I saw "Gremlins" when I was a kid, but I watched the DVD version I purchased for $4 a few days ago and it was not the movie I remembered. There seemed to be such depth to the little character Gizmo, who is so much more than just small, adorable, and kind of helpless in a human world where everything is so much bigger than he is.
In the beginning, however, he is not an agent in his own life. He is put inside a box and taken away from Mr. Wing; falls into a garbage can headfirst and has to be rescued and bandaged; and has water spilled on him which, in addition to creating more mogwais, seems to sting and burn him. If he underwent his metamorphosis and became a full-fledged gremlin, these things would not be happening to him. He would have all the capabilities we see in the scaly monsters later on in the movie. But even when he's offered chicken, Gizmo refuses and lets the opportunity to become bigger (and badder) pass by him. He makes a choice - presumably one that he has made more than once - to remain in what is essentially a larval stage.
Gizmo also helps kill other gremlins, which left me wondering: How does he feel about his own capacity to become just as cunning, murderous, and evil? Is he a happy little singing mogwai all the time, or is he sometimes sad that he carries with him the ability to turn into a gremlin?
Perhaps, but perhaps not. By the end of "Gremlins", our mogwai has gotten a bit tired of being hauled around in a backpack and decides to take matters into his own hands (paws?). He skillfully drives a toy car into a greenhouse to outmaneuver the gremlin mastermind Stripe, whom he manages to fatally wound with direct sunlight. Move aside, humans. The inches-tall rubber puppet is the true hero of this movie, proving to himself that he doesn't need to be bigger or badder in order to be the one who saves the day.
Even before I had seen Gizmo, when he was burbling and singing to himself in the back of the store in his little box, I was kind of enchanted. I wanted there to be more to him than just big round eyes and a vocabulary that included "light bright!" for any brilliant light source and "woof woof!" for dogs. So I'm very glad that he got his own character arc and could grow and change as the movie progressed - a metamorphosis entirely of his own choosing, and just as powerful as the one the gremlins undergo.
Showing posts with label personal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label personal. Show all posts
Monday, August 17, 2015
Sunday, June 26, 2011
The right pair makes all the difference...
When my good friend Holly walked in, I could tell right away that something was different. A new pair of glasses - a beautiful wrought-metal frame. After admiring them, I asked (perhaps rudely) how much they had cost. After all, my own most recent pair would have been unaffordable if not for health insurance.
Holly's answer surprised me. She said that the frames were from the 1950s, and she had purchased them through an online antique site for just $40. The prescription lenses that were in the frame when it arrived didn't match Holly's needs, so she ordered lenses to be cut to fit the frame, in her prescription.
For people like me who require thicker lenses for special conditions, just up and ordering any pair of glasses isn't possible. But frames can cost over $200, and if I was able to find the right frame, why couldn't I get an inexpensive one and only pay for the lenses?
Let's see if I can look as good as Professor Tiger up there. Next time I need a new pair of glasses, I'll be looking online first.
Image courtesy of gabetarian | sxc.hu
Friday, March 11, 2011
I'm Pumped, Proud & a little Paranoid
My ten minutes of fame went by in a blur. I wasn't nervous or unhappy. I knew what I wanted to say, and I hope I spoke calmly and with conviction. That morning, my stomach had been a tangle of nerves, but the instant I spoke into the mic I felt the tangle vanish. I was a little paranoid about what could go wrong, but once I got to that podium, I knew I was in control.
Today, Friday, is the finale for the Class of 2011 Independent Professional Project Presentations in CreComm. Two very talented classmates of mine, Jasmine and Erika, have been working to make the whole thing happen - alongside 59 other presentations showcasing the best of what we, the about-to-graduate students, can do.
Each time I hear a classmate's name announced, I'm so happy to watch them take their place under the spotlight to tell me about their journey to that podium. Since the projects are, for the most part, independent (really, I don't think any of us did EVERYTHING ourselves), I'm not familiar with each project from beginning to end, and listening to how bravely my peers struggled and planned to reach the finish line is inspiring. I'm excited. I'm on the edge of my seat. I clap, I cheer until I've lost my voice.
I'm so proud of what we've all accomplished, alongside our regular homework, family lives, and even jobs. Way to go, everyone.
(For those who would like to attend the finale at the Convention Centre later today, tickets are "the low, low price of free", to quote my Advertising instructor.)
Today, Friday, is the finale for the Class of 2011 Independent Professional Project Presentations in CreComm. Two very talented classmates of mine, Jasmine and Erika, have been working to make the whole thing happen - alongside 59 other presentations showcasing the best of what we, the about-to-graduate students, can do.
Each time I hear a classmate's name announced, I'm so happy to watch them take their place under the spotlight to tell me about their journey to that podium. Since the projects are, for the most part, independent (really, I don't think any of us did EVERYTHING ourselves), I'm not familiar with each project from beginning to end, and listening to how bravely my peers struggled and planned to reach the finish line is inspiring. I'm excited. I'm on the edge of my seat. I clap, I cheer until I've lost my voice.
I'm so proud of what we've all accomplished, alongside our regular homework, family lives, and even jobs. Way to go, everyone.
(For those who would like to attend the finale at the Convention Centre later today, tickets are "the low, low price of free", to quote my Advertising instructor.)
Friday, March 4, 2011
Plus ca change...
As I was finishing up the video for my IPP, I thought I'd best show it to my mother and grandfather (the latter of whom is one of the two stars in the vid). My grandfather smiled delightedly as he watched himself onscreen, and my mother -
Well, my mother began to cry.
When I asked her why she was so upset, she told me that I was lucky to have my whole life in front of me, because that was her past on the screen: hers and her father's. "You have the future," she told me. "We only have the past."
Today, my mother was a witness at her father's remarriage. Looking at the photos of the happy couple, 83 and 85 years young, I thought to myself that they didn't look like people who only had the past. They were counting on a future together, too.
And later on today, as I read my classmate Amanda Hope's novel about her great aunt Rose (it's called Pieces, folks, and you should all go read it), I saw yet another example of a woman who continued to move forward her whole life, ready for the next adventure, never losing hope.
That's why I wrote my IPP. To show what amazing, forward-thinking people accomplished in order to get us to where we are now - and to remind us to always look forward and hope for a future, whether we're thinking two decades, two months, or two weeks ahead.
Well, my mother began to cry.
When I asked her why she was so upset, she told me that I was lucky to have my whole life in front of me, because that was her past on the screen: hers and her father's. "You have the future," she told me. "We only have the past."
Today, my mother was a witness at her father's remarriage. Looking at the photos of the happy couple, 83 and 85 years young, I thought to myself that they didn't look like people who only had the past. They were counting on a future together, too.
And later on today, as I read my classmate Amanda Hope's novel about her great aunt Rose (it's called Pieces, folks, and you should all go read it), I saw yet another example of a woman who continued to move forward her whole life, ready for the next adventure, never losing hope.
That's why I wrote my IPP. To show what amazing, forward-thinking people accomplished in order to get us to where we are now - and to remind us to always look forward and hope for a future, whether we're thinking two decades, two months, or two weeks ahead.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Yup, it done broke.
I was so excited to get to school on Monday, I broke my ankle.
Let me rephrase that. I was walking faster than I should have on one of Winterpeg's typically icy intersections, and I fell. As I fell, something twisted in my leg, and by the time I hit the ground, I knew something was seriously wrong. A construction worker helping to fix the lights at the intersection saw me, and ran out into the street to help me hobble to safety. And when he and I were standing on the boulevard, we watched a car that was unable to stop as it slid into a bus. When the car's driver stepped out to examine his car, HE fell on the ice, too! It was a REALLY icy intersection.
Because I was in shock - i.e. dizzy, blurred vision, wanting to sleep or throw up, loss of hearing - the construction crew thought I had hit my head. They called me an ambulance, and said I had a broken ankle and a head injury. So the paramedics came and strapped me to a spine board. I couldn't move, which was fine because I didn't really want to. I was kept in the hospital all day, first to determine whether or not I'd hit my head (I hadn't) and then to determine whether or not the breaks (yes, I broke the ankle in two places) required surgery. In the end, they decided I didn't require immediate surgery, but that I have to go back next week to check again.
They want to put a plate and some pins into my ankle, if I don't heal miraculously in a week.
This has meant a lot of changes for me. I can't go home, because my apartment is up 4 flights of stairs and the building has no elevator. I'm weak and in pain, and not good enough yet with crutches. So my parents have kindly taken me in, and my boyfriend is left to man the fort alone.
Also, I haven't really ever been in this much pain. I'm told I have a high pain threshold, because other injuries like a dislocated shoulder and a fractured tailbone haven't bothered me much. THIS hurts like hell, and I am allergic to every painkiller the hospital suggested, so I am making do with basic Motrin. The I-wanna-vomit sensation whenever my ankle twitches or comes up against something is awful. People with chronic pain - how do you stand it?
I'm lucky. Really lucky. I could have hit my head. I could have fallen at an intersection where there was no one else around, at which point I probably would have been hit by a car. I could have still been in the intersection when that car hit that bus, which wouldn't be so good for me either. And if I'd been admitted on my own instead of by ambulance, it would have taken even longer for me to be seen, X-rayed, and casted. I'm still under 30, so my chances of healing are pretty good...IF I keep my ankle still.
They suggested a week, to get the healing process started. They gave me a doctor's note. But what about CRECOMM?!?!?! I'm worried I'll fall behind.
If you want to read a better post about breaking an ankle in CreComm, Laura Kunzelman has it covered here.
For now, I'll be hoping my instructors get back to me so I can form a plan of how to get back into the swing of CreComm before and after a potential operation.
Let me rephrase that. I was walking faster than I should have on one of Winterpeg's typically icy intersections, and I fell. As I fell, something twisted in my leg, and by the time I hit the ground, I knew something was seriously wrong. A construction worker helping to fix the lights at the intersection saw me, and ran out into the street to help me hobble to safety. And when he and I were standing on the boulevard, we watched a car that was unable to stop as it slid into a bus. When the car's driver stepped out to examine his car, HE fell on the ice, too! It was a REALLY icy intersection.
Because I was in shock - i.e. dizzy, blurred vision, wanting to sleep or throw up, loss of hearing - the construction crew thought I had hit my head. They called me an ambulance, and said I had a broken ankle and a head injury. So the paramedics came and strapped me to a spine board. I couldn't move, which was fine because I didn't really want to. I was kept in the hospital all day, first to determine whether or not I'd hit my head (I hadn't) and then to determine whether or not the breaks (yes, I broke the ankle in two places) required surgery. In the end, they decided I didn't require immediate surgery, but that I have to go back next week to check again.
They want to put a plate and some pins into my ankle, if I don't heal miraculously in a week.
This has meant a lot of changes for me. I can't go home, because my apartment is up 4 flights of stairs and the building has no elevator. I'm weak and in pain, and not good enough yet with crutches. So my parents have kindly taken me in, and my boyfriend is left to man the fort alone.
Also, I haven't really ever been in this much pain. I'm told I have a high pain threshold, because other injuries like a dislocated shoulder and a fractured tailbone haven't bothered me much. THIS hurts like hell, and I am allergic to every painkiller the hospital suggested, so I am making do with basic Motrin. The I-wanna-vomit sensation whenever my ankle twitches or comes up against something is awful. People with chronic pain - how do you stand it?
I'm lucky. Really lucky. I could have hit my head. I could have fallen at an intersection where there was no one else around, at which point I probably would have been hit by a car. I could have still been in the intersection when that car hit that bus, which wouldn't be so good for me either. And if I'd been admitted on my own instead of by ambulance, it would have taken even longer for me to be seen, X-rayed, and casted. I'm still under 30, so my chances of healing are pretty good...IF I keep my ankle still.
They suggested a week, to get the healing process started. They gave me a doctor's note. But what about CRECOMM?!?!?! I'm worried I'll fall behind.
If you want to read a better post about breaking an ankle in CreComm, Laura Kunzelman has it covered here.
For now, I'll be hoping my instructors get back to me so I can form a plan of how to get back into the swing of CreComm before and after a potential operation.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Recently Deceased Foliage = Romantic?
With Valentine's Day just around the corner, I join many puzzled friends wondering what to get my significant other to truly demonstrate the depth of my relief that he hasn't left me yet. (Just kidding - I trust him. I do want to find something that shows how wonderful I think he is, though!) At the same time, I begin to puzzle over whether or not I will receive something that my s/o has similarly agonized over - and if that something will include flowers.
When he and I first met, a hazy eight years ago, I ranted at length about despising flowers - and then cooed like a little bird over the two long-stemmed roses he handed over the next Feb. 14. I must have appeared to be completely won over by said flowers - I even dried and saved them for many years before the vacuum cleaner ate them.
But fresh-cut flowers are a dilemma, at least in my mind. Are they friendly to the environment? It would seem not. Do they have an enduring value? Nefarious vacuum cleaners aside, they can be dried and saved, but this doesn't retain much of the way they looked when fresh. Do they rot if neglected? Absolutely, and that's not very romantic.
So, to the three people who read this blog: I open it up to you. Do you give/receive flowers? Why? Do you want to receive flowers? Why/why not?
As for me: While writing this post, I've come to the conclusion that I don't want to rain on his parade. Anything - or nothing - is fine. The best Valentine's Day gift will be to just spend time with him.
Maybe we'll go buy some flowers.
When he and I first met, a hazy eight years ago, I ranted at length about despising flowers - and then cooed like a little bird over the two long-stemmed roses he handed over the next Feb. 14. I must have appeared to be completely won over by said flowers - I even dried and saved them for many years before the vacuum cleaner ate them.
But fresh-cut flowers are a dilemma, at least in my mind. Are they friendly to the environment? It would seem not. Do they have an enduring value? Nefarious vacuum cleaners aside, they can be dried and saved, but this doesn't retain much of the way they looked when fresh. Do they rot if neglected? Absolutely, and that's not very romantic.
So, to the three people who read this blog: I open it up to you. Do you give/receive flowers? Why? Do you want to receive flowers? Why/why not?
As for me: While writing this post, I've come to the conclusion that I don't want to rain on his parade. Anything - or nothing - is fine. The best Valentine's Day gift will be to just spend time with him.
Maybe we'll go buy some flowers.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Hurt or Inert?
I bought myself a blue exercise ball years ago, fully intending to take up Pilates and stop shelling out excessive amounts of money on gym membership fees. The ball itself cost only $40 and came with a Pilates DVD, plus there are all sorts of Pilates demonstration videos on the Internet. I thought this was perfect.
My exercise ball has since served two purposes: to gather dust, and to seat the occasional guest to my apartment when I run out of actual chairs. My gym membership has been cancelled, but only so that I can become a desk chair potato, one who spends her time doing homework and such, but gets nowhere near enough exercise.
So how's this for a post-birthday resolution: I will make sure that the exercise ball is not a waste of money. I will push aside the living room furniture so that I have enough space to do Pilates, or exercise ball sit-ups, or whatever the latest exercise ball fad happens to be.
Just as soon as I figure out where I've stowed all my gym gear.
My exercise ball has since served two purposes: to gather dust, and to seat the occasional guest to my apartment when I run out of actual chairs. My gym membership has been cancelled, but only so that I can become a desk chair potato, one who spends her time doing homework and such, but gets nowhere near enough exercise.
So how's this for a post-birthday resolution: I will make sure that the exercise ball is not a waste of money. I will push aside the living room furniture so that I have enough space to do Pilates, or exercise ball sit-ups, or whatever the latest exercise ball fad happens to be.
Just as soon as I figure out where I've stowed all my gym gear.
Friday, October 8, 2010
Spend the least - look the most!
I love playing hostess. Tonight and tomorrow I will be making my new home spotless for weekend visitors, and decorating excitedly in preparation. I have borrowed most of what I don't have from my parents, including extra folding chairs. I'll be wearing a second-hand little black dress. All so I can pay for what really matters...
A $65 bottle of champagne to celebrate my champagne birthday.
=D
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.
A $65 bottle of champagne to celebrate my champagne birthday.
=D
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
iHope I Can, iHope I Can!
Let's be friends?
I have a bit of a problem.
You see, as a busy second-year CreComm student, juggling an IPP with homework assignments, a blog, and squeezing in a personal life (which scant free time mostly consists of chores and a distracted "bye, honey!" as I tear out the door in the morning), I've found I really do need a smartphone. I could update my blog from the bus, do homework almost anywhere (but never in class!) and respond to the many emails I now receive as interim News Director for 92.9 KICK FM.
My small problem becomes a bigger one when I consider that I have an existing, regular phone contract. There's a year and 4 months remaining on said contract, meaning I will owe to my wireless provider either the monthly cost of the phone, or $200. I owe whichever is the smaller amount, but that's shaping up to be a tidy sum for a student trying to cover books, living expenses, and transportation.
Then there's entering into a new contract. I have my eye on Rogers and an iPhone, but that won't be cheap either. Data plans start at $25/mo and go as high as $60/mo, and that's without factoring in the cost of a phone. The 3GS is $99.99 and that's not even the latest model. The iPhone 4 with 16GB is $159.00, and the 32GB version is $269.00. There must be student plans, I'm sure, but if all goes well, I will graduate in 2011 and be a student no longer.
If I can find someone to take over my existing plan, that will cover some of the cost of the phone, but not the data plan. How much data will I use? Once I'm locked into a contract, can I pay for less if I don't use the full capacity I'm paying for? Can I upgrade? Will I even know what to do with an iPhone if/when I have one?
iHope I can!
Image courtesy rogers.ca
Friday, April 9, 2010
I just put them down for a second, I SWEAR
In the fall of 2009, I was the proud owner of six pairs of mitts - three of which used to belong to my grandmother. Now, as Winnipeg moves into spring, I am the owner of three pairs - one of which doesn't count because they're some kind of opera gloves, and they don't block the cold very well. Yep, I'm one of those people who loses her mitts. Frequently. One pair went missing on the bus. One pair was given away to a very chilly DOMO gas employee on a miserably cold day. But one pair seems to have simply vanished. That makes me sad, because that was the grey pair I'm pretty sure my grandma knit for herself.
Maybe knitting can solve my problem? I inherited a bunch of yarn and knitting books from the same grandmother who used to own the grey mitts and the opera gloves. She learned to knit in school at age six, and knit through illness and injury up until a month before her death - she'd said she wanted to knit all her yarn into mittens for the homeless before she died. She did it. A massive shoebox with over 30 pairs of mitts was donated. Grandma was special and wonderful, and when I knit and cook and sew, I think of her. But I can't knit gloves. Or mitts. Or can I?
It's true, most gloves and mitts aren't expensive. The stretchy synthetic ones that I gave away cost me 99 cents at Superstore. But if I want to spend nothing at all, and feel accomplished at the same time, maybe it's time for me to use supplies I already own and start knitting mitts, or at least trying.
Pictures to follow?
Maybe knitting can solve my problem? I inherited a bunch of yarn and knitting books from the same grandmother who used to own the grey mitts and the opera gloves. She learned to knit in school at age six, and knit through illness and injury up until a month before her death - she'd said she wanted to knit all her yarn into mittens for the homeless before she died. She did it. A massive shoebox with over 30 pairs of mitts was donated. Grandma was special and wonderful, and when I knit and cook and sew, I think of her. But I can't knit gloves. Or mitts. Or can I?
It's true, most gloves and mitts aren't expensive. The stretchy synthetic ones that I gave away cost me 99 cents at Superstore. But if I want to spend nothing at all, and feel accomplished at the same time, maybe it's time for me to use supplies I already own and start knitting mitts, or at least trying.
Pictures to follow?
Friday, March 12, 2010
Thrifty IPPs
IPPs are not cheap. A lot of time, money, thought and work goes into creating a finished professional-looking project that the creator can be proud of. After three days of IPPs, here are my observations:
Freaking out: $$$$$$$$$
Losing data: TIMETIMETIME
Not seeing friends, family, significant others: STRESSTRESS
Being finished, and looking down at a finished product that you created: priceless.
Sometimes, it's just worth it. :)
Freaking out: $$$$$$$$$
Losing data: TIMETIMETIME
Not seeing friends, family, significant others: STRESSTRESS
Being finished, and looking down at a finished product that you created: priceless.
Sometimes, it's just worth it. :)
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Some stats (off topic)
In the new year - ketchup, baking soda, salt, and so much more! What CAN you use potatoes for? Stay tuned!
At the beginning of September, this blog was an assignment. Then it became an obligation. Now it has faded into a comfortable routine. "Oh, it's a new week! Time for a new blog!" If you read this blog, I encourage you to post a comment just to say hello. :)
This blog assignment came with a mandate of post lengths, which I'm pleased to say I fulfilled without conscious thought. Here are the final stats:
5 posts 50-200 words long:
1. Intro - 126
2. Save locally! - 191
3. Avon Bubble Bath - 90
4. Save - 50% off all clothing! - 95
5. Tweet! Tweet! Tweet! - 159
5 posts 200-500 words long:
1. DRANO? Why?! - 243
2. Tip Blitz! - 448
3. Thrifty Living with Bart Philips - 356
4. Thanks Mom! (And Dad, and Grandma...) - 284
5. Readers Respond - PLUS a bonus website! - 230
6. Attitude (OFF TOPIC) - 488
7. TEXTBOOK COMFORT INDEX - 483
8. Student Bottomless Passes!!! - 255
9. Mother Nature Saves City Lots of Money - 247
10. Cheap ways to de-stress! - 406
5 posts 500+ words long:
1. Stain Removal! - 794
2. Ink on Suede; Salt - 597
3. It's Clothes that Make the Professional? (OFF TOPIC) - 606
4. Buyer Beware - of Flimsy Coffee Tumblers! - 615
5. My (So-Far) Adventures in a Blogging Wonderland - 936
6. The Great "Used" Debate - 818
I won't count this post, or future posts, but expect this to remain a 'scrapbook' of the information I find pertinent to savings! Feel free to contribute your own tips!
And thank you for sharing the opening scenes of this adventure with me. :)
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Tweet tweet! (off topic)
There are 25 people following @DanielleConolly on Twitter. I feel so loved!
When Twitter first appeared, I had no idea what it could possibly do for me. Ditto Facebook. Why on earth would I want to spend all my time reading inane messages from people I already talk to anyway?
Was I ever wrong!
Not only am I enjoying tweets from classmates, ranging from "im so lost, this is scary" to "Hello to all, I'm part of the Twitter word!", but I'm also 'following' people I never thought I could have 'conversations' with, such as Jian Ghomeshi and George Stromboulopoulos. I can't even begin to describe the joy of reconnecting with former classmates and out-of-town family via Facebook. And the possibilities of connecting with other amazing people -- professionals in my desired field(s) of employment; humanitarians I admire; future employers; etc. -- are almost endless.
So - hi everyone! Welcome to my Twitter feed! Let's hope for minimal spam.
When Twitter first appeared, I had no idea what it could possibly do for me. Ditto Facebook. Why on earth would I want to spend all my time reading inane messages from people I already talk to anyway?
Was I ever wrong!
Not only am I enjoying tweets from classmates, ranging from "im so lost, this is scary" to "Hello to all, I'm part of the Twitter word!", but I'm also 'following' people I never thought I could have 'conversations' with, such as Jian Ghomeshi and George Stromboulopoulos. I can't even begin to describe the joy of reconnecting with former classmates and out-of-town family via Facebook. And the possibilities of connecting with other amazing people -- professionals in my desired field(s) of employment; humanitarians I admire; future employers; etc. -- are almost endless.
So - hi everyone! Welcome to my Twitter feed! Let's hope for minimal spam.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
It's Clothes that Make the Professional? (OFF TOPIC!)
I guess this is off-topic week here at Thrift Odyssey, while I try to do some research on replacing my near-defunct laptop (so that I'll have something to post that's more relevant to the blog theme!). In the meantime, here's a post inspired by a discussion with my brother.
Waiting for a bus one day, I saw a young woman approaching. She wore a pair of those fashionable aviator shades, reasonable heels, run-free hose, a nice black skirt and shirt and a business blazer; her hair was impeccable. As she walked by me I thought, "That is a very professional look."
Until I saw the back of the knee-length skirt, that is. The slit ran nearly the full length of the skirt, threatening to turn into a wardrobe malfunction. She continued along the sidewalk and I was left with a different impression entirely: "Now that just tears down how professional the outfit is."
With outlets like Twitter, Facebook, and YouTube, people have become used to increased freedom of expression, true. But regardless of how others perceive you based on your online presence, your physical presence still counts for a lot. For example, I know my frizzy hair is a going concern because, just like that skirt, it subconsciously suggests to other people that I do not put a lot of thought into how others assess my appearance. And if I'm not taking care of myself, would a reasonable employer believe that I would take care of their business? For good or ill, first impressions still count for so much, and standards still exist for what constitutes a professional appearance and what does not. Is it shallow? Maybe. Is it fair? Maybe not. Is it a reality? Definitely, and even if no one says anything outright to the lady in the skirt, that skirt is changing the way people think about her.
As students, whether or not we are working while at school, the idea of professionalism is nothing new. In my first few days at Red River College, I was bombarded with messages about my professional career having started on orientation day, and how I should treat my time here as though it is a job. Should I, then, be dressing as though I am showing up to a high-profile job rather than appearing haggard, water bottle in hand, at the door of a classroom, wearing ratty jeans and sneakers?
My brother, a student at the University of Manitoba, disagrees. "I'm for a more relaxed dress code, where you should wear a reasonable amount of clothing and have nothing offensive," he told me. He suggests that comfort and professionalism should be able to meet in the middle, with no one needing to wear a full suit or starched blazer everyday but at the same time understanding that unwashed hair and shirts full of holes are unacceptable. "I don't think a professional style of dress begets a professional attitude or a professional anything else," he said. "Sure, it can encourage such [an] attitude, but it certainly doesn't preclude one."
Some workplaces try for a balance. One of my previous employers permitted jeans and t-shirts (though without words of any kind) to be worn on Fridays; another company I've heard of has a Pyjama Day on which bathrobes, fuzzy slippers, and tasteful flannel duds are permitted. The argument here, as my brother puts it, is that " it keeps the atmosphere light, which [employees] work very well in."
While the issue of dress codes is still up for debate, one thing remains certain - appearance is among the most important things on which a first impression is based.
Waiting for a bus one day, I saw a young woman approaching. She wore a pair of those fashionable aviator shades, reasonable heels, run-free hose, a nice black skirt and shirt and a business blazer; her hair was impeccable. As she walked by me I thought, "That is a very professional look."
Until I saw the back of the knee-length skirt, that is. The slit ran nearly the full length of the skirt, threatening to turn into a wardrobe malfunction. She continued along the sidewalk and I was left with a different impression entirely: "Now that just tears down how professional the outfit is."
With outlets like Twitter, Facebook, and YouTube, people have become used to increased freedom of expression, true. But regardless of how others perceive you based on your online presence, your physical presence still counts for a lot. For example, I know my frizzy hair is a going concern because, just like that skirt, it subconsciously suggests to other people that I do not put a lot of thought into how others assess my appearance. And if I'm not taking care of myself, would a reasonable employer believe that I would take care of their business? For good or ill, first impressions still count for so much, and standards still exist for what constitutes a professional appearance and what does not. Is it shallow? Maybe. Is it fair? Maybe not. Is it a reality? Definitely, and even if no one says anything outright to the lady in the skirt, that skirt is changing the way people think about her.
As students, whether or not we are working while at school, the idea of professionalism is nothing new. In my first few days at Red River College, I was bombarded with messages about my professional career having started on orientation day, and how I should treat my time here as though it is a job. Should I, then, be dressing as though I am showing up to a high-profile job rather than appearing haggard, water bottle in hand, at the door of a classroom, wearing ratty jeans and sneakers?
My brother, a student at the University of Manitoba, disagrees. "I'm for a more relaxed dress code, where you should wear a reasonable amount of clothing and have nothing offensive," he told me. He suggests that comfort and professionalism should be able to meet in the middle, with no one needing to wear a full suit or starched blazer everyday but at the same time understanding that unwashed hair and shirts full of holes are unacceptable. "I don't think a professional style of dress begets a professional attitude or a professional anything else," he said. "Sure, it can encourage such [an] attitude, but it certainly doesn't preclude one."
Some workplaces try for a balance. One of my previous employers permitted jeans and t-shirts (though without words of any kind) to be worn on Fridays; another company I've heard of has a Pyjama Day on which bathrobes, fuzzy slippers, and tasteful flannel duds are permitted. The argument here, as my brother puts it, is that " it keeps the atmosphere light, which [employees] work very well in."
While the issue of dress codes is still up for debate, one thing remains certain - appearance is among the most important things on which a first impression is based.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Attitude (OFF TOPIC)
I think this is important, so I've 'reprinted' it from a personal journal that I keep. It's an issue that's close to my heart, you could say, so I feel it's safe for me to veer a bit off-topic and share it with you.
I have this mug that says "Attitude is a small thing that makes a big difference." I have to agree, especially after one day last week, when I ran into a girl I went to university with. I remember the two of us attending a symposium on the environment when we were in second-year political science courses together. But where she is now successfully working for the government, I am still trying to get an article on the environment published in the campus paper (so far, without success. It really is hard to get published! Well, at least if you're me.)
I'm finding myself a bit discouraged. Here I've quit a full-time job with the idea that "This is where I want to go in life, and where I'm meant to go in life" and there are so many small roadblocks surreptitiously piling into a haystack. And while I'm perfectly well aware that the universe can only bend so far over backwards for any one person, that doesn't mean I'm going to greet every disappointment with an, "Aw shucks, another one? Rejection just makes my day!"
Or should I? How else will I learn? If no one points this stuff out to me now while I'm still on training ground, do I really want to be dismissed for it later on in life? I want to be able to land on the padded stuff a few times before I actually have to skydive out of the plane. But that's the difference, isn't it? Attitude. If my attitude is ruled by fear, I take tiny steps and don't really get anywhere. The attitude of the former classmate I saw is ruled by confidence, and so she happily steps into the unknown, relying on herself and her ability to network in order to get her through the tough spots. And, of course, allowing herself to make mistakes without self-flagellation afterwards.
I guess that's key. I have to admit to myself right now that I cannot and should not take myself so seriously. Inevitably I will screw up, but as long as that screwing up helps me to catch on, I can recover from my falls - if fans can forgive Kanye West and Serena Williams, surely I can be forgiven if/when I hit the wrong button during a board-op session, or stumble out of the gate instead of performing with flying colours on my first journalism assignments. I know it's not the end of the world, I'm not saving babies here. I just need to have a little faith in myself - and apply a LOT of elbow grease.
Comments, criticism, and "stop whining" all accepted!
I have this mug that says "Attitude is a small thing that makes a big difference." I have to agree, especially after one day last week, when I ran into a girl I went to university with. I remember the two of us attending a symposium on the environment when we were in second-year political science courses together. But where she is now successfully working for the government, I am still trying to get an article on the environment published in the campus paper (so far, without success. It really is hard to get published! Well, at least if you're me.)
I'm finding myself a bit discouraged. Here I've quit a full-time job with the idea that "This is where I want to go in life, and where I'm meant to go in life" and there are so many small roadblocks surreptitiously piling into a haystack. And while I'm perfectly well aware that the universe can only bend so far over backwards for any one person, that doesn't mean I'm going to greet every disappointment with an, "Aw shucks, another one? Rejection just makes my day!"
Or should I? How else will I learn? If no one points this stuff out to me now while I'm still on training ground, do I really want to be dismissed for it later on in life? I want to be able to land on the padded stuff a few times before I actually have to skydive out of the plane. But that's the difference, isn't it? Attitude. If my attitude is ruled by fear, I take tiny steps and don't really get anywhere. The attitude of the former classmate I saw is ruled by confidence, and so she happily steps into the unknown, relying on herself and her ability to network in order to get her through the tough spots. And, of course, allowing herself to make mistakes without self-flagellation afterwards.
I guess that's key. I have to admit to myself right now that I cannot and should not take myself so seriously. Inevitably I will screw up, but as long as that screwing up helps me to catch on, I can recover from my falls - if fans can forgive Kanye West and Serena Williams, surely I can be forgiven if/when I hit the wrong button during a board-op session, or stumble out of the gate instead of performing with flying colours on my first journalism assignments. I know it's not the end of the world, I'm not saving babies here. I just need to have a little faith in myself - and apply a LOT of elbow grease.
Comments, criticism, and "stop whining" all accepted!
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