The Plight of the MA, or WAH WAH WAH

At least three times a week, I wake up at 4:45 in the morning, dress in a black polo shirt, and a pair of black pants with frayed hems and faded knees--pants which I have been wearing five days a week for the last eight months. I brush my teeth, and stumble through the streets of Somerville half-asleep, jingling the key in my pocket to make sure it's there and I won't arrive at work only to find that I have to turn right around again. For the next eight hours, I steam milk, pump syrup, pull shots, clean up messes, get yelled at for pumping the wrong amount of syrup, wrestle with frozen sandwiches and 25 lb boxes of coffee, and talk to everyone--coworkers, customers, hangers-on--about jobs.

Because, you see, none of us have them. Or at least not the ones we want. Almost everyone I work with is a college grad, two of us have our MAs, all of us are currently looking for employment that doesn't involve a green apron. I have been searching now for 14 months, and am in the exact same position I was before I obtained my $45,000 education.

Now, I understand that I am lucky to have a job at all, and especially lucky to have received a promotion three months after I began working so that my wages are almost livable (emphasis on the "almost"), but that doesn't change the fact that I worked for 6 years getting the education that was supposed to set me apart, and all it did was delay my entrance into the work force and make me a full-time latte peddler instead.

And the job search, which should be a point of hope--every time I get an interview, for example, my mood should be lightened--has, in fact, become a continuous crushing blow to my confidence. Perhaps that is because I have had a particularly unlucky run. I was sent to the wrong interview by HR in one instance, which was quite possibly the most embarrassing and confusing experience of my life. I have interviewed for two jobs where there were internal applicants and I was a pawn in the HR game of equal opportunity. And in every instance where I have interviewed--EVERY SINGLE ONE--I have been assured that I was their second choice.

The biggest problem I face now is my own resolve. I somehow have to balance an overwhelming feeling of defeat, inadequacy, and, let's face it, failure, with the necessary confidence it takes to get a job in the first place. If you enter an interview with the attitude that you can't possibly get the job, then you won't get the job, but where can that confidence come from if you are told time and time again that although you are qualified for the position, and they really liked you, and your interview went very well, but "we just decided to go another way"? It's difficult to think anything but WHAT ELSE CAN I POSSIBLY FUCKING DO?!

I try to stick to the small glimmers of hope that I have, and the little superstitions that get me through the day. I will not, for instance, buy another pair of pants that meets dress code regulation because that would be a sign that I am giving in, that I am investing in my mocha-filled future, and that I will not get a job that I would actually mildly enjoy.

I know that I'm not alone here, and I know that there are hundreds of thousands of people in my exact same position, but that doesn't make it any easier. It really just reminds me of how many more people there are out there that I can come in second to.

Welcome to another episode of WTF, brought to you by UO.com

Do you ever have those days when you forget your pants? Or forget the basic principles of everyday modesty? Or forget what the difference is between "cute" and "ugly?" Apparently Urban Outfitters does. Sometimes I am sad that I give them so much money.

Beware. This may *actually* cause you physical pain:

Shhhh.  Don't scare it away.  This is the very rare skort-romper combination last seen on a four-year-old in 1982.  

Oh, hello.  I seem to have forgotten my pants.

Me too!  Isn't it funny how we've been wearing pants all our lives and suddenly we don't find them necessary anymore?  Mmmmm, breezy.

I thought these were the ugliest, most unflattering things I had ever seen until...

Oh. Dear. God.  Sheer body suit.  Lace bra. BUBBLE SHORTS? This makes me wish she had forgotten her pants.

Obviously, I made an impact.

Last semester I tried my hand at teaching for the first time, and while it was successful overall, I always felt like I wasn't completely getting through to my students.  There were many who didn't improve, who seemed happy to accept a B- and go on with their academic careers.  That's all fine and good, but when our student evaluations came last week, I at least wanted to see some sign that I wasn't going to go down as that completely ridiculous teacher who accidentally showed a picture of something being shoved into an asshole. (Always check what will come up in your YouTube recommendations before sharing with the class). 

The response was mostly positive, but there was one student who was consistently giving me bad numerical ratings, and who was negative overall in my review.  Turns out, it was because he/she (I am feigning ignorance here.  I know exactly who it was) thought I was too hard of a grader.  And in the comments he/she wrote the following:

"If your going to be a hard grader, at least have a reason." 

The proof is in the pudding.  I'm changing lives here people, just not their ability to distinguish between "your" and "you're" apparently.  

Worr-E

It's no secret that I have a certain (some would say unhealthy) affinity for all things Disney and Disneyland.  I celebrated both my high school *and* college graduation at Disneyland, the only difference between those and my childhood trips being the penis jokes that arose (excuse me) from the prevalence of signs advertising "foot-longs." (There are lots of hot dog stands there.) So, maturity all around, really.  Yesterday I dragged my (very cooperative, thank you) boyfriend to see "Wall-E" on opening weekend.  Yes, I paid $10.50 to watch a cartoon.  But it turns out, it was not just a good Disney movie, but a really good movie.  

In fact, the main thing I would worry about with Wall-E, is that I have no idea how it is going to connect with kids.  The movie has almost no dialogue, and is really a pretty bold environmental and societal statement.  There are more references to "2001: A Space Odyssey" than anything else, and most of the jokes will go straight over kids' heads.  I think the kids sitting next to us dozed off halfway through the movie.  All of the laughs and awwws came from the adults in the audience (including me).

Of course, there is some hypocrisy inherent in the film, especially since it is coming from Disney. (Don't think just because I love to ride the Peter Pan ride, I don't know how evil Disney is.  It is an internal conflict I deal with every day.)  For those of you who don't know, Wall-E is a movie about a trash-compacting robot who is left on earth after it has been deemed uninhabitable by humans.  The remaining humans are left flying on Royal-Caribbean-style cruise spaceships, where their lives have become so sedentary that they take all their meals in cups and don't know how to walk.  There is an evil corporation that encourages nothing but buying and consuming (Disney, anyone?), overproduction of waste and pollution (Disney, anyone?), and an unhealthy brand alliance to the huge corporation (ahem).  

So, Disney-Pixar has released a film that is decidedly pro-environment, anti-corporation, and anti-consumption.  I'm assuming Wall-E dolls have already gone on sale.  Wall-E's love interest, Eve, would make a pretty cute clock radio.  And that wonder of a man, Steve Jobs, somehow got an ipod product placement, as well as the Apple start-up chime worked into the movie, which was otherwise--to my knowledge--devoid of any product placement.  Perhaps I am being a bit cynical here, but I can't help but think that Disney is doing nothing but capitalizing on the recent green movement (kind of like Wal-Mart's "see how green we are?" commercial that encourages consumers to buy Brita pitchers instead of water bottles).  

I loved the movie, but can't help but feel, well, a little suckered.  I wonder if my thinking "Great!  Disney finally released a socially-conscious movie" is exactly what they want me to think.  They have lured me in once again.  I'm just their puppet.  Like Pinocchio.  Ha.  Jiminy Cricket. I love that movie.  Wait, what was I talking about? I'll take that clock radio now.  

Under my umbrella...uh...uh...uh?

I'd like to thank eonline.com for this little gem (please take note of the first line): 

To be fair, I don't think anything can really be described as a "thinking-person's (something)," but this seems especially egregious.  

Although, she is a master at the extended metaphor:

"Shut up and Drive"

I've been looking for a driver who's qualified

So if you think that you're the one step into my ride

I'm a fine-tuned supersonic speed machine

With a sunroof top and a gangster lean.

So if you feel me let me know, know, know

Come on now what you waiting for, for, for

My engine's ready to explode, explode, explode

So start me up and watch me go, go, go.

Get you where you want to go if you know what I mean

Got a ride that's smoother than a limousine

Can you handle the curves?  Can you run all the lights?

If you can baby boy then we can go all night.

'Cause I'm 0 to 60 in 3.5

Baby, you got the keys

Now shut up and drive, drive, drive.

Reason #7,342 I love European football

The Dutch go up 4-1 in the 91st minute against (a much higher ranked) France.

Announcer (yelling): "It's a Dutch oven, and the French are toast!"

That is the best thing any sports announcer has ever said.  

Best. Sport. Ever.

Strawberry Shortcomings

Noooo!  This is what the terrible people who own Strawberry Shortcake are doing to her:

She is skinnier, freckle-less, and her hat now boasts a trendy bill.  The worst part?  She isn't even wearing an apron!  Blasphemy! Apparently, toy companies want to turn little girls into sassy bitches who constantly talk on their cell phones instead of playing with their adorable (and delicious-smelling) friendly cats.  Where has all the cuteness gone?  

Just keep your hands off Rainbow Brite!