Inspiring Friend #4: Liz

In a previous post, I shared my fear that motherhood will interfere with my dream career (once I figure out what my dream career is).  My understanding is that when you have a baby, life becomes chaos and nothing gets accomplished for eighteen years, give or take a year.  So when one of my friends manages to be a mother without giving up her other life goals, I find it both inspiring and comforting.

My friend Liz is a perfect example of doing it all.  She’s always had a talent for multitasking.  In fact, the reason we became friends during our freshman year of college is that we were both able to go out every night and still maintain a perfect grade point average.  (What can I say?  It’s a gift.)  That wasn’t the only thing we had in common.  Neither of us had any idea what we wanted to study.  Out of desperation, we asked the Dean for advice, and she suggested that we major in Economics.  So we did.  I added a double major in Math, and Liz added a double major in Computer Science.

After graduation, Liz got a job working as a computer programmer.  In addition to being the world’s hottest programmer, she was also great at her job.  It wasn’t long before she was managing an entire team of geeky programmers.  But, like me, she ended up having a career crisis.  After a bit of soul-searching, she concluded that she was in the wrong field and that her new dream was to become a doctor.  So, she completed the necessary undergraduate courses, took the MCATs, and sent out her med school applications.

A few weeks before Liz was supposed to start medical school, she gave birth to her first child.  Her family and friends urged her to defer school for one year, and she reluctantly agreed.  She finally started medical school this past September, just days before her 30th birthday.  Liz has always loved a challenge, so now she’s pregnant again.  Her second baby is due one week after her first-year exams.  When she told me the big news, she seemed relatively unconcerned.  “Oh well,” she said, “I can handle two babies and medical school.  Piece of cake.”

The other day, Liz was reading the lecture notes for the first time while walking into the exam, and a 22-year-old classmate pointed out her poor time management skills.  Liz gave her the evil eye and said, “Thanks, but actually, I can read this chapter and five others right now and still pass the exam.”  And of course, she did.

Whenever I feel depressed, I picture Liz as the old, surly, pregnant woman in class, and it immediately cheers me up.  She makes me so proud.  I can’t even imagine how stressful her life must be.  But I once watched her swallow a live goldfish on a dare purely for pride, so I’m pretty sure she can do anything she sets her mind to.

Not an Architect

I’ve never wanted to do one thing or live in one place for the rest of my life.  I get bored quickly, so I like to keep my options open.  When a decision is forced on me, I tend to panic, over-analyze, and immediately regret my choice.

In third grade, I had to choose a musical instrument to play.  After assessing the pros and cons of every possible instrument, I told my mother I wanted to play the violin.  Five minutes later, I started to worry, “Does this mean I’ll never play the flute?”

When I had to choose which colleges to apply to, I made an initial list of 109 schools and devised my own ranking system using 13 different-colored magic markers. I eventually settled on Tulane University, the “Harvard of the South” and the esteemed alma mater of such notables as Ruth Ginsberg, Newt Gingrich, and Jerry Springer.  It was a complex decision, but the key selling points were warm weather, an unenforced drinking age, and the fact that I could go there for free.

I assumed the tough decision was behind me and I could procrastinate for a few years before declaring a major.  But then Tulane informed me that if I wanted to enter the School of Architecture, I had to decide right away.  It seemed ridiculous that they would expect me to know whether or not I wanted to be an architect.  I had to go to the library to find out what an architect actually did (Google came into existence about a month later).  I tried to imagine myself conducting feasibility studies, preparing drawings, and developing construction plans.  I seem to remember borrowing a T-square and sketching a few ugly buildings.  In the end, I went with the odds.  Between “Architect” and “Not Architect,” I figured my calling probably fell into the latter.

Years later, I lived in a high-rise located directly across from the Chrysler Building.  The apartment offered an up-close view of the elaborate silver crown with its seven terraced arches.  Every time I looked out the window, I felt a pang of regret.

I used to say that nothing was out of the question, but the older I get, the harder it is to lie to myself.  Realistically, I will probably never design an art deco skyscraper.  Or go to an Ivy League institution.  But, hey, I might still learn to play the flute.

Mathematical Femme Fatale

Growing up, I saw myself as a tortured writer. As editor of my high school literary magazine, I proudly published my own bad poetry. I took Creative Writing in college and secured star pupil status with a daring piece about a cross-dresser who wore a pregnant suit. I also wrote a praiseworthy poem in which I was a hermit crab who had outgrown my shell and was forced to crawl around naked and vulnerable until I found one with a better fit – what a remarkably clever metaphor for relationships!

Given my obvious writing talent, you are probably wondering, “Why in the world did she major in math instead of sharing her literary gift with the world?”

Well, it wasn’t a completely random decision. I had my reasons. Here they are, in no particular order:

1.) Defying gender stereotypes is fun!

Yes, I am a woman and a natural blonde. I’m also good at math. I have excellent visual-spatial skills. I prefer beer over cocktails and wine. I don’t dance. I hate shopping. I refuse to wear uncomfortable shoes. I’m cheap. I’m punctual. (Of course, I also love make-up and occasionally cry for no reason – I like to keep people guessing.)

2.) Fear of stupid people

If, for some reason, poems about hermit crabs didn’t lead to a financial windfall, I was terrified I would remain in the service industry and be subjected to stupid people for the rest of my life. At least number-crunching came with a computer monitor to hide behind.

3.) The comedic value

My liberal arts friends found it hysterical that I would willingly major in math. They would all gather around, beers in hand, to laugh over my latest issue of Math Horizons magazine. My roommate begged me to smuggle her into one of my advanced math lectures so that she could observe the nerds up close in their natural environment. I did, and it was the highlight of her year.

4.) I knew geeks were cool before they were cool

Deep down, I always knew I wanted to marry a geek. I would never have accomplished this goal had I not possessed the math and computer skills necessary to impress one.


Tip of the Day: Geeks prefer to date their own kind, so if you are ever attempting to seduce one, don't be afraid to fly your geek flag.

Bottom line: It was a rational decision. But why didn’t someone tell me math is so boring? Wait, allow me to rephrase. My actual jobs have involved a lot of boring, repetitive math and very little of the fun complicated kind. Then again, most jobs are boring and repetitive. I'm so glad I don't have one.

The Easiest (and Worst) Decision You'll Ever Make

I was recently asked to give advice to a family friend who is in college and having trouble deciding on a major. I wasn't sure what to tell her, given my current situation. But after some thought, I've come up with what I think is some excellent advice:


ADVICE FOR UNDECIDED COLLEGE STUDENTS

As an undecided college student, you will be led to believe that choosing a major must involve a great deal of thought and effort. You will be urged to assess your interests and abilities, while considering a dizzying array of job outlook statistics. It will be suggested that you peruse the descriptions in the course catalog and highlight the ones that are of interest. You may be coerced into a computerized career assessment that will offer a series of bizarre recommendations, such as “Avoid religious activities, farming/forestry, and supervision” and “Pursue performing arts, astronomy, and child development.” Someone you love will buy you a shiny new book that vows to help you “Find the perfect career!” and “Discover your life purpose in seven simple steps!”

These are empty promises, I promise you. Forget about deep introspection. The answer isn’t hiding deep inside of you, waiting to be uncovered. Kick back, relax, and accept the fact that you’re completely clueless.

Deciding on a career in college is like choosing a spouse before you’ve ever dated anyone. You can’t possibly make the right decision, because you only have a vague idea of what you’re looking for in an ideal mate. It takes years of unsuccessful dating to nail down the specifics. “Attractive and funny” eventually becomes “a morning person who knows how to use the word ‘ironically’ and is willing to clean a toilet.” It’s the same with picking a profession. Right now, your ideal career is probably something along the lines of “high-paying with unlimited vacation days.” If you stumble upon that job, let me know.

When it comes to declaring a major, I recommend selecting entirely at random. Don’t waste your time and energy agonizing over the decision when you could be drinking to excess or trying to get laid. Flip a coin. Point blindly to a page in the course catalog. Let your Facebook friends decide. Regardless of the effort you put into this decision, the probability of it working out is somewhere in the neighborhood of 1%.

Now, don’t panic, you won’t be stuck toiling away in a job you despise for the next forty years. Thankfully, times have changed. More than ever, middle-aged Americans are switching careers, pursuing multiple avenues, and going back to school. You know that weird old person you’ve seen around campus? In ten years, that could be you!

It’s a fact of life that the path to a fulfilling career entails spending several miserable years in the wrong profession. Five years after you earn a degree in earth science, you will finally recognize your passion for fashion. It might take ten years in advertising to realize that you were destined to become an industrial hemp grower. You may have to suffer the humiliation of being fired from your accounting job in order to discover your promising future as a rodeo clown. But don’t let that discourage you. If you were to survey all of the happy, successful people out there, you’d find that most of them lucked into their calling after a string of other gigs. Do you think the inventor of the Beerbrella could’ve predicted his life’s work at the age of nineteen? Bill Murray was a pre-med student until he got kicked out of school for a marijuana conviction and became the actor we all know and love. Colonel Sanders worked as an insurance salesman and a streetcar conductor and didn’t sell his first chicken until he was forty!

Remember that college is a time to open one’s mind. Aspire to be a well-rounded individual. And when you are forced to join the ranks of the “decided,” don’t overanalyze it. Pick a major, any major. And be prepared to redefine yourself.