The daily Nebraskan. ([Lincoln, Neb.) 1901-current, March 21, 1997, Page 5, Image 5

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    Anne
. HJERSMAN
No means no.
But what does unconsciousness
mean?
Apparently to the men who arm
themselves with Rohypnol, “the
date-rape drug,” to ensure they “get
lucky” when they go out, it means
sex without consequence.
lb their victims it means de
creased blood pressure, drowsiness,
visual disturbances, dizziness,
confusion and impaired motor skills
It means amnesia and sometimes
death.
And then there is the emotional
and psychological devastation that
cones in any case of rape.
For victims of this particularly
heinous method of rape, the emo
tional side effects may not come
until long after the assault. Some
may not even realize that they have
been raped. The night may be
nothing more than a black hole in
their memory.
That’s what makes this almost
hypnotic sedative so appealing to
•f
«
The presence of this odorless, colorless,
tasteless form of ‘intimacy insurance’ has
grown to almost epidemic proportions in
states such as California, Texas, Florida
and New York — all popular spring
break spots.”
-1 - - i • ■
those who use it to incapacitate
unsuspecting women.
Their victims haven’t the foggiest
idea what has happened — merely a
gut-wrenching feeling that some
thing is very wrong the morning
after — or perhaps severe humilia
tion when they wake up naked next
to some stranger in unfamiliar
surroundings.
If it is not immediately evident
that something has happened, the
after effects—anxiety, difficulty
sleeping, increased dreaming,
prickling or burning of the skin,
sensitivity to light and sound, and
impairment of reaction time and
mental judgment — that often
follow ingestion of Rohypnol would
be enough to send most people
looking for help.
Though Rohypnol has not yet
surfaced in connection with any sex
crimes in Lincoln, Capt. Duaine
Bullock, of the Lincoln police
narcotics unit, says, “One would be
real naive to believe it’s not here.”
The drug comes in tiny white
pills and dissolves quickly in most
liquids. It is commonly referred to a:
“ruffies” and is from die same
family as Valium, but it is 10 times
as strong. And it is almost impos
sible to detect once it has dissolved.
According to information from
Lisa Cauble, victim services coordi
nator for UNL’s Department of
Human Resources, a person who has
ingested Rohypnol may appear
extremely intoxicated and may feel
that her arms and legs will not
function correctly.
If the drug is slipped into an
alcoholic beverage or is given to
someone who has been drinking,
that person may stop breathing
altogether once the drug takes effect,
which can happen in as little as 10
minutes.
The presence of this odorless,
colorless, tasteless form of “intimacy
insurance” has grown to almost
epidemic proportions in states such
as California, Texas, Florida and
New York — all popular spring
break spots.
So while it’s more than expected
to be carefree over the break, being
careless could be quite costly.
Party with precaution.
Never accept an open drink from
someone you don’t know.
Watch your drink. Rohypnol
dissolves in soda pop as well as
alcohol.
Look out for your friends at
parties.
If you suspect someone has been
* given Rohypnol, do not leave her
alone. Get help.
Victims can be treated at a
hospital either with another drug to
counteract Rohypnol’s effect, by
flushing the gastro-intestinal system
or by inducing vomiting.
If you want this spring break to
be unforgettable, make it one you
can remember.
Hjersman is a senior news
editorial and English major and
the night editor and a columnist
for the Daily Nebraskan.
Heather
LAMPE 5
Daze of our lives
Soap opera addict craves smut, not morals
Last week was traumatic for me.
CBS decided that it was more
important to show two days of
college basketball than air “Young
and the Restless.” Despite my
desperate attempts at dissuading
them, my threatening phone calls
and anonymous mail bombs, they
pre-empted Victor and Niki.
So it is in the spirit of last week’s
tragedy and on behalf of all soap
opera addicts that I write this
column. Don’t think we haven’t
heal'd the snickering or seen the
pointing. We suffer in silence in the
company of those who don’t worship
our daytime demi-gods.
I used to be a daytime drama
persecutor. 1 couldn’t understand
how normal people could be so
mesmerized by a bunch of sleazy
characters who could be dead one
week and resurrected the next. Then
I spent three weeks of Christmas
vacation at home. It’s true what they
say about addictions, it only takes
one try.
I’m not sure exactly what it is
about these melodramas that makes
them so appealing. But when your
u
But when your only excitement of the
week comes from sampling the free
frozen pizza at the grocery store — the
lives of characters who embezzle fortunes
and sleep with their sister’s husbands
start to appeal to youj*
only excitement of the week comes
from sampling the free frozen pizza
at the grocery store, the lives of
characters who embezzle fortunes
and sleep with their sisters’ hus
bands start to appeal to you.
These people have fabulous lives.
They never do any actual work.
They’re always inheriting some kind
of fortune. They never wear the
same outfit twice. You will never see
anyone on “Days of Our Lives”
lying on the couch in a house coat
and her dirty underwear. They
attend cocktail parties five nights
out of the week and you will never
see one of them drinking a $5 bottle
of Mogan David.
And if it’s some steamy sex that
you want, weekday afternoons could
give late night Cinemax movies a
run for the money. A father will
sleep with his son’s wife. An
employee will sleep with the boss’s
husband. There are no taboos on
i
soap operas.
Apparently the head honchos at
the FCC are napping in the after
noon, because bare skin is every
where. I don’t even know why
they’re worried about what children
are watching in the prime-time
hours. What the preschoolers see
while their moms are folding
laundry is enough to make me blush.
If you ever watch soap operas,
you’ll notice that every character is
somehow connected to all the other
characters. It’s always interesting to
see how the writers will try to
integrate new characters into the
show. You may think that the
dashingly handsome UPS man is
just delivering a package, but you
will later find that he is actually the
long-lost son of the billionaire
tycoon. 5
The soap opera writers have been
distressing me lately though.
They’ve begun writing politically
correct plot lines. Some of them
have dealt with alcoholism, date
rape and even AIDS. I’m sorry, but I
want lying, sneaking, conniving
drunks who sleep around. I don’t
want to be lectured. I don’t want to
leam any important lessons. I want
smut.
You also have to feel for the
actors when they start infecting their
characters with HIV. It may be the
acting opportunity of a lifetime, but
in reality they’re killing the charac
ter off. They can either hope to play
the ghost of their character or a
long-lost evil twin sibling.
I’m worried my afternoon ^
entertainment may soon be hindered
though. In a few months I will
graduate and may be forced to take a
day job. I’m not sure I will be able to
leave my beloved friends of daytime
television behind. I don’t think any
business is going to give me a lunch
hour that lasts from 11 a.m. to 3
p.m.- And I’ve written of my
technological ineptitude, so you can
forget me trying to tape them.
So I’ve decided what I’m going
to have to do. Though it will
embarrass my peers and professors
in the College of Journalism and
Mass Communications, I’ve decided
the only way l ean function as an
employed adult with a soap opera
addiction is to write for Soap Opera
Digest.
If you can 't beat ‘em, join 'em.
Lampe is a senior news
editorial and English major and a
Daily Nebraskan columnist J|
Pounding
pavement
Wanted: Are you hard
working? A go-getter? An
established company is looking
for bright, creative people to
expand in the heartland. If you
are confident and looking for a
challenge, you may be just who
we’re looking for.
It’s ads like these that bring
hope to the job-hunting among
us, frantically licking stamps and
mailing resumes, sure that this
time we’ve got the right stuff.
So, heads held high,
classifieds under our arms, we
venture out, secure in our
institution of higher learning,
praying that those days we
skipped class to go out to the lake
weren’t too important.
Of course, upon closer
inspection, depending on your
field of study, you might notice
something that has recently
caught my attention. For “the
qualified candidate must possess
at least three to five years
experience.” Excuse me? I’ve
been trying to get a degree for the
past three to five years.
it s a vicious cycle—you
can’t get the job that you want if'
you haven’t got the degree, but
you still aren’t qualified because
you don’t have enough experi
ence.
The only consolation I get
from receiving rejection letters is
that my would-have-been
employers had to spend just as
much money on a stamp to reject
me as I did to put myself there.
If being turned down builds
character, then pretty soon I
should have my own cartoon
strip. Most people know what it’s
like to get dumped or ignored,
and there are some people out
there who are even comfortable
with it. In high school this guy
named Justin asked me out 54
times, and I turned him down
every time. That’s what I call the
rejection comfort zone. Even
though I never went out with
him, and still won’t, I learned a
valuable lesson from my personal
Steve Urkel — never give up.
It’s like that drawing of the
frog choking the bird that’s in the
middle of swallowing him whole
— if at first you don’t succeed,
cry, I mean try, try again.
What the ads ought to say or
look like is, “Are you just about
to graduate? Lacking the experi
ence but have the degree?
Looking for an awesome job that
will launch your career? Call us!
We want YOU!” If I saw an ad
like that, I’d be whatever major it
was they were looking for.
As it stands, however, I’ll
continue to rely on my intern
ships, charm and resume to get
me where I need to go. Currently,
I’m brushing up on my interview
ing skills and trying to draft a
cover letter that sounds less like
begging and more like bragging.
You have to make them think that
they would be missing out if they
didn’t hire you, and a few follow
up plume calls never hurt either.
Unless of course, they have caller
I.D. and then have you picked up
for phone harassment. Thai
again, you just “star 67” that baby
and try again.
jfcsaa: teal
|| senior ’aadf
a Daily Nebraska! columnist J