In need of rescue

GM filed for bankruptcy today (shocker). I will know own about 60% of this fantastic company, which as of yesterday, stocks closed at about 75 cents. The world is in turmoil, more and more companies are going under, the job market is terrible ( I can personally attest to this), and as we skate further away from the messages of "hope" from the past election, many Americans, myself included, seemingly are in need of some rescue.

It was after watching a re-run of an episode of Sex and the City, that it dawned on me that women tend to need some rescuing from time to time. Whether is be from their current relationship, their singledom, or themselves, women tend to be in need of a good white knight every once in a while. We all secretly hope that some gorgeous man, with the perfect job, in some storybook meeting, comes to our rescue, and helps us to see the light and be better people. We typically classify these people as boyfriends.

It would seem that boyfriends, and our President aren't that much different. In both cases, women look to these men to be rescued. Rescued from our self-created tragedies which we have become so engulfed in, we can't seem to pull ourselves out. We expect a man to make us better, we expect our President to help us out of this economic mess, and as women, we hopefully sit by and watch them work their magic.

It would seem that in the days since the election the economy hasn't gotten better, but worse, that our boyfriends, or whoever is rescuing us always seems to fail, or never do enough, and we are still left in our own mess.

Maybe we should start to help ourselves. We need to be rescued from our own cyclical behavior, not from a man or the economic turmoil of the government. Break the habit. Rescue yourself. No one can do it for you.

Graduation

As of last thursday I am officially an alumni of my university. Scary to think that I can longer hide behind the stereo-typical excuses of "we'll, I'm in college."

It was a couple of nights ago where I saw this clip (or something similar) on the news and became disgusted with, not my generation of college graduates, but the generation that has produced us. Barack Obama spoke at the commencment of Notre Dame Univeristy. This comencement speech has been the topic of must interest in the political world since Notre Dame is a very conservative school. Obama's stance on abortion has been one of the prime arguments for why he shouldn't have been allowed to speak at such a pro-life, conservative school.

During the comencement however, it wasn't the students, my fellow classmates and future collegues, that were booing Obama and causing a disturbance, it was the parents. Although my generation has the reputation for not working hard, getting everything we want, and having the gratification rate of an olympic sprinter, we have seemingly, for the most part, grown past the racism and predijuice that was our parents generation. And while it amazes me that our parents, the people that raised us to believe that we should be kind to others, and not hate, still go on hating, their offspring have headed their words and grown up.

So congradualations to the class of 2009. While we may be spoiled, we have grown up in more important ways.

6 Days...

The initial purpose of this blog will be to talk about men and politics, but for today I'm going to rant about graduating in 6 days.

I will be forced, drug, pushed, pulled, shoved onto oncoming traffic (graduating and joining the real world) next Thursday despite my complete unwillingness to leave this naive utopia that college has become for so many of us. Most of my friends, including myself, don't have jobs. We have no clue what we're going to do with our lives, never mind what were going to do in the next month.

We've attempted to prolong the inevitable by drinking away our last days with our friends, and procrastinating much more than we would have ever dreamed. Senioritis has become the Swine flu of my age bracket.

The sheer terror of leaving this campus which has become my home for the last 4 years, is like choking on a piece of your food at dinner and wondering for a split second if this is how its going to end. Absolutely terrifying. And to make matters worse, there is nothing lined up after this grandiose ceremony in 6 days. Nothing to look forward to, nothing to plan, no set goal. Nothing. Just an open space of time and little money with which to figure out my life.

6 days....