college house

“Don’t touch anything. You could get herpes.”
That was the warning one resident gave as he heard people enter his house.
Preceding the gentleman’s “greeting” (but following the wave of the ominous pirate flag) was the pungent, acidic smell of body odor and half-empty bottles.




The floors, sealed in dirt and unrecognizable filth, let you know that it’s best to keep your shoes on. The furniture is sunken in—similar to the used pieces in any college dorm—but the surrounding elements indicate that standing would be the better option.




Signs that are usually seen hanging in bars, liquor bottles and marked up photos (in frames, nonetheless) make up the décor. One would never decorate a child's nursery with the posters from their college dwelling. Most would never decorate their college dwelling with the posters from this college dwelling. Beyond being the residence of Canisius undergraduates, it seems to be a trash heap.
Few will ever be welcomed into a home where the uneven sidewalk blocks seem cleaner than the countertops.

what to do with a political science degree

i've always wanted to be florist.
i've never told anyone that before.

i couldn't care less about 'the nielsen book'

television is a business.
that's what mark manders, a channel sales manager (i definitely did not get his title right), repeated over and over again last thursday night. i would bet a small amount of money that he has that phrase tattooed on his right forearm/pec/shoulder blade.
to tell you the truth, i waited a week to see if my thoughts regarding his presentation would change.
they didn't.
he opened up his talk by letting us know that we could ask him any question we could think of. i can't recall if any personal questions were asked. those are the first things i would ask, even if they were discussing how they cured cancer. i still like to know what degree they graduated with, if they talk to their mother every day, and what their favorite pizza topping is. if you can't pinpoint someone's character by this point, then i'd imagine you aren't too good with people in general.
mr. manders, naturally, made it clear that we could ask him what his salary is. i got turned off immediately. some people squirm when the conversation shifts to religion and politics. i squirm when people talk about money.
he gave phenomenal descriptions of what his career involves. he described the 3 most important sources of television revenue (somehow, i caught 4 different sources in my notes. color me frustrated). then, came the nielsen book.
the nielsen book. designated market areas. nielsen ratings. how i want nothing to do with these in the future. survey, meters, viewer diaries-- all of these are so bourgeois. i don't want any part of this flawed system of measuring viewership. the nielsen book could easily be the reason i have not watched any television during the past week. i don't want to be the reason some news anchor gets canned. i don't want to keep a station on top longer than it deserves to be. i don't want to prevent stations from getting to the top.
nielsen ratings stress me out. enough of that business.
mr. manders was fairly attractive and extremely enthusiastic. i could picture him being a frat boy from ASU. (i probably wouldn't be speculating so much if i could have asked him the questions i wanted answered.) he swore a couple times and that, to me, is somewhat endearing. as ridiculous as this sounds, i feel a bit more comfortable around people who swear-- or are at least projecting some personal nuances that let me know they aren't robots.
he presented us with some advice that he was given by his former boss, Bill Applegate (he had something to do with the firing/hiring/something-ing of the Pope-rah Oprah). Applegate said, "keep your friends close but your enemies closer. and keep your enemies so close that they feel the cold steel of the gun before it goes off."
well, isn't that just some kind of precious.

spilling

my plans for after graduation have been troubling my family for about a year now. they ask what i want to do with my anticipated political science degree and i simply answer, "nothing." to tell you the truth, that's what i also say when they ask what job offers i have lined up.


however, what i haven't been asked is what i want to do when i graduate.


(my dream job is to open up a floral shop.)


no one in my family knows that i have set up a few opportunities in the future. i am terrified to tell them that i want to volunteer. anything without a salary, business attire, or a gold plated nametag doesn't strike them as a mature, coherent decision. they love me and they are the most selfless, generous people i have ever known, but making a career out of this isn't taken too seriously-- unless i'm entering a convent.

this past winter, i worked in an all boys middle school through canisius' winter service week program. it was in the heart of a dominican and hispanic section of nyc and i have never experience danything like it. i would go on walks through the neighborhood and meet people who embodied why nyc is the greatest city in the world.


at the rectory where we lived, a woman named sister dorothy (a living, breathing angel) candidly said something that enveloped everything i want: "let's just live simply so that others may simply live."

how beautiful is that.

i saw a fence that was a glorious dedication to the families and victims of the world trade center attacks. it was covered in tiles designed by children from all over, whether or not they were directly affected by the events of 9/11. i cried. i was completely overwhelmed by their emotions, saturating the ceremic and giving hope to people they don't even know. it was contagious and it washed over every person who came across it.

the middle school and the students in it changed me for the better. their sincerity and acceptance was something that outweighed a paycheck or a bulleted point on a resume. i learned about their families. they tried to teach me spanish. i picked up "rojo" and i already knew "toro"; now i can order/demand a redbull en espanol. bueno.




i taught them that all adults have eyes in the backs of their heads and that once i took my high heels off, i could play basketball. so much of what we did was nothing like high school community service. it was meeting people and having conversations with people who don't judge you past your favorite television show (they couldn't grasp the fact that spongebob squarepants didn't make my top 10. or top 15. or top five hundred).