Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Post-grad delusions

The spring semester is nearing an end just like all the semesters past. Graduation and a stumbling into what I adoringly call “real life” will precede this year’s summer break.

While I’m still in joyous disbelief that it’s actually happening, my nerves are only exacerbated by reality.

Why this economy? Why this year?

Despite having a serious case of senioritis, I’m attempting to catch amnesia so I can hurry up and forget about how I used to have hopes and dreams of finding a job directly out of college, but it’s not working.

To make matters worse, the national unemployment rate rose to 8.5 percent in March while California clocks in at 10.5 percent.

I try and psyche myself up for it. After all, who doesn’t like a challenge? I have also tried new words on for size like “hireability.” The phrases part-time and “for-credit internships” are all of a sudden becoming more attractive each day. I suppose I should stop whining.

It’s not all doom and gloom. There are a few recession-proof jobs: Most just happen to deal with numbers and usually have the word “analyst” somewhere in the title. I just can’t fool myself into thinking that a bachelor’s in journalism somehow makes me qualified for a position as a network systems and data communications analyst.

There are a few entrepreneurial jobs that have caught my eye. Some could actually generate some dough.

1. Sell the future: The only thing better than capitalizing on one person’s fear and insecurity is to capitalize on that fear and insecurity for $3.99 a minute. Becoming a psychic reader is almost too easy. And, unlike a Ponzi scheme, there is no need to set up offshore bank accounts or lie to investors about making a 50 percent return on investments.

People like to get some “thing” in return for their cash so offering someone a free psychic reading — for the first three minutes — is not a complete sham.

2. Shoot for the luminous balls of gas: If you still question whether people will buy anything, try flexing your entrepreneurial skills by starting a star registry. Now, as far as I can tell, the International Star Registry pretty much has this field tapped, but I see no reason why anyone with a computer couldn't profit from such a scam — I mean job.

And at $54 a pop, it is hard to see why anyone would pass this up. Take a page from the ISR playbook and keep the details in the fine print.

“We do not own the star, so we cannot sell it to you. This is like adopting the star … It is something you can point at to know that there is something special out there for you,” reads the registry’s website. Seriously? Perhaps, this may be shooting too low.

3. Get the hell out of Dodge: If scraping by in the U.S. economy doesn’t feel right, there is always the option to move abroad. Think about it; you get to start over and you can call yourself an ex-pat.

Some jobs abroad include hotel worker, language tutor, black-market trader, sweatshop laborer, pirate, Amsterdam coffee shop staffer and gypsy. Although I have not entirely figured out how to make money on the last one, it would be pretty easy to not spend money.

Plus, menial work in a different country never actually feels like menial work, it just feels like an extension of a holiday. Additionally, I find that no one will ever judge you for prolonging entry, or entirely avoiding, the workforce straight out of college if you tell them you just want to travel.

Avoiding post-graduation responsibility to travel can be considered an educational endeavor, but lets not pretend that it’s a slight circumvention of our adult obligations — paying taxes.

My childhood dreams of living beach side and writing books -- making The New York Times bestseller list in my pajamas -- is a pipe dream in this economy, or at least not an entry-level position.

While I can’t say that these tips are a guaranteed way to make millions, I can conclude that attempting any of the three will inevitably lead to one final solution — grad school anyone?

Thursday, April 9, 2009

Cell-Phone Disturbia

I, against all my might, managed to make it through spring break without my cell phone.

I realize how that statement may not be entirely true, and misleading at best.

It all began about 13 months ago when my “only-pay-the-taxes, re-sign-your-contract-for-the-next-70-years, and promise-my-first-born-child” (otherwise known as Verizon’s free phone) was not good enough for me.

I wanted the Chocolate.

Not to play music -- I knew there was no way I was going to devote any time to learning how to upload music on anything other than my iPod.

It was definitely not because I got a good deal – please, $250 on eBay, with no warranty, usb cord or directions for that matter. **Red Flag no. 1

No, I bought the Chocolate because it looked cool. Kind of.

Its glossy whiteness, touch screen-y goodness had me at 'hello.'

Fast forward about 8 months to the day my Chocolate comes down with a serious case of ennui and decides it just can’t go on any longer transmitting text messages or illuminating its screen.

However, up until this point my cell phone was aesthetically promising but functionally defeating (not that I was completely willing to admit this). My chin consistently grazed the touch screen every time I would take a call, prompting the phone to demand I say whether I wanted to send a message. Why I would want to send a message while I was already speaking to the person was beyond me, but maybe the Chocolate knew something I didn’t.

After a conversation pleading and begging with the Verizon woman, she surprisingly handed me over a free, refurbished Chocolate. I was stunned; this woman owed me nothing and didn’t have to do that. **Red Flag no. 2

This last week marked the death of my second Chocolate.

To make it even worse, every single one of my friends back home had bought into the iPhone craze and we obnoxiously tap-tap-tapping on the touch screen.

I reluctantly signed another 2-year contract and was given a “free” phone for promising my future nonexistent deed to my nonexistent house (and other such promises).

I’m not going to lie.

Not having my phone sucked. It was not a “freeing” incident where I realized my utter dependence on this particular technology was shallow and insignificant compared to poverty or having your computer crash.

I didn’t for one minute forget it wasn’t working.

The experience did not awaken my inner child.

It was just simply a week without my cell phone. OK, four days.