Tag Archives: advertising

My Friends Doing Good Things for Society

my-friends-doing-good-things-for-society

Tristan joined the Peace Corps. Emily did Teach for America. Eric biked across the country building houses for the homeless. And what did I do? I moved to New York like all the other assholes, where I live in a shoebox, drown in dive bars, and complain about the rats and thieves that overrun this city.

To all my friends who are doing good things for society, please stop. You are making me look bad. Maybe not to my parents, who are pleased as punch with this “real job” I’ve managed to hold for a year. Telling their friends I work in advertising sounds a lot better than, “Andrea wants to be a writer/journalist/traveler something.” But this world is a far cry from my naïve, post-graduation Paul Salopek-esque aspirations. It’s like liberal guilt denied.

To make matters worse, I am happy here. Maybe I’m not teaching children to read or building wells or exposing humanitarian injustices, but I am paying off debts and not disappointing my parents.

That’s something to be proud of, right?

Andrea

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Valentine’s Day

Valentine's Day

Hating on Valentine’s Day is not uncommon. I too am one who rants against the overly commercialized holiday. But my rants aren’t about Hallmark cards or sappy ads or forced displays of affection. Truthfully, I support any opportunity to express love. This tirade isn’t about how I feel left out. I don’t even know if I want a boyfriend. (Though it would be nice to have someone around to change the light bulbs and take out the trash.)

Valentine’s Day is a bullshit holiday, because no one knows what to do with me. I don’t eat chocolate. Roses are tired and die too quickly. (I can barely take care of myself, let alone flowers.) Once, a boy took me to an expensive French restaurant although he should know I am uncomfortable eating around other people. Then there are too many “happy” couples crowding my favorite Lower East Side brunch spots. There isn’t even a bar seat where I can drink my Saturday morning mimosa(s).

The best Valentine I ever got was a simple text message a few years ago: “I wish we were avoiding this holiday together.” I was cooking dinner for my boyfriend and responded later: “So do I.”

Whoops.

Andrea