Final Steps to Cloud Dancing

The beating music of the rain has picked up with unfortunate timing. Standing by recent patterns, I'm tired during the day but can't get enough of the night. No one is awake and there are endless things to do.

Search the internet. Read the news & intrigue. Organize anything/everything. Pour cereal. Read exciting novels. Write. Write. Watch 1 of my fav TV series. Trash texts to open memory. Paint toe nails. Pummice feet. Write. Play with my hair. Become inspired & make random food. Experiment with cooking. Donate to compost. Go for a walk. Go for a drive. Ponder my bank account. Make lists of finances. Make to-do lists. Organize previous lists. Sort miscellaneous drawer(s). Prepare folios. Prepare binder's board. Measure. Cut. Measure. Cut. Roll eyes and glue. Sew, sew, sew. Braid & bead. Take pictures of creations. Take pictures of random shit... for the sheer hell of it.

At 3a.m. these things are enticing.

At 3a.m. these things feel dire...

Something about December discombobulates desires. I want to sleep but the alarm clock goes off. I want to go to work but it's not time. I want to visit friends but I'm too exhausted to fake excitement. I want, I want, I want but I didn't shower because I wanted to do something else. It's lunch time but I'm not hungry but I'll cook anyway & end up cooking too much & hate myself sooner than later.

I want something and I don't know what it is. I do know I don't want to want. I'm pushing myself to be a machine, per say, and workworkwork until everything is phenomenal. My retail job, my binding orders, my laundry, etc.

And I've finally developed a sleepy-head. I can only pray I will wake early (and decide to stay awake) to pursue a Sun Salutation. Perhaps it will be a stronger healthier footstep to begin the day.

Bon voyage mes reveurs familliar!

To Bend or To Break?

It's been a hot minute but I can't say I've been slouching. As of recent, I'm a part-time blogger for a communications company. I make and sell art books...they're awesome if I say so myself.

I still work in retail, but---shh, it's a secret---I'm getting promoted soon.

I've been strung along so long, however, that I'm beginning to wonder if it's all crap. Is it possible my boss is taking advantage? I work like a dog--long and hard to be the best I can. I also work for a dime over minimum wage... with a college degree.

I want to believe she means everything she says. Hell, she's so over the top sometimes--pardon my language-- I think she's totally f-ing with me. She's told several co-workers I'm her "savior" for working so hard.

I know I work hard and I know I'm very reliable. I know because it's intentional.

My job may be pretty low-key and I sound like an entitled brat for saying it. It's true though. If employers weren't so selfish in the now, I would have a much better job.

....but no matter the job, I can't help but strive to be the best at it. It's pure pride but it's not as if my superiors don't benefit. I just need to know if the rug will be pulled from under me if I decide to give my boss the "if, then". She'd be daft to think I'm not worthy of more and smart enough to know it.

I'm not ready to leave the store. I've enjoyed working with my guests and tearing down and building up the back room for years. I had hoped for better as a kid, teenager, college student; but this is where I am. Despite abohorring my wages and status, my job compliments a lot of my talents.

It has also taught me something I did not have before: strength. I don't mean the kind of strength it takes to get through the hard times. I mean the kind of strength it takes to firmly and pseudo-aggressively approach a shop-lifter. The strength it has taken me to tell people "no" and that the way they speak to me is inappropriate (or even unacceptable). I'm getting better and this job has taught me to be more forward.

Promotions are tough, though. It's always this week or next week. After I talk to her and after I ask her. When I get back from vacation or get back from vacation. Possibly after the holidays and excuse.excuse.excuse...

I'm uncomfortable giving the "if, then". What if she gets angry with me? What if she drops me into pseudo-unemployment... or worse no hours, not qualifying for unemployment? Could that be why I don't get scheduled much but I always seem to more than double my schedule...I wouldn't even qualify for partial-unemployment?

What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?

How do I step up to the places I want to go without stepping on any unbending wills?

Scream!

One of the frustrating things about life after college is the constant feeling of ineptitude.

Every time I bust my butt to meet new people, explore companies and send resumes nothing happens. Every time I get back to a low but comfortable bank balance, something always comes up.

I have a $440 ticket due next week. I owe my dad over $200 for four new tires I didn't know I needed till I noticed the flat when heading out for my evening walk.

I've been working for my grandfather, who is a pastor, setting up a filing system both on his computer and for paperwork. The man has thousands of sermons. I feel like I'm really earning the money he pays me... then I realize
I'm using twice as much gas with going between work, home and my grandparents
(and, occasionally, Boyfriend's apartment).

I suppose this is the one step forward, two steps back philosophy.

...but tonight I've had enough.

I'm a small woman, not thin but rather short. Despite my love for debate, I am a rather mild mannered person--chatty but shy in a way. Loud voices ring big brass bells in my ears, scaring me. Even if I'm insulting someone, my voice is usually low.

...let's just say I'm not opposed to insulting people, no matter how much I disagree with the practice.

Tonight's different. The payments and bills are due.  Boyfriend is always "tired" 
when we get done with a walk or an event.
I hate these shoes that make my feet look big.
The dye in my hair is taking forever to grow out. 
I've got more blemishes on my face. 
I look fat in EVERYTHING! 

Yeah yeah, it's ridiculous. The fear and anger just build up until I'm stressing out about vacuuming!

Revving my pedal to the floor, I sped out of boyfriend's complex and in the direction of my current residence. At the fork in the road, my hands decided to veer the car right instead of left.

One block.

Three blocks.

Five miles.


"AAAAAAAAH!!!"

The shrillest wildest scream echoed out of my chest and into the tiny car. I was stunned. From where did I pull this abandonment to let my air loose?

Straight up from my tired feet to my frustrated hips to my sore back, heavy shoulders, throbbing head--

I did it again and again and again till I didn't care that adjacent drivers were staring. With every heavy rush of breath, my vocal chords vibrated faster and faster. The sound lifted higher and higher, wider and wider.

I  hoped they could all hear.
    The policeman that gave me the ticket.
        The man at the tire store.
            The gas pump.
                My boyfriend.

Everyone I've ever met. I envisioned them hearing my reckless shrieks and savored the looks of shock on their faces.

At the end of the day, the bills and payments are still due, the car still sucks gas, and Boyfriend is still bewildering.
The best I can do--hell, the best any of us can do-- is scream! Scream and shout and shriek and hollar until your lungs hurt because today it's the only relief you will get.

What's a Fail Whale?

My boyfriend is one of many who sneer at Twitter. In a discussion we had months ago, he referenced the phrase "fail whale." I gave him a blank look. As he usually does when I'm dumbfounded, he gestured emphatically and pronounced shock at my ignorance.

I figure, the man's a genius--so what if he's a little cocky. It's not like he's wrong...

In any case, I was pondering my Twitter use today. I signed up for it several years ago on a whim. My roommate at the time told me he had signed up so he could follow a singer he was attracted to. The thought occurred to me I could do the same.

I've never been one to follow celebrities and gossip, but if I can access everything with a couple clicks, why not?

Naturally, I never actually used the account. I wanted to follow some of my favorite actors and find out what kind of people they are. (Which is something I have done. Turns out Ian Somerholder, one of the stars of Vampire Diaries, is a major environmentalist. Awesome.)

Instead of diving into Twitter myself, I waited until I completely forgot about it. One ordinary day in my Eng213 class, I was inspired to sign up for Twitter because it would connect me to the world--a relationship that can go both ways." The thought intrigued me, so I dove. A few clicks later I found I already had an account.

It's almost exactly a year later. Now that I'm not using Twitter to commune with my classmates and makes jokes with our prof during class, I use it to read.

--I should make the side note that the professor who inspired me to get involved in Twitter and many other great ventures is Dr. Brian McNely. He's one of the best teachers I've had.--

Here's where I tie the whole Twitter thing to my post-college life** lol

Follow the news. It's a practice that can keep anyone, particularly young people like myself, several paces ahead of everyone else. Don't just follow YokoOno or DalaiLama. Follow NewYorkTimes and pitchforkmedia, HuggingtonPost and eonline. Vary your information between philosophical, current events and gossip. Keeping fingers in many pools allows you to swim gracefully in many waters.

While people like my boyfriend (gotta love him) are sneering at Twitter, I am filling myself with information to give like shiny red apples on a tree. Information is "food for thought" and information that is both thought-provoking and humorous sticks like "white on rice." lol

Keeping yourself informed and full of information is a great way to prepare for conversation. Conversation after all is the best way to land a job. Others call it networking, which is a negative term connoting opportunism.

Conversations on the other hand happen everywhere at every time. Start talking to the guy next to you on the bus about his newspaper article. From following Spinuzzi, you could talk about Spinuzzi's running commentary on his morning bus route. There** the plunge and you've made an acquaintance.

I find this technique works best in tense situations such as silent elevators. The first one to break the silence and rouse interest is the winner. Be that one. I do this a lot when I'm working with guests at the store. Women shopping for clothes usually feel uncomfortable and frustrated; their self-esteem starts to drop. I distract them one crumb at a time. Fashion--> Designing for Plus Size--> Studies about obesity--> my project on obesity in the media--> I'm [FULL NAME], a recent graduate with a BA in Creative Writing and a minor in Professional Writing--> Tough job market--[move through sale]-->
"It's been a pleasure working with you today."
"Thank you so much! You've made my day."
"That's great to hear, [her name]. Please come back and visit me." [find a chance to re-state  your full name]

This isn't plain opportunism, which connotes purelly selfish desires. Women do this with me every day and I'm flattered they think I might be helpful some day. The one thing I have learned from them is to STATE MY FULL NAME. Business professionals do not go by cute nicknames that end with -ie. Carrying a business card is another great way to remind people of you.

I'm reading the news and shaking hands, giving my name and getting hers, telling the tales that make everyone laugh. Humor sticks.

Fortress of Solitude

At the end of my third day w/o any form of nicotine or smoke I lie awake feeling the pulsations of my stomach. It's a Tuesday now and in 12 hrs or so my cramps will be evident. It's strange how life beyond college has regulated my body. My period runs like clockwork. My internal clock runs like... well, a pretty accurate clock.

Today has been different from the last many. I had the house all to myself. The silence and slow breaths of an empty home are like heavy waves on the ocean. My limp body floats up and down with the beauty of a lackadaisical afternoon.

The last few weeks have been a constant list of worries. Did I call that lady back? Did I print off that sheet?  When do I work? Is that appointment today or tomorrow? Has that check arrived yet? Have any of my friends responded? What is going on in his head?
Why do I keep asking myself these benign questions? Dammit, go to sleep!

It's a mundane script.

So, here I am: listening to my music shuffled for the first time in months, flitting around between articles, tapping my feet.
According to an article about insomnia most people can't sleep due to impatience while trying to get to sleep. Instead of following the 6, 78 or 9 different tricks to attaining sleep, I am listening to Reel Fish. Yeah, Ska doesn't put me to sleep either.

Before I fall asleep every night, I make a list of what I need to be doing. To calm myself down, I try to organize that list into a manageable schedule. Oddly, most of my real concerns are about the things I think about least: the career world.

I received notification from the person I interviewed with for the internship. They aren't going to have interns for the fall. Given the silent time after the interview, I assumed as much. A breath later, the person tells me that they'd like me to do a blog for one of their sites. The pay is not worth mentioning and there's a limit on posts, but it's a step. A step where I'm not serving appetizers, measuring women's busts or unloading shipment one garment at a time.

I got that call and an email with a tax form to fill out around a week ago.

Getting back to the impatience thing-- I am, that is: impatient.
A mentor of mine once told me of sending out poems for publication: keep tabs on the where, when and what.... but one you send it, forget about it until/if you receive a reply.
My dad says, "You're on their schedule....Looking for a job is often a waiting game."
My first boss, Mr. David Bauer, always said, "Everything here is a 'hurry up and wait' game. You can't plan anything...your'e on their clock, but they're payin' so I'm not complainin'."

A side note on Bauer:
One of my favorite curmudgeons in the world. One of the only people whose sarcasm is almost a part of their body. So many people find him to be a hard pill to swallow. I would call those people cheap. My first boss, wherever he is now, is the first person I was patient enough to get to know past first impression. He was my mentor for many years and an inspiration. In a world where only wealthy, corporate lives are revered, Bauer was comfortable with working the theatre. Lights, sound, spot, drops... those were the days...my favorite job ever.

On top of waiting for  call, I am also waiting for a call-- about the editing job I interviewed for. I keep telling myself to call but am scared. I've been told so many times to be confident in myself, over and over and all I can think is: now I'm just self-conscious about trying to be confident. I'm chasing my tail.

My current job is spinning me in circles. It's not the career path I ever wanted but it's where I am. When I'm there, I'm there an nothing else matters. When I'm not there, the thought of being there makes my innards sprint a random pattern as if through a maze.

"After five years of [insert expletive] and [ridiculous sum of money], I am still working for less than a quarter over min. wage."

At some point, I had a point to make with this post. I got lost somewhere around reminiscing about my first job and sighing deeply when comparing my current job and my student loans.

College is like rolling heavy stones up a hill. One at a time. Two a  year.
Job searching is like golfing. Line it up. Swing. Watch and wait. Cross fingers. Hit or miss.

Another thing about post-college life I've been forgetting to attend to: friends. In college, friends and peers are everywhere. Class, cafe, library...everywhere!
After college, I have no idea. I was warned but now I know-- finding friends in the adult world is much more difficult.

Until tonight, I was relying on my family and boyfriend to be enough company to keep. Over the last three days, boyfriend and I have been quitting smoking. He suggested (many many many times) that I avoid him while he does so. He's on vacation now--sitting at home in his boxers playing video games and sleeping and God knows what else.

With this eventful free-time on my hands, my isolation is glaring. I've been looking up book clubs or women's social events, but nothing seems promising.

Tonight, I am proud to announce I may have made a friend.
(Strange how such a simple thing was so recently an errant event.)

Since When Do I Watch Football?

Marriage--one of the precarious things about being in my early twenties. No, I am not engaged, but my peers keep pairing off two by two. It seems like once they tie the knot, they have a baby or two or not in that order...either way, we stop having much in common.

Instead of being a whole list of things like friend, sister, emergency contact person (lol), they become Wife and Mother. These two roles are always so infuriating because their tag-line is "You just don't understand...," like I'm less of a human being because I haven't gotten knocked-up or kneeled to become someone's doting house wife.

Some day I might be there, planning a wedding or painting a baby's room but right now I'm a recent graduate with a Bachelor's degree. And I live with my parents.

I mention all of this because until several months ago, I had avoided dating for several years. My brother decided not to date while in school because he wanted to remain focused. He also said, "Watching people together, they always seem so unhappy and stressed out." After cutting out chunks of my sanity to try dating, I took a cue from my younger brother.

In an odd sort of way, the timing of my life is panning out better than I expected.
Graduate high school.
Go to college.
Graduate college.
Get a job.
...and then somewhere toward the end I wanted to get involved with someone and THEN consider making such a drastic change in roles.

Maybe I thought I'd be a spinster (which is still a possibility. lol.), maybe I thought I'd make a huge mistake and have to drop out to raise a fatherless child, maybe I thought I'd fall head-over-heels into a romantic comedy with cheesy music.

Somehow, I met my high school sweetheart at twenty-three. Everything is rather simple and nicely paced, a new pattern for my life.

To make a definitive point, I'll connect this strange dating ramble to football.

Out of all the things I thought might happen, I never thought I'd be watching a football game. I'm not athletic. Period. My boyfriend, however, is. He played on our high school football team and is a huge Colts fan. His mother is too and, incidentally, owns four season tickets. Like I said, big fans.

Despite the fact that I've always had a sour spot for girls/women who do odd new things when they get involved with someone romantically, I was compelled to at least learn a little.

My stepmother is a huge HUGE Colts fan. She has every kind of Colts paraphernalia I can think of--even a seat cover for her BLUE car. She has been more than obliged to tutor me. Surprisingly, even my dad answers questions. (He's famous in our family for telling people to shut up and be quiet while watching TV.)

So,
Get job (several)
Graduate high school
Go to college
Get more jobs
Graduate college
Date high school sweetheart ?
Get another job...

Oh yeah, that's the other thing I'm spinning my head on. I landed a blogging job at the biggest communications company in the state. It's a very modest position with very modest pay but it's something I want to do.

dear diary: today i watched my first football game. then i got my first kinda real job.

Lol.

Vacation 2011: Day 5

After a number of days in a condo with nine members of my family, I'm ready to go home. I enjoyed the laying around and excessive eating, unnecessary spending and beautiful scenery--but it's time to go home.

Going home I can get back to my "big girl" bed and keep looking for my "big girl" job. I can stop hating myself every time I undress because I'm thinking about the amount of calories I just consumed.

Another goal I have that should help my job search: lose weight. Being obese can send the wrong message about my work ethic and responsible nature. Not to mention I'd like to go back to smiling every time I get in the shower instead of grimacing at the mirror.

Vacation 2011: Boying Mt. Day 1

Less than twelve hours into vacation. We've been looking through local travel guides, trying to plan events-ish. With my back, I can't participate in a lot of things.

No horses, distance hiking, biking Mackinac Is., zip lining, wave runners, etc.
Ugh, long list.

Then, on a long drive into green, green and more green (the very tall and woodsy kind) a beach appeared. Not just a beach but a beach with a tiki bar stand. Tomorrow the pack will be hiking while I'm sleeping in and then they'll be catching their breath while I'm sipping a Mai Thai.

We have different ideas of vacation but everyone agrees that hot tubs are awesome. Particularly 49 capacity hot tubs.

After sampling the smaller pool and indoor hot tub across the lot, my cousin consulted a map and found the "frickin' huge" hot tub. Apres dine, we drove over. The other pool/hot tub are behind the Clock Tower Lounge and across the pond from "The Castle."

I'm calling it that because that's exactly what it looks like--classy and romantic trellises and wood work surrounded by a cute mock-Swiss village. Sitting on a rock infront of the lounge for a smoke, I saw the fountain. In the center of the pond is a fountain that shoots red and blue all night...right infront of the beautiful castle.

Tomorrow requires a camera. I need to capture some of these things. The green here is missed back home where rain has been away for awhile. Looking up the ski lift, there is a large hill with massive trees everywhere.

Well-to-do families have gorgeous cabins here. Some of these "cabins" are several stories and bigger than any home I've even stayed in.

Enough. I need to get back to my pull-out couch I'm sharing with my cousin. So, that part isn't the best...

God doesn't want Papa to have a Break

I set off with my grandparents today on vacation. Everything they do takes forever--not because they're older but because they have no sense of urgency. I was told to show up at 9:30 AM, so I crawled out of a comfy bed with my boyfriend to shower and drive over. Naturally...they weren't even out of bed. Then we had to have breakfast not at a drive-thru but an actual sit down restaurant.

I wish I had their patience. If the world were going to end tomorrow, they would still spend several minutes every day making the bed together. They'd watch "Jeopardy" and "The Price is Right." No matter the impending threat, nothing is going to make them afraid of the all-consuming clock.

One thing today did make them urgent. We got a call saying my great grandmother is in the hospital and in a poor state. She is my Papa's mother-- Grandy's mother died last November.

Maybe that has something to do with good and bad things always coming in threes.

My dad saw the humor in the situation. A couple of times in the last several years, Grandy and Papa have been haulted on leaving for vacation. Heart problems. Illness. Now Grandma's in the hospital. "Someone up there just doesn't think Dad deserves a break," said my dad.

He's right. This past year has been hell for our family. Happy loving people but lots of sick and sadness. Three cases of pneumonia, several hard flus, a handful of hospital visits and a funeral. Two of us almost died this year and one truly did.

_____________________________

In South Bend, we drove past the hospital my brothers and I were born in. At my request, we drove past the house we lived in. Things look so strange years later. I thought the house would look smaller since I've obviously gotten bigger.

Not so much.

___________________________

In Grand Rapids and lucky Grandy and Papa have decided to continue heading for vacation. Pheew! Rumor has it they were going to leave me in Grand Rapids (with all of my luggage) to wait for someone to pick me up on their way to our vacation.

Enough rambling...

Va-ca-tion is Sangria & Beach Chairs

I don't have much time to update but I'm taking my laptop on vacation...or at least that's the plan.

Half of my family feels the way I do about vacation-- lots of sleep, lots of sitting with mixed drinks in the sun and lots of unhealthy food. The other half think each day starts at dawn and that each hour must be packed with plans--hiking, canoeing, exploring.

Don't get me wrong, I do love shopping and spending a short day on the tourist strip. I'm bringing some books though and enough cash to pick up a six-pack of coolers.

I have little news on the job front: my boss at my mall job has told me there are several management positions open and she's set me up to interview with her boss. Crossed fingers! It's not necessarily my dream job but it pays better than my current one.

On living with parents again: "your room" actually means 'the space you will occupy until we have a more favored guest aka. someone older'. I am currently vacating the premises after some serious time scrubbing down my area. I know this isn't my home anymore but thinking about that gives me a kind of lost feeling.

Instead of sleeping on a couch, etc. I'm headed over to my boyfriend's for the night. Awesome--full grown man has a rickety old twin bed. Tomorrow morning begins my vacation and I won't be back for approximately ten days!

This calls for a happy dance.

Mayflower's Daughter, aka Me

Today was both exciting and embarrassing. I interviewed with a younger woman for an internship for a phenomenal communications company. Interviewing with someone closer to my age feels more relaxing, like maybe they remember vividly what it's like to be in my seat.

Every person I've interviewed with so-far--for every job I've had over the last five years--has been a middle-aged woman. It's hard to tell someone who has ten times the credentials and years of experience I have that I am so indispensable she must hire me.

Of course, I don't know quite yet how the interview went from the other end. I felt positive my recent interview for the editing position went moderately well. The interviewer seemed quite pleased with me on all counts but my confusion over many parts of InDesign. It is now eight days later and I haven't heard back.

(On a side note: After being tutored by several people on interview etiquette, I emailed the woman to thank her for her time and express my genuine interest in the position. In retrospect, I wish I would have sent her a hand-written thank you note but I worried it would not reach her in time. I was wrong.)

The embarrassing part of the interview was "the tour." Most interviews have them. Amiable interviewers  will give you a tour of the work space and introduce you around. I've always seen this as a sign they are fond of me but today felt particularly different.

I felt positive vibes from the people and place but I was introduced to everyone as ______ Mayflower's daughter. Things like this worry me.

Back when I was applying for college, I received a rejection letter from DePauw--a Methodist run college. My grandfather, a long-standing Methodist minister, argued that I should allow him to speak to a few people. To me, this meant I wouldn't be accepted so much as my family's name would be accepted.

I want to be known for riding on my own credentials and abilities. Networking is the number one key to the job market but I don't want my name to be confused with anyone else's. I've always envied people with large silver spoons. I've also always feared people seeing me the same way, as a person who never has to work for what they get.

The plans for tomorrow are to attend physical therapy (which is turning out to be somewhat exhilarating) and then continue work for my grandfather. The man had boxes and boxes of bills, reports, etc. that needed to be filed. Now that I'm done with that I get to set up a filing system for his hundreds of sermons. I owe them quite a bit for this opportunity though...I desperately need the money.

Beginning the Search

I plan to turn my blog into  a record of this quest I am on. Like so many recent graduates, I am stumbling through the dried up job market. Even better, with no money, I've been forced to move in with my parents.

I'm sure most young adults are aware that moving back in with your parents is... well, it sucks. In high school, I was required to always let them know where I was or was going. Now the stakes are higher. They call me throughout the day, look over my shoulder at my screen, ask for rundowns of my days. What are my plans? Have I considered this? Did I get the emailS they sent me?

After applying to a handful of clerical jobs through IU Health that my stepmother found, I stumbled on a few jobs myself. I found a "social networking position." --My boyfriend calls it "corporate trolling." I went through the 8hr training coarse and worked hard to try to get a handle on it. When applying, I thought I would be running a blog, Twitter, or Facebook page for a company I was assigned. That's not exactly what the position called for.

On top of the "social networking position," I got a call from a friend saying a friend of his had posted that her workplace was looking for an editor. A couple of phone calls and messages later, I sent my resume to the girl's boss. I got an email a couple days later and an interview several days after that.

I interview well... at least I thought I did. I'm friendly and speak well. However, no one had ever explained what a "working interview" is. The interviewer, thankfully a very friendly and patient woman, had me edit a few pages and then sat me down to InDesign. Editing is not a problem for me... in fact, I'm one of those strange people that enjoys it.

My resume says I have experience with InDesign and Photoshop... perhaps I should have explained the experience I have was forcibly learned in less than two months. I learned a lot for such a small time period but I have no experience with formatting for a print piece. Given a couple of weeks, I would easily pick up enough tricks to have a working knowledge. That's not exactly what the interviewer got to see.

After struggling for over an hour, I had the heavy feeling she was distinctly disappointed.

So here I am. I have a confusing and embarrassing job that feels an awful lot like a scam. I am waiting not so patiently for a call back on an interview. And today...I am headed to my dad's workplace to interview for an unpaid internship.

The internship is a great opportunity but it's not getting me any closer to leaving my parents' house.

23 June 2011

To be honest, I'm not sure the past few weeks have been all that productive. I've been reading "What Color Is Your Parachute?" and doing the workbook. I've mock-interviewed with a friend of my dad's, David Wood, from Emmis who has a lot of experience in hiring. I've contacted and even discussed with several individuals the possibility of me shadowing them to get an idea of what they do. I've opened and updated a LinkedIn profile and spent hours reading and posting on social media sites. I'm staying informed; I'm informing; and I'm clueless.

Should I be searching Want Ads in the newspapers or job postings online? Should I research temp agencies to simply do something new until I find something exciting? And what is "something exciting?" Do I want to start out in web content (updating sites and social media for a company) or do I want to start out in marketing or public relations? 

I have a broad skill set that I'm not sure how to begin to apply to one job. I clearly have web skills what with my Blog, Wiki, Facebook and Twitter. A couple of my InDesign projects from my 2011 IRB Study are on Scribd and I'm pretty proud of those. I can type quickly and I'm very meticulous and organized...and unusual trait in a creative writer. I also have pretty descent math skills. I'm a great poet--my last poetry professor told me I'm a risk taker, the kind of risks that will take me far. I also do creative non-fiction and am loosely sifting through old scribbles to find an outline for a non-fiction novel. I have a stack of hand-crafted books I'm proud of, the stitching getting more intricate with each folio.

After keys and files and posts and pages and yards of thread, all I see is a bunch of interesting skills.

In the mock-interview I did a couple days ago, I was told I become most animated when I am discussing something pertaining to my current job. I do enjoy working with people and meeting their needs. I like building rapor with the women I assist, their lives are so interesting and they seem so happy to have someone listen. When I know who they are, it's easier to know what they want and how to go about finding it.

After the first handful of exercises and chapters in "What Color is Your Parachute?", the mock-interview, and countless discussions about my future, I don't know what I'm looking for. What is it about me I need to look out for? What could hold me back other than my obvious young age and minimal experience? Most of all, what am I looking for and where do I find it?

End Zone Confusion

The most common question asked surrounding my college graduation has been, "What are your plans now?" Apparently, I am supposed to have an answer given the number of times I've been asked this.

A plan to me is a thorough structured idea of what I foresee lying ahead. I'm far too organized and meticulous to have such a plan laid out. In light of the questions, both those from others and those from myself, I've been making a list. There are dozens of things I want to do this summer but only a handful of things I have to be doing.

Resume: already have a thorough draft ready for the cutting
Research: find at least a dozen professionals in my field I admire and learn about them
Job Shadow: people who could show me what they do, so I know what kinds of things I'm looking for
Applications and interviews: last step, of course...

Fitness: exercise little by little until I don't hate it...maybe shed 30 lbs.
Health: I have begun a different way of eating, hopefully. Keeping up on check-ups with doctors.
Mind: Reading every day. Writing every day. Slowly learning to truly meditate.
Vision: making small notes about the places I want to go and people I want to meet in the next 5yrs

Social: Past, present and future friends and acquaintances need to remain important.
Personal: is personal.
Habitat: do laundry, preferably before the apocalypse

Finances: SAVE MONEY. Keep putting into the savings and forgetting the account exists.

My goals, though parochial, are my first step. I'm trying to remind myself to revisit and revise these goals every week.

What are my plans? Where am I going? What am I going to do tomorrow, next year, when I'm thirty? I'm sticking my fingers in my ears and singing a lullaby.

On the organization I've established for my computer files, my father says I am not only a creative person but a logical and organized person. Seems like a contradiction but it works for me. I could develop some airy and colorful path I call my future goals, but the truth is I will approach the next three, six, twelve  months in steps, which I may not see until I reach them.

Life after graduation really does look like a shot in the dark. I feel brilliant and blazing with no clue where I'm sending myself. There's some saying about shooting for the moon and landing in the stars. I am pulled back in the sling shot (like angry birds. lol) aimed with blind eyes. These steps I've chosen now: resume, research, job shadowing, etc. will give my fingers a feel of the terrain to assist me in the inevitable fumbling.

I can't answer what my plans are. Please please stop asking. Step one looks so minimalistic to folks who prescribe to the "bigger picture" and "the long-term," but it looks manageable to me. This first step is in a   file marked "Beginner", which has another file in it labelled "Month_1."

Open Road, Open Mind

In an ironic sense, I was driving tonight after a long day thinking about America as a car culture.
There are so many things that are said (myself included) about our culture that are given a sneer. Take driving for instance. Americans are know for their affinity for cars and road trips. Kerouac being a good example of this. Gas and oil are wasted and people purchase new cars on a frighteningly frequent basis.

But what does driving do for us beyond the obvious answer of transportation.

It takes us new places inside ourselves as well. Case and point that I thought of this while driving...

I named my car Athena when I first got her. She's my first car and I've had her since I was seventeen. I knew that she would make me think like being in a car usually does and I knew that she would face some battles.

It's those long night drives that allow my mind to slow down and meander over things that may have slipped through the cracks in my brain during the lightning bolts of every day thoughts. Once I get out thoughts about the coffee maker, my shoes, scheduling, etc., I can fill my mind with long breaths. The thoughts trickle in, lilting like the walk of a happily intoxicated person.

Toooo the left.....tooooo the right.....Oh! A door!

Probably a bad analogy, but nonetheless effective.

Long drives also give, at least, me a chance to spend time with myself. Hours to discuss with myself questions I have or problems I'm facing. Of course, there are those drives that are so long and in the worst of weather where I spend ample time over-analyzing every mundane detail of some futile event. On most occasions, though, I am the calmest introspective company for myself.

The best roads are those that are not too far out in the country that I have to focus on not hitting a coyote or finding a road that probably has no sign, but roads that are low-lit and few stops. No distracting glares and no jostling stop and go of traffic.

In the worst of times, driving is always a good option. Breathing slow and deep, concentrating on the road...nothing matters right now but my feet, eyes and hands. Of all the traits of our culture, I'm least ashamed to enjoy driving.

Time?

This is an entirely random topic but it occurred to me at this strange hour and I feel the need to externalize the thought, or rather, series of thoughts. The ideas are constructed like a web much like our infinite abilities toward alogical thinking are--one particular difference between us, as humans, and computers. For now, we are still on top...?

Back to the topic at hand, though. In thinking about time, I have a theory. Let's say for argument's sake that time is generally linear. Easily a topic that can be disputed, particularly in relation to my idea.

Science is almost always in our culture considered the field of absolute truths, the ultimate area of undisputed rhetoric. In relation to time, however, human experience differs quite a lot from the summation of laws and formulas. As human beings, time is fluid and erratic.

In many cases this can be explained with the introduction of substances into the body such alcohol, hallucinogenic drugs, marijuana, etc. The big question I pose is: does the involvement of substances, events or certain mind states truly conclude that the perception of time as erratic (including lethargic or rapid) is invalid?

It is my experience that human experience is the defining truth to all things for us, as human beings. Science fails in many places. Who is to say that our conclusions about time revolving around the sun, moon, etc. are not as equally "false" as the past conclusion that the sun revolves around the earth? We so easily view our past ideas as being primitive beliefs and thus, invalid.

Human experience defines our truths. I believe (and I may easily be incorrect due to the late hour) that it was Brummet that loosely defined truth as contextual, created through human experience. Going off of his work (if it is infact, Brummet), there is also the idea that rhetoric creates truth.

So, if rhetoric creates truth and truth is born from experience, then experience creates rhetoric--a sort of triangle. Perhaps, this idea has already made it's way into many minds or maybe I'm just viewing a new perspective on Aristotle's triangle of rhetoric. Ethos. Pathos. Logos.

To trace this rant on rhetoric back to science and time, science is the creation of recent experience. It is my belief that tomorrow or a decade from now new experiences will create new truths, which will lead us to new "absolute" truths or scientific laws.

At the moment time is rather slow. To me this means it is slow, no matter what my digital clock may say. In my mind, the world I live in and experience knowledge and truth through, time is lackadaisically moseying along.  The typing of these ideas has, according to my digital alarm clock and cell phone only taken under ten minutes. To me, this has taken an hour.

To briefly take this idea further, the ways in which we choose to experience our lives may determine the length of our lives. I may live fifty years according to a doctor, but to me, I may have lived more than a century.

I will leave this thought for the moment and for the opportunity to ponder if, in fact, the thought is worth pondering...