I Started Doing the Weirdest Thing! (Thanks Obama)

 Thanks, Obama!

When we were in Sisters, at a Bi Mart (not gay, not straight), the cashier asked if my sweatshirt slogan was being ironic or if I was genuinely thanking Obama. I said both; and gave too long of an explanation that included describing this video.

 

Now, uh, this was something I thought of as a title whilst still composing the last tediously time consuming and long time coming post, and so I scribbled a note so I would not forget. But I lost the note and have completely forgotten. OH YEAH See, THIS is why free writing is so great. I jogged my reluctantly reticent memory glands by simply, well you know. Writing. Or typing rather. Same thing. Same diff.

ANYway, what I was going to say was that The weird thing I started doing was,

 [some indeterminate number of days later]
OKAY. I am unofficially interrupting this blogcast to discontinue that train of thought and get back to basics. How do I get a job that I actually enjoy, keeps me fed, and maybe even housed, and is in a field that works in my favor of moving toward my interest in creative arts? I am not going to answer that right now. It's still the big question, but for me at least, the answer is a slow, sometimes malodorous, procrastinatory, meandering process.

SO. What I want to talk about is the latest probationary, initially unpaid, part-time position I recently accepted. You know how people talk about focusing your intention on your goals, letting go and allowing 'the Universe' to guide you? Bullshit you say? Well, there's a saying that hard work and determination bring about 'good luck'; I guess it's all related. But if you want something and you do everything in your power to get it, or accomplish it, and you don't succeed, it is more of a let down than if you didn't really try. That's why a lot of professional procrastinators are also perfectionists. If they don't do something at all then they can't fail at it. Anyway, I'm just slow. I believe I became very dysfunctional and emotionally disabled after my father died, and I am about ten years behind in life.

When I was originally attending art college (at age 21 a freshman), I remember envying the young woman who worked in the school office. I thought how great it would be to be in that educational environment without the responsibilities of grades and assignments and deadlines for projects; just showing up everyday to help the students and keep things running smoothly. So when I saw an ad for an office assistant at a kids' art school I was like, oh boy oh boy, I gotta try and do that! So I tried. I responded with a short response e-mail, then to be more personal and stand out a little more I found out where the school was and walked over there (my bike was in the shop and it was about an hour walk each way, so I got to exercise too!) and left a resume (freshly typed and printed) on the door, as no one was there. Then we went out of town for a Weird Al Yankovic concert, and I totally forgot I had even applied. That's hard core letting go. Just kidding. But I did really totally forget about it.

So when I got an email saying "I tried calling you to come in and meet, can you call me?" I was like, who? What? Wait a minute ... where was my phone anyway? ... and I emailed back and we set a time and she asked me to bring a cover letter with me, which I thought was strange because it's usually something you send when you are first introducing yourself, and I felt like I had already done that in my original response email, but I said what the heck, I can whip up a cover letter. No big deal. And it turned out she really was more interested in having a writing sample than in my extended credentials, because one of the tasks will be to craft letters based on general information and compose something coherent from a synopsis. As in, write a response to so and so and say this and that, but do it with proper grammar while competently communicating all the facts with a friendly flair. I am fairly confident in my writing skills, although I know I do tend to go on much longer than necessary. Which is why utilising Twitter is really good practice for brevity and creating succinct, concise thoughts in written form. That, as well as doing some online typing tutorials, will be some of my self assigned homework preparation.

Now comes the kicker. I decided that I really wanted this job. I wanted it so much that I said I would work for free for a month to see if she liked my work, and if I really liked the job (and was even any good at it). She was impressed my this, which wasn't my intention, but cool, and agreed to these terms. Now let's say I show up and work and despite being good at the job, either something doesn't click, and we don't get along as well as it seemed we do, or else someone way better in every way pops up and they take over. Even in that case, I will have another notch of  experience on my proverbial belt, and a lot of exercise from bike commuting a few times a week. So! We shall see!

On a related note, although I did really love parts of teaching Y.R., I was very grateful when I saw on the calendar that the training/teacher's meeting had come and gone and I didn't have to go to it. I was a little surprised that I heard nothing from them after politely declining to continue, but when I think about it, if I had such a big problem with their office coordinator's attitude towards me, then she probably felt the same way, and was only inviting me to continue because they were desperate for bodies. It was most likely a more mutual separation than I imagined. Not everyone gets along well.

To finish up, I'll go back to the beginning and say that a few weeks ago I started doing the weirdest thing. I guess all of the stand up comedy and the podcast interviews with great comedians I have been immersing myself in for entertainment has been slowly absorbing and sinking into my skin because I got inspired to start writing semi-autobiographical jokes (but not jokes ... because I don't know how to write jokes). And it's turned into a good portion of a notebook filled with semi tragic stories from my childhood and how they affected me. But the weird thing is that memories that used to bum me out are now starting to appear humourus. And that's a really weird, and very good, thing.

P.S. To anyone besides myself reading this someday, you may notice I lean towards British spellings. This may annoy you. It's not so much intentional as habitual. I prefer not to change for whatever audience might arrive. It's not like my composition or spelling or grammar is always perfect in every other way, so I'll just be myself, which is weird ...  and slightly Anglophiliac.

All the Disturbing Details

 All the Disturbing Details

The silly, frustrating and emotionally draining parts of the great in-between.

This was the supplemental application page on an employment application for Ludeman's Fireplace and Patio as a farm store customer service associate. Number seven is about the strangest question I have ever encountered on a job form.

It asks: "What makes you angry?" I honestly wanted to write something jokey, or else say 'employers who want your social security number before you are even interviewed or hired!' as they did on page one. But I just thought about some things that create emotional ire and wrote that down. This place upset me because after filling out their very personal and detailed form, I didn't hear any response from them. It's a smaller, family owned business and I guess I expected a less corporate style when it came to applicant etiquette. I finally went back in and said I had guessed I wasn't hired, but as there was so much personal information on my application, could they please either assure me that it had been shredded, or else return it to me? They looked for it but couldn't even find it (there wasn't a file somewhere for applications pending or rejected? Seriously disorganized. Amirite?) so I left a note for the person to whom I had originally turned it in asking she call or email. I didn't hear anything, but later received a photocopy of my application in the mail. I am sure they thought I was barmy for caring, or wanting it back, but not even granting me an interview after all that rigmarole was off too.

That whole incident happened while I was working at Walmart Neighborhood Market. I was weary of the monotony of cashiering as well as the teenage supervisors' commonality of condescension. I don't even think they knew they were doing it; it was more like an ingrained superiority in their generation and worldly ignorance, as well as being in minor positions of power at such young ages. Before I was hired there, I had interviews for Fred Meyer store, an independent company's house cleaning business, a Winco store deli worker and a party organizer company's face painter. Toward the end of my brief Spring/Summer tenure there I interviewed for a local cafe and the U.S. post office. Not too much later I got the email about EMS subdesk which didn't involve an interview, but did require fingerprinting and background checks, as well as one lengthy training session. I also had to acquire a new SS card, as I couldn't locate mine, but it was free, so that was not a big problem. I needed to get my fingerprints re-done because the first set were not clear enough because of the photo chemicals at Rite Aid causing skin deterioration. The sheriff's fingerprint tech said this was not unusual as there were many different reasons and professions that caused prints to be unclear. It was a pretty cool experience actually, as I was there by willing participation and not by force or lack of choice.

I have had job prospects that required three interviews, jobs that had cursory meetings and then right to signing the paperwork, and ones that involved nothing more than showing up with an i.d. Hiring practices are all so different and almost impossible to predict in advance. Sometimes being overly prepared pays off, and sometimes you would do better to go in with a 'I just don't give a fuq' attitude.

Technically I am now employed, I think (because I only worked a dozen or so shifts through them), by the EMS subdesk, BUT—after biking an hour each way to Walmart, it was very difficult to transition to driving long ways, and their system of picking up shifts depended on checking their website daily, which I was not very consistent about. I thought somehow it might lead to actual assistant teaching, or substitute teaching, but that requires a state certificate which, despite online research, still befuddles me concerning its mysterious acquisition. If only I had done that my second time through college ... but I didn't know what I know now. So I worked in a few different school cafeteria kitchens, on some playgrounds, in a couple of elementary classrooms, and one high school special needs class where I witnessed another sub be an asshole and criticize the way a kid was eating his pizza. I desperately wanted to say something and found myself so dumbfounded I was totally tongue-tied. I can still relive the moments like an out of body experience, and I wish I had a do-over.
Still, it was very cool how they asked me to work for them instead of the other way around, and if I can still get some gigs through their online network, it would be great. I will investigate that soon!

The housecleaning job had promise, but it did require auto insurance and driving. I would have had to buy a light weight vacuum with attachments. I was so intent on actually accepting the position were it offered, that I went directly to Goodwill after the interview to peruse used vacuum machines. The business owner was a great person, but one of the reasons she needed help, besides trying to expand her business, was a debilitating back injury. I had future flashes (or is it flash backs) of starting the job, which is basically pretty vigorous physical labour, and sustaining a similar injury. So when soon offered the Walmart job, I chose that, despite it paying less per hour. I also had some poor memories of a short stint as a house cleaner with Merry Maids in California when I was eighteen. It was rather depressing going into homes of very privileged wealthy families and cleaning toilets. In all the bathrooms. Why do people need more than one bathroom? I know, it's not need, but luxury, but still.

Walmart was, overall, much better than I had expected. I actually gave notice and an explanation, and left on good terms, which has not been my M.O. for most of my life. There was also an odd coincidence of the subdesk main office being a mere two minute bike ride from the Walmart store. And my former boss Danny from Tuesday Morning store in the Rite Aid basement is all of a sudden the store manager at the Tuesday Morning location nearby to that. Just coincidence, but interesting.

So I had re-applied online for the post office (the year before I had applied and tested for it, but missed the interview because of missed-call-phone-tag-negligence) and I actually took a day off work to attend the mass effect group combo interview and information session downtown. Well, I was super excited when I found out about the job at the local post office because it is within walking distance, but this time around it was for far off hand delivery carriers. Still, I wanted to try. Ever since I was a tot and preferred the mail delivery truck to the other 'Little People' toys to when I was a bit older and discovered the joys of sending and receiving mail, I have been a big fan of the post office. When I was a disturbed teenager the post office was about the only place an underage person could go to hang out without spending any money. It sounds weird now, but at the time it was comforting. Maybe if churches didn't lock their doors at night I would have found solace sitting and reading in a pew instead of on the counter in the local postal. I was confused about the signing in process, and even though I was quite early I ended up near the bottom of the list, which they ended up using for calling people out of one room into another, set up with lots of chairs and about fifteen interviewers. I did not do that great, but I am happy I gave it some effort. I no longer feel that the postal service would be a good place for me. It had the strong allure of very decent paychecks, but I will stick to my letter writing and stamp collecting. I could see myself doing it as a temporary experience, but in the long run I could not be confident that I would do a consistently perfect job, which is obviously very important. Lost or missing mail is no laughing matter, eh?

So later, I had this interview for a cafe job. Like I do with almost every job I apply for, I envision myself working there and what it would be like, and how I would do well and move up in the company and learn a lot. Concerning the cafe, I thought it might give me the intel to someday have my own cafe. This is just a mix of daydream fantasy and convincing myself it's not only okay, but important to settle for what you don't really want and treat it as an opportunity to become someone different. By the time I got to the location, it turned out I was early still, but as time went on, the owner was becoming later and later and I got the very strong feeling that I should run and not look back. Sometimes if you really want to walk away it's just nerves, and sometimes it's exactly what you should do; but you have to be okay with the results. For some reason there were two people interviewing me, one very young girl and one older woman. They older woman called me old and said it would be a change from the young students they normally hire. Well, fuck you very much. I smiled and said something about experience, but really I felt like shit. I didn't have a working phone so was relying on Steve for messages at the time, and when they called I assumed it was a job offer, not even bothering to call back I used that as my given reason for quitting Walmart. I did later call back and left a message but never found out "Wha Hoppen"? I probably would not have loved it.

Face painting job. Embarrassed much? Yes. Yes I am, thank you. The irony is that later I ended up face painting as a volunteer at a school festival and loved it as much as I had thought I would. I only wished I had more experience so I could have been better and faster.
Chronologically, I don't even remember exactly where this one fit in, except that it was definitely before Walmart. It was bad before it even began. I didn't think I should even have to interview, but just hired on trial or something and see how it worked out on both sides. The whole concept of interviewing causes me high anxiety. I think they should just call it 'having a meeting'. I was just on time and they make me fill out an application. This bothers me because the preliminaries were done by email, and they easily could have had me do this in advance. So I am feeling terribly awkward and annoyed since I felt thoughtless lack of planning on their part, as well as frustration that I didn't have all the numbers and references the form asked for with me. Then I had to wait for what seemed like a long time before a young and overly pretty hiring manager invited me up a narrow staircase to talk.
I'm afraid I was so irritated by this time that I insulted her by implying that she was obtuse for asking me a question I had already answered on the paper she was staring at. I thought I was a washout by the end, but for ... reasons (?) she sent me directly from there for a pre-employment drug test. Due to a broken toilet paper dispenser I thought was a reasonable shelf space, I spilled the pee cup; on myself. I screamed and explained to (the male) tester what happened and why I flushed the toilet when I wasn't supposed to. I got no sympathy and felt depressed. They didn't have me redo the test. Yes Virginia, Karma IS a bitch.

I applied for an assistant school librarian job, which I really, really wanted; they sent an email saying the position had been filled, but thank you for your interest!
 I applied online at New Seasons grocery store (I have heard that they pay exceptionally well compared with similar positions elsewhere, and also let their employees take home lots of free food rather than throw it away.). They left a message inviting me for an interview, but it was so much later after my Walmart experience I didn't think I wanted to be in the grocery business anymore, despite the many positives.

 When I started being a SMART volunteer in the Fall I was nervous about whether I would be very good at reading with kids, but I really wanted to try it, and I am happy to say I will be returning this year to continue. No pay, obviously, but still must be counted as a Success!

Although I had told Young Rembrandts I would be returning this year, after a couple emails from the office manager I was reminded of all the negatives about the situation, and after some inner battles back and forth I chose to apologise and decline to continue with them. More sordid details later. In the meantime, I have an interview a meeting tomorrow with an independent art school office!

Procrastination Subordination

                                     El Es Es/Te El;De Ar

LSS =Long Story Short. (But it never is. Like in this South Park clip)

TL;DR=Too Long;Didn't Read. (Because I am aware I over explain. )

If I needed further proof of my nearly professional level of procrastination, it's clearly demonstrated here, since my continual promises (to myself) to post on even a semi regular basis have gone totally unheeded. The biggest problem with being a serial procrastinator, besides being late a lot (+missing deadlines and opportunities altogether), is (unintentionally) frequently lying to people you care about.

 I have read that professional writers go to retreats and essentially lock themselves away somewhere free from distractions. That makes a lot of sense if the pros share any of the procrastinatory tendencies that I, a total amateur, possess. If there's nothing around but your project, then that's what you work on. But if there's a messy apartment, and chores to do, and internet ... well, then.

Often it is incomprehensible to me how I can show such determination and be so stubborn about some things, and yet exhibit classic delaying tactics for tasks I claim to enjoy and want to pursue. Because of course there have been times I have accomplished things and challenged myself when I was really motivated and psychologically ready. This dichotomy is very frustrating and personally, quite depressing. 

It has been said that things are not nearly as scary or intimidating as you imagine them to be, but we all build up these mental walls around certain things and challenge ourselves to climb them, when it wasn't ever really necessary. People also quip: You get out of it what you are willing to put into it. So the rewards are commensurate with the work and effort. Despite knowing this, I just can't get a  good grasp on what it is exactly that I am supposed to be accomplishing, or where to focus my energy. The irony is that when I was completely unemployed, without immediate prospects, I said, 'Well, now at least I have time to write and make art! No excuses besides looking for meaningful work!' And didn't do much at all.

However, here I am again; I haven't totally quit or given up, so judgment aside, I will continue my saga. Since I last wrote, I have had lots of positive experiences, so I will work backwards in a way, starting with those, and then describe some of the earlier, more sordid details and failures next time. 

I had so much fun doing kid's face painting as a volunteer at a school field day that I started daydreaming about doing it as a job. I finally put in the effort and completed a portrait of my friend's mom who had passed away almost three years ago, and presented it to him. I finished the year out as a S.M.A.R.T. http://www.getsmartoregon.org/ volunteer, even taking on an extra day when someone dropped out. This was a fairly big deal for me since I often quit or flake on responsibilities. I even added a volunteer day in their book room (I think I have mentioned I used to want to work in a library/school environment, and this came pretty close to perfection, even though it was unpaid). I did my requisite forms and minimum ten shifts (to qualify to continue the next year) as an unlicensed substitute with an organization that provides subs for the public school district. And, finally, I applied and interviewed to teach pre-fabricated art classes to kids and did that for three days a week.

Despite being so busy all Spring, I ended up gaining a lot of weight, mostly due to needing to drive to the teaching and subbing locations, rather than my usual bicycle mode of transportation. So I essentially gained back all I had lost last Summer when I was biking an hour each way to Walmart. So now I am watching a lot of Extreme Weight Loss reality TV and Body Positive Yoga. https://www.youtube.com/user/bodypositiveyoga

I feel that if I watch enough shows like this, eventually I am bound to get motivated to move. 

Alrighty then chaps, that's it for now. Cheers.

 

Your Karma Ran Over My Dogma

Since my last visit here,  I have had six interviews, three pre-employment drug tests, three and a half job offers, and completed numerous online and hard copy applications. I also had my fingerprints done at the local Sheriff's office, and got a replacement for my lost social security card. My passport however, is still MIA since we last moved. I would really like to know where it's hiding. And why.


I also had a ton of amazing experiences I would not have had without Harley, the adorable pit mix we were taking care of as a good deed for a young woman on Craig's List who needed a temporary home while in the process of moving.

Because he got me out of the apartment, by necessity, and inspired me to go to local, yet unexplored places 'for his sake', I found out that there are things you can do as long as a dog is with you, that are socially acceptable, that you couldn't do otherwise without appearing terribly awkward. Very much like having a human child with you automatically allows comfortable access to many places it just seems weird to be without one. I think this sucks, but it's the social normality system in place right now and one cannot really avoid it.

So I could talk out loud (to him) and randomly stop and stare off into the distant sky (because dogs) or walk off a trail onto a less beaten path and cut through an area I wouldn't have felt very safe in if I was alone.

This dog was so damn cute that every time I went outside with him, even just around the block, I (he) got so many compliments that I soon expected to have an ego boost everyday. I should only be so lucky as to get as much adoration and attention as that guy got from strangers all the time, but I felt the glow just being associated with him.

He was like a minor celebrity or a rock star at our apartment building. We talked more to our neighbors when he was around than we ever had before. The grownups wanted to feed and pet him and the kids wanted to play with him. He was great and made a positive impact on my life, and I bet he would have inspired me to finally try camping, but as much as I thought I needed him (I only go on walks or bike rides now if I have to go somewhere, not for fun or exercise), I know his owner mom needed him more, so I had to let him go. But I cried when he was gone. I'm now trying to convince Steve that a teacup pig is a fantastic idea ...