Tag Archives: Detroit

The Internship

Thank you for you interest in becoming my editorial intern. I realize this is a slightly unconventional position, but I need help with some things and you need the college credit, so it’s really a win-win!

Now let’s get this interview started.

Before my illustrious career as an editor for employment and blogger for enjoyment, I was an intern myself. Twice!

My experiences were the semester before I graduated from college. I moved to the mystical city of Detroit for six months to be a Publishing/New Media intern for the Detroit Red Wings. Being a HUGE puck head myself, it was pretty much an awesome experience.


I was Editorial Assistant for this hardcover publication. Cool book.

When I returned I was a Media Relations intern for the professional minor league hockey team in my home town. Neither of these positions paid, so working 40 hours a week for no money was a great way to prepare me for my future career as a writer.

This is where I should mention that this position doesn’t pay either, at least monetarily, but the experience will be priceless.

I spent my intern days compiling 4,000 trivia questions about hockey (not an exaggeration), running stats to scouts and stuffing sub sandwiches into rockets to be launched into the seats during games, but my intern will be doing more practical things.

As a mentor, I want to help you live the life of a successful writer so you might one day do your online shopping using the “Price High to Low” option instead of the other way around.

We all need to have goals.

I’m sure they taught you all the “book” things about writing you think you’ll need in the real world, but writing only gets you so far. The rules have changed and it’s actually much less about what you write than the things you do before and after you write.

So I will prepare you for the real world by asking you do a lot of work in order for me to reap the rewards and become successful without giving you very much credit. But again, great for the résumé!

Expected Duties

If you want to “go viral,” just writing something of quality won’t get you anywhere. So my intern will focus on deciphering electronic ebonics—LMAO, SMH, etc.— composing ridiculous lists for Buzzfeed and creating a new Internet sensation/meme that involves a moody cat wearing clothes. It can also be another small mammal, but cats seem to be a big hit.

During the summer months you’re required to mow my lawn at least once a week. There is no additional compensation for this, but I promise to look out the window and give you a “thumbs up.” 

Some of my followers forget to retweet everything I’ve ever tweeted, which is weird, so you’re required to retweet and “like” everything that I post on social media. If we’re together in person, simply ring a little bell every time I crack a joke.

If (when) you notice I have food in my hair or on my shirt, please let me know. I hate to see food go to waste.

Answer the phone with, “Can I take your order?” instead of “hello” to see if it helps to sell books. Also walk around the city reading passages out loud, laugh and suggest that they all buy the books.

Every Sunday you have to come over, brush my hair and yell at squirrels with me because it’s Sunday and we all need to unwind. YOLO! (See? I’m already using electronic ebonics — this is your first test.)

So as you can see, the experience will be invaluable and guarantees you probably might be able to get a semi-decent job five to 10 years after the completion of your education.

By the way, do you do toilets?

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Day Tripping

This week I had to go to a work conference in a hotel/casino about three hours from my house.

While this wouldn’t be an issue for most people, in case you didn’t get the memo, I am not most people. I wasn’t kidding when I said that I was directionally challenged. My mom is convinced I should seek professional help in this area (because yes, mom, THIS is the area I should seek professional help for.)


He never even offered to drive. Not once.

So in my mind, the odds of me getting into the car by myself and successfully navigating my way across the state without ending up in Canada or a ditch are about as likely as me flapping my wings and soaring into the hotel convention center like an angel from above.

However, duty called, so I had no choice.  Don’t worry though. I survived, and because I feel the need to overshare my accomplishment/prove to you that you are normal in comparison, I will let you into a bit of my day.

It actually started the night before when I had to rent a car and spent 10 minutes trying to figure out how to turn the windshield wipers off and plug the GPS unit in. Once that was established, I immediately found out the brakes were extremely touchy and managed to squirt breath spray directly into my eye.

Minty mace.

Anyway, the next morning I loaded up the car, set the GPS—my first time ever using a GPS unit— and we hit the road. Here’s a quick rundown of my thoughts while on the trip:

  • While I appreciated the GPS lady’s attention to detail, I did not need directions on how to get out of my driveway. However, five minutes after having this thought, I was already lost and she was “recalculating” the route. We were two miles from my house.
  • Once the GPS lady—let’s call her Gail—assured me that we were “recalculated” and on the right highway, I settled in, meaning I obsessively checked the GPS every five seconds to make sure I was to stay on that highway for 75 miles.
  • About 10 minutes in, I remembered that any time I’m on a road trip, I see every sign for every restaurant off every exit and immediately want to eat every second I’m in the car. While I brought food of my own, it never matters. To me, road trips = constantly wanting to eat.
  • With Gail’s permission, I stopped at a rest stop to pee/eat my breakfast and saw a sign on the instant coffee machine that said, “NEVER drink this water. NEVER.” I did not drink the water.
  • Once back on the road, the rest of the drive was uneventful, save for the fact that I forgot people in Detroit drive like maniacal freaks and that 90 mph is the new 70.


I snuck away at lunch to let Uncle June see the casino. What I presumed to be a homeless man gave me an odd look. Not sure what that means.

  • While at the conference, the woman next to me was drinking OJ out of an espresso cup with her pinky in the air. I resisted the urge to ask her if she had any Grey Poupon.
  • I was told I had outstanding ideas and was given the “gold star” for the day. There was no actual gold star, which I found disappointing and a bit misleading. However, some time later when they brought the idea back up and drew attention to me again, I was stuffing my face with snacks and unable to answer, so there was that.
  • Needless to say, rock star status achieved.
  • The drive home was rather uneventful as well, as Gail, Uncle June and I had some great conversations about the meaning of life, sang along to Kid Rock/Eminem in the spirit of Detroit and composed a brilliantly funny blog post about our adventures.

Unfortunately, all was forgotten by the time I sat down at my computer, so you get this. If someone could invent a GPS for keeping my thoughts in order, I would totally award them a gold star for the day.

As it is, I’m just glad someone invented GPS in general, or else I might still be circling the parking ramp of the hotel/casino, half blinded by peppermint breath spray and singing “Bawitdaba”  at the top of my lungs in an effort to drown out Gail’s “recalculating” taunts.

OK. That might have happened anyway, but at least I made it home.

Gold star, indeed.