Things are looking up! A common phrase for the sentiment of "WOHOO! The future looks bright!" (Another metaphor, excuse me.) As I sip my Lady Grey tea, I am enthusiastic about things that will happen in the future. I am eager for events in the future to happen. In other words, I am employed!
... for the summer. I will be a digital strategy intern at an advertising company. Does anyone know anything about Winston-Salem, North Carolina? If so, COMMENT.
I am also thinking a lot about marathons. For some reason, marathons seem to be the hottest thing right now. One of my colleagues is training for a marathon, the resident graduate student of our dorm is running a marathon, and my father is running long-distance with marathon runners every Sunday. Last year, one of the RAs I worked with had run a marathon and because he worked out every day, he did it very casually. I found out that one of the bloggers whom I follow diligently runs marathons. She's my age.
Marathon running is about physical and mental endurance. I'm sure the physical aspect of it is apparent to you, but unless you're a long-distance runner, the mental endurance is something that may need explanation. One mile is 5,280 feet. Let's say that is putting your foot in front of you 5,280 times. It sounds like a lot, but in truth you probably walk way over amount in a day. So three miles (5k) is 15,840 times, five miles (8k) is 26,400 times, and ten miles (16.1k) is 52,800 times. A marathon (26 mi, 42.195k) is 138,435 times. You're putting your foot in front of you 138,435 times. Your body is repeating the same motion over and over for 4 or 5 hours. Have you ever done anything 138,435 times? You blink about 20,000 times a day and that's automatic: your body does that for you. For a marathon, that's when mental endurance kicks in. What is driving you after the 5,280 step?
No, I am not running a marathon. However, it's a thought that's in my head and I've never thought about it before. Even when I was running cross country, the most that I've run is 7 miles. Even then, I disliked running races. Perhaps I should think about running a half marathon? Thoughts?
Uncut, uncensored - an in depth look at the UVA experience.
Showing posts with label advertising. Show all posts
Showing posts with label advertising. Show all posts
Friday, February 11, 2011
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Diversity Career Fair
The smell of crisply ironed suits and freshly printed brochures was pungent, but not as distinct as the fabulous smiles flashing after a firm handshake.
"Hi. I'm John White. Thanks for waiting in line so patiently," he said after each handshake.
Commence the thinly disguised adulation that poured forth from the poor, nervous soul in a pencil skirt. The line dutifully shifted forward a couple of steps and pretended not to overhear the conversation.
"Do you have a resume?" he inquired, and then upon receiving a sheet that was supposed to encompass the entirety of the person shaking in front of him, he asked, "Tell me about yourself."
Commence the 30-second elevator speech that the soul had practiced in the bathroom mirror the night before. The line restlessly shifted side to side in tune with the pen that he tapped against the resume.
John looked up, interested, when several key words were dropped: "self-taught," "HTML," "co-founded," "website design and development company."
"Digital," he declared, "It sounds like you'd be perfect for digital."
The soul abruptly shut up and timidly nodded her head, even though in the beginning she declared that she was interested in being a creative.
As John rattled off the process of applying for digital, his eyes slid behind and noticed the restlessness of the line snaking out behind and cutting off the poor Social Security woman from the foot traffic. Realizing that this was going to take forever, he looked up and smiled.
"Thank you for your time. Do you have any questions?"
However, John was already dog-earing her resume.
A quick note about this man's system. He either dog-ears your resume--- or doesn't. He either puts it in this pile horizontally--- or this pile vertically. All in front of the people in the line.
He dog-eared the resume and placed it horizontally in the bigger stack. The soul realized her time is up.
"Good luck," he said and gave her a firm handshake.
"Yes." A faint reply. "Good-bye."
"Hi. I'm John White. Thanks for waiting in line so patiently," he said after each handshake.
Commence the thinly disguised adulation that poured forth from the poor, nervous soul in a pencil skirt. The line dutifully shifted forward a couple of steps and pretended not to overhear the conversation.
"Do you have a resume?" he inquired, and then upon receiving a sheet that was supposed to encompass the entirety of the person shaking in front of him, he asked, "Tell me about yourself."
Commence the 30-second elevator speech that the soul had practiced in the bathroom mirror the night before. The line restlessly shifted side to side in tune with the pen that he tapped against the resume.
John looked up, interested, when several key words were dropped: "self-taught," "HTML," "co-founded," "website design and development company."
"Digital," he declared, "It sounds like you'd be perfect for digital."
The soul abruptly shut up and timidly nodded her head, even though in the beginning she declared that she was interested in being a creative.
As John rattled off the process of applying for digital, his eyes slid behind and noticed the restlessness of the line snaking out behind and cutting off the poor Social Security woman from the foot traffic. Realizing that this was going to take forever, he looked up and smiled.
"Thank you for your time. Do you have any questions?"
However, John was already dog-earing her resume.
A quick note about this man's system. He either dog-ears your resume--- or doesn't. He either puts it in this pile horizontally--- or this pile vertically. All in front of the people in the line.
He dog-eared the resume and placed it horizontally in the bigger stack. The soul realized her time is up.
"Good luck," he said and gave her a firm handshake.
"Yes." A faint reply. "Good-bye."
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