Natalie's blog

Entry-level positions and internships usually conjure up images of boring, exhausting, menial tasks like getting coffee, sorting files, or making copies. In some companies, however, entry-level workers may find themselves with a lack of tasks to do at all. Too skilled to be hired just to make coffee and copies, but not skilled enough to take initiative in team projects, new grads sometimes find themselves floating in work limbo, quickly completing their few, low-skill tasks, constantly bothering managers for more work to do, and mindlessly wasting away the hours in between.

The internet has been all abuzz over the recent Salon article entitled “I am a Radical Homemaker failure," in which the author, Madeline Holler, describes her aversion and inability to commit to the recent DIY, eco-friendly, homesteading sustainability movement. She is tired of feeling pressure to bake her own bread, drive an old car, grow her own food, and do a variety of other activities that have been deemed “socially responsible.” Among other complaints, she describes such a lifestyle as time-consuming, anxiety-inducing, and just plain exhausting. Where modern innovations have saved homemakers time and energy, the “radical homemaker” movement looks to fill that time back up with manual labor. While I have been a big personal fan of the practices of sustainability over the past few years, the article made me aware of some of my own bitterness towards this movement.

When we're kids, our parents are our providers. We wouldn't dream of needing to feed or clothe ourselves, and we never have to worry about finances. If we're lucky, we can even convince our parents to give us a weekly allowance to use on whatever we like in exchange for simple chores.

Dance competition show So You Think You Can Dance is currently in its seventh season, and is turning all of the previous rules upside down in hopes of a more exciting, and more fair, competition. But have the new rules overlooked the apparent gender bias of the show's audience?

Recently, I've been overhearing a co-worker's lament over his girlfriend's television choices. He doesn't mind so much what she chooses to watch, but that she gets upset when he leaves the room or works on his laptop during the show. She desperately wants to share her interest with him, and his apathy is frustrating. He doesn't see a point in sharing an experience that he finds completely boring. Hearing his frequent complaints got me thinking about how my husband and I have dealt with differing interests over the years.