The Vine: July 17, 2003
In response to “Maybe She’s A…’Tard”‘s letter, I can offer a little extra advice. As a writer who has never managed to complete his degree for similar reasons (though, rather than telling folks I couldn’t settle on a major because I was generally enamored with a ton of subjects, I generally just told people I was attacked by a pack of weasels), I say follow your interest and don’t think that a degree locks you into a career. I say this not just from my writing experience, but from nearly a decade spent as a professional recruiter.
If science and English are fascinating to you, let me tell you that there’s a huge freelance and a huge staff market out there for people who can turn scientific advances into plain English. Look at Scientific American. Look at Modern Science. Look at Scientology Today. Okay, that last one was just for shock value, but there are tons of magazines, trade organizations, PR firms, and newspapers who need writers well-versed in science, especially in the arena of microbiology and the sub-arena of genetics.
I say call up your family, tell them to sit tight on the farm ’cause you’re gonna hang tight until you nab a double major. In the meantime, start freelancing. Get a couple of articles under your belt, for pay or for not. Forget the campus publications — anyone’s throw-rug can get published there. I get published frequently, and I’m not that great a writer. You can do it too, and you’ll be thrilled to see your name in print.
Trampled by Weasels
Dear Weasels,
Science/technical writing is a great way to split the difference here, and it’s true that you degree doesn’t necessarily dictate your career. When my dad (who majored in religion) did intern interviews for his Wall Street firm, he preferred hiring humanities majors; he found that they could think critically and organize their ideas better than econ majors, generally. So, there’s that.
I do have to disagree mildly with your point about campus publications, though — it’s not the most discerning market, it’s true, but if you expect to get freelance work of any value, you need clips, and the best place to rack up clips in college is with the campus publications. I mean, sure, try to get assignments from “real” publications on your own at the same time, but don’t turn up your nose at The Daily Collegian; it’s columns from those papers that get most college writers work on the outside.
Hi Sars! Your innate skill at telling people when and how to push off is my only hope for solving this dilemma.
I am a 29-year-old female and own a small corporate event planning business, planning conventions and conferences across the U.S. As a small business owner trying to build it into a larger company, I try to conduct myself in a professional yet friendly manner. Good manners, light humor, courteous and quick responses are important to me. However, there is a habit I’ve noticed among some people I work with and I don’t know the best way to handle it.
I’m referring to being called “hon.” Or “sweetie,” “honey,” “dear,” or any one of a plethora of nicknames that people use in what they mean to be a friendly manner. It’s usually not men who use them, either (the men I work with know better). It’s women who, after an otherwise professional conversation, sign off by saying, “I’ll get those contracts to you, sweetie!” or, “No problem, hon!”
For the love of Pete, I am not “hon.” I know these women do not mean this in an offensive way. They have somehow managed to get it in their minds that this is an acceptable way to refer to people with whom they work. Once, a woman tried to solicit her accounting services to me, but called me “sweetie” so many times during our conversation I got fed up and told her there was no way I’d give her the job. When asked why, I told her that she was soliciting herself as a professional, and yet didn’t treat me as a professional.
I realize that this is a pet peeve of mine, and that makes it my problem, but it’s a really bloody annoying thing to put up with and I’m trying to think of away to address it without coming across as a neurotic uber-feminist. I work with these people typically for three months before an event, but do not often use the same location twice, so I’m not worried about damaging a business relationship. I am not friends with them, and I expect to be treated in a professional manner.
Since these “hon”-ers probably don’t mean it in an offensive way, I’d like to find some way to bring it to their attention how unprofessional these nicknames sound. How can I express how irritating these nicknames are without coming across as bitchy? Or should I just suck it up and stay silent since I don’t have to work regularly with these people?
Sign me,
That’s “Mrs. Sweetie” to you, bub!
Dear Mrs. Sweetie If You Please,
Okay, before I address the primary issue here…you aren’t using “solicit” correctly. The “sweetie” woman solicited you, not herself; the verb doesn’t take a “to.” I think you meant “tried to offer” in the first instance, and “positioning herself as a professional” (or something like that) in the second.
I don’t get annoyed by “hon” and “sweets” and that kind of thing, so I don’t really know what to tell you. I think it doesn’t bother me because, as long as everything else in the interaction is professional and not condescending, I feel like it’s just a friendliness tic — every diner waitress between here and Baltimore is going to call me “hon,” but if the coffee’s hot, who cares?
In other words, if the “hon”-ers in question behave professionally otherwise, you need to let it go. I run a business too, and I would rather make sure everyone’s hitting their deadlines than waste my energy on whether one of my editors calls me “Stretch,” because if that editor’s check clears, I really don’t care what he calls me.
Hey Sars,
I have a really crap situation at work, and I’m not sure what to do about it. I recently found out that a colleague of mine has been, um, garnishing his salary from the cash box. This has been going on for months and possibly years, and in all he’s probably stolen thousands of dollars. What’s more, he covers up his theft by tampering with receipts that have been done under the names of other co-workers, including me. Management has known about this for some time, but for some reason has chosen to do nothing. I’m not sure if they think they can’t prove it, or if they’re worried about replacing him because he basically runs the office, or what, but nothing’s happened, and as far as I know Captain Stickyfingers has no idea that anyone’s onto him.
Anyway, this has caused me a great deal of heartbreak, because I actually like this guy a lot. He’s entertaining and smart, he’s fun to work with, and he’s never been anything but good to me. We get along great, and I think of him almost as a brother. Or a close cousin, at least. When I learned of his behaviour, it wasn’t exactly a shock, because as much affection as I have for him, I know that he can be arrogant and sneaky and infinitely self-justifying. I think there are a lot of reasons for his stealing: boredom, thrill-seeking, a sense of entitlement, passive-aggression towards management. And although I’m appalled by his unethicalness, I could almost be amused by his delusional belief that he would get away with it. But I can’t help feeling personally betrayed, since the missing money could easily have been blamed on me — and still could, I guess. I’m not really concerned that that will happen, but I do wonder what he would have done if I had been accused.
Until now, I’ve chosen to think that this situation was between CSF and management, and if they weren’t going to blame him then neither should I. But it’s getting harder to ignore every time my supposed friend commits a crime under my name. I have fantasies of confronting him about it, or at least dropping a hint, although that could get me in trouble professionally, and I’m sure he’d be mortified if he knew that I knew. I have to admit that I’m almost relieved that nothing has happened to him. I like working with this guy; he makes a dull job bearable, and I selfishly don’t want him to get fired. I don’t know, though, if I can keep being chummy and going for lunch with him and pretending that nothing’s wrong. Should I stay quiet? Should I say something to him? Or do I have a duty to speak to management and encourage them to take action against him? Any thoughts you have would be appreciated. Thanks so much.
Regards,
Sticky Sidekick
Dear Sticky,
He’s stealing. By not reporting him or asking him to stop, you have abetted that stealing. Why, I don’t understand — no matter how entertaining you find him, I fail to comprehend why you wouldn’t report a situation that could conceivably cost you your own job.
Okay, that’s not true. I do comprehend why you haven’t spoken up — it’s a potentially ugly and awkward situation at best if you take action, and none of us looks forward to that kind of thing, especially at work. But you still need to report him. Don’t confront him first; don’t give him time to come up with a story (which will, I imagine, implicate you). Tell management, or your direct boss, or whomever you ordinarily report to what you know and what you’ve seen — all of it. Do it soon.
You may get fired for not speaking up sooner, but you may get fired if management busts him on their own and finds out that you knew about the theft and did nothing, so speak up anyway. It’s a sucky situation, but you might as well get it over with.
While checking up on celeb fashions, I’ve come across the word “ravishing” several times. Isn’t “ravishing” a derivative of “ravish,” which means to violate? Has “ravishing” gone “gay” (means something completely different than it began)? Is it okay to say “ravishing,” or should it be dropped?
Signed,
Call me “ravishing” and I’ll kick your ass
Dear Call,
Nine-Year-Old Sarah: “What’s for dinner? I am RAVISHING.”
Ma: “Hee! ‘Ravenous,’ Sar. You’re ‘ravenous.’ Hee hee.”
My brand-new Webster’s 11C (woo!) lists “ravishing” as “unusually attractive, pleasing, or striking.” The definition is, of course, directly beneath that for “ravish,” which derives from the Latin rapere, to plunder or rob. However, “ravishing” is not listed within the definition for “ravish,” which suggests to me that, although “ravishing” is obviously a descendant of “ravish,” it is now considered a distant relationship, and “ravishing” does not and need not imply Regency-caliber bodice-ripping or other sexual assault.
If you’d prefer not to use it, don’t use it, but the current definition seems to have evolved completely away from “rape” or “violate.”
Hey Sars,
Here’s something: I don’t necessarily want advice, just an opinion. I’m interested to see what others think about this.
My boyfriend, who I thought was The One, broke up with me a couple of weeks ago, for reasons that, after I recovered from the initial shock of Getting Dumped, I totally understand. I was devastated, inconsolable, and just very very sad. He is a great guy, and he and I have agreed to be friends, since we enjoy each other’s company so much.
Okay. I have had these “but we were going to [insert life plan here: get married, spend our lives together, et cetera] and now that will never happen for us!!” thoughts, and I felt as though I didn’t really have any say in the matter.
We went out to see a movie today; afterwards, we went back to his apartment, and after much discussion, we had breakup sex. It was totally my idea, and now I am completely okay with the breakup — I feel as though I exercised some control in the breakup, like I got to say when it really was “over.” (Yes, I have control issues. But that’s a whole different letter.)
So what do you think? I am just reeling in post-coital bliss? Or does what I’m saying make even the slightest twinge of sense?
Thankee.
Another Sara (no “h,” though)
Dear No “H,”
If you feel okay with it, you feel okay with it. Whatever works for you.
I would have mentioned the “exercised some control in the breakup” phrase even if you hadn’t, but you seem to understand that that’s an issue for you, and if you feel at peace right now, I would try to enjoy it without overthinking it. Why? Because breakups can boomerang — come back around on you when you thought you’d made progress moving past them — and if that happens, which it might, you’ll want to enjoy the days you feel strong when they come along.
Make a note of your reaction to the breakup sex and come back to it later.
Dear Sars,
I’m caught in something of a quandary. First, the dreaded background. I’ll apologise in advance for length.
I met “Patsy” way back in the early nineties. First, we were simply really good friends; then, we fell in love, and were together for several years before the relationship died — more or less of bad timing, but eventually we got over the extremely acrimonious breakup, and are now about as close as two friends can be.
I haven’t known “Joan” nearly so long. Patsy actually introduced us, because she and Joan had become friends, and she basically wanted to include Joan in our little circle. Joan and I got on like a house on fire, and are also now very close.
But Joan and Patsy had a problem: a mutual attraction, which, for reasons relating to neither of them being single, wasn’t exactly a good option for them to follow. They tried fighting it for a long time, briefly succumbed to it, realised their mistake, and have since not repeated it. While I didn’t wholly approve of this situation, I wasn’t about to ditch my friends, and I think their solution wasn’t all bad.
The trouble is, the dalliance, the feelings that provoked it, and the repercussions of it between them have severely damaged their ability to relate to each other on a purely friendly level. It’s not helped by the fact that the attraction isn’t entirely gone.
Recently, they’ve fought again, badly enough that they don’t look like the friendship will necessarily survive it. I feel bad about this for all sorts of reasons: the way it will change the dynamic of my social group; the loss of that great thing the three of us had together; and the fact that the catalyst for the breakdown, and ignition point of the final fight, was me. (Not deliberately, and both of them conclude that it really Isn’t About Me and Isn’t My Fault, but I can’t help having regrets; if I hadn’t unknowingly brought this on, maybe it wouldn’t have happened at all, that sort of thing.)
We’re all mature enough that they’re not dragging me into this; my friendships with both Patsy and Joan are intact, and I’m not getting involved in the current disagreement. We’re even establishing the boundary lines for how their relationships with me can be upheld without impinging on the other. (No fights over who gets custody of the mutual friends, thank God.)
The thing is, I can’t help wanting what the three of us had back. I love them both more than life itself, and I’m sure that they could be the great friends they were before if they could just get past the ramifications of their affair. Even setting aside how much I miss the fun we all had together, I want them to have each other back for the great relationship they had when I wasn’t there, too.
Any suggestions for how this could happen? Or am I just deluding myself thinking that in time, this could work out?
Link in the Chain
Dear Link,
Without knowing exactly what caused the big fight, it’s hard to say exactly, but I think that it could work out, in time — which is both the good news and the bad news.
Here’s why it’s the good news. Sometimes, friendships need a big old We No Longer Speak bridge-burning in order to survive, just to let the respective parties do some growing up and dealing on their own for a while. I became estranged from a very close friend for nearly two years, and it’s not the way I would have chosen to fix what had gone wrong between us; in fact, I sort of figured we never would, and I made my peace with it. But when we got back in touch and got tighter than ever, I realized that the rupture had helped the friendship long-term. We’d both benefited from the break, gotten our shit together in certain key ways, learned to let the little shit go and to talk about the big shit, and so on and so forth. Again, if I had it to do over, I’d have handled it differently, but sometimes people just really need to get, and stay, out of each other’s faces for an extended period and gain some perspective.
So, try to look at it that way — that Joan and Patsy will find a way to let each other back into their lives eventually. That’s the good news.
That’s the good news. The bad news is…”eventually.” If it happens, it’s going to take a while, and how long that while lasts isn’t up to you. It’s hard when friends fracture like that, but it sounds like you’ve made it clear to both of them how you feel about them and that you miss the group and so on. You can’t really do any more than that. You just have to wait it out and not put pressure on Patsy and Joan to get back to the good old days.
And the good old days probably won’t come back, not exactly the way you think of them, but you’ll adjust to that. Just stay friends with them both, and try not to yearn too deeply for what’s in the past.
[7/17/03]
Tags: boys (and girls) etiquette friendships grammar sex workplace
