My Resume Will Thank Me For This

The other day I was minding my own business at work when two of the corporate managers called me outside. I was convinced that I would be fired. Instead, I was promoted to assistant manager.

Promoted? I started working here three months ago. My first thought was, "really?" and my second thought was, "my resume will thank me for this."

Now when people ask me what I'm doing with that prestigious degree of mine, at least I have some credibility. And, when I eventually apply for my next job, the subtext of my resume will now read something like "fell into a random job and received instant promotion because of insanely good work ethic and intelligence" as opposed to "another college grad that could have made something of herself but is instead paying the price for graduating in a bad economy with a useless major."

Ladies and Gents, I'm moving up in the world.

B.A. Blues

One of the things that I've learned to love about life is how it makes no sense. At all. Ever. For instance, I'm completely fascinated by the fact that everyone is hugely impressed by my degree from Berkeley. Everyone, that is, except the people I'm supposed to be impressing by having it.

In other words, everyone's mom/sister/grandma/teacher/aunt/uncle/trainer/friend is fascinated by my accomplishments. It usually looks something like, "you graduated? woooooowwwww, that's great, good for you!" Then comes the inevitable "so what are you doing now?" question, which I'll tackle in another blog post some other time. In the mean time, while everyone oohs and ahhs over my degree, I apply for unpaid writing internships and get turned down. Or just flat out ignored.  Too bad funemployment isn't a career option.

Would You Date Me?

Recently, I was chatting with a good friend over coffee when he presented me with this gem: "To be honest, I'm not sure if I would date me."

"I would date you!" I said immediately. "I would date me, too. I think."

We laughed and the conversation went on, but later, I started thinking...would I actually date myself?


My friend's statement originally came about while discussing those who had expressed that they hadn't wanted to date us in the past. We wanted to figure out what about us had turned them off. We're both well educated, funny, attractive, and caring people, so what is it about us that is so undesirable?

"Think about it," he said. "While we may be mature for our age, we're still in our twenties, living at home with our parents. We have dead-end jobs and we're not pursuing the careers we ultimately want in life. If I met me and heard all these things, I'd be like, 'yeah right, get back to me in five years when you've actually done it."

I'd like to think that if I'd give myself the benefit of the doubt if I was flirting with myself in a bar somewhere, but you never know. Have my standards for others exceeded the standards I have for myself ? It may be time for a life makeover. But wait, I already knew that.

What is Summa Cum Nada?

It is the acceptance of all things had, and lately, of all things lost. It is an explanation of the fast track to nowhere, an exploration of the meaning found in not-so-much, the experience of not knowing what's next, and the endurance to push through the nonsense.

I'm a recent graduate from the number one university in the country (go bears!) who graduated at the top of her class (Summa Cum Laude...get it now?) in a major that no one cares about (I studied people...seemed relevant at the time). After being thrown out into the wilderness, I moved home with my parents (hello, high school), attempted to get a "real" job (failure), and got dumped by my boyfriend of two and a half years (cat lady in the making). Now I'm a college grad with nowhere to go and nothing to do, using my four year degree from UC Berkeley to dust shelves, sit behind a computer, and work with children at a nearby fitness center. Needless to say, my life isn't quite what I thought it would be just a few months ago.

These are my challenges; this is my story.