Internships: The New Jobs

Many of us have just graduated from college with the prospect of entering the workforce, only to find that the only positions available in the fields that we want are internships. After 32 internships, perhaps you will find an entry level position with a small firm or business, but there is not guarantee. I currently have 4 internship interviews, but I don’t think this is cute. Mama needs to makes them dolla bills, and she needs to make ’em now.

I have made the wise decision to move to New York City, one of the most expensive cities known to man. What makes things even better is that I am moving there from Missouri, where my current wages will qualify me as a derelict in NYC. I have been working all summer, making a relatively pleasant salary for someone my age, but after 3 months of working in St. Louis, I will have enough to pay for a spot in a parking garage in Hoboken. I’ll just pitch a tent and call it a day.

If I could find a job, things would be fine. A salary in New York is obviously higher than one in St. Louis, so I’d probably be able to find a decent apartment in an only mildly dangerous area. However, as mentioned before, my experience makes me the perfect intern, and I don’t know if you’ve heard, but interns get paid little to nothing. If I see stipend, I apply immediately, hoping that the extra dollars will afford me dinner of select nights, or basic toilletries. Any other forms of compensation are just icing on the cake. Travel reimbursement? I’m in. Lunch? Sign me up! Someone could throw in tooth paste, I’d be all about it. I like the companies that say the interns get to go to events and parties. According to my calculations, “events” and “parties” are code for snacks, and “snacks” is code for dinner. I hope to be attending a lot of events and/or parties in whatever internship I so desperately find myself in.

One good thing about being an intern is that it sounds youthful. How many 40 year-old interns do you know? None, I hope, and if you domonica know one, I apologize if I’ve offended that person, but that’s really weird. Yes, the term “intern” ignites images of college students, new graduates or Monica Lewinsky. I’m ok with any of these associations.

Of course, as an intern, I will have to accept a second job to pay rent, which will likely be something like hostessing or drug dealing, until I enter my career field after 3 years of unpaid internships. I’ll likely become accustomed to my new life of crime, and all of those hours spent editing articles and making copies will have been for naught. Anybody who’s anybody knows that crime pays better than writing, so I will exchange my literary dreams for gold chains, change my name and laugh as I see stupid twenty-somethings walking the streets in their trendy flats, on their way to internships that will earn them “experience.”


I Want to be in Picture Shows

I think I ought to be an actress, because I often find myself wanting to do things that are only acceptable in movies.

For some reason, I would love nothing more than to be at a crowded bar and have a man hassle me. “Hey, sugar lips!” he might say (the term ‘sugar lips’ is never used in real live, thus indicating the fictional scene. In actuality, the terms “Babygirl” or “Shawty” are much more likely to be used). I would ignore the brawny fellow for a while, but eventually he would cross the line, putting his hands on me. I’d slowly turn my head and said, “Don’t you ever touch me,” but that would only provoke him to put his other hand on me. At that point I will have had enough and proceed to crack my Bud Select bottle over his head. The bar would go silent, people would gasp and the music might even stop, with an abrupt “reeeerrr” of a record (because this bar would have an authentic DJ). “Who wants a piece o’ me?????!!!!” I’d shout, wild eyed, holding what was left of my jagged glass bottle above my head. “Who????!!!!!!” The crowd would slowly back away, as one of my attractive male friends (who would later become my lover) put his hands on my shoulders and calmed me down. Slowly, but surely, the bar would return to normal, and before anbar fightyone knew it, we’d all have moved on to the next scenes of our lives.

If I crack a bottle over someone’s head during Happy Hour at the local Applebee’s, for example, I would be politely asked to leave the bar by the hostess. It would be embarassing and uncalled for, as I am rarely provoked to the point of causing permanent physical violence. But that is not why I’d like to do it. I don’t really want to hurt anyone. I just want to say those words and hold that broken bottle like the diva that I dream I’ll one day be. I just want to do that without looking crazy, and the only way is if I’m in a movie.

I can’t just walk around saying things like “Not on my watch,” and “Tell it to the judge,” but they’re always on the tip of my tongue. If I’m not in a movie soon, I’m just going to slip up one day and really confuse a sales clerk at Macy’s or one of my students at camp. They won’t realize that I’m actually trying to save the life of my crack addicted baby sister, or attempting to put my husband’s murderer behind bars for good. I’ll just be the dramatic girl who keeps using innappropriate phrases and frightening young children. So I’ve gotta do this. I’ve gotta make it big.

The only problem is, I have very little training and no desire to actually “act” beyond those single lines.  I mean, I took  an acting class at the J when I was 7, but I was unable to perform in our production of Taming of the Shrewm, due to a traumatic asthma attack. My thespian career was tragically cut short, due to an unfortunate and life-threatening illness, but I can’t let that stop me forever! I’ve got to get back out there. I’ve got to put my heart and soul into this, until I see my name in lights. Until Lauren Morrow Timberlake starring in Dreamgirls sparkles on a marquee. Until I can crack a bottle over a grown man’s head without being thrown out of my neighborhood Bar & Grill.

What’s Her Age Again?

kidsmokingIt seems that many people who neithr have children nor work with them find it nearly impossible to determine a child’s age. Put a 3 year old in front of Andy, and he might offer him a glass of wine. Cassie might offer a Dr. Seuss book to a middle school student. As my summers consist of me being surrounded by obnoxious children of all ages, I can offer some insight into figuring out the general age of the child(ren) in question.

1. Walking: Is the child stumbling, appearing to be drunk? If so, he is likely between 18 months and 2 years. Is said child as tall as you are? He is 14+, and you should call his parents immediately.

2. Dress: A very small child dressed in adorable clothing with accessories (bows, cute baseball caps, etc) is 2 or under. If the child’s clothes (and/or face) are covered in sticky seeming substances, she is between 2 and 5. A child clad in mix matched clothes is between 6 and 10. If the child is dressed like a slut, she is 12 or 13 (if the slutty clothes are kind of cute, she is 16+).

3. Speech: If the child cannot speak, he is a baby (Some babies learn to speak before they can walk. This is creepy, and you should avoid these demon children at all costs). If he mumbles incoherent sounds, every once in a while dropping in an actual word, he is between 2 and 3. If everything he says is cute, he is 5-6. If the child will not stop speaking, he is 6-10. If the child will not stop using out of date slang terms, he is 9-12. If he makes an effort to curse, he is 13. A 13+ kid will be using current slang terms and dropping curses with ease. If you kind of want to keep talking to the kid, he’s 16+.

4. Eating: A baby will put anything you put in its face. 2-5 year olds can be found eating Goldfish and graham crackers, and remnants of those items can be found on various spots throughout their hair, face and clothing. Children between 5 and 10 will eat nothing but chicken fingers/nuggets, PB&J and some variety of a fried potato (those above 8 will dable in pastas). Kids above 12 will pretend to like sushi, and those above 14 will pretend to be vegetarians.

5. Reasons they are annoying: Babies are annoying because they are always crying, but all anyone ever does is feed them and rock them to sleep. Also, if you tell them something funny, they never get it. 2-5 year olds are annoying, because they cannot put on their shoes by themselves, but love taking them off. They also do not understand words. 6-8 year olds are annoying, because they are too big to be cute, but too young to talk to like a real person. They think they are funny, but don’t be fooled, they are only funny looking. 8-11 year olds are annoying, because they are mean and love Lady Gaga. 12-15 year olds are annoying, because they think they are cool, either because they know all the words to showtunes or because they are athletically inclined. In either case, no one cares. Sit down. 16+ kids are annoying, because they, like the younger teens think they are cool, but they sometimes are cool, and I don’t like that. Also, they can drive, and they generally get in my way.

This information does not, of course, apply to all children, but you should definitely take it as law the next time a child approaches you (like a reverse “stranger” scenario). Like a regular “stranger” scenario, if a child under 12 approaches you without a parent, you should say ‘no’ and walk away.

How to Lose a Pound in 10 Days

1. The first step is to admit you don’t have a problem. You’re not fat fat, you’ve just lost a bit of your muscle tone since you stopped dancing/rediscovered cream cheese/quit going to the gym when it stopped being free/broke your ankle and hat to quit soccer/your boyfriend broke up with you for getting fat, or whatever your personal situation might be. You only need to lose a pound or two. If you were really fat you wouldn’t be reading this right now. You’d be eating Ben&Jerry’s from the pint while googling liposuction. So, good for you!

2. Step on the scale. I know it sounds cruel and unusual, but it’s necessary in knowing whether or not you actually lose weight. If you want, you can subtract 10 lbs. from the number you see, that way you’ll be really proud of yourself after 10 days (you may actually be getting a little too thin!).

3. Replace any desserts you might want with dark chocolate. Make yourself eat it EVERY DAY. The flavor is intense, and a little bit goes a long way. It is good for you and will make you happy (unless you don’t like dark chocolate, in which place you may be completely helpless).

4. Take the stairs. It’s a free workout, and you’ll get there quicker anyway, because it always take the elevator like 3 minutes anyway (what’s the deal with that?).

5. Drink coffee or tea. Either of these hot beverages goes well with the dark chocolate, and they fill you up, so you’ll want to eat less. Also, they keep things moving.

10 days6. It doesn’t matter what you do (run, pilates, dance, step out of your STL home), just sweat it out every day. You’ll feel accomplished and be able to prove to people that you actually did something. They’ll be so impressed, you’ll want to do it again!

7. Stop eating mixed nuts and/or peanut butter. I know they have a lot of protein, but they are also loaded with fat and calories, and you can’t control yourself once that jar is open, so just chill out.

8. Watch what you drink. Try a Bud Select instead of a Long Island iced tea. You’ll save about 600 calories and $4. We’re in a recession, you know.

9. Switch out white, starchy products for whole grains. Although white bread deceivingly has fewer calories, whole grains are chock full ‘o fiber. If you pair a bowl of Bran Flakes with a cup of tea, you could drop about 5 lbs. in 20 minutes, if you know what I mean.

10. Replace juices and sodas with water. You’ll save tons of empty calories, and you’ll be hydrated and energized, so that you can dominate those stairs.

Congratulations! It’s 10 days later, and I bet you’ve lost at least a pound. You look great, and you didn’t even have to pull a Lohan ’07! And if you notice that someone has lost more weight than you, simply accuse her of drug use and enjoy a delicious piece of chocolate right in her face.