandise moving today.

The coolest thing about B’s is that you (yes, you sitting in front of the screen in your bathrobe and bunny slippers) get to design your own bag. Who doesn’t love being able to tell people that you made the clutch that they’re drooling over?

Choosing from the numerous luggage, tote bag, purse, and clutch templates is hard enough but the sheer volume of fabric and detail combinations is enough to make a girl giddy. There is a large virtual representation, which can be viewed from three angles, of your bag that changes as you test different options. If you’re as fashion-retarded as I am, they even have an “info” button next to each fabric swatch that gives you material details and suggestions for embellishing your bag.

Jealous that you didn’t think of it first? No worries, they’re always looking for new “representatives” a la Avon lady. B’s reps launch their career hosting “purse parties” to spread the word, have personal websites of their own and always take a healthy percentage of the profit. If you get your girlfriends to do it too, you also get part of their share. These ladies are nothing but professional, highlighting their online business features that allow each rep to track the shipping of all customer purchases, their personal commission and place new orders.

I’m not much of a saleslady but there is a definite allure to the power of choice. Log on to http://bspurses.com/ to channel Kate Spade and make a masterpiece of your own.

Freedom of Speech= Free to be an idiot

[caption id="attachment_21" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="Imagine this but 20 times worse. Image from http://www.foundingbloggers.com/"][/caption]

What. The. Hell.

I was minding my own business that morning, slowly dragging from my morning class to the union for a revitalizing cup of coffee, when I saw it. Yes, IT. It looked like a concert backdrop. From my vantage point all I could see were colorful pictures stretched on canvas two stories high.

Then I got closer.

There was something amiss about these photos. Mainly, I was wondering why there was so much red. Like someone had splashed the subject with ketchup just before taking the photograph.

Want to know why?

This was not a concert backdrop. Concert backdrops did not display 4-foot photographs of mutilated babies like it was an enormous scrapbook page. At least no concert that I’d ever been to had setups like this. Babies in all recognizable forms were covered in blood too red to be real but just enough to make me recoil in disgust. Coffee was not longer and option. My appetite had jumped ship and was halfway to Mexico by now.

Yes, I was awake now, but the anti-abortion rally nightmare was real and still looming down at me.

Worse, I was pissed. I am a college junior. I’ve seen my fair share of freak shows abusing their freedom of speech to push their propaganda on our impressionable values. My freshman year, Preacher Bob called me a whore one day for wearing a knee-length skirt. The next day he told me I was going to hell for wearing pants (apparently, I was trying to be a man and that it was “unnatural.”) Today’s show of intolerance and vomit-inducing scare tactic, however, is just too much.

To add insult to my disgust, there was a tiny bulletin board that read “freedom of speech” and had markers attached so you could give your opinion. So, basically, it’s ok for enormous and grotesque dead babies to be seen from miles away but if I have a problem with it, I must write my complaints on an itty bitty board off to the side?!

What if I’d rather take their approach? I know a few guys with a potato launcher; I’m sure I could demonstrate my feelings about their rally effectively with it. Or maybe I could take those tiny markers and creatively defame their giant eyesores? Something like “Sex is fun” should horrify them enough to get the hell off my campus.

What side you take on the “Abortion debate” is unimportant today. Scaring people to pick your side is wrong. The intelligent people, (which are the people you want on your side, by the way) are only going to shake their heads and back quietly across the debate line where they are safe. Back to the side that isn’t going to make people lose their lunch. Next time you want to inform people take a less dictator-like approach, okay?