During my freshman year of college, something really strange happened to me.
I was watching “The Notebook,” one of my favorite romance movies, with my Mama and we got to the scene where Noah reveals to Allie that he wrote her a letter every day for a year. You know the scene. The big reveal that he still loved Allie even after all those years passed. Normally, I’d be crying like a baby after that scene. What girl doesn’t want a man to sweep her off her feet like that?
Yet, the scene flashed before my emotionally vacant eyes. Not…
Sex isn’t the only thing that’s casual these days.
Welcome to the age of casual employment. (Cue Peter Townshend’s legendary yell at the end of “Won’t Get Fooled Again”.)
When I graduated from university, that marked my official entrance into the professional job market. As far as I was concerned, I didn’t need a fancy trophy or ribbon to celebrate being in the same pool of millions of other job seekers. I needed a job. End of story.
I would spend mornings applying to countless, faceless job postings in the usual areas: LinkedIn, Indeed, and company websites. Then I would…
I was writing at Starbucks a few weeks ago and overheard a snippet of a conversation between an octogenarian couple.
“Ryan’s wife left landscaping to go back to teacher’s college,” said the woman.
The man shook his head. “That’s strange because Penny was a good landscaper.”
The woman shrugged her shoulders and took a sip of her coffee. “She probably didn’t like it all that much.”
Nodding, the man said, “Well, they say, ‘Those who can, do; and those who can’t, teach.’”
I never did like that expression. It’s crass, ignorant, and, worst of all, arrogant. It discounts the level…
I remember the first time I felt the fire burning in me for rock ‘n’ roll. Like it was just yesterday.
My teacher called home because I came down with a fever at school. Both my parents were working at the time, so my older brother came to pick his kid sister up at school. I could hardly keep my eyes open while in the car. My older brother hit play on the music system in his car and “T.N.T.” from AC/DC’s 1976 album “High Voltage” reverberated my whole being.
I was a goner from the get-go. I’d never heard…
“As many languages you know, as many times you are a human being” (Kolik jazyků znáš, tolikrát jsi člověkem.) — Tomáš Garrigue Masaryk
I’ve been practicing speaking in French for several months in a meetup group that assembles together bi-monthly. You’ll never get asked so many questions about yourself than at one of these language groups — you might get lucky if a good date will ask you more questions.
We come with varying skill levels — some people can tell whole stories in French and others are happy to be able to put a sentence or two together.
I recently bumped into one of my brother’s friends in my hometown.
We chatted about our day jobs and how the work force is a different beast from college life, no doubt. We joked about the fact that we’re commuting in opposite directions from each other.
While my commute is pretty well a straight-shot, his is the monstrous one to the car-horn-blaring, fast-paced city of Toronto. His commute is a whopping two and a half hours. Just one-way.
He even recounted to me the gruesome tale of him having to sleepover at a co-worker’s house to avoid commuting.
“Wisely and slow. They stumble that run fast.”
-Friar Laurence, Romeo and Juliet, William Shakespeare
Last week, while driving, a friend of mine almost hit a pedestrian.
She was in a rush to finish her errands and cut off an adult son and his mother.
“I was on my way to a friend’s stag and doe,” she was saying to me, “and had to pick up a few things at the grocery store. I was at the lights before the grocery store and had to make a left turn into the parking lot. I noticed a man and his mom…
Commuters from across the San Francisco Peninsula all wait as a small herd for the blaring horn as the grey, red-striped Caltrain approaches in the distance. Some late commuters rush to tap their Clipper Cards as the train closes the gap between the herd of people. A few tech workers are tapping away quick corporate emails or lines of code before stowing away their laptops as the train arrives. The weather is one mode in the summer in the Bay Area: Sunny and 76°F. Some commuters get off already at Palo Alto, Mountain View, and Menlo Park. …
My brother once told me that the moment you move out from home and into your own place, it’s a tough life out there.
And that’s true.
Graduating from college should make it a little easier. In theory.
Though in practice, sometimes it breeds new problems you didn’t even know existed in high school.
While many college graduates fear unemployment after graduation in North America, instead, they should really be concerned about underemployment—accepting a job position that doesn’t require a college degree. In other words, you are overskilled for this type of work.
The first time I ever thought of myself as a woman was six years ago, in my last year of high school.
Before that time, I didn’t really see myself as a woman. I was a girl. Though my appearance started to say otherwise. I’ll spare you the details. We all know how puberty works.
Our family friends weren’t ignorant to the fact that I was maturing though. I remember one of our family friends, a kind and gentle man I must admit, said to me, “Liza, you look more like your Mom every day. How beautiful you are…