Sustainable this, sustainable that.
Posted by: lucie
Sometimes you just have to keep the faith that opportunities will present themselves when the time is right. They always seem to have done so in my life; or at least I'm optimistic (naive?) enough to interpret opportunities that present themselves as the right ones when they do crop up. Right or wrong, it keeps me happy enough. You can be driven but flexible, I think. Hell, I'll drive any which direction.
Lately, sustainable business seems to be the buzz phrase in my world. I'm doing a project with a sustainability consulting firm that helps businesses become more sustainable and responsible, researching procurement in the public sector and what types of initiatives might help to push that forward. It's an unpaid project through the school, for a grade, but has been a stroke of luck - a wonderful learning experience.
The boyfriend's project focuses on importing an organic grain from a South American country. His partner has hijacked the operation and come up with ten thousand ridiculous ideas, the foremost being "pre-natal ceral" (yes, he said that, no, there was no logic to back it up - just the belief that people are stupid enough to buy anything if you market it properly). The aforementioned grain has become a hot topic of conversation, and we think about it constantly. What you could use it for, how you could market it, how you could return some of the profits to one of the most poverty-stricken countries in South America; it's exactly the type of business model I was trying to dream up before school started, and there may be an entrepreneurial opportunity there.
Finally, there's the kid with the crazy web 2.0 plan connecting graduates with socially responsible businesses, about which I cannot disclose any more detail at this point. Quite a firecracker, this boy, and he's asked me to join him in planning some of this business over the summer. You never know what could happen.
The point is, things come around. The things you really want will come within your reach if you hang in there. They always do. If you really mean it. Life is good to us that way.
The hairy Highland coo
Posted by: lucie
From Wikipedia: Highland cattle (also known as longhorn, Hairy Coo or Heelan Coo) are an ancient Scottish breed of cattle with long horns and shaggy pelts, a variation, the Highland Dairy Cow is also native to Scotland. The breed was developed in the Highlands and western coastal regions of Scotland, and breeding stock has been exported to Australia and North America since the 1900s. The breed was developed from two sets of stock, one originally black, and the other reddish. Today, Highland cattle come in a wide variety of colours.
Highlands are known as a hardy breed (most likely due to the rugged nature of their native Scottish Highlands), which will eat plants other cattle avoid. They both graze and browse. The meat tends to be leaner than most beef, as highlands get most of their insulation from their thick shaggy hair rather than subcutaneous fat. This coat also makes them a good breed for cold Northern climates.
Highland cattle were the earliest registered breed, with the registry ("herd book") established in 1884. Although groups of cattle are generally called herds, a group of highlands is known as a fold. The breed is affectionately known as "shaggy coos" or "hairy coos" in parts of Scotland. They were also known as "kyloes" in Lowland Scots—possibly a corruption of Gàidhealach meaning of "Gaelic culture", or by conflation with "kye", an old name for cow. Another interesting fact is that the word "cù" (pronouced coo) actually means dog in gaelic.
Notably, Highland cattle were successfully established in Italian Dolomites, in wide open areas. Their hair provides protection during the cold winters, and their skill in browsing for food is also important in order to survive in such a steep mountain area.
Jobs and punk shows
Posted by: lucie
With the end of the school year approaching, most of us are right back to where we were at the beginning. In some cases that means re-embracing the original plan of working for pharmaceutical companies or big energy after dabbling in fantasies of PhDs. For others it's being grateful to have a job to return to. For people like me, the world still seems full of infinite possibility, which can be a pain in the ass.
Things look about the same as they did when I got here, with three main possibilities: 1) find a great non-profit or more-than-profit job, 2) work with a more traditional company where I could gain valuable experience and knowledge to be applied to something or other in the future, 3) start something of my own, probably with a partner.
There is a jumble of ideas kicking around. For example, a strong possibility of a job somewhere between options 1 and 2, doing management consulting for public sector organisations, gaining great experience, hopefully doing some good for society and not having to help Kraft or GM sell more disposable and/or unnecessary consumer goods. That would be cool. I've also found a potential business partner with whom I could imagine starting something cool and working incredibly well together. He's not really the NGO type, so we'd really have to settle for running a business ethically and taking good care of people, which is also nothing to scoff at. Finally, I met a young guy who has an interesting startup idea, totally in the realm of social enterprise, and we're going to talk business next week. Upon googling him I discovered that he is a count. I'm not sure what to think about this, but he seems like a sound individual regardless, so it will be interesting to see how it progresses.
Any way you go, the first job after grad school seems like a massive commitment. And you can't help but teeter back and forth between thinking the world is your oyster and then panicking that you may end up unwanted by all types of companies and potential partners, desperate and without options.
For a break from the usual thoughts, I went to a little punk club last night and saw Tiger Army - a band I had previously known nothing about. They were okay, not really my kind of thing (though I could have kissed their sound guy - so few of the bands I see around here actually pay attention to sound, resulting in a confusing, blaring and sometimes painful din), but the people-watching was fantastic. I have never seen so many gigantic mohawks and seriously committed tattoos in one room before. Very fun.
The weird thing was, they looked just like pictures of British punk kids in the 80s. Same style of clothes, same hairstyles, same Doc Martens - same skinhead kids with suspenders as well. It's weird how nothing changes. It's also weird how certain types of "punk" kids wear such a carefully applied, same-ish kind of uniform when it really goes against the whole philosophy of what punk is really supposed to be. I think. Not that I ever really was one.
I had some flowery shirt on and felt amusingly out of place. The boyfriend, with his little fauxhawk (about to be sacrificed to the job interview gods), Horror Pops hoodie and steel-toed Doc Martens, blended in a bit more easily. Nonetheless, we were each stared up and down with almost equal frequency in this very strange way that I couldn't figure out. It wasn't intimidating or rude, neither appreciative or sexual... People just seemed to be sizing each other up for the sake of sizing each other up. It wasn't good or bad, really... just different. I felt as if I was having a new cultural experience.
I used to hang out with these people when I was younger - people with mohawks and tattoos on their necks and fifteen piercings. But it was just around town in a kind of mixed up group of neighborhood people. I never actually went where they went, where everybody looked that way. It's kind of a funny experience to dip deep into someone else's scene and see how different it can be. It was a cool night.
Word of advice for those kids, though - beer is expensive and you should really drink it instead of throwing it on each other, or on the guy playing upright bass (and his upright bass). I can understand how maybe in Scotland sacrificing your beer to throw on somebody is the ultimate sign of respect, because they do like their beer over here, but it still seems a little bit silly. Just a suggestion.
