The weightless life of a recent college grad

Since I’m graduated and unemployed (as of June 18), I
think a lot about career prospects. At first, I was thinking that I
wanted to work in showbiz or media or something, but now I have my
heart set on a new calling: the action sports industry (e.g., surf
and skate companies).

This in no small part is due to the fact that so far, the nicest
rejection letters have been from companies in the action sports
industry companies. They might not give me a job, but still, they
remind me to “keep surfing” or “keep the soul
alive” or other such chill sentiments. If they’re this
“aloha” not offering me a job, I bet they’re even
cooler to actually work for.

So I was thinking ““ you know what the ultimate profession
must be? Hang-glide instructor. Those fellas, with their
bleached-blond good looks and rippling back muscles, must get all
sorts of dates.

The pay might not be that good, but being weightless is, pardon
the expression, worth its weight in gold.

Since I am graduated and unemployed, I think about being
weightless a lot. I don’t mean being out in space, but rather
what if I were an eagle … or it’s polar opposite, a
dolphin? I have a feeling that being weightless as either a dolphin
in the water or an eagle in the skies must be pretty sick.

During my school years, I walked on clouds, carefree and light.
Then I graduated and the real world landed on me like a fat person
falling off a ladder while trying to paint or change a window
that’s really high. At this precise moment, I’m under
the ladder and the fat person has landed on top of me.

The bane of my existence, as it is with all new grads in liberal
arts and sciences, is experience. Let’s just say that the job
I was the least unqualified for, that I applied to, asked for a
minimum of two years in the action sports industry. Two years?

With a college degree, you’re too good for little cool
jobs at a surf shop, but you’re not qualified for any
meaningful work either. Though I take creative liberties with my
resume, there’s no getting around that most of my experience
in the real world involved making copies for unhappy producers
during my six-month internship at a movie studio.

I have lots of experiences, but not experience, if you know what
I mean … and I think you do.

So now I spend my days “surfing” the
“Internet” scouring for action sports companies … and
celebrity news. Since graduation, I’ve transformed into a
celebrity news junkie. I don’t get it. I was pretty normal
all through school, but for some reason, instead of occasionally
glimpsing magazine covers at the checkout stand, I now actively
search for celebrity gossip.

Much of the blame goes to Tom Cruise going bananas at the same
time I graduated. He was my gateway into the “drug” of
triviality. With no class or papers or job or cable TV at my house,
I had time, DSL Internet and the latest Cruise antics to keep me
busy.

So after sending out a couple resumes and flubbing an equal
number of cover letters every morning to various companies that had
no reason to hire me, I would need to stop thinking ““
fast.

There is nothing in the world that will fry your brain like
celebrity news. You start off as an ironic observer only to be
ensnared by the absolute absurdity. Is Jennifer Aniston turning to
the strong, reassuring arms of Vince Vaughn? Did Cruise try to get
Scarlett Johansson to join Scientology? Do Scientologists really
believe that million-year-old aliens inhabit human bodies?

But ENOUGH! I should be searching for my own dreams, not living
vicariously through the fabulous lives of glamorous celebrities. If
my celebrity infatuation has taught me anything, it’s that
some ridiculously good-looking, shallow people have beaten the odds
so they could become beautiful people in movies.

You know what? Stop looking for me on the ‘Net. Look up at
the sky, where the hang-gliding studs hang. I’ll be getting
wicked extreme.

Did you hear [email protected] is so dating Amanda
Bynes? No, you shut up!