Ramblings of a Work Dork

2 Replies

I was talking to my friend the other night, and we were saying that now, when we’re on the phone with our parents and they ask us what’s new, we probably sound like we’re being evasive, but we’re not– we just have nothing to talk about anymore. When we were in college, we had four to five classes, extracurriculars, part-time jobs, roommates, friends we saw pretty much every day, campus events, weekends in Boston…there was a lot to talk about.

Now? I go to work, I go home. No more classes, no more activities, and still no love life to speak of. I still have roommates, but only two, and they go to work/class and come home every day, too. I see my friends sometimes, but not nearly as much as I used to, and half the time I just come home on Fridays and collapse into bed–I’m twenty-two and already I’m turning into my dad.

So what’s left to talk about? Well…work, and you don’t really want to hear about that. I could tell you all about what makes our math books special and which schools have adopted them and why we’re better than our competitors, and I’m sure that would absolutely fascinate you. I could tell you about office politics. Or about lunchtime in the wintergarden at my office, with my fellow broke twenty-somethings, where, last Thursday, we literally spent five minutes talking about pickles. And thoroughly enjoyed it.

There was an episode of Gilmore Girls earlier this season where Rory calls her recently-graduated boyfriend a “work dork.” I think I kind of like that term better than “workaholic” (which I’m completely turning into– I stay late at work even when I don’t really have to).

My name is Katie, and I am a work dork.

Katie Recommends: Mika

Leave a reply

I don’t have a car, so I don’t really listen to the radio anymore. If I find out about new music nowadays, it’s usually via Internet. And the Internet is where I found Mika.

Mika is this British guy whose voice is kind of weird. It gets kind of high-pitched and almost squeaky in places, but somehow it works for the songs on his album Life in Cartoon Motion. He has fun, upbeat songs like “Grace Kelly” and “Lollipop”; more low-key, mellow songs like “Love Today” and “Relax Take It Easy,” and quieter, more serious songs like “My Interpretation” and “Any Other World.” But they’re all catchy and oddly addictive.

Check him out. Here’s his official site and here’s his myspace.

Music Snobs Need Not Apply

Leave a reply

Two things that happened last week: the Grammy Awards and Valentine’s Day. And this is how the combination of those two things led me to write this entry.

I actually almost forgot about Valentine’s Day—I was too busy thinking about the snow that day, and whether I’d have the day off from work, and whether my sister would make it to North Carolina for her swim meet. (She didn’t; she got stuck at Logan for twelve hours before her flight was cancelled and she had to take a train to DC and a bus to Chapel Hill.) And given the second word in my blog title, I had no reason to remember V-Day.

It’s easier being single on Valentine’s Day when you’re not in college and don’t have to see couples everywhere. But it got me thinking about some things with relationships.

I’ve never done online dating (although I’m not ruling it out for some point in the future), but I remember reading this article where the author talked about how being able to sort profiles by the characteristics you want in a partner has influenced people’s choosiness even in dating situations that begin in the 3-D world. She mentioned a friend whose date completely wrote him off upon finding out that he had a roommate. And while it’s good to be picky, casting a guy aside for something like that is ridiculous. There’s no formula for the perfect guy. Sometimes people who seem completely different end up forming long and happy relationships. I think really sometimes all it takes are one or two important, essential things that you have in common to make a relationship work.

Now, I definitely have standards and ideal qualities that I look for. When it comes to intangibles, the guy I end up with has to be kind, patient, happy, a good listener, and a good friend. Ideally, he loves his family, is good with kids, has a beautiful smile, reads a lot, and can sing. And hopefully we agree on politics, religion, and baseball.

But what about the deal-breakers? Most of the things I want in a guy are things that I could, conceivably, live without. But there are a few things on which I’m absolutely inflexible.

I won’t date a guy who smokes, period. I won’t date a guy who does drugs, even pot. I won’t date an alcoholic. I won’t date anyone with any kind of mental issues he hasn’t worked through (which may sound harsh, but I’ve seen firsthand that people who haven’t gotten their shit together are in no way ready for relationships). If he’s a Yankee fan, he better be absolutely perfect in every other way (kidding…I think).

And one more thing. I absolutely refuse to date a music snob.

I’m serious. Music snobs piss me off beyond all reason. I cannot stand people who get self-righteous about their taste in music—which, unfortunately, is true of a lot of people.

I don’t know why it’s just music. People don’t usually think less of you if you watch stupid reality shows or cheesy horror movies. But if you listen to popular music, or anything that doesn’t fit into a music snob’s narrow window of what’s acceptable, there are people who will actually judge you as a person.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I do understand the concept of guilty pleasures. Have you seen the favorite music listed under my blogger profile? I’m well aware that much of it is uncool, like most things about me. But there’s a big difference between good-natured teasing about someone’s musical tastes and actually looking down on someone for that reason.

I’ve been thinking a lot about what separates music snobs from the rest of us, and this is what I came up with. First of all, for the most part, music snobs hate anything popular. If it’s on the radio, it’s crap. If it’s in the top 40, they won’t touch it with the giant poking device from Friends. And if it’s making money, well, God forbid.

Now, to some extent, I can understand this. I don’t like a lot of the music currently dominating the charts, and it’s true that much of pop music is overproduced and overplayed (although if I like a song, I like it no matter how many times I hear it). But popular does not equal evil. The amazing thing is that a lot of times, if an obscure band becomes popular, music snobs will abandon it. That makes absolutely no sense to me. Shouldn’t they be happy that people are listening to music they like? But they’re usually not. They’re upset that the stupid masses are ruining their favorite band, and that the band will become uncool by association, which is such crap. I think that music snobs really revel in being contrary. They’re like people who purposely don’t root for the home team for no reason other than being different.

Another thing about music snobs is that they’re excessively concerned with genre. “Oh, Band A are such posers. They’re so not punk.” “Band B is not indie! Stop calling them that!” Ugh.

Genres have always confused me, particularly genres of rock. I took a quiz once called “What Genre of Rock Are You?” and honestly, I don’t get what distinguishes one genre from another. Why does it even matter? I know that it’s human nature to categorize, but when I listen to a song, I don’t analyze it to death or try to figure out what category to put it in. All I think about is whether I liked the song or not.

Actually, maybe this is my whole issue with music snobs to begin with. I don’t really analyze music—I just think about whether or not I liked it. With a movie or a book, I can usually tell you exactly what I like or don’t like about it. With a song, sometimes I can tell you what it is about it that appeals or doesn’t appeal to me, but more often than not, I can’t. I like it or I don’t. And maybe that’s why it doesn’t make sense to me that some people are so dead-set on what’s good music and what’s not. I often can’t explain why a certain song appeals to me, so it offends me when someone tells me that it shouldn’t.

Finally, music snobs take their opinions as gospel. “So-and-so is the best bassist of all time. Everyone knows that.” “Band X is crap and Band Y are gods.” And they make a big deal over who “started” such and such a music trend. They’re like preschoolers whining, “He started it!” They get all wrapped up in how Band A influenced Band B. Aside from the fact that Band B may very well have improved what Band A started, who really cares? Similarly, who cares who writes the music as long as you like it? I really don’t see how who wrote the music is relevant. Even a lot of artists who write their own music don’t draw from real life, so I don’t get that argument.

The truth is that music snobs are like the popular girls in sixth grade who, if they didn’t like my outfit, would say, “Katie, why are you wearing that?” That may sound a little harsh, but I think it’s true.

The ironic thing about music snobs is that they want you to believe that they love music. But loving music doesn’t, in my opinion, mean constantly insulting it. It means being open to all types of music. It means being open to the ideas that happy, poppy songs can put you in a good mood even if they don’t make you think, that sappy ballads can genuinely move you, and that even if you don’t agree with it, there is a reason why popular music is popular.

I don’t understand why people get so caught up in hating music. There’s too much good music to harp on what you don’t like. Have you seen all the music pages on Myspace? There’s a ton of music out there, and most of it is worth at least one listen. Music snobs can think what they want, but I’ll go on listening to what I like. Because despite what anyone else may think, I do love music.

Or at least, I think I do. And if you think otherwise, go find another date.

Atalantas- aka, Most of Us

Leave a reply

Last week I stumbled across this article. For those of you too lazy to click on the link, I’ll mention some highlights:

“JWT, the largest advertising agency in the U.S. and the fourth largest in the world, has named the top 25 women it defines as Atalantas.

Atalantas, a consumer group newly identified by JWT, are young women who embrace their independence: They are confident, passionate, adventuresome and unwilling to settle for anything less than the best. They neither conform to negative stereotypes of single women (cold, lonely or sad) nor do they pursue the excesses of less discriminating peers like Britney Spears and Paris Hilton.

These women represent a growing segment of the young female demographic, notes Marian Salzman, executive vice president, chief marketing officer of JWT Worldwide.”

Um … “newly identified?” “Growing segment?” So advertising agencies are just beginning to notice at least 75% of all women?

Now, the whole concept of an “Atalanta” is kind of cool. Atalanta was a mythological figure who was abandoned in the forest because her father wanted a son and was raised by hunters and a bear. She was also a very fast runner, and would only marry a man who could outrun her. When she finally did meet a man she wanted to marry, he beat her in a race with some help from Aphrodite, which she was totally okay with. But not after all the other suitors were executed for failing to beat her.

So basically, Atlanta was strong and independent and wouldn’t settle—qualities any girl would want. And qualities that most of the girls I know have.

Now, I am by no means a hard-core feminist, but really. It just floors me that ad agencies are just realizing that, gasp! Not all women are Bridget Jones or Paris Hilton! Some of us don’t just sit around pining over guys—we go out and have lives. And “having a life” doesn’t mean partying all the time. It means having a career, friends, and interests. It means wanting a man in your life but not obsessing over it. It means having fun without being a drunk slut.

Women have made a huge amount of progress in a very short amount of time. Fifty years ago, many women only went to college to get their MRS degree. Now there are more women in college than men. Domestic violence is generally recognized as unforgivable and unacceptable. And the majority of high school valedictorians are girls.

And yet women continue to be stereotyped in the media. If they’re not flighty Bridget Jones-types, they’re ice queen career women or manipulative vixens.

And moreover, they can never have it all. Men can have a great career and a loving family and friends and hobbies, but women always have to give something up. Recently, I was complaining to my friends about the movie Freedom Writers. I did like the movie, but just once, I would like to see a movie where a woman accomplishes something huge with her significant male standing by her and supporting her all the way. Now, granted, Freedom Writers is based on a true story, so there was probably no way of getting around it, but I know that if it was a story about a man, he’d have a loving wife supporting him all the way. I feel like half the nominations for Best Supporting Actress in any given year are “wife of” characters.

It’s kind of funny that they felt the need to name 25 celebrities to define “Atalanta.” While people like Julia Stiles, Alexis Bledel, and Rachel Bilson are all very cool, you don’t need to come up with a list of celebrities to define this term. “Atalanta” could describe almost every woman I know. And even though it’s stupid that advertisers haven’t noticed this segment of the population before now, being an Atalanta is something to be proud of.

For Once, I’m Glad I Take the T

Leave a reply

Oh my God. The rest of the country must be laughing their asses off at us.

I was at work all day, though, and honestly, I was pretty oblivious to the whole thing. I found out about it around 4:00 because my mom called me, before they knew that all this was caused by a frickin cartoon.

But apparently traffic was a nightmare, even more so than usual. I think they did briefly shut down part of the Red Line, but that didn’t affect me.

A couple of weeks ago, it was a Friday and I wasn’t feeling well and just wanted to go home at the end of the day. I left work at 5:15. At quarter of six I finally got on a train. Why? Because eight trains went by before there was a B Line train. Eight.

“You should complain to the MBTA,” said my mom when I told her about it.

“Uh, that’s like complaining to Bush that you don’t like the war,” said my dad, correctly.

But today, my commute was entirely issue-free, unless you count me not getting a seat for a long time. For once, the T came through for me.

My (Belated) Love Affair With Sex and the City

Leave a reply

For the longest time, I couldn’t stand Sex and the City, the show from which I took the quote at the top of my blog. I didn’t think it was that funny, and I though Carrie was annoying. But last summer, all of a sudden I got into it. I think I just reached a certain point in my life where I’d heard enough hookup and relationship stories that I could see people I knew in the show, and I could find it funny.

And I could see why so many other girls are into it. It’s kind of like the show for women of my generation. And why not? I know that for years, women have had to struggle against the idea of existing only to find a man, which is what this show was all about. But the truth is, women really do sit around discussing their love lives. We have careers, we have dreams, we have independence—but we still love to talk about guys. We analyze guys’ behavior, we discuss the pros and cons of different men, we debate what constitutes a deal-breaker. Some women might see it as sexist or stereotypical, but honestly, I think it’s just accurate.

It’s interesting, though, that this is the show that spawned He’s Just Not That Into You (aka my relationship BIBLE), because although that philosophy found its way into one episode, if the girls had followed the advice of Greg Behrendt, there’d be no show. Mr. Big would have been history after the first episode.

Mr. Big is also one reason why Carrie is my least favorite character. I’ve seen every episode now, and I absolutely cannot stand Big. I think he’s an arrogant, inconsiderate jackass—not to mention completely unattractive. I loved Aidan, though—he was a sweetheart who put up with way too much shit from Carrie, whom I completely lost respect for when she cheated on Aidan with Big.

But the thing is—that is realistic. There are, unfortunately, too many Carrie Bradshaws in the world, women who have an idea of what they want but don’t like it when they finally get it. Women who chase after what they can’t have when they have something great right in front of them. Women who aren’t happy in a relationship unless there’s drama, and worry when there isn’t drama. I know people like that. So do you. And I’d like to think that I would never act like that…but in reality, I can’t say for sure.

The interesting thing about Sex and the City is that we see it as both a reality and a fantasy. Over 94 episodes, four women engaged in about every relationship, dating, and sexual situation that exists. There’s no way you couldn’t see yourself or one of your friends in at least one of those situations. Plus, girls who watch the show tend to compare themselves to the four main women. I used to think I was a Charlotte, but now I think Miranda. And I definitely have friends who remind me of Carrie, Samantha, and Charlotte.

But how many of us have luxury apartments in Manhattan and clothes right off the runway? How many of us have jobs like Carrie’s that only require one column a week, leaving us free to walk around the city all day? How many of us manage to go out with our friends every weekend? How many of us have the chance to meet the sheer number of guys on the show, let alone date them? Every time I watch this show, I want to be a rich New Yorker, and I suspect I’m not the only one.

But it’s a fantasy in other ways, too. Take, for instance, Samantha, who, according to Carrie, “had the kind of deluded self-confidence that caused men like Ross Perot to run for president, and it usually got her what she wanted.” In nearly every episode, Samantha sees a man she’s never met, decides she wants him, and goes after him, almost always successfully. We’ve all wanted to be in that situation, but how many of us actually have the self-confidence to do it?

We see ourselves in the Sex and the City characters, but we also see what we wish we could be. We see the lifestyle we dream about having but probably never will. And even though in reality, he’s probably just not that into us, we still hold onto that hope that in the end, we’ll ask him to come up, and he’ll smile, and his answer will ring in our ears forever: “Abso-fuckin’-lutely.”

Platelet Donation

Leave a reply

Okay, I don’t usually do this, because I don’t like to sound self-righteous or condescending. But just this once, I am going to step up onto my soapbox and write about an Issue. I figure, I spend enough time detailing my quarter-life crisis and babbling about TV shows, so I might as well write about something that matters.

All right then. So: we know donating blood is a good thing. Most schools have a couple of blood drives every year, and so do a lot of companies. By donating a pint of your blood, you could save three lives. Blah blah blah fishcakes, I’m sure you’ve heard it before.

But until last September, I had never really thought about platelet donation. People with certain types of cancer need to receive platelets, which help stop bruising and bleeding. People who have had major surgery sometimes need platelets, too.

But here’s the thing: platelets only have a shelf life of five days. So donors are constantly needed—they can’t just use platelets someone donated a long time ago.

It’s different from donating blood. For one thing, you can do whatever you planned on doing that day—after donating blood, you’re usually pretty tired. Also, the process takes longer, usually an hour and a half to two hours. They hook you up to this machine that separates the platelets from the rest of your blood, then returns your blood to you.

But here’s the thing: it’s actually kind of fun. Yes, you read that right. Donating platelets is fun. The thing is, it’s not like donating blood, where you’re lying flat on your back on a table. During platelet donation, you’re propped up in this big, comfortable chair, and you can watch TV or a movie, listen to your iPod, read a book or a magazine…whatever you want to do that you can do sitting down. And they’re really nice to you while it’s going on. They’ll give you snacks and sodas, and if you get cold, they’ll get you a blanket.

So let’s review. This can give you the chance to watch a movie you’ve been meaning to see, finish your book, or listen to the new CD you just put on your iPod. After you do it, you can do whatever you planned on doing that night. And did I mention it saves lives? I mean, there are plenty of great ways to volunteer, but this can literally save someone’s life. And considering that one out of three Americans will have cancer at some point in their lives, it might be a favor you’ll need returned at some point.

If you live in New England, you can find a donation center close to you here, and if not, you can find one on the Red Cross web site.

Okay. Getting off the soapbox now. But not before I tell you to go donate platelets.

How YOU Doin’?

Leave a reply

At my gym, I saw a sign today saying that there’s a new massage therapist named Matt LeBlanc.

Hmm. A massage from Joey Tribbiani. Maybe Phoebe gave him lessons.

In other news, I am getting New York magazine sent to me at my parents’ house. I have absolutely no idea why. I mean, I’m not complaining, but I seriously have no clue what mailing list I could have gotten on that would send me it.

Also, one of my company’s textbooks was on The Daily Show. It was in this segment about arming teachers with guns, and then it went into this part about using textbooks as weapons. A bunch of us went into a room to watch it.

What I Did on My Lunch Break Today

Leave a reply

You know what’s cool about working in the Back Bay?

You can swing by the gubernatorial inauguration on your lunch break.

I haven’t been voting very long, but my vote for Deval Patrick was the first time I ever really voted for someone, rather than against someone else. So even though I could neither stay very long nor see very well, I was very happy to be part of this historic occasion.