Tuesday, October 10, 2006

The Purchase of a Pantsuit: Your Youth is Officially Over

Ok, so I won't be wearing the red tie and vest combo, but basically, much like the picture to the left, I will be nerd central.

Let's back track.

Parent's Weekend creeped up on me just as application deadlines for internships in the Spring '07 semester did. Taking advantage of my mother's love of shopping, we went in pursuit (get it? purSUIT? I'm so witty) of a pantsuit that I can wear to interviews and subsequent jobs.

There I was, in the Anne Klein section of Macy's, when I realized that my youth was over. I was at the bar the night before, posing for pictures with a guy dressed up as a giant Miller Lite can (as part of a promotion scheme- I hope, anyway), and the very next morning all of my youth was sucked away and bunched up into the form of two hideous, bulky shoulder pads.

Ok, so maybe I'm being a little melodramatic, and it is actually a very nice suit, but something about the very word "suit" means that I'm growing up.

Something I can bank on, though, is that writers are known for being notoriously bad dressers. Hopefully, I'll enter the office of my internship overdressed in my workin' girl suit and realize that everyone is wearing polo shirts and jeans. That would be my dream job.


Steve Forbes, are you fo' real?

I've never been one to shy away from acknowledging my own narcissism, in fact, I've always celebrated it. Hooray!

The most modern exercise in narcissism is "googling" yourself. If you google my name you'll get a link to this blog, a link to my account at, hundreds of links to an article I wrote freshman year with an overzealous friend who got it syndicated in every blog from here to Timbuktu, and some stories about a certain other Amanda with the same last name helping people get through their cancer treatments with "positive packs." I'm pretty sure I don't have to tell you that this Amanda is not me. You see, unlike the girl who bears my namesake, I measure "success" by how much money I make and how many people know my name, while she presumably measures success by how many cancer patients she's helped and how many children she's taught how to ride bicycles without training wheels. I know it sounds quaint, but seriously, the real world's knocking. Just kidding! I've spoken with the other girl who bares my namesake and as creepy as that sounds, we're friendly with each other via the wacky world of internet networking sites.

Anyway, the other day I googled myself, and I found some interesting new links.

Apparently, if you search for the word "jerk" on, you'll get a myriad of different books on the subject. How to Work for a Jerk, How to Become a Soda Jerk, Jerk Chicken: BBQ from Jamaica, Joint Custody with a Jerk: Raising Children With an Uncooperative Ex. I could go on, but these seem interesting enough. In the mix, is my book. Cute, right?

The other new site I found was the
Forbes Book Club. They state on the top of their site that it's the "homepage for the world's business leaders." Search for my book, and you'll find it for sale on their site alongside Jim Cramer's Real Money: Sane Investing in an Insane World, and Steve Forbe's Flat Tax Revolution: Using a Postcard to Abolish the IRS. Basically, I would like to know why I'm on a site for the "world's business leaders." Also, I'd like to know why my college's Internship Coordinator is so sure that I won't get an internship even though I'm listed as a SOURCE FOR THE "WORLD'S BUSINESS LEADERS." Got that, Mr. PhD? Not just America, the WORLD. Someone businessman over in Russia is reading my book and gaining some much needed perspective on how to pull his country out of decades of dismal economics.

You know, I'm not one to toot my own horn, but I'm pretty sure that I'm going to be a contributing factor on wiping out Third World Debt.