I have officially applied to 75 jobs, spanning from Lynchburg, VA, to Washington, D.C., to the Northeast. It's the job-searcher's equivalent of fucking anything that walks.
This milestone of sorts has made me somewhat giddy--or maybe that's just the high amount of caffeine soaring through my body today. It would seem, with the magical number of 75 (and only 25 away from that soon-to-be-reached milestone, 100) maybe I will get a job soon. As fake as I feel through this whole application process (it's a bit like a blind date--you amplify your good qualities, while repressing bad/socially unacceptable ones), I hope to get a job somewhere, eventually, where I can just be my wonderfully weird self that my friends and family seem to like so much. However, I know that my sense of humor in particular would get me a 'don't let the door hit you on the ass on the way out' rather than a second interview. With that in mind...
A list of things about myself that would get me hired for the wrong reason(s):
1) When I'm good, I'm damn good, but when I'm bad, I'm better.
2) I think dead baby jokes are hilarious, not because I like dead babies, but because THEY ARE HILARIOUS.
3) I don't really believe in much of anything. Simply put, do as you will, but try to harm no one. If you do, 'fess up--and eventually forgive yourself, as the thriving clusterfuck that we call humanity is prone to error.
4) I think, and argue this with my Psychology background, that functioning alcoholism is NOT alcoholism. If you can function, and if the habit itself is not affecting your personal/work relationships, then it's not really a problem. You might, however, be an asshole, drunk or sober, which we can blame on your personality, not your drink of choice.
5) And speaking of alcohol... I read a study recently that found people with lighter color eyes (versus those with brown/dark eyes) were more likely to have an increased tolerance to alcohol and other drugs, and are also more likely to abuse alcohol. Now, some of you may be tempted to say something about the Irish developing a genetic affinity and therefore tolerance to alcohol, but the *other drugs* part kind of ruins your stereotypical joke. But, think about it...if the arbitrary distinctions that separate 'moderate' or 'heavy' drinker from 'alcoholic' were created by a brown-eyed person, based on his/her brown eyed observations (which again, would be arbitrary), wouldn't this and other such studies descry a need for new (still arbitrary) distinctions that were increased in quantity of alcoholic beverages for lighter-eyed people? Just saying.
Time for a beer.
Monday, August 8, 2011
Thursday, August 4, 2011
The Frustrations of the Over-educated Unemployed
Start with a bang, they say.
Lethargy. Kind of the antithesis of a bang. The sluggishness of a life slowly being digested by a desire to do and yet overwhelmed by a lack of that which allows the 'doingness'-- which is to say, a job. The United States' unemployed are generally feeling the same as this unemployed girl.
I don't want to whine. I want to be able to buy wine. See what a difference a letter makes?
Here are some job options, for which I think I have developed the skills during my six years obtaining a BS and then a MA, or for which others think I am qualified:
1) Stripper. Every male friend's first, half-joking suggestion. Perks: Tips can be great! Self-esteem booster! Cons: Most of the customers.
2) Beer-taster. Having *ahem* tasted my fair share of beer, I would be able to classify it into a) Great! I would pay out the ass for this!, b) Pretty damn good! I would buy a six-pack when I could afford it, c) I don't hate it, or d) I would buy this by the case for the sole purpose of getting shwasted at the lowest cost. What, in addition to my extensive field research into the issue, you say, could qualify me for such a job? Overwhelming honesty! Haven't you ever heard that a drunk girl's words are a sober girl's thoughts?
3) Writer, especially against a deadline. Any college student, particularly of the writing-heavy majors, and particularly one who has taken graduate classes in English can tell you that preparation is key--to some degree--but that nothing warms the very cockles of a hesitant writer's heart--and his or her caffeine-shaky fingers--like a fast-approaching deadline. Also, 2) and 3) could make for a very nice combination.
4) Telling people what they want to hear about themselves. I feel this is an underrated skill. We can all tell people what they want to hear about themselves--it's already well-established as ass-kissing--but the astute and witty person knows that one's tone must remain sincere and one's facial expressions must coincide with what one is saying. When one cannot control either of the above, it is appropriate to nod and make consoling 'mmm hmmm' noises.
5) Dealing gracefully with being asked for advice and then having that advice ignored only for the exact, disastrous, and yet predicted outcome to occur. Why, friends, do you find me so wise, do you find me so dependable an ear and so sagely soothing my advice, if you only proceed to throw yourself to the wolves, slathered in the lamb's blood of your own denial? And yet, the composure must be understanding, the tone more how-could-this-have-happened than I-told-you-so.
6) Crazy-assed prophet. Generally, I think to come up with doomsday predictions is sooo last millennium, despite all the media attention the crazies occasionally get. I think I could apply my creative skills to more innovative prophecies. Hey, I'm currently unemployed. Aside from the 8 or so hours I spend looking for or applying to jobs, the 2 hours of sobbing in the dusty corner and then the 30 minutes of cursing my dust mite allergies, and the time I get completely lost in thought (how far is that cloud from me, how fast is it moving, was that a car? Shiny, shiny car...), and the twenty or so minutes I spend meditating on various celebrity men, I have plenty of time to short-term stalk people. Try it out-- walk behind someone on a phone. Overhear some plan ("I'm meeting Sarah at Starbucks later--should be spectacular!") and then make an effort to loop around so that you meet that person going the opposite way. Tap him/her on the shoulder to get his/her attention (Optional: roll eyes, froth at the mouth, speak in tongues), then proclaim your twisted prophecy: "You're meeting a Sarah somewhere later...beware the spoiled milk in your latte!" Proceed onward as if nothing has happened. Or, (since a job, by definition, should be profitable) demand money for further prophecy at said Starbucks.
BANG.
Lethargy. Kind of the antithesis of a bang. The sluggishness of a life slowly being digested by a desire to do and yet overwhelmed by a lack of that which allows the 'doingness'-- which is to say, a job. The United States' unemployed are generally feeling the same as this unemployed girl.
I don't want to whine. I want to be able to buy wine. See what a difference a letter makes?
Here are some job options, for which I think I have developed the skills during my six years obtaining a BS and then a MA, or for which others think I am qualified:
1) Stripper. Every male friend's first, half-joking suggestion. Perks: Tips can be great! Self-esteem booster! Cons: Most of the customers.
2) Beer-taster. Having *ahem* tasted my fair share of beer, I would be able to classify it into a) Great! I would pay out the ass for this!, b) Pretty damn good! I would buy a six-pack when I could afford it, c) I don't hate it, or d) I would buy this by the case for the sole purpose of getting shwasted at the lowest cost. What, in addition to my extensive field research into the issue, you say, could qualify me for such a job? Overwhelming honesty! Haven't you ever heard that a drunk girl's words are a sober girl's thoughts?
3) Writer, especially against a deadline. Any college student, particularly of the writing-heavy majors, and particularly one who has taken graduate classes in English can tell you that preparation is key--to some degree--but that nothing warms the very cockles of a hesitant writer's heart--and his or her caffeine-shaky fingers--like a fast-approaching deadline. Also, 2) and 3) could make for a very nice combination.
4) Telling people what they want to hear about themselves. I feel this is an underrated skill. We can all tell people what they want to hear about themselves--it's already well-established as ass-kissing--but the astute and witty person knows that one's tone must remain sincere and one's facial expressions must coincide with what one is saying. When one cannot control either of the above, it is appropriate to nod and make consoling 'mmm hmmm' noises.
5) Dealing gracefully with being asked for advice and then having that advice ignored only for the exact, disastrous, and yet predicted outcome to occur. Why, friends, do you find me so wise, do you find me so dependable an ear and so sagely soothing my advice, if you only proceed to throw yourself to the wolves, slathered in the lamb's blood of your own denial? And yet, the composure must be understanding, the tone more how-could-this-have-happened than I-told-you-so.
6) Crazy-assed prophet. Generally, I think to come up with doomsday predictions is sooo last millennium, despite all the media attention the crazies occasionally get. I think I could apply my creative skills to more innovative prophecies. Hey, I'm currently unemployed. Aside from the 8 or so hours I spend looking for or applying to jobs, the 2 hours of sobbing in the dusty corner and then the 30 minutes of cursing my dust mite allergies, and the time I get completely lost in thought (how far is that cloud from me, how fast is it moving, was that a car? Shiny, shiny car...), and the twenty or so minutes I spend meditating on various celebrity men, I have plenty of time to short-term stalk people. Try it out-- walk behind someone on a phone. Overhear some plan ("I'm meeting Sarah at Starbucks later--should be spectacular!") and then make an effort to loop around so that you meet that person going the opposite way. Tap him/her on the shoulder to get his/her attention (Optional: roll eyes, froth at the mouth, speak in tongues), then proclaim your twisted prophecy: "You're meeting a Sarah somewhere later...beware the spoiled milk in your latte!" Proceed onward as if nothing has happened. Or, (since a job, by definition, should be profitable) demand money for further prophecy at said Starbucks.
BANG.
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