What’s funnier than watching my father, who once switched newspaper subscriptions because his current one was “too liberal,” relax on the sofa after driving 3 hours to Austin, reach for the stack of newspapers on my coffee table - issues of none other than America’s Finest News Source, the Onion, and start reading the issue on top (the one with the following headline: BUSH MAKES SURPRISE VISIT TO WORK)? I just couldn’t resist. I waited for about a minute or so before I said off-handedly, “Oh Dad – you do know that’s a satirical paper, don’t you?”
He dropped that thing as if it were covered in the actual blood, sweat, and toenail clippings of every Democrat, every broadcast journalist not on Fox News and every Canadian, Brit or Russian who would vote for a U.S. Democrat if they could.
But it’s ok, because later that day, I told him that I’ve actually been enjoying my statistics class this semester. Sometimes I even think it’s pretty cool. A math class. The man’s face lit up brighter than the National Christmas Tree.
11/14/2007
11/11/2007
Why do birds suddenly appear?
I’ve had a huge crush for a little over a year now. On an ad agency. Yes, an ad agency. Because it was at this agency with its lovely people, its decidedly un-agency-like art-clad walls and its perfect, nearly uptown Dallas location that jump-started the unexpected uprooting of this Dallas girl to the city who proudly keeps it weird. (Nope, still not feeling the proud weird thing)
Last week, I finally sent a card to the President of this agency – a love letter deftly disguised as a professional networking communication. And this week, a new email appeared in my inbox as a direct result of this "professional networking communication." That’s right, the name of the President of the agency was in MY INBOX! (Cue cheesy Carpenters' song) I’ve been reading this email, swooning, on an average of once an hour for the past couple of days. You see, this crush of mine has extended an invitation to me to visit! The agency asked me out!
And somehow, none of this behavior – the swooning, the weak knees, The Carpenters - seemed at all odd to me.
That is, until I found myself reading and re-reading every word, analyzing EXACTLY what each one means: What exactly did he mean by “happy?” Does this mean that he likes me? And when he says “career path-“
WAIT A MINUTE. What the bloody hell am I doing?
I am a smart, independent aspiring advertising professional. Not a dramatic, love-sick teenager. I do not NEED an ad agency –
No, wait. I do need an ad agency.
Why do stars fall down from the sky? Every time you walk by…
Last week, I finally sent a card to the President of this agency – a love letter deftly disguised as a professional networking communication. And this week, a new email appeared in my inbox as a direct result of this "professional networking communication." That’s right, the name of the President of the agency was in MY INBOX! (Cue cheesy Carpenters' song) I’ve been reading this email, swooning, on an average of once an hour for the past couple of days. You see, this crush of mine has extended an invitation to me to visit! The agency asked me out!
And somehow, none of this behavior – the swooning, the weak knees, The Carpenters - seemed at all odd to me.
That is, until I found myself reading and re-reading every word, analyzing EXACTLY what each one means: What exactly did he mean by “happy?” Does this mean that he likes me? And when he says “career path-“
WAIT A MINUTE. What the bloody hell am I doing?
I am a smart, independent aspiring advertising professional. Not a dramatic, love-sick teenager. I do not NEED an ad agency –
No, wait. I do need an ad agency.
Why do stars fall down from the sky? Every time you walk by…
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