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.)