Thursday, April 30, 2015

One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish...

Behold, I give you the fishermen of the Salt Lake Valley. 





I know it's not a Monday, but a gal will do anything to procrastinate studying for finals, as I did last night.

Like collect fish pictures from friends.




 

As aforementioned, I hate fish. I think fish are terrible. 
Probably one of my favorite things on earth is swimming in the ocean, but if you want to give me a panic attack have me put on some snorkel gear to see what's underneath.

I don't need to know that they are there. We can just peacefully coexist, them slithering below, and me bobbing on top. 

And don't even get me started on eating them...


 

With all of these amazing pictures, it does beg the question, what is it about fish that compels all of these men to post pictures of them?


 

Here are my working theories:
  • They are super outdoorsy
  • They love to fish
  • They are showing that they can provide during the Apocalypse
  • Hitch told them that women like guys that fish
  • There are directions when men join Tinder instructing them to post a fish picture
  • SLC is very Christian so they are just showing actual representation of a man taught to fish
  • It's some sort of phallic Freudian euphemism

 

Before all y'all get all up in arms with thoughts like, "Linda! They are all perfectly nice men! Why don't you go out with ALL of them!!" 
Remember- I'm not on any dating site right now. 

Who the hell has time for that AND work AND graduate school? 

I've always said online sites are a part time job with the time and energy you have to invest. And I've chosen to invest my time and energy elsewhere.

You know, I'm investing my time in work and school and a blog that like 10 people read and over an hour to blur out faces and names... 

Priorities, people. Priorities. 




If you are going to talk to me about fish, this is the only thing I would be interested in...






Monday, April 27, 2015

The Economics of Online Dating, or, Why I Will Never Do Online Dating Again

I will most likely not do online dating again. I mean, never say never, but I feel pretty good about the decision in this moment.  And I know what you're thinking. You're thinking it is because of all of the pictures of men with fish out there, and I hate fish.
(Seriously. All. Fish. I have a friend who has begun collecting the pictures of the guys holding fish. Do single straight guys think girls like a guy who can fish? My brother-in-law is an avid fisherman, and he is awesome... But still.  Way too many pictures of fish. )

Fish aside, I have learned some things being in school for four months.
Not many things, but some.

I currently have an A in my Econ class, which means all you farmers need to chain down your pigs. I believe I can do this sort of math because it also comes with a picture and a story, so my left brained mind can get past the right brain number struggle.  But with that A I have learned about basic supply and demand. And I've learned that in a community that struggles to get on with it, online dating is the absolute worst thing we could do. And yet, we all do it.

It used to have a stigma. Even five years ago when I jumped in full force I was embarrassed to tell people. It was a last resort measure for the non-dater.  But now if you have a single friend they have tried something. I guarantee they have a current Tinder account. (They also have at least 10 dreadful stories from said Tinder account, ranging from the  the most ridiculous like my friend who had a guy- take her to Little Caesars for a $5 hot and ready pizza...And he wouldn't pay the extra $2 for the deep dish...Or crazy bread!! Or the completely inappropriate, like the guy that told me about his open marriage, and how he is interested in mutual masturbation... That's when I deleted the app. Enough is enough.)

What I've learned with my current A in Economics (Finals are in two days, so it could all come crashing down) but I've learned that this online system is flawed.

Basic Supply and Demand.

As the quantity of an item increases, the Demand goes down. Consumers don't really want it as much any more, because it is so available. It's easy. It's there.  Any online option has multitudes of choices. So. Many. Choices. And because you know there is somebody else just a right swipe away, you care a little less.

Also going down with quantity increase?  That item's value.  The value that the consumer esteems this item at plummets, the higher the quantity.

As the quantity supplied goes up that also means there are more producers in the market. And with more producers, that means that some of the people producing aren't as efficient. Because there is so much room in the market, anyone can join. Even people in an open marriage who propose all sorts of inappropriate things. Or people who love Hot & Ready's. Or people with pictures of fish.

And if there is less efficiency, and a lower value placed on who is in there, if the interest level has decreased then why would I subject myself to that? I used to think it was a good process.  And it has it's perks. Since I deleted all accounts, I haven't been on a single date.

But I want quality, not quantity. I want something with value, not something cheap.
I want someone to think I'm awesome, not just wonder if there may be someone else more interesting/pretty/smart/insert trait here, and then just go back to the search pool to find them. With that much choice, and so many options, there is nothing meaningful. Nothing special.

If you want something fleeting, something meaningless, it is the right track to take. But we know that's not what I'm after.  I've yet to figure out how I will meet single men otherwise. I thought leaving a matriarchal retail store would help me meet men, but then I ended up working from home. I thought starting graduate school would help me meet men, but as it turns out an MBA program has a lot of married men. (And leave it to me to have my closest male friend in the program be the gay one.)

Maybe I just need to take up fishing.

Monday, April 20, 2015

The Top 7 Ways to Have a Popular Blog

1. Post stylistic photos with kids, and call them "littles."



TRUTH: He's not my kid. He's my kick-ass nephew. And for some reason the word "littles" is like nails down  the chalkboard for me. Seriously. Who started that? Please. Stop.


2. Start Trolling and say something controversial.



TRUTH: This shirt just makes me laugh. Posting this on Facebook once, I actually got some people that got into Political tirades. (HILLARY 2016!!)  Please know, the shirt is just worn to bed, and in all honesty, is too small...  And for the record, I'd go out with anyone of any political persuasion. (He just can't be listening to Glenn Beck while he buries gold in his back yard and stockpiles an arsenal in his basement. I've gotta draw the line somewhere... I used that line once in an email to someone I met online, thinking I was hilarious. He responded by explaining the value of gold these days, and facts on the Second Amendment.)


3. Post about all the trips you go on.


TRUTH: I LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE the adventures I've been on, but 90% of them have been solo, and I'd rather be spending that time WITH someone.  I'd trade a trip to Paris any day for an evening in SLC with a special someone.... Well, maybe not Paris...


4. Post Selfies. LOTS and LOTS of Selfies.

TRUTH: see #3. Because usually there's nobody else to even be in the picture.
Two words: Selfie Stick.


5. Cats. Because, internet+cats= sensation.


TRUTH: Duh. My blogs namesake in all his furry glory.


6. Have an OOTD- (Outfit Of The Day, for the layman)

TRUTH: I love clothes. LOVE THEM. I buy way too many, and I'll continue to do so. When I was in Junior High my mom started promising that me and my sisters each got a new outfit once a month.  That, combined with 17 years working in retail, and I'm a goner. That being said, most people don't look like the people who post an OOTD.  Most people look a little more awkward. Plus, all my best outfits involve sweats of some sort these days. Plus I don't want you to care what I wear.
TRUTH: I'd rather entertain you. I want to make you laugh.


7. Have some sort of list and hope Buzzed will pick it up.  


Monday, April 13, 2015

Holiday Stalking

Sometimes I get myself into the most ridiculous situations. Especially, it seems, when it has to do with dating.  I feel like I'm living an episode of 30 Rock, Parks and Recreation or the Mindy Project. You may watch these lovely lady protagonist heroes of mine and think, thats ridiculous, that would NEVER happen, where I think, OMG I had something similar happen to me!!
It is a good thing I have a good sense of humor, or heaven help me...

And somehow, even though I haven't been on a proper date for about 6 months, my dating life has caught up with me in graduate school.

So lets just get something out in the open. We ALL internet stalk people. Don't tell me you've never looked up an old flame, a new crush, a co-worker, a boss. If you hear a story about someone, the FIRST thing you do is google them. You find them on Instagram. You look them up on Facebook to compare shared friends. If you say you've never done this, you are lying. You have. We ALL have. It is basically why the internet was invented.  Ask Al Gore.

So.

Internet stalking.

You do it. I do it.  WE DO IT!

It's done.

And now let's set the scene:

Class, a few minutes before it is set to start, girl trying too hard to become friends with a group member.

LINDA: Hey! So I was internet stalking this guy last night, because sometimes I'm just curious what he's up to, and he was traveling abroad, and I guess he was there visiting some girl, and so I looked her up on Facebook, and guess what, she's friends with you!! It looks like you guys had pictures together YEARS ago. Isn't that funny? Small world.

HIM:...Wait... Like traveling abroad, where?

LINDA: Oh, to Europe*. (*it wasn't Europe...)

HIM: Europe*?... O.M.G!!! You were internet stalking Bob**!! (**his name's not Bob).

LINDA:(backpedal...backpedal...) How do you know Bob**??

HIM: How do YOU know Bob**??

And then, to top it all off...

HIM: I'm really good friends with Betty***. (***her name's not Betty.), who Bob** is visiting. 

LINDA: Like how good of friends?

HIM:  We Skype several times a week....


I don't get embarrassed easily. When you are as ridiculous as I am as often as I am you learn to laugh at yourself.  I've fallen out of my chair now THREE TIMES in one of my classes. But in this moment I felt my cheeks getting hot...

Because I knew he was going to tell Betty***
and Betty would tell Bob**
and PLEASE DON'T TELL BOB**!!!!!
WHY are all my most ridiculous situations connected to BOB**!!??

A week or so later, me and my new Graduate School Buddy were studying at his house. His phone sat between us on a speaker doc, playing nice ambient music as we tried to figure out pivot tables and other statistical charts. And then his phone rang. And as one does, when a cell phone rings in front of you, I looked at it.

It was Betty***.
Calling my Graduate School Buddy.
Over FaceTime.
From Europe*.

"Don't answer it!!" I said, the mortification flooding over me again.

He looked at me with a wicked grin, as he answered her call. He proceeded to say hello, and then turn the phone towards me as he said, "Look who's here!!"

I smiled too big, and said hello too enthusiastically. "We're just here doing homework!" I said, in a voice about an octave higher than my usual register.

Here's the thing. She was so cute. And nice. And, truth be told, she and I have SEVEN mutual friends on Facebook, from such different and random places, all people I really like, and I know if I ever met her in real life I would be her friend. But I didn't want to meet her in that moment. I didn't want to like her in that moment.  In that moment I was MORTIFIED.

She said hello, and he turned the phone back around to chat with her saying, "That's my friend, Linda. She know's Bob**!!"

I don't know if Betty*** or Bob** ever found out about my internet scouring.

However, I haven't internet stalked Bob**, or anyone, since.

Or maybe I have just learned not to tell anyone about it.

Monday, April 6, 2015

Applying for Graduate School, or, How To Get The Definitive Answer on How Many Spaces Belong After a Period


When you apply to graduate school, you have to do all sorts of horrible things like take a three hour test where you do math, SO MUCH MATH, and you you are interviewed and asked about things that happened in your undergrad life 15 years ago, and WHO REMEMBERS THAT!?!   

But you also get to write a personal essay, and when that happens the interviewer may tell you that she enjoyed reading your essays, after grilling you about things you did when you were 20, so you don't feel so bad. 

This actually stemmed from a former post. (please to enjoy here) but I took it an tweaked it. 

Behold, my graduate entrance essay:

***
All activities, decisions, and actions involve some level of risk. The company I work for does training and consulting with manufacturers in the life science industry and we offer a training course on Quality Risk Management. Risk Management in this industry is specifically about assessing risk in approaching a manufacturing scenario with the designs, systems, and processes with making their product. The main idea behind Risk Management in manufacturing is to think of EVERY. SINGLE. LITTLE. THING. that could possibly go wrong with your product. On purpose. (If you suffer from severe anxiety, do not become a manufacturing engineer working in the Risk Management department).

One example in the training is selling milkshakes. In this scenario participants are asked to list everything they can foresee going wrong if they worked in a store that sold milkshakes. You can run out of ingredients, you can have the wrong ingredients, you can mix up the ingredients, your cup can break, you can spill on the counter, spill on yourself, spill on a customer - the list goes on and on and on. There are a seemingly infinite numbers of issues that could arise, ranging from bad to worse. The manufacturers in the course will then come up with plans and processes to make sure these potential hazards don’t occur.

In life the most common response to a potential hazard is inaction. If you don’t put yourself in the line of fire, you wont get hit. If don’t make a milkshake, you wont spill.
Up until now, I have stayed out of the line of fire when it comes to an advanced degree. If I don’t apply, I don’t have to worry about the myriad of hazards that come with a graduate education. I will not have to deal with the work, the late nights, the stress, the debt. If I don’t apply I will not deal with the insecurity of being unsure how technology works with the educational experience, knowing that when I graduated from college 13 years ago I didn’t yet own a cell phone. If I don’t apply I’ll never have the stress of the GMAT, or worry that my last math course was over a decade ago. Without applying I don’t have to worry that I’m not quite sure anymore if you are supposed to put one space or two after a period when writing a formal research paper.

But as time has passed, and I gain more experience and move forward in my career, there is a new scenario that has presented itself- the potential risk of NOT pursuing a graduate education. If I don’t apply I lose the opportunity to learn new skills and acquire new information that can help me progress even further in my career. If I don’t apply I will never be able to engage with other young professionals, learning from them and their experiences. If I don’t apply I will never gain new insight on how to help my small company move forward and grow. And if I don’t apply I will never get the definitive answer on how many spaces actually belong after a period when writing a formal research paper.

In the training course, after listing the potential hazards, they discuss how severe the harm would be with each hazard. If you ran out of ingredients to make your milkshake, how severe would the outcome be overall to you or your organization? And so I weigh each of my hazards carefully, and assess the potential harm- to attend or not to attend the University of Utah. How severe would the harm of each of those choices be? What is the projected outcome?

And I have my answer.

The anxiety is still there. The list of potential hazards with actually getting in to the program and starting the coursework to acquire an MBA are stacking up. I am thinking of EVERY. SINGLE. LITTLE. THING. But the potential harm of not doing it is too great. And so I accept the potential risk. I’m pursuing a graduate education. 

***