Frog Blog

back on the craig's list job searching track. it seems the job i alluded to in last week's entry isn't going to happen. but i know that when things don't work out, it's okay-- something else will work out. i'm applying and applying and applying like mad. here's a funny job-related story that happened the other night:

i applied from craig's list to be an office assistant at a non-named, downtown nonprofit. the wage they were offering was dismal but they did have a nice benefits package which made up for it. i sent my resume and normal, generic cover letter email to the address listed. later that evening, at about 5:40, i got a call from the company responding to my email. the lady sounded all harried and irritated and wondered if she'd already called me. i said no. she asked me why i was interested in working there, which is the DUMBEST QUESTION ON THE PLANET for a couple of reasons:

1. up until she called, i had no idea what this nonprofit company was because it wasn't specified on craig's list. so how do i know i even want to work for them? they could be a nonprofit pimping association for all i know.

2. what kind of answer can i give? uh, i need to pay my rent? i need money for groceries? i like working? i like getting up every morning for a reason other than to watch "the view"?

anyway. i gave my normal line of "i've worked in an office environment for more than six years and feel very comfortable doing so" and blah blah blah. then she told me, well, according to your resume, it looks like you're a writer! why would you want to start in this entry-level position? to which i responded, well, in my experience, most companies only hire entry-level positions and that's where you have to start. and she said, OH, I HAD NO IDEA.

but back to the writing. she said, you seem like such a writer and i encourage you to LIVE YOUR DREAM AND BECOME A WRITER. YEAH, WHY DON'T YOU FREELANCE AND GO AFTER YOUR DREAM?

i was this close to saying, actually, to be a writer isn't my dream; my dream is to live on a yacht off st. tropez, got any suggestions?

she went on and on and it was so fucking patronizing that i almost burst out laughing. she said, i know it's hard to get a job right now, but... you should be a writer!! good luck to you! and hung up.

how audacious and puzzling. here on planet earth, most companies don't call you unless they're interested in interviewing or hiring you-- not to tell you to explore your dreams, right?!

my wise old man tells me, "the only difference between 'housing' and 'hosing' is U. get it?"

i'm not sure about the rest of america, but out here in the pacific northwest the housing market has been going through the roof for a couple of years now. and i've had the same conversation/lecture twice in two weeks on why i should have bought a house two years ago, how it's a great investment, how if i buy one now i still won't miss the boat and it's money in the bank and blah blah blah and my eyes are rolling to the back of my head just thinking about it.

in a way, i have an easy out-- i'm in no position financially to buy a house: no job = no house. and i probably won't be in any position for at least a year. i GUESS i want a house at some point in my life, but it's never been high on my priority list. i'm not handy-- i don't even own a roll of duct tape. i've been a renter for years, and i love it. when the faucet is leaking, i make a call and the landlord gets it fixed. when the lease runs out, my month-to-month payments make for an easy getaway. i never have to pay for water/garbage/sewer. nor do i have to mow any lawns, weed or fix clogged gutters. there's a wicked freedom in that. granted, i can't paint my walls or carve my name into any support beams, but who cares.

another reason not to buy now is that there are serious DUMPS on the market right now for 200,000 dollars-- in bad neighborhoods with no trees. or there are nice little condos for 185,000, but they're way out of town. some friends explained to me this weekend how most of their neighbors are nice but they do live next to a crack house and their weirdo neighbor came after them one day with a sledge hammer. and the dump on their block is going for 279,000. jesus-- how many trips to paris could i take on that? these houses are "fixer uppers," which is no good to me. i want to be able to move into a livable house.

everything in life ebbs and flows, i believe. and this housing market will ebb. until then i'll be renting.

when i arrived home a few weeks ago, my dad said to me, "you know, i'm just a bachelor living in a bachelor pad and since i'm getting old and i can't see the dirt anymore, if you're interested, you could clean up the old dump and make some money."

if i'd had a normal 8-5 job, i'd have said, no thanks, but since i'm over here most of the time anyway searching the net on my jobquest, i said, sure, why not.

dad has lived here since 1995. i lived here with him once after graduating from college and remember giving the apartment a once-over with the scrub brush. that was about 8 years ago and i don't think it's been thoroughly scrubbed since then. not that it's a shit hole or anything-- but after a while the dust and grime settles into the corners and cracks.

it's turned out to be a nice way to spend the day, actually. it beats sitting around at home, watching "the view" and not changing out of my pajamas. it's nice waking up with a purpose-- take the bus over here, do job and email stuff, clean for a couple of hours, get paid in cash.

surprisingly, as a relatively cluttered individual with a love of stuff, i really enjoy cleaning. i do it well. no scrimping or skipping nasty caked-on dirt spots. i like it because there's an end in sight. i start a task (today was part II of the kitchen: cupboards and drawers) and know that it will be finished in a relatively small amount of time. it's a nice feeling to have a start and end to something, especially with this dubious nature of trying to find a job.

it's quite zen, too, and nice to think of things all neat and organized and clean. i know they won't stay that way forever (dad can be a bit sloppy, but so can i), but i do think that when you're living in a snappy environment, you tend to keep it that way.

having a soundtrack to drown out noisy bitches on their cell phones on the bus is totally worth it. this afternoon i spied five people wearing headphones. i wore them, too. i feel my city is relatively closed off from itself-- it's difficult to meet people here but i think i know why. i don't want to meet or talk to anyone on the bus. i want to tune out all the banal, mundane noises and focus on getting from point a to point b or catch up on us weekly. a guy next to me was rocking out today so hard-- i could hear his buttrock coming out of his headphones through my own headphones. he was even playing air guitar.

i try not to look anymore at anyone out of the ordinary. it's hard-- hot pink manic panic hair gets me every time. and this girl yesterday had tattooed hearts in a row up the back or her legs. what's strange is stuff like this isn't all that out of the ordinary here but still-- there are more brunettes than hot pink. i'm on the fence. obviously i don't want to stare because i don't want to be rude, but then i think about all these things like pink hair and think, hey, you can't not look and if you're wearing pink hair, do you not want someone to look a little? there is a certain shock factor and reactions that come with, so.

B told me he read that most car accidents occur within 25 miles of your home. this is because you're so used to driving in that area that you tend to not pay as much attention as you would, say, while driving I-5 to seattle during 5 p.m. friday traffic. i think this theory can apply to most absentmindedness. i'm so used to my daily pattern that when i do something like make a nice big travel mug of mariage freres maharaja darjeeling tea from paris to take with me to dad's this morning, i leave it on the counter at home. perhaps this is a sign that i need to exercise my daily grind patterns and mix it up even more-- to make my daily grind different every day. i am thankful that dad has a big bucket of pg tips in the closet from yesteryear.

ps, why is it satisfying to pick and flick your own boogers, but fucking disgusting when you come across someone else's flicked booger? maybe it's because whatever comes out of you is yours and therefore ok. like farts-- your own don't smell half as bad as your boyfriend's.

good news on the job front-- a second interview this week. we'll see. don't want to jinx it by talking about it too much.

i joined netflix! my aunt sent me a link for a free monthly trial. just what i need as an unemployed movie lover: free films coming to my house every day. but it will allow me to watch the whole first season of "lost." i love that show because it's not reality tv and because i really haven't watched television in a year so whenever anything interesting comes on, i'm hooked. and matthew fox (charlie from "party of five"!) is a babe.

september in my neck of the woods is truly stunning. every day is perfect-- sunny, not too hot or cold, clear and crisp. it makes me want to spend all day outside. i don't dread september like i used to when i was in school. it no longer stands for a return to classes and cliques and boredom; it means lovely weekend walks with B and drives to the beach and soaking up the last bits of sun.

the first time i heard that moby song was in france with G and L when we all went out for a celebratory drink for L passing his evaluation to become a full fledged teacher in france. and now i'm thinking of it because it's pouring-- it has been all last night and all today and even though i don't mind the rain, it is quite different and dreary compared to the sunny love we've been experiencing as of late. welcome to fall.

i got a job!
i'll spare the details but it's downtown so my commute is going to be a snap. i'm looking forward to starting-- i have an open mind and am ready for a new challenge. god, that sounded like the billion cover letters i've written over the past six weeks. lucky for me i don't have to write any more for a while.

i have no long-sleeved shirts for rainy days like this, and i can say with certitude that lately i've been seeing people here at home from france. at first glance, at least. they make me glance again because they're so familiar. it's dreamy. i've lost myself in "lost" and hate how i can't wait for a new episode to come on each week. i'm so manipulated by television, media, makeup, new office supplies.