A Poser's Platform

It goes without saying that I'm not the only twenty-something that has an unfathomable amount of debt racked up in a bank note that's hiding somewhere beyond my levels of (now highly educated) comprehension. Is it even necessary to say that I'm fairly clueless as to what I want to do with my life now that I have a degree in something that I borderline despise? I do believe I should say that for a certain amount of time, and sometimes even now, it does feel like I'm the only one.

That's why I decided to start a blog about my encounters with the -quote- real world -end quote- now that college life is the kind of memory that PHI 117 taught me might just be a trick. A priori or a posteriori?

Here is my empircal knowledge (aka, this is what my silent post-college resume says):

Schoolin':

A regionally infamous private university has dubbed me worthy of my $200,000 diploma (or I should say that they handed me a branded portfolio and a letter that said they'd mail me the elusive diploma) that seems like it has already lived up its value even though I only earned it a month ago. When people read "B.S. in Advertising," they laugh.

Baggage:

• I've spent the past seven years convincing people, including and sometimes exclusively myself, into thinking that I really care about any of the following:

a) how many items go into the dressing room

b) whether or not the package is upgraded

c) where the lien paperwork gets filed if it's sent to a client of the client

d) how many bottles of shower gel are wrung up in the next hour or which cream will actually get rid of wrinkles

e) which article database is trustworthy

f) what aisle the spade shovels are in

g) that a job is more than just a job

• I'm broke. I'm broke minus a comfortable savings account.
• The thought of yet another summer in retail makes my heels ache and my head throb.
• My network connections from the past four years are minimal. Fantastic references, but useless when it comes to finding a job that's 1500 miles away from where the network started.
• My parents are broke and anti-social. Dead end.
• I live in my parents' hallway with the raw addition of a few slabs of graffitied sheetrock.
• Both of my parents, my 18 year old sister, and myself all share two vehicles.
• My to-be roommate is leaving her developed life in her hometown to come live with me across the country...in approximately 10 weeks.
• All of my relevant experience (three internships spanning from academic integrity research to editing to design) is somehow related to my University, and therefore, I have been informed, makes it seem as though I am not "serious" about entering said career.

Extracurriculars:

I moved to South Florida two weeks before I started college in central New York. My main social network consists of the recent high school graduates that are entertaining my younger sister for the month.

Awards:

• Dean's List
• Proudest Mom
• Most Contagious Laugh (9 years running)

Competencies:

-I know where a comma belongs and doesn't belong.

-My over-priced private education has taught me how to navigate the most advanced programs and operating systems that technology has to offer. Much to my demise, most places of business cannot afford such systems and currently run Windows 98 or the like, lacking any or all of the complex webs of pull downs and short-cuts and right clicks that I've mastered.

-I'm passionate about..... figuring out what I'm passionate about.

-I can type 80 wpm according to employment agency skills testing software.

*Excellent references available upon request.

For all the reasons listed above, and a month of cold-calling that has left me freezer-burned, I have decided to register with assorted employment agencies. This blog will follow my adventures as I explore and maneuver the professional world in the all-too-often-used excuse of a "bad economy."

Come back to read my weekly assessments of life as a struggling recent graduate: life as a temp, life as a freelancer, life as a slacker, and hopefully, eventually- life as a professional.