Wednesday, May 06, 2009
Career Day
7:30 a.m.: Off to high school. Totter down sidewalk in carefully chosen heels and outfit meant to convey respectability but youth and fun too. Snow whistles from sky – first day of spring.
7:33 a.m.: Realize have forgotten to bring copy of paper I work for. But cannot face walk back down block in heels lugging bag of handouts and business cards. Call husband on cell to complain.
7:40 a.m.: Arrive sporting pink ears and running nose. Helpful high school senior leads me throughout hallways on quest for copy of the day’s paper. Finds gym teacher, who loans me his. "How about for some good coverage?" he says good-naturedly. "Sure!" I grin.
7:45 a.m.: Coffee in auditorium. I slug it back and peer around. Many, many suits. No one else appears to be concerned about looking boring.
7:55 a.m.: Group photo. Blonde woman in glasses sits next to me and stares at my name tag. I stick out my hand and introduce myself. She shakes limply. "Get your facts straight," she sneers. I tell her that won’t be a problem once the paper is edited entirely by computers. Smile!
8 a.m.: Am at table with cheerful PR rep for large local university. Students filter into gym. Some actually sit at our table. I accidentally take up entire time allottment rambling about future of journalism before students are told to move on to next table.
9 a.m.: Flip open paper and use it for emphasis. Students appear interested or perhaps just very polite. Search for appropriate props at paper night before had only turned up five-foot-tall photo of Pancho Villa with Post-It stuck next to his face saying, "Adios, Amigos!"
9:45 a.m.: Crowds at our table begin to dwindle. Scent of cinnamon wafts through gym.
10 a.m.: Restaurant/hospitality industry table behind me begins serving churros out of toaster oven. Students abandon other professions in droves.
10:15 a.m.: Compliment student’s "I Heart Mr. Darcy" T-shirt. Chat about literature. Perhaps best to steer bright, informed young woman away from newspapers. Co-workers consulted night before about helpful advice to relay to would-be journalists clutched me by shoulder and said, "Tell them not to do it."
10:45 a.m.: Pick up coat and second cup of coffee from auditorium. Look for blonde woman to trip on way out. Still snowing.
7:30 a.m.: Off to high school. Totter down sidewalk in carefully chosen heels and outfit meant to convey respectability but youth and fun too. Snow whistles from sky – first day of spring.
7:33 a.m.: Realize have forgotten to bring copy of paper I work for. But cannot face walk back down block in heels lugging bag of handouts and business cards. Call husband on cell to complain.
7:40 a.m.: Arrive sporting pink ears and running nose. Helpful high school senior leads me throughout hallways on quest for copy of the day’s paper. Finds gym teacher, who loans me his. "How about for some good coverage?" he says good-naturedly. "Sure!" I grin.
7:45 a.m.: Coffee in auditorium. I slug it back and peer around. Many, many suits. No one else appears to be concerned about looking boring.
7:55 a.m.: Group photo. Blonde woman in glasses sits next to me and stares at my name tag. I stick out my hand and introduce myself. She shakes limply. "Get your facts straight," she sneers. I tell her that won’t be a problem once the paper is edited entirely by computers. Smile!
8 a.m.: Am at table with cheerful PR rep for large local university. Students filter into gym. Some actually sit at our table. I accidentally take up entire time allottment rambling about future of journalism before students are told to move on to next table.
9 a.m.: Flip open paper and use it for emphasis. Students appear interested or perhaps just very polite. Search for appropriate props at paper night before had only turned up five-foot-tall photo of Pancho Villa with Post-It stuck next to his face saying, "Adios, Amigos!"
9:45 a.m.: Crowds at our table begin to dwindle. Scent of cinnamon wafts through gym.
10 a.m.: Restaurant/hospitality industry table behind me begins serving churros out of toaster oven. Students abandon other professions in droves.
10:15 a.m.: Compliment student’s "I Heart Mr. Darcy" T-shirt. Chat about literature. Perhaps best to steer bright, informed young woman away from newspapers. Co-workers consulted night before about helpful advice to relay to would-be journalists clutched me by shoulder and said, "Tell them not to do it."
10:45 a.m.: Pick up coat and second cup of coffee from auditorium. Look for blonde woman to trip on way out. Still snowing.
