Paging Dr. Cassie

September 4, 2010 by Cassie

In my almost twenty-one short (or long, depending on what mood I’m in) years of life, I’ve received a lot of advice. Most of it has been given to me without my even asking. Some people are really thoughtful that way. Some of it has come by request from me, only to be completely ignored and for me to do the opposite of what has been suggested. Example: “Cass, don’t jump off your bunk bed.” “Leave me alone! This is the safest and most rewarding activity I could possibly partake in!” Five seconds and one nearly spine-shattering landing later: a potential back problem that will likely set in 10 years sooner than it would otherwise and me screaming bloody murder.

A lot of the advice I’ve received, such as the above mentioned, has come from my parents, because that’s what parents are supposed to do. Much of their advice, when first given, was wholly unconsidered by yours truly, occasionally followed by an eye roll, only for me to later deem it worthy of my attention. I’ve certainly received a fair share of advice from other loved ones such as friends, and it’s sometimes so the opposite of what I’ve expected or just simply wanted to hear, that I disregarded their guidance, too. Example: “Cassie, that outfit is hideous. You should change.” “No! Lime green spandex pants are totally in right now!” Five minutes and four little giggling middle-school twits later: a wounded ego and a several-year-long exploration of what kind of clothes are flattering for a young girl to wear.

Every now and then, I’ll get a life lesson from a stranger or someone who hardly knows me at all. This type of advice is sometimes of the most value—a stranger can have the most objective outlook on your situation of anyone you encounter. Other times, it’s simply the most maddening, i.e. “Who the hell do you think you are to give me your idiotic, unwarranted advice?” Because, in reality, most people are just dumb.

Why do I even bother asking for advice?

Despite these flaws, I’ve learned a lot from the people around me, whether I realized in the moment just how valuable their guidance was or not. And I know I’ve had several people confide in me with their problems, and each of them has told me what a good listener I am. They also know that they can trust me, because I would never share their problems with another soul.

So, I’ve decided to try something fun and different. I’m starting an advice column here at Witty Title Here. I want you to send me your issues and dilemmas. Absolutely anything that’s going on in your life that you need a second opinion on—well, you’ve come to the right place. Want to know what you should wear for your first Friday night out as a singleton? I’ll clue you in. Need advice on what you should do about your boyfriend who wants to explore no-strings-attached relationships with other people? Uh, I’ll let you know exactly what I think about that. Can’t decide whether something is black or navy? I’ll help you figure out that life-altering difference.

Whether it’s mundane or truly serious, send it on in. You can choose to remain anonymous or not—it’s up to you; I won’t reveal your identity. Remember, though, I am not a certified advice-giver. This means the advice you receive might be ridiculous or unsatisfactory. You cannot hold me responsible for whatever potentially disastrous things happen as a result of my uninformed counsel.

Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: advice, boredom, not to be taken seriously

Don’t “judge” me

August 24, 2010 by cassie

I mentioned in my last blog post that I earned an internship with Baltimore Office of Promotion & the Arts. That’s a crazy-long name, and family and friends are constantly asking me to repeat this name because they can’t remember it, so I usually give a slightly exasperated sigh before repeating BALTIMOREOFFICEOFPROMOTIONANDTHEARTS. I figure I’ll give each person three freebies, and from there on out I’m just going to call it BOPA and tell them they can Google it if they don’t remember what it stands for.

Long name aside, I am really excited about my internship with BOPA. I’m also really relieved my worries can finally be put to rest, because finding an internship compatible with my interests and school standards (City Paper, as credible and established as it is, didn’t make the cut for school) took all spring and summer of intensive searching, corresponding, and coordinating. My dedication to this alone proves my being worthy of BOPA, in my opinion. That, and their timing was perfect, so I believe it was meant to be. So congrats, BOPA! You’ve made the right choice!

In case you don’t know what it is I do, I am a Mass Communication major. This major is the umbrella to journalism, advertising, and public relations—my specialty. I think, for the most part, this has been a good fit for me. Despite my love for writing, I ended up deciding against journalism as a major and instead went with a creative writing minor to satisfy my need to write. Unfortunately, it seems a lot of people take me considerably less seriously when they learn that public relations is my major.

Example: when I went to court in June for a speeding ticket I had received a couple months prior (not guilty, BOPA, I swear), I watched the judge, clearly nearing retirement and just having a little bit of fun until that time came, question a number of defendants. Most people were nervous, irritated or downright guilty looking. Still, the judge was good-hearted, giving some folks a bit of a hard time just for kicks, and he let everyone get away without points on their licenses, regardless of their uber-lame excuses for speeding. (For the record, “I was driving down a hill” is a totally unoriginal excuse, and the judge hears it 0293482045 times a day.)

There were a couple of girls around my age who were still in school, and the judge asked them what they studied. One girl replied with “biology,” and another replied with something equally as impressive. Botany or law or something, I don’t know. After hearing these other students talking to the impressed judge, I knew exactly what was coming for me. “He’s going to ask me what my major is,” I whispered to my dad, who was there for moral support, “and he’s not going to take me seriously.”

And what did that judge exclaim to a clearly-anxious Cassie after asking what my major was? “That’s the easiest major in the world!” Thanks. Can I have my points taken off now? “Kids choose that major just so they can party!” That’s great. But can you please stop judging me for my major? Ah. Yes. You’re a judge. Crap.

I know the term “public relations” has certain implications and is often portrayed in TV or film as soulless work that any dingbat could do. And, truth be told, I do see many people in my major who don’t seem to take their work seriously—at least not as seriously as they take their hair-straightening rituals. Still, public relations in the real world is not how it seems for the most part, and it requires savvy skills and the willingness to work really hard. Also, if you can’t write a coherent sentence… well, don’t bother.

As it turned out, the judge that afternoon was nice enough and even went on to tell about his own son who was, in fact, a Mass Communication major who blew off his schoolwork and partied until he flunked out. (Meanwhile, during the judge’s long story, I’m shaking in my court-appropriate heels and trying to decide when exactly I should smile, nod, laugh, say “uh-huh” and the likes.) Afterwards, I managed to hold my head high leaving the stand while trying not to wonder what the other people in the courtroom waiting for their own sentences thought of me, just based on looks and major alone.

Overall, this episode served as even more reinforcement that I will have to constantly prove myself to be just as worthy, if not moreso, as any other soon-to-be college grad, which will mean working twice as hard, especially since I don’t go to some fancy $40,000-a-year school that looks awesome on a resume. I’ve had some great teachers at my school, and I think my writing skills and desire to learn have both improved and increased respectively since freshman year, but it’s not a school that causes people’s eyes to widen, heads nodding with a combination of surprise and approval, when you tell them you go there. But hey, when they’re drowning in $200,000 worth of student loans 20 years down the road, I’ll be debt-free. Who’s the smarty-pants now?

Luckily, this internship with BOPA will be the perfect opportunity to prove just how smart, talented and driven I really am. My sense of humor may occasionally be defined as immature (I’m a sucker for Michael Scott’s “that’s what she said” jokes), but I’m actually quite mature in all other facets. And, I’ll say it, I’m also damn smart.

So, starting tomorrow, I’ll be giving BOPA everything I’ve got. They’re a really great organization just based on what I know so far, and if the women I interviewed with are any indication of the rest of the people there, I can already tell it’s friendly and as non-threatening of an environment as a place can be to a new intern. BOPA is the organization that presents Artscape, which I attended a few weeks ago and mentioned in a recent post, and I’m excited to help put on the Baltimore Book Festival which will take place at the end of September and essentially be my project for the coming weeks.

Wish me luck and hope I don’t do something to embarrass myself on the first day like sneeze or fall at an inopportune time. That would surely leave a lasting impression… on my face.

Business casual-ing it for my first day of WORK. Photo credit: Elsbeth (little sister)

Why don't you stick around?

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Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: Baltimore, BOPA, change, rites of passage, the next step

Proof of survival

August 20, 2010 by Cassie

You’re probably wondering what happened to Cassie on her camping trip. Was she eaten alive by bugs? Was she eaten alive by bears? Why is she writing in the third person? Something must’ve gone wrong.

No, my friends– all is well. In fact, camping might be my new favorite pasttime. I slept well in our cozy tent, managed to rescue a frightened young boy from a locked bathroom, and ended the trip by spending too much money on clothes for my new internship at Baltimore Office of Promotion & the Arts. More on that later.

For now, some visual content for those of you curious to see just what went on during my camping trip with John to Cape Henlopen State Park, Delaware. I believe the pictures speak for themselves, creating a lovely play-by-play of our long adventures spent outdoors. Imagine your favorite summer music playing in the background to create the perfect montage:

I’m already getting excited for our next camping getaway sometime in the fall, which, amazingly enough, is not that far away. I’d be more bummed about the fact that summer’s end is in sight, but there’s just too much to look forward to in the coming months. And I say that without a hint of sarcasm.

Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: BOPA, camping, nature, photoblogging

An attempt to document life

July 20, 2010 by cassie

I recently decided I just need to start taking more photos and documenting the occasionally cool (and the sometimes seemingly mundane) things I do. This past weekend was a good opportunity to do so because it was full of all sorts of adventures. On Friday, I caught up with a few girlfriends at McKenzie and her boyfriend Jamie’s cabin for some swimming and a lot of eating.

 
McKenzie lives out near a beautiful Maryland reservoir (where swimming is not technically allowed, and by technically, I mean not at all), so we took a fifteen minute hike through the thick brush and woods until we reached the perfect spot on the water, rope swing and all.
Keeping my feet poison ivy-free.
This place was magical. I’m usually hesitant to get into any kind of water, but I just eased right in, the temperature was that perfect. I guess multiple consecutive weeks of 90-something to 100+ degree weather has its benefits.
We spent close to two hours swimming, swinging and generally wearing ourselves out. McKenzie even brought this delicious bowl of pasta with all kinds of locally-grown vegetables in it. At first, it seemed like an unnecessary amount, but we devoured it all. We even brought it in the water with us. Wait 30 minutes to swim after eating? HA! Eat, swim and get cramps simultaneously, I say.

The rope swing was obviously the highlight of our secret spot. I was a little apprehensive about it at first and even accidentally let myself go too soon, falling into a fairly shallow spot. Luckily, I landed feet first and immediately pushed myself off the muddy, rocky bottom. I’ve never felt cuter than when I slowly rose to and above the surface as water poured out of my eyes, nose and mouth.
Thankfully, my second attempt was a wondrous success:

The perfect balance of grace and awkwardness.
After we officially wore ourselves out, we headed back to McKenzie’s cabin and proceeded to make the four boxes of macaroni and cheese that I brought in addition to a large cake and a couple dozen cookies Rachel brought. Eventually, it turned into an impromptu party, and we had a great time with new friends.

 

Saturday, I went to Artscape– America’s largest free arts festival– with my dad downtown in Baltimore. We got to hear (but not exactly see) big name bands such as Gov’t Mule and Cold War Kids perform while drinking beer in the streets and checking out the wacky art and vendors.
For just a dollar, you can STAPLE your dollar to this guy!
Tree people enjoying Gov’t Mule
Afterwards, we spent the night listening to now-ancient demos and vocal tracks of the Beach Boys. (Carl Wilson was only 19 when he sang the vocals on “God Only Knows.” How’s that for making you feel unaccomplished?) It was a fun (and these days, rare) father-daughter bonding evening.
Ah, well that was fun. But now I know why I don’t always post a ton of pictures on here. Blogger makes my face want to explode while I attempt (this is the key word) to format them. That was exhausting.
Mmmm, now I’m craving some mac ‘n’ cheese.

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Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: Baltimore, food, friends, music, photoblogging

Lost in translation

June 14, 2010 by Cassie

Charles Simic

Poem

Every morning I forget how it is.

I watch the smoke mount

In great strides above the city.

I belong to no one.

Then, I remember my shoes, how I have to put them on,

How bending over to tie them up

I will look into the earth.

poema

cada mañana olvido cómo es.

miro el humo montar

en grandes pasos grandes sobre la ciudad.

pertenezco a nadie.

entonces, recuerdo mis zapatos, cómo tengo que ponerlos,

cómo dobla encima para atarlos para arriba

miraré en la tierra.

Poème

chaque demain manque de mémoire comment il est.

je surveille la fumée monter

dans de grands grands pas sur la ville.

j’appartiens à à personne.

alors, je rappelle mes chaussures, comment je dois les mettre,

comment il plie en haut pour les attacher pour en haut

je surveillerai dans la terre.

poem

each tomorrow lacks memory how it is.

I supervise smoke to go up

in great great steps on the city.

j’ belong to anybody.

then, I point out my shoes, how I must put them,

how it folds in top to attach them for in top

I will supervise in the ground.

 
Translated at Babel Fish from English to Spanish to French to English.

Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: Charles Simic, language, poetry

Empathy for the people

June 11, 2010 by cassie

McKenzie and I must be on the same wavelength, because empathy has been on both our minds, except she blogged about it first. She posted a really neat video here that explains why human beings even have empathy in the first place and how, like everything does, it has evolved over time. Whereas once upon a time people only empathized with those who shared their blood, people eventually came to empathize with others of the same religious backgrounds and nationalities. The video asks, Can we extend our empathy to the entire human race? And obviously, humankind has showed many signs of doing so in times of disaster and tragedy. Not all times, of course. It’s easy to recall a few years ago when the genocide in Darfur was what many said everyone SHOULD have been paying attention to, yet our own country contributed very little to the aiding of the victims there. The recent Haitian earthquake, however, proved against American heartlessness, as some people even still have not forgotten about the victims there and continue to donate money and efforts to help rebuild the nation despite the fact that it is no longer existent in the media.

The reason this very subject has been on my mind for the past few days is because of a somewhat troubling article I came across. (Read it, and don’t depend on me to summarize it all!) But basically what it says is that Generation Y is less empathetic than previous generations. In fact, Generation Y-ers “are 40% lower in empathy than their counterparts of 20 or 30 years ago.” Isn’t that kind of creepy? The article refers to us (me and probably you, too) as the “Me Generation.” Because, though the video mentioned above says that we’re not primarily soft-wired to be self-indulgent, but rather to want to belong, there is clearly a high level of self-indulgence and narcissism common of people born somewhere between the late ’70s and early ’00s. (Some discrepancy exists over when Gen Y birth dates actually begin and end, but it’s around this time.) The article outlines how this is different from the general disposition of Baby Boomers.

I’ve come across plenty of articles in regard to recent college graduates going into the world with the belief that they actually deserve great jobs and great praise, despite having accomplished very little in the professional world. We as a whole expect others to accommodate our needs and are generally very high maintenance. And I agree– I see a lot of this attitude from my fellow students who expect easy As and want to glide through school as easily as possible. And the danger of it for me is that I believe I’m above all of that kind of attitude, but then doesn’t that belief alone make me susceptible to fitting that description of “us” pretty well, too? Would I then be more likely to go into the “real world” thinking I’m the “real deal” as opposed to my peers and therefore just expect to be handed some awesome job? I mean, kinda. I’ve got a lot to learn, and I know that there’s a lot I don’t know (at least I know that!), but when I listen to the occasionally idiotic conversations going on around me in class, it makes me cringe.

I’m starting to sound awful. I’m also starting to ramble.

Back to the point, though.


Clearly, this has a direct correlation with technology and ever-decreasing face-to-face communication. We are also known as Millennials, after all– the word implies so much. When one has over a thousand Facebook friends, how can one really tell the difference between an acquaintance and an almost complete stranger? This is just one example of technology potentially inhibiting our abilities to maintain genuine personal relationships, but people become greatly desensitized when they’re scanning through a news feed full of people they don’t really care about.

On the other hand, without technology, as, again, the video mentions, we wouldn’t have even known about the Haitian earthquake. Within one hour of the earthquake, the news was tweeted on Twitter. Through this and other media, word spread fast, and we were able to send help almost immediately.

But when a report shows that college students today are less likely to empathize with those less fortunate than they are, what does that say? It can’t all be chalked up to the fact that we’re young and haven’t experienced hardships and tragedies that become inevitable the older we get, because these studies are comparing college students now to college students of the ’70s.

Maybe if our parents hadn’t all given us trophies in soccer despite the fact that some of us never scored a goal all season (ahem, that would be me in second grade), we’d be a little less full of ourselves. Really, though– how often do you see Facebook statuses just begging you to pity that person or describing utterly mundane details of one’s life?

Ultimately, as long as we’re here, the world needs empathy. Without it, the people of the earth would have self-destructed by now. If we didn’t care about people affected by earthquakes and tsunamis, terrorism and oil spills, the world would have undoubtedly shaken off its irritating human inhabitants by now. So I take what I said back: the world doesn’t need empathy, we do. Any human being is crazy (and narcissistic) to believe that we puny humans could really destroy the earth. Yes, we should make our best efforts to take care of it, but the world won’t end because of us. Only we can end because of us. To keep that from happening for as long as possible, it’s important that, on a grander scale than everyday annoyances, we not think of ourselves as better than others, but as connected and relatable to others. Like the video says, we can forget about empathy in heaven, because there, there is no mortality or suffering, and therefore no need for empathy. Just ponies and trees.

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Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: empathy, generation Y, relationships, social networking
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