Thursday, November 24, 2011

Being Full of Thanks (and food)

I don't usually indulge in the cheeseyness that often accompanies the holidays, but I feel the need to acknowledge positive things in my life with great gusto these days, (and I love making lists. Rarely complete them, or even remember to take them to the store with me, but I love making them). So! Here we go; with GUSTO!

Things For Which I Am Thankful
(in no particular order)

My job(s). Though lacking in hours, they really do each have their own particular brand of rewarding-ness. The yarn store is a bit self-indulgent, sure, but I love helping people with their knitting and reminding the occasional re-born knitter how to cast on. The kids I teach are loud, annoying, and, well, kids. They're pretty incredible though, they pick up on things quickly, are really creative and clearly, very interested in the subject matter. Then there's my third job (!!!!) the cast of Shakespearience Macbeth was notified last week, and I was one of the lucky members. That's right kids, that's full-time employment for myself starting January 4th 2012, and it's pretty much one of the coolest jobs ever. More on the description of this job later... Much more, actually a whole new blog devoted to it, so keep your eyes peeled.

Yarn. I could ramble on about the loveliness of this stuff for years, but I won't burden my non-knitterly readers with that... YET.

My bed. Try to sell me any fancy thing you like, but my bed is awesome. I've been rockin' the super classy mattress on the floor for over a year now and there is still no bed like one's own bed. Although, thanks to a super awesome friend (see later on the list) I will soon have a bed, a box spring, a frame AND a headboard, for free! Yay!

Showers. I should really be more environmentally conscious on this front, but I love a good, long, hot shower.

Pie.

My family. All in good health? Check. All a little weird? Check. All in one place for Thanksgiving? Check. New members in production? Check. Myself not involved in new-member-production? Double-check!

Wine.

Holiday travel. I can complain about it all I want but I really do enjoy traveling. I feel glamorous and important, even if it's stressful and tiring...and with a less-than-glamorous-looking-me.

My Silly Cat.

My friends. Inspiring. Nice-smelling. Positive. Intelligent. Talented. Generous. Attractive. Thoughtful. Funny. Supportive. Amazing. Make me feel like one lucky mo-fo.

My best friend.

My Extra-Special-Man-Friend.

Being lucky enough to call the last two on the list the same person.

There is, indeed, much, much more that I am neglecting to mention. So just to be safe. Let's make a shout-out to miscellaneous thanks! Thanks... things! And.... Stuff! (Think autumn colors, strangers smiling in a non-creepy-way, nice smells, you know).

Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

It is Now November...


I would like to take this opportunity to try fewer words and more heart. So Here:


I snapped this several years ago. There's a severe light leak in this camera but there's something about this photo that can't help but make me smile. Doesn't it just look like that flower wants to hug you? Who doesn't want a hug from a flower? And yes, it was indeed roughly two feet taller than me. Glorious.

Happy fall, everyone.

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Charles (isn't) in Charge

Disclaimer: I've never actually seen Charles in Charge. I don't know anything about it. I'm assuming a guy named Charles is in there somewhere. I do however, like to throw around references I've heard about but don't know about to see what kind of awkward situations I get into.

A couple weeks ago now I set out on a "Get Hired or Die" mission. I went to two interviews. Well, actually I went to one institution to try to set up an interview because I was unable to attend the glorious "mass interview" process that is the introduction to the corporate retail world. Tragic, I know.

So, I got all kinds of "hire me!"-ed up and confidently breezed into the store with a demure smile that no one could refuse. Knowing me, I also probably had a clump of toilet paper stuck to my shoe, but some people find that endearing. Here's what ensued:

Me: Hi! I wanted to see if I could talk to a hiring manager?

Super Sweet Sales Associate (who I had bothered with this issue on several occasions and is still very polite): Of course! Let me grab her for you.

Me: Thank you. (Stares at a ridiculously beautiful store display)

SSSA: This is _____. She's our hiring manager.

Hiring Manager: I'm so glad you came in! You know we're having a mass interview tomorrow?

Me: Yes. Unfortunately I have a prior commitment which will make me unable to attend the interview tomorrow, so I wanted to see if I could set up a separate interview. (Big Girl language like this is key, but not everything).

Hiring Manager: Okay! Let me just grab you an application and if you could bring in a resume...

Me: I've actually already dropped off my resume and application.

Hiring Manager: Oh! Great! I can't believe we haven't called you yet. What's your availability like?

Me: After Thanksgiving it opens up considerably, but as of now I can't work Tuesday days, Thursdays from noon-3p or Saturday days and I'm doing a play that rehearsals and shows start at 7p. Other than that I'm pretty open though.

(awkward silence, me with a hopeful, naive stare and HM with a pretty blank one.)

HM: Um, well, I really can't use you then. That's probably why we haven't called you.

Me: Okay! Thank you for your time.

HM: Of course! Let me know if anything changes. Or you lose one of those jobs or... something.

This poor woman really didn't know what to say. For the sake of my own self-esteem I'm going to take all of this as they really did want to hire me but really couldn't justify hiring someone with such limited availability. Fair enough.

I would like to note now that working for corporations is something that I'm not usually super excited about. I really enjoy working for locally owned businesses, but in this case I'm a little desperate and just needed to get on the market. I don't have anything earth shatteringly, protest-worthy against corporations, I just generally hate the way the staff is required to operate (anyone that's ever worked at a Hooters can open your eyes on this one).
Who wouldn't want to work at a place that makes old electrical set-ups look this good?

In any case, the next place I went was actually a mass interview and a sister store of the previous location. It was packed full of mostly high school students or freshman in college. I honestly can't tell anymore. I filled out the application, handed it in with my super-sexy looking resume and sat in the store for a good hour and half waiting for my turn to go in the back with my group of children. About forty-five minutes into my wait I smelled something. Something very distinct, something that kicked in a strange craving and made me want to throw up at the same time. I smelled McDonalds. I looked up from the clothing article I was fondling and there he was. Still in his Mickey D's regalia, there was Charles.

Now, anyone who shows up to an interview in their uniform from another job is pretty ballsy, or just a little dumb. I'm guessing Charles is both. I'm pretty sure he was the only one in the building older than me, but it was by at least three decades. I couldn't help but wonder what this fifty-something was doing in this breeding ground for corporate hipsters, so sincerely looking for a job.

When it came time for six of use to squeeze into the little back supply room, Charles was in my group. I have to say that the two of us answered the generic questions the best. We better have, anyone who answers the question, "Why do you want to work here?" With "Um, well, like, this would like, be like, my first job! And like, that's like, awesome!" or the question, "What's your dream job?" with, "Well, I like, really want to be a veterinarian when I like, grow up, so like, I know that doesn't like, have like, anything to do with like, clothes, but like, yeah." (Yes, those were two different interviewees and if I see them working there I will thank my lucky stars I didn't get hired).

Going through the interview process with Charles was a little reality slap in the mouth. It's funny to be how hitting a patch-o-poverty can really force me to realize how lucky I actually am. Good work-ethic was instilled in me from a young age, but sometimes I feel like my pride gets in the way of actually accessing it. I should by applying for a job at McDonalds. I could likely get hired, but the idea of working somewhere that I have so little respect for (that's not really a corporate thing, it's more of a humanity thing) is a little soul-sucking. I've been a bit of a spoiled brat over the last six years with where I've been able to work. A collection of really fabulous local institutions that all reflect the downtown of where I live so wonderfully. Surrounded by lovely people who are constantly finding a release for their creativity through side projects (actually, their job is usually their side project, their work is usually, appropriately, their life).

And so, week three on unemployment embarrassingly continues, and I would like to thank Charles for the much-needed does of perspective. Not to mention the specials I've been watching on Syria lately. I've got a pretty good thing going.

In other news, I've been eating an oddly large amount of apples and bananas lately.

Monday, November 7, 2011

Keeping on the Fuckin' Sunny Side.

Okay, first off let me say knowingly that my attempt to do two posts a week for National Blog Month (what does that even mean?!) has been a miserable failure even though it is only November 7th. Secondly, in hopeless defense, I did try to make this post three days ago, but my iPad battery ran out and blogger failed to auto save the entry I had partially written. My fault, of course, but I do love mesome shoddy excuses.

In any case! Times is tough, kids. Pretty tough. I should relate to you that times is not tough in an Irish Potato famine sort of way, nor in a "I have three kids to feed and no job and can't afford to pay for electricity" way (I don't have kids for that very reason. Well, okay, that's like reason 184). It's hard to pay the bills, sure. But the "tough" I'm talking about is very much a sort of romantisized, struggling to create my art while maintaining a balance to feed both my artistic soul and my physical body.

Yech. I just made myself throw up a bit. You?
Someone posted this on facebook recently. I think it's even better now that NPH actually is married (but still awesome, I should hope).

I fully realize that I could, indeed be making all the money I want, were I not committed to a show which demands much of my free time (and there's been a lot of it these days, trust me), though I will say, even before I was involved with the show, it was pretty darn difficult to get anyone to even look at my (awesome) resume, never mind hand me an application. BUT! I am exceedingly lucky. I have a warm (and pretty awesome) place to sleep. I'm not in debt (except to myself, really). I'm not starving. And I'm surrounded by (mostly) people of uncalibrated awesomeness (more on that later).

Let's be honest, though, this (by "this" I mean the whole white suburban-raised girl struggling artist thing) would all be a lot easier if the art I was creating was... well... Good awesome. That being said, I have been extremely spoiled over the last few years regarding who I've gotten to work with in this very small theater community. Again, I count myself lucky that I'm even in a show at this time of year in this little community.

Somehow it makes it easier and harder at the same time to know that many people around me (not to mention the world) are in the midst of a similar predicament.

Easier because, well, at least I'm not alone. I'm surrounded by people who are just as broke and down trodden as I am.

Harder because... I don't know if you know this, but I'm lucky enough to be surrounded by some of the coolest, smartest, most attractive and talented mother fuckers you've ever seen. My friends are amazing.
And smell nice to boot.

However, I've just passed the mark of two months (under)employed. Fifty bucks a week doesn't take you too far, sometimes just far enough, but it is just enough to start wearing on my wallet, and unexpectedly, my heart.

SO. I did something that many people would find logical for someone in m situation. Something thousands of people do when they get laid-off due to no fault of their own. And something I-nor you-my darling reader(s?), will never tell my mother.

I filed for unemployment.

Honestly, I should have done it a month ago. I have work lined up if January (Full time, most awesome bestest coolest job anyone could ever want), I'm not an alcoholic, I'm not a drug addict, I'm the freaking poster child for unemployment. Seriously, I should be on a poster. Not that anyone's trying to sell the idea of unemployment, but it would be cool to be on a poster.

In a word- I'm an actor. Unemployment LOVES actors. Why? Because we're basically contract workers. We have short-term contracts and when we file for unemployment it's usually because we have another job lined up that prevents us from getting hired at some "real job".

"Why can't you tell your mother?" You may be asking. Well, I would love to answer! But first, I feel that it is very important to give you a brief intro to: My mom. First and foremost. I love my mom. She's a super awesome independent artist, and exceedingly supportive of all my seemingly ridiculous endeavors, she was a single Mom putting herself through grad school while Regan was president (I still don't really know what this means, but when I tell people that, they always seem impressed) and is all-around pretty freaking cool. She also hasn't entered the job market since 1986.

My how things do change.

From discussions we've had recently, the view I think my mother has of unemployment is similar to how need-based scholarships work. For example, were I to apply for unemployment and receive it, that means that someone else who maybe needs it more, wouldn't get it. After a bit of research, that's not how it works at all, but I guess I understand her sentiment. I could argue with her, prove her wrong, etc. but why would I want to start some shit if I didn't need to? My mom is also delightfully stubborn. It's best she just doesn't know, I think it would worry her for my welfare anyway. She also seems to think that future employers check the see if you've been on unemployment and are likely not to hire you if you have been. I'm not sure where that idea comes from, but I think it would be a cute short story.

All that being said, I can't help but feeling horribly, disgustingly ashamed. I'm in my mid-twenties, I have a college degree, I'm able-bodied, I'm qualified to do many things in this world. Like awesomeness. Know anyone hiring for awesomeness?

This too shall pass. I have less than two months to get through and then my life will change entirely, again. Which reminds me, stay tuned for a new blog I'll be starting, hopefully near the end of December. About what, you may ask? Well, I'll give you a hint: English majors everywhere are either about to love me or hate me.
Cat, mentioned previously, but needed another picture. Proving that I'm NOT a crazy cat lady... right...?