My resumé is better than yours.

This is my resumé. Please don't steal it. And yeah I blocked out my phone number.

This is my resumé. Please don’t steal it. And yeah I blocked out my phone number.

I updated my resumé, you may find the link here: https://awildkristenappeared.wordpress.com/2014/03/18/my-resume-just-got-betta/

Advertisements

Hipsters: No one can monetize them.

I wrote this piece for the University’s Point-Counterpoint Magazine, ‘Consider.’

Hipsters: love them or hate them (or you are one of them), the classification has become a staple in defining prevalent subculture. Jokes about the ‘mainstream’ and hipsters defining what is ‘cool’ before something gets popular are as common as society’s distaste for Nickelback or Nicholas Cage (can we move past this?). Whether or not hipsters truly do define what becomes popular culture, no one can deny that the hipster is a marketer’s ideal consumer group. Continue reading

A beautiful year

I’ll start with a few great things about 2012.

-The Mayans have once and for all been proven wrong, but I have discovered someone who is creepily more apt at commanding fate than them (and it’s not Nostradamus): Gene Wilder. In discussing his role for Willy Wonka, he said that his entrance would be like this:

“When I make my first entrance, I’d like to come out of the door carrying a cane and then walk toward the crowd with a limp. After the crowd sees Willy Wonka is a cripple, they all whisper to themselves and then become deathly quiet. As I walk toward them, my cane sinks into one of the cobblestones I’m walking on and stands straight up, by itself… but I keep on walking, until I realize that I no longer have my cane. I start to fall forward, and just before I hit the ground, I do a beautiful forward somersault and bounce back up, to great applause.”

Continue reading

Why the night is better

There is something beautiful about the silhouette of a tree branch against the distant light of a lamppost. As I stand on my balcony, listening earnestly and repetitively to the lyrics “take this sinking boat and point it home, we’ve still got time,” the stars are dim but present, reminding me of an unreachable and incomprehensible mass of space that no physics lesson will teach me to understand. Continue reading