After attending a seminar last week on the bleakness of the academia job market (basically, after working for less than minimum wage for 10+ years, if you're the 'lucky' one in 3 x 10^3, you might be able to get a job that chains you to a life of 80+ hour work weeks for slightly above minimum wage and don't even think about having any sort of life beyond . . . this isn't an exaggeration my dears, this is reality) I decided that perhaps I should re-focus my efforts on plan B . . . B for "bling" not "bedazzled" which means, "Plan B: Marry for Money". I'm not really sure people can do that anymore, it seems like it happened all the time a hundred years ago, but I'm not sure trust fund children hang out at the Safeway trying to decide whether they should splurge that week on name brand tortillas or go for the generic "El Sketchy" ones that are a buck cheaper. At any rate, I decided that nothing would be better for Valentine's Day this year than watching "The Gold Rush" with Charlie Chaplin while snacking on Moose Tracks and Caramel Caribou ice cream with friends. (We were going to make Baked Alaska with snowy peaks of meringue hiding the chocolate and caramel streaked pay dirt, but after my week of baking, the thought of turning on the oven turned my stomach.) This was particularly apropos as Bridgette and I had read up on the Klondike by visiting the National Park Unit here in Seattle. Okay, I saw this in my film history class in high school but I forgot how incredibly hilarious it was. That Chaplin was genius. We also picked up some few pointers from Georgia, the heroine of the story, on how to marry a multi-millionaire. Apparently, it's all in the over-the-shoulder "I'll see you later" glance as you exit a room. I'm gonna need some practice on that one but Megan has it down. Definitely innate talent. Dirk Nowitzki is not married Megan. It might be time to use your newfound charms and move to Dallas. Too bad the Sonics left town, otherwise you could have just stayed here and waited for the Mavs to come to you.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
The Gold Digger's Valentine
After attending a seminar last week on the bleakness of the academia job market (basically, after working for less than minimum wage for 10+ years, if you're the 'lucky' one in 3 x 10^3, you might be able to get a job that chains you to a life of 80+ hour work weeks for slightly above minimum wage and don't even think about having any sort of life beyond . . . this isn't an exaggeration my dears, this is reality) I decided that perhaps I should re-focus my efforts on plan B . . . B for "bling" not "bedazzled" which means, "Plan B: Marry for Money". I'm not really sure people can do that anymore, it seems like it happened all the time a hundred years ago, but I'm not sure trust fund children hang out at the Safeway trying to decide whether they should splurge that week on name brand tortillas or go for the generic "El Sketchy" ones that are a buck cheaper. At any rate, I decided that nothing would be better for Valentine's Day this year than watching "The Gold Rush" with Charlie Chaplin while snacking on Moose Tracks and Caramel Caribou ice cream with friends. (We were going to make Baked Alaska with snowy peaks of meringue hiding the chocolate and caramel streaked pay dirt, but after my week of baking, the thought of turning on the oven turned my stomach.) This was particularly apropos as Bridgette and I had read up on the Klondike by visiting the National Park Unit here in Seattle. Okay, I saw this in my film history class in high school but I forgot how incredibly hilarious it was. That Chaplin was genius. We also picked up some few pointers from Georgia, the heroine of the story, on how to marry a multi-millionaire. Apparently, it's all in the over-the-shoulder "I'll see you later" glance as you exit a room. I'm gonna need some practice on that one but Megan has it down. Definitely innate talent. Dirk Nowitzki is not married Megan. It might be time to use your newfound charms and move to Dallas. Too bad the Sonics left town, otherwise you could have just stayed here and waited for the Mavs to come to you.
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4 comments:
You need to come to Ohio State. Then we can bake cakes and plan international trips.
Bling not Bedazzled. Still my favorite quote from this weekend.
Clearly I should have you strategizing for me! How did I not come up with that idea while the sonics WERE still here?? Ah well, Dallas here I come.
To Kate, uh yes yes and triple yes. Ohio State is on the list for post-doc. I like the sound of international trips, you going to Brazil yeah?
To Esther, I know! I almost fell off my chair.
To Megan, I can tell how much you love Dirkikins when I think of how sunny and hot Dallas can get. That's love, not gold digging.
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