Blame it on the ec-ec-ec-ec Economy...

Generation Y (that’s us) was taught at a young age that you were to graduate from high school then proceed on to higher education. This is the conventional route in pursuit of receiving a distinguished piece of paper. This eminent certificate is the golden ticket into the professional world filled with opportunity. Well, so we thought... Not only does this piece of paper cost you four plus years of your life, but hundreds of thousands of dollars. Mind you, through loans, grants, your parent’s pockets and minimum wage jobs it is possible to one day be able to reach the stage and shake the hand of the person you’re giving your money to. Nonetheless, it is still ridiculous to pay this exorbitant amount for processed wood fibers. Yes, you have gained an education, life experience and extra time before you have to become an “adult”, but all of that could have been done without attending a formal institution, right? Of course not! This is the proverbial yellow brick road leading to the American dream of financial security, a home, a spouse, 2.5 kids and a dog. Well that is after you payback your debt on top of bonus interest. Ultimately though, this is a solid plan with an infallible checklist: High School- Check, College- Check, Job-? Wait a minute, job question mark? After all the blood, sweat and tears to obtain a degree, you get nothing? What? You are left defeated, jobless and broke. Where did you go wrong?

You can blame yourself all you want, but really that is not going to do any good because it’s not your fault. Apparently, the economy missed the memo about the order of operations. As soon as we graduated college it decided to plunge into a recession. Typical, the system failed us. We were under the impression that everything would work out accordingly if we just followed the plan! Graduating from a University is supposed to be an amazing accomplishment with an ending reward of a well paying job. Lies, all lies and completely erroneous. Those people who you believed to be your “connection” to the professional world decided to changed their contact information including; work phone, cell phone, e-mail, they even blocked you on Facebook! And all those tedious unpaid internships that you thought would be your gateway “in” or, you at least thought they would make your resume look better, failed you as well. Then you fall back onto plan B. The times have changed and people no longer search for employment through newspapers or by inquiring within about help wanted signs. The infamous Craigslist.org is now the element between your ends to a means.

You could literally spend hours searching through post after post of jobs all over the US. And believe it or not, there are diamonds in the rough. I know some people who have actually landed their dream job through an undisclosed listing. This does not mean that you should throw caution to the wind, there still are predators waiting to make their move. You just have to think optimistically. Although, if something sketchy like that were to happen, hopefully Chris Hansen would jump out of a closet and scare the bastard away.

Other than the weirdo’s who post on Craigslist there is another problem with using the website to search for jobs. The problem is that EVERYONE and their mothers are using it too. It’s so accessible and has gained a tremendous amount of popularity over the course of its existence. For every decent job listed on the day that you have applied to, there are over 300 other people who have applied for the same one and probably at the same time. Not to mention that over the course of the week more people will continue to send their resumes to it as well. Craigslist has turned into another rat race that you have grown accustom to. All due to the false promises made by the system.

In the grand scheme of things this is only a minor bump in the road. If you look at history, eventually, the economy will get better and the job market will pick up again. When that happens you can look at your diploma with a smile and thank it for still carrying its credibility… Well, hopefully. ;)

First Date

It started with butterflies. The moment your eyes met the fluttering merriment danced in the pit your stomach. Your knees were like jelly; if it weren’t for your perseverant effort to maintain composure your ass would have surely hit the floor. His proposal of the most dumbfounding and exhilarating question shocked you. As only someone you just met and are extremely attracted to could do. Friday night was suggested as the reserved date. Perfect! No plans (weird). You quickly marked it in your blackberry (as if you would forget) and said “See ya then!” All of this taking place while your posse of girlfriends patiently waiting to hear details. On the ride home you meticulously review your conversation, pin pointing the articulation and structure of each sentence. Your friend’s verdict is that you played it cool. Even if you did say “See ya then!” A minor infraction to the rules of flirting, never sound too excited. Your scheduled rendezvous could be the beginning of something special.

Friday. The weekend has finally arrived after an antagonizing couple of days. The nervous anticipation of what is to come controls your every move. Your imagination runs wild with visionaries of the two of you frolicking into the sunset hand in hand. This could be it, the one! Daddy always said that your prince, a Knight in shinning armor, would appear at your doorstep on his white horse for you. Magically today could be the day that your fairy tale comes true. The evil spell of a lifetime of bad dates and immature men that unfortunately was cast upon you could be broken! Until reality hits…

So maybe Prince charming left the armor at home and showed up wearing designer jeans and a long sleeve button up. And maybe the white horse he was supposed to be riding was disguised as a white F150. Nice! Screw the fairy tale this is way better! From your window you watch as he approaches your front door and naturally your butterflies start again. His greetings are pleasant as you walk to his gorgeous lifted truck. You can tell he is nervous too by the way he looks at you in your newly purchased outfit from Forever 21. He would never expect that it was only $28.98. His hand slightly shakes as he opens the car door for you. Not only are you in awe of his chiseled bone structure and baby blue eyes, not to mention the Ford and fashion sense too, but what a gentleman! He must have sisters.

On the drive to your undisclosed location curiosity overflows your mind. A traditional dinner and a movie would have sufficed for your first date; but you already passed the theatres and are headed for the freeway. You start to get nervous, praying that he isn’t a serial murderer taking you to some remote place. That thought promptly advises you to cut down your CSI intake. The car ride small talk consists of likes, dislikes, people whom you both know and high school activities you were involved in. You realize that it really does not matter where you two going, you could talk to this guy all night. The more you learn about him the more you fall head over heels for him.

The GPS system tells you that you are only .3 miles from arriving at your final destination. You pull into the parking lot of “Fun Mountain”. The adolescence that your professional workingwoman persona tries to hide is ecstatic. How did he know you loved family fun-centers filled with Miniature Golf, Go-Carts, Bumper Boats and best of all Laser Tag? By this decision alone he scored major points in your book. You try out the mini golf first. The attraction between the two of you is undeniable. After a few missed holes he offers to help you putt. Damn he noticed you sucked too! Innocently, he put his arms around you and gently touched your hands and guided you through the motion of swinging the golf club. Hole in one! He must be good luck. Just like little kids you ran around the place laughing in search of the next activity. Your request for laser tag was granted. Before entering the battlefield you both sized up your opponents. Six twelve year olds on a birthday with two of their adult chaperons and another couple who didn’t look like they were having as much fun as you two. It was on! By the end of the game you found your Prince sitting on the floor with one of the birthday kids shooting him in the back of his target vest. All the excitement had worn him out. You both decided it was time to leave.

The ride home from the date was the most nerve wrecking. Perspiration begins to appear in the most unwanted places, the damn butterflies are furiously flying now and you can no longer feel your legs. All of this is due to the very thought of how he is going to say goodbye. Will there be a kiss or not? Your not one of those girls who religiously abides by the aged rule of not kissing on the first date. If the timing is right then it is meant to be.

He walks you up to the door, at a slow easing pace. You could tell that he had been practicing his lines since the last few miles before your exit because he started to stare off into space. He tells you how much fun he had and how “super cool” he thinks you. Then he books the next date! The attraction was mutual and this perfect evening hadn’t been something you made up. Compared to the last guy you dated who thought inviting you to his Fraternity party was romantic, this guy was Rico Suave. And just as you were imagining the future he leaned in and gave you a tender kiss on the lips, thanked you for a great evening and said he would call. Ten minutes later he texted you “Goodnight, sweet dreams”.

Who says fairy tales can’t come true?

Lunch

The best part about the workday is that little window of opportunity where we are reserved a certain amount of time to break. This “break” that I speak of is most commonly referred to as lunch. The most glorious meal that falls in the middle of each and everyday! It’s provided for you to ensure you obtain daily nutrients, increase energy and maintain a healthy regimen. For some, it is your first source of substance for the day (besides your beloved coffee). In which case I choose lunch as the most important meal of the day! Doctors and dietitians say breakfast is most important because it jumps starts your metabolism and helps burn fat, blah, blah, blah. I say fooie to those people who went to Medical school, studied the body’s functions, nutrition and how it all works together. I champion lunch! Not only does lunch enhance your ability to function when the java buzz has worn off, it also allows you a release from the grind. Anything that the Department of Labor deems necessary in a productive work schedule must be vital.

Deciding what to consume during this period of relief from annoying customers, demanding bosses and slow Internet connection can be most frustrating. While your stomach is gargling with demands for provisions your head is flustered by countless selections. Your thoughts race through your mind in search of the perfect antidote to subside your twisted tummy. Quickly think, OPTIONS!:

• The family owned deli across the street. They have those freshly made subs that you crave so often. Although, the small Asian women who makes them freaks you out. She hides in the back for what seems like too long to make a sandwich. X-ray vision is the only thing that would prove to you that the utensils she uses are sanitary and that the rating of B (which is placed in the front window) should be upgraded.
  
• The Sushi place down the street. This craving for spicy tuna cut rolls and edemame is usually due to being on an exercise streak or raw fish just sounds too good to resist. Either way what kind of “healthy diet” that allows you to add extra sodium?
  
• The Crazy Chicken restaurant three miles away. That damn “el pollo loco” (that’s what you get for five years of Spanish) always makes you stop and consider it. “They” say it is the healthiest fast food offered, which is why you consider those three miles. Apparently though, everyone else received that memo too because the line is always out the door and around the corner.
  
• The small vegan place two blocks up. Yeah, about that…
  
• The smoothie joint right next door. You can smell the sweet scent of watermelon, strawberry and banana from your cubicle. You figure three thousand calories is not really that bad, well, if it is the only thing you eat for the day? You could also add a Parmesan pretzel to the mix, although, that might just push the limit.
  
• Lastly, the other dreaded Fast Food establishments on every single corner. You tend to save this choice for Friday. It’s the last day of the week; you’ve eaten pretty well throughout, so it’s a little treat you like to give yourself… Lets be honest, you love fast food Friday because it is the day after your “wine” night with the girls. It’s the only remedy that cures your lingering headache.

Your hunger is only suppressed by whatever “totally hits the spot” for that meal. But the joy that your “lunch break” itself gives you is indescribable. It does not matter if it is a burrito, salad or sandwich that takes you away from the nuisance of employment, because they all do the trick.

The Bottom Half

In the morning, there are about six main tasks you must complete before you dive into the waters of life. The first (and what I consider the hardest) would be the whole waking up part. The morning can be dreadful after a night out with unsolicited mixed liquids and monstrous blisters from dancing in last month’s paycheck, which you like to call your Michael Kors “Gotta Have’em Heels”. It is even excruciating to get up after vegging out on the couch with your oh so familiar friends Ben and Jerry while watching your other Friends; Ross, Rachel, Joey, Chandler and Monica on your season seven DVD. After you have conquered parting from your 800 count Egyptian cotton sheets and pillow top with memory foam mattress the rest is comparably painless.

The subsequent four steps are standard routine. You must urinate; this calls for no real explanation except for the fact that nature is calling. Next brush your teeth, possibly add in some floss and/or mouth wash in for extra minty freshness or to avoid a habitual scolding from your dentist. Fourthly, Shower. Now showering as a term can be used loosely. The outcome of this process is the result of time. If you have managed to allot yourself enough time to actually use the shower along with water, soap and luffa then more power to you. But on a scale of one to five there is about a forty percent chance that at least one or two times out of a five-day workweek you will take a dry shower. And if you’re thinking, “Oh, No she didn’t!” well yes I did. That’s right, instead of a warm, refreshing wet shower you choose to load up on the deodorant and perfume. Hey, it happens… Now the fifth step is subject for discrepancy as well. Applying make-up. Some women choose to wear it, some choose to opt out and some like to add to their salvaged make-up from the day(s) past. Whichever applies to you is fine with me. No judgment passed. Although, my guess would be that for the people who add to their leftovers the likelihood of them dry showering increases… a lot!

Lastly, the sixth and most stressful step is getting dressed. What you wear tells the world how you feel about yourself. It gives people insight to how you live your life. Stains may indicate that you are sloppy and don’t care, while clean pressed clothes show that you care about your appearance. It can even reveal what kind of hobbies you are into, what type of music you might listen to and even what kind of job you might have. You build your image through your ensemble by purchasing or making clothing that fit you both physically and spiritually. A day’s outfit can be a symbol and could eventually lead you to your next job opportunity or your next demise. If you pick something out that seems just a smidgen out of your realm it can undeniably ruin your day. Luckily, we have one particular piece that is universally admissible. A truly remarkable man made creation.

Jeans. They come in all sizes, colors and cuts. They cater to personal preference by offering a plethora of options so that you can determine what fits you best. They are perfect for any occasion. They can dress you up for your first hot date with the sexy stallion in advertising that you’ve been shamelessly flirting with for the past month. Or they can help you keep it casual while you overindulge in consumerism with your best girlfriends. The lower half of your body thanks you when you choose to wear them because for the next 18 hours you know that your day will be filled with comfort, confidence and compliments.

The best part about these beautifully woven pieces of raw textile is that everyone can wear them. They are undoubtedly androgynous. More and more men are wearing women’s and women are wearing men’s. These perfectly cut and sewn pieces of denim have been apart of so many special moments in our lives. They were there for you on your first day of school when fate walked in and introduced you to the person who would be your best friend for the next 5 decades, just because she wore the same pair. They were also there for you when you had your first kiss because Mr. Right (at the time) said he loved the way your pockets made your… best asset look. And they were also there for you when you went away to college and your freshman fifteen kicked in and they told you its ok, we stretch.

As women we have to thank the astounding progressive women of yesteryear for fighting for our right to wear this magical material. Historically women were only allowed to wear skirts and dresses to which they were left with only their hands to carry miscellaneous objects. Meanwhile men were able to prance around in the gold mines and on carrier vessels able to carry every tool they ever needed in their denim. But now we can grasp our independence by wearing any kind of jeans we like. Flares, skinny, bell-bottoms, boot cut, acid washed, black, hip huggers, bedazzled, and the list goes on. Not to mention the gorgeous brand names we can associate with our favorite kind. Special thanks to Fergie for singing about them.

Embrace this timeless icon and when you wake up tomorrow, early or late, shower or no shower. Throw on your favorite pair jeans for all mankind! No matter what, it’s going to be a good day.

Tip of the Nose

You know what I think is awesome? Looking like Rudolph the red freaking nose reindeer in August. I mean ladies you know what I am talking about. You can follow the procedure everyday, right? Wake up 1. Wash your face! 2. Exfoliate! And 3. Moisturize! Then repeat before bed. But somehow, some little twist of fate, a little friend may just as well pop up somewhere humiliating on your face! The next couple of days your biggest feat is NOT trying to finish your History paper and its NOT trying gather your notes for your works budget meeting. For the next three something days your biggest obstacle is hiding the red monster that is soaking up the spotlight that once shined on your perfectly clear face.

You have done nothing to deserve this. You pay your taxes, you always use your turn signals when changing lanes and you even donate clothes to charity. Well, when they don’t seem to fit you or your pathetic excuse for a closet. Obviously, you are not a saint, but do you really deserve this horrific blemish filled with a concoction of oil, sweat and dirt. Things that your parents told you boys were made of, not girls! It is definitely unfair to say they least.

What’s next you wonder? What can you use to deflect the light from this unwanted intruder? You go for reinforcements; concealer, powder… a mask. And you always have to ask yourself the ever so tempting question, “To pop or not to pop”? There is so much pressure caused due to this unsightly pour of disaster. It is exhausting!

Now on the contrary I personally do not practice such pious methods. I choose to break all codes of proper post teen/ young adult etiquette. Yes I do sleep with my makeup on. And yes I may only wash my face in the shower. Is that really so bad? Really? What is there to be ashamed of? Everyone has them, so why make all the fuss and spend so much money to cover them up? I say everyone should walk around proudly, with there heads held high and be able to say, “Yes, I do have a zit and frankly I don’t give a damn”.