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Lauren'S JOURNAL January 2008 Transportation It has got to be the worst part of senior year, the way that everyone asks about your post-graduate plans. As if each of us has a concrete response. As if we all know the quickest way to jump from A to B, A being College and B being Real Life. It was easier at the end of high school when all I had to say was, “Colorado College (a small liberal arts school in Colorado Springs) (just an hour south of Denver).” Nowadays I find my answers vary according to my daily whim: Monday, idealistic: “I’m considering applying to be an au pair in Florence.” A bold claim that loses its sparkle once I begin to wonder if babysitting bratty middle-schoolers and being a summer day camp counselor actually count as “previous experience.” And apparently there’s an enormous obstacle called The Italian Work Visa. Tuesday, intellectual: “You know, as much as I talked it down before, I’ve actually thought about grad school, maybe in Chicago? For art.” Hmmm … and then there’s the issue of a portfolio (which I lack), applications, and several years’ worth of tuition to pay. Ouch. Wednesday, carefree: “Hawaii, with some friends.” A-ha! These are actual post-graduate plans! As in, for the two weeks after graduation. I haven’t thought past that. Thursday, sensible: “I’ll drive home, move home, try to find a job somewhere in the Bay Area. Maybe, hopefully, pursuing letterpress printing, like I did during first block.” Meh. Friday, same as yesterday; still feeling sensible. Saturday, in the bright afternoon sun, after a long Friday night that left me feeling adventurous: “I’m actually thinking about being a flight attendant for Virgin Airlines, once a position opens up. I hear the training only takes six weeks.” Wait … did I really just say that? And would I consider their bright red and purple uniforms an added bonus, or a career and social hazard? When initially approached for a piece of writing regarding this month’s Cipher theme “Transportation,” my most recent attempt to answer the question came to mind: flight attendant. But not because it involves working in the transportation business. For me, it more accurately denotes the aerial job as movement between the stages of my life. A brief career as a flight attendant might serve to transport me smoothly and securely from the end of my higher education into the beginning of a serious life. Rather than taking the direct route from A to B, I wouldn’t mind buying myself some time to join an in-flight crew, meet some interesting strangers, and perfect the speech that Kate Hudson so glamorously delivers over and over again in “Almost Famous” in the role that first inspired me to daydream about this profession: ”In preparation for our departure today, we’d like to ask that you please extinguish all flammable items and do return all seats and tray-tables to their upright and locked positions. …” I’ve had a surprising range of responses to my newest post-grad plan, from candid discouragement (“From a legal standpoint, that is one of the most horrible jobs you could have. The airline company will screw you,”) to awkward encouragement (“Well, if you have the stomach to handle all that flying, then go for it, I guess,”) and enthusiastic support (“Oh, you’d be perfect for that! You’ll get to fly everywhere.”) My own feelings about it continue to be hopeful and excited, albeit disorganized, several weeks after the idea first came to me. An informational web site for cabin crew applicants strongly urges anyone in need of major dental work not to apply. It also suggests that I touch up my roots and makeup before heading into an interview. Seriously? Yikes. The thing is, I don’t expect to want to be a flight attendant forever, just until I feel ready to move toward something more meaningful. Just until I find my B, my Real Life, calling. That might mean getting certified to teach English in Florence, and it might be settling down in Berkeley to print wedding invitations at a letterpress studio. Or, during an unforeseen layover in London, I might meet the roguish Irish bartender who turns out to be the love of my life, and immediately drop everything to settle down on his family’s farm. The fact of the matter is that my point B remains mysterious, and - misogyny, nausea, low salary and canned speeches aside – I see flight attending as a pretty decent bridge between here and there. So, I’m securing my seatbelt low and tight in preparation for takeoff. Departure: College. |