Pants on Fire

I can very seriously say that I am a truly honest person. I'm not a good liar, I have no desire to lie to people, and it's just my nature to be forthcoming. In fact, I may be bit too honest. I'm sure the significant other would be thrilled if every now and then I omitted the occasional truth. But alas, it's not my style (see "The  Mole Incident"). Take me as I am, sister, for better or for worse.

Unless, of course, it has anything to do with getting a job, keeping a job, or working in general. I can't quite describe what happens to the "professional me" but the change is drastic. Let's just say that I become a shameless pathological liar. I have to admit that I am phenomenal at the interview process. I have literally landed every single job that I've interviewed for. When thinking about why or how this happens I realized what it is that makes me so hireable. I simply lie my ass off. I know exactly what employers want to hear and how they want to hear it. Follow these guidelines and you're golden:

1. Easy one: Always give a firm handshake when making introductions while making clear eye contact and smiling. Say "it's a pleasure to meet you" not "nice to meet you". Pleasure is classier. Make sure not to overdo it with the firm handshake- no one's looking for a ball-crushing lesbian.

2. Somehow manage to throw into the conversation that you are looking for something very long term. You are never looking to leave. You will never move. You will never have children. You live to work. You love long hours. You're looking for a career not a job. You're self-motivated. You'll do whatever it takes to get the job done. (this is about the time when I fear the lightening coming to strike me dead)

3. Delivery is key. You must always carry an aura of "cool confidence". Again, eye contact is key with this. Try to never say "umm" or "yeah". Use works like certainly and feasibility. You're energetic but articulate.

4. Once you have them drooling over your staggering professionalism- you give them a sense of urgency. You never want them to think you need the job. This is very important. You want them to know that you are very interested in the position and very excited about the opportunity. Their your first choice, but you don't need them. This is when I hit them with another lie... "I should let you know that I do I have an offer pending with another company". BAM. This is a winner for so many reasons. A- They know that you are in high demand, B-This is leverage to get the salary you want,  and C- They are more likely to act quickly with an offer. It's my favorite move.

5. Obviously make sure you look incredible. I like to go with a 3-piece black pin-stripe dress suit with killer heels. Men will think you're hot (you're hired) and women will appreciate that you're covered up.

SO yeahh. See what I mean? I hope karma and the Universe aren't too upset with me. Again, it's only the professional me that lies uncontrollably. And I'm pretty honest about lying.

Moley Moley Moley

Today marks the 2 month date since I was laid off.  I'm trying to think of my accomplishments over the past 60 days...

...

Well, I did do a LOT of laundry. I organized my closest, I've sewed some buttons, visited the grocery store about 48 times. I can't tell you how grateful I am when we run out of something. We're out of garlic?! I'll have to run out and get some right away. That sad visit to Ralph's will be my greatest accomplishment of the day. And I'll be honest about something else. Getting the mail is simply exhilarating. It has to be my favorite part of my day.

Believe me, I'm not complaining. I think about my mental state 3 months ago and I cringe. I was always tired, always on edge, overwhelmed with anxiety, never had any time for myself. Clearly that's changed. But there has to be balance. The other day I found a mole that I didn't know I had. I never noticed it before because it's in a rather... complicated... part of my body. I obsessed over it for hours- clearly it's melanoma. How could a creepy mole appear in an area  that I can positively guarantee you has never seen the sun??? When I told my boyfriend that we had to make each moment count because my days are numbered he asked the question that changed everything. "How the hell did you find that?" I had to explain that since I've been laid off I've had a lot of time on my hands... even time to conduct full body mole checks with a mirror after my showers...daily. He gave me the saddest look. A look of pure horror mixed with fear and concern. That was the moment I decided that I need to get a job.

Not that I'll be chaining myself to a cubicle again. As long as the unemployment checks keep pouring in I'm looking for cash jobs only. I need to make about $2,000 cash/month to supplement the unemployment money. So what's the easiest way for a female in their 20's to make cash? If it weren't for the aforementioned mole I think we all know I'd be naked in some guys basement in the Valley right about now. Seeing as that dream has been shattered I'm going to look for nanny jobs. I'm actually going to nanny tonight for 3 hours ($45 making in rainnn). In addition to the numbing boredom I'm motivated to start working ASAP because I don't want to blow through my savings. The Great Escape is about a year and a half away!

Oh and don't worry- this won't become a Nanny-Diary-type blog. Children freak me out.

SO Now What!?!

Ah, the inevitable question. After a lay-off this along with the 'so how's your job search going?' question are unavoidable. I suppose it might not occur to the average person that a 'job search' would interfere with my afternoon movie marathons. My dad literally called me 2 days after he found out I got laid off to ask me about my five-year plan. No joke. Umm, if you offered me $10,000 to give you my 5 day plan I would have some difficulty. This is my favorite part of that conversation... My dad adds his opinion that I have gone wrong in the past because I have worked for smaller companies and I should really consider going after something "more corporate".  (pause for effect). Good to know we're on the same page. I was tempted to email him a link to this blog and turn off my phone for a month. 

So what is my plan? My plan is just this: I will travel to visit my family in Indiana, and then my mother who lives overseas. That takes me to the end of March when I will be back in LA.  At that point I will find whatever job(s) will pay cash so I can ride the system as much as possible (unless of course you work for the State of CA in which case I have been open and available for work, I have been actively looking for work, and I have not left the country at all). Perhaps I'll become the super nanny of LA. Disregard my open disdain of small children and I'm sure it'll become annoying to constantly dodge sexual advances from frustrated husbands who aren't getting laid by their perma-pregnant wives, but the pay is good and most importantly- it's cold hard cash. I nannied in college and to this day that was my most lucrative job. Or perhaps a bohemian book store in Venice? The sky is my limit. As long as there aren't cubicles involved I'm happy. 

We're leaving in 2 years for our trip around the world. Does that mean I need to re-enter life behind a cubicle to become a cerebral prostitute again? What if I can make just as much money nannying for the next two years? Bike rides to yoga, jogs on the beach, travel whenever I want, energy for nightly shags (unless of course I'm too tired after yoga).... sounds pretty incredible to me. 

My dad will be so proud. 

FREEDOM

Sooo where to begin??? I apologize for my 2 week absence but once I explain myself to you I think we'll be juuuust fine. Here we go...

18 days ago I walk into work- coming down from my weekend, stiffled by an overwhelming feeling of dread, filled with anxiety- just a normal Monday. The Friday before, I had a serious talk with Sue (the owner), James, and our head of HR. They made it very clear that I was to begin making sales calls on Monday. So there I was, ready for battle. I obsessed all weekend about the goddamn calls. But I have to say, I got to a good place. I decided that the Universe clearly intended for me to make cold calls for some ungodly reason. But you have to trust the Universe. Maybe I murdered a baby in my past life and I was being punished accordingly? Makes sense.

As soon as I arrive James tells me that we need to speak with the Head of HR- just the three of us. Yeah gurl, that's right. Just the three of us. As we all know I'm no novice when it comes to getting canned. Let's just say if you get pulled into HR first thing in the morning with your immediate supervisor it's usually not regarding your candidicy for employee of the month. So there we were. I knew exactly what was coming. I was calm as a newborn suckling mother's milk. Silence. Finally HR girl goes for it.

"We all talked after our meeting on Friday and we've decided to make today your last day."

Holy shitpenis. My heart skips a beat. Is it true?? This is the moment that I have been plotting since I stepped foot inside of my tiny cubicle. She goes on to say it's not me, it's the position that doesn't work. They're taking my position and making it two full-time positions. One entry level admin, one highly experienced sales person. I'm pretty sure she said something about everyone being cripilingly devistated to see me go- something about I'm the most attractive person the company has ever seen. I can't recall. I was too busy planning the rest of my life. I said my goodbyes, took my severace check, some office supplies (don't you dare judge me- I just lost my job and stamps are like $4 each these days) and off I went to unleash my newfound freedom.

SO these past two weeks have been filled with bike riding to yoga, afternoon movie marathons, and meeting friends for drinks. I even applied for a job. That's right- working part-time for a sculpture garden. I'll keep you updated. As hard as it is to make myself get behind a computer, I'll do it for you. That's love right there.

Here's to hoping you all get laid off soon!! :) WOOOOOO HOOOOOO

dammmmmmmn it

So the day has finally arrived. I knew this day was coming. I could smell it. I could feel it in my bones. And I was right.

Sue pulled me into her office just now. I knew it was serious because the head of HR was already in the meeting along with James who was quivering in the corner. Somehow I got the feeling that I was not getting promoted. Long story short- If I don't make sales calls I will be fired.

I realized as I was sitting there that the only thing that I haven't tried yet is actually making the sales calls. So will I cross over to the dark side? The answer is yes, yes I will. I will whore my services from 8:30am-5:30pm 5 days a week. I'm officially a prostitute. I will make the sales calls beginning next week. This blog may suffer from my productivity, but I will always return. I will come back to you.

Goodbye for now. (Let's be honest I'll see you Monday)

I Have A Dream...

As an African American, I am deeply offended by the fact that I am sitting and writing this blog post from..... (pause for effect)........ WORK. That's right. I'm at work. On Martin Luther King Jr Day. What kind of fucked up world is this where employers overlook the significance of this historic day?! Oh- is the owner of the company here? You know because alllll her employees most certainly are here (except the smart ones who are 'sick' today) and it would only be fair. It's funny. I haven't seen her. All day. I heard something about a ski trip. Interesting.

I heard the best story about this company. Apparently a few years ago our company did have MLK Day off. Nice right? Oh I forgot, you had to be blac AFRICAN AMERICAN to have the day off. Dead serious. So all us whities and Asians were just screwed. Um reverse racism much?

Soooo I don't mean to belittle the atrocities suffered long ago but I do feel the need to point something out.  I'm at work.... against my will.... confined in a small area... unable to leave or move freely. Does this sound at all familiar???????

Just sayin...

A Girl Needs Her Gay

For those of you poor souls out there who don't have a flamboyantly homosexual boss, I feel for you. I have had the misfortune of working for the heteros more times than I would like to admit. The straights are the worst. This is the first time I've had the extreme pleasure of working for a gay man. He is the light of my life day. Whenever the owner of the company gets all in my grill (which happens to be daily) over making sales calls, booking more interviews, or whatever has her panties in a twist that day- James always has my back. And not just in a "well I'll go talk to HR" kind of way- but in a "ahhh hell no she didn't say that to you" and then storms into her office to tell her off kind of way. My little gay man heart skips a beat every time he comes to my rescue. I love him. I want to hang out with him on the weekends and watch Jersey Shore marathons (it's his favorite show btw) while sipping strawberry margaritas and painting eachothers' nails. I want to go to Fire Island and Palm Springs so we can let loose and be all kinds of gay. In other words, he makes me want to be a gayer man.

Here are some highlights of James' amazingness: The other day our division received a scathing email from a very big client of ours. It ripped us a new one saying how he plans to take his business elsewhere because we weren't able to fill a position he needed, we suck, etc. I was horrified that James would be angry that a client was so upset and we would have to kiss the clients ass to get him back. I was wrong. James wrote us a long email about how this guy is a joke and we don't specialize in the type of position he wanted us to fill (I work for a staffing agency PS). This is the kicker... James ended the email by saying "don't worry guys you're doing a great job. He just sucks so POO POO to him." HA!! I peed a little when I saw this. This is an email I got today from him:

Noel

Noel

No L’s

NO L’S

All the L’s are done……

I literally have no idea what he's talking about. But all I know is that I love him. For those of you who are unhappy in your jobs ask yourself this- is your boss a raging hetero? because if he/she is you need to get out now. As in get yourself all dolled up in some hot pants and some sexy heels, put on the makeup (regardless of your gender), pound some shots, get yourself to West Hollywood and start NETWORKING SOME GAYS. It's the only way to survive this corporate bullshit.

Midnight Erotica

As much as I hate this expression I have to use it. I have a violent case of the Mondays. I'm honestly crippled with depression today because A- I know I won't be jogging on the beach anytime soon B-I'm not allowed to drink pomosas before noon whilst working and C- the owner is all over me to make sales calls.

Have I mentioned I hate sales calls? Well I do. I reallllly fucking hate them. I'd rather spend a week in a jail cell alone with J-Lo, Mark McGrath, and Antoine Dodson than make 1 cold call. Just explain this to me. Why would I want to call people while they're working, interrupt their work, and try to get them to do things they don't want to do? Not my idea of a good time. In fact, it's my own personal nightmare. These days my dreams consist of incredibly-erotic-dirty-novel-status-sex-dreams OR thrashing-in-my-sleep-wake-up-with-the-sweats-because-I'm-having-a-panic-attack dreams. Guess which one I prefer? Every cold call nightmare is then in essence robbing me of a night of erotica. Fuck that. Cold calls are ruining my life. Sue (the owner of the company) is on my ass everyday to make more and more calls. She makes me send in a list of the calls I make daily. Without fail, she always has something bitchy to say back. My anxiety level is at a code red. All because of cold calls. Pitiful. Last week was my first week of calls. Here are the responses Sue sent me regarding my daily call log:

We can try and meet tomorrow for a bit. Would like to see a few more calls made. How many are you making?

Stay on top of all the ones who tell you they have another agency. Also how many actually calls today?

Many of these names are not spelled correctly so always be ACCURATE

Ouch. Maybe I am dyslexic? But did anyone notice how she said "how many actually calls today"? Yeah.... not so accurate, are we? I'm now at a point where I can't figure out if I want to get fired or not. This job is obviously instrumental in our Great Escape  and.... you know... survival. But at what cost????? My midnight erotica? Ah hell no. Universe, can you hear me? Do you read my blog? All I need is about $30K to pick up and go. PLEASE send me $30K. I promise I will do good things in this world. Perhaps I should consider cold calling random people and asking for money? Eh?

A Touch of Class

Contrary to popular belief, I am actually an extremely classy broad. One of the classiest I dare say. I enjoy a fine wine, a strong cheese, an old map, leather-bound books, a good magnifying glass... you get my drift. And don't even get me started on libraries. Libraries are one of my greatest passions in life. The older and mustier the better. Perhaps my love of libraries stemmed from the famous scene in Beauty and the Beast-where Belle is swinging on a ladder over floor-to-ceiling books, or from my semester abroad in Paris, or perhaps it started in the 6th grade when I let R.J. Lemere go up my shirt in our middle school library. Your guess is as good as mine. My point is, I'm bringing some class into the lives of my readers starting today.

During one of my daily trips to our local book store, I picked up one of those sad self-help books that any reasonable person would deny reading. Well, I picked it up and read it proudly (OK I had it hidden within another book), but I found a little story I think we can all learn from... Enjoy...

It was a curious thing. Robert had filled the bathtub and put the fish in the tub, so he could clean the tank. After he'd scrubbed the film from the small walls of their make-believe deep, he went to retrieve them. He was astonished to find that, though they had the entire tub to swim in, they were huddled in a small area the size of their tank. There was nothing containing them, nothing holding them back. Why wouldn't they dart about freely? What had life in the tank done to their natural ability to swim?

This quiet yet stark moment stayed with us both for a long time. We couldn't help but see those little fish going nowhere but into themselves. We now had a life-in-the-tank lens on the world and wondered daily, In what ways are we like them? In what ways do we go nowhere but into ourselves? In what ways do we shrink our world so as to not to feel the press of our own self-imposed captivity?

Life in the tank made me think of how we are raised at home and in school. It made me think of being told that certain jobs are not acceptable and that certain jobs are out of reach, of being schooled to live a certain way, of being trained to think that only practical things are possible, of being warned over and over that life outside of the tank of our values is risky and dangerous.

I began to see just how much we were taught as children to fear life outside of the tank. As a father, Robert began to question if we was preparing his children for life in the tank or life in the uncontrollable world.

It makes me wonder now, in middle age, if being spontaneous and kind and curious are all parts of our natural abilities to swim. Each time I hesitate to do the unplanned or unexpected, or hesitate to reach and help another, or hesitate to inquire into something I know nothing about, each time I ignore the impulse to run in the rain or call you up just to say I Love You- I wonder, Am I turning on myself, swimming safely in the middle of the tub?

Hall of Shame

Let's go over some do's and don'ts for submitting headshots on one's resume.

First of all, don't. That's right, there's really no need to include a headshot of yourself when applying for a $15/hour Executive Assistant position. The only exception to this is if you are incredibly good looking and you know what I mean when we say that we need "polished professionals" for this position. No offense, but there doesn't seem to be a whole lot of polished professionalism going on. Legally, I can't discriminate based on age, gender, race, sexual orientation, etc. When you submit a pic of yourself it puts us in an awkward situation. Plus, don't you want to get the interview? Based on these pictures I'm not sure what your objective is.

If you're going to send a picture, my advice is to make sure it looks something like the following:

This girl gets it. She's attractive. She knows it- great. What I'm mostly impressed by is that her rack is appropriately covered and she's not doing anything creepy. Sold.

... I can't quite say the same for the following headshots. Why anyone would want to send pics like these on a Resume is beyond me, but these are in the Don't category: (Remember folks, you're trying to get an interview/job.)

WTF? The most heinous part of this picture isn't the fact that he's sleeping, it's that he's wearing a puka shell necklace. There is never an excuse for puka shells. Shame on you.

If I can see the top of your titays.... it means you're not quite grasping the polished professional look we're going for.

Ummm yeah... not much to say about this one other than you're creepy and I'm not bringing you in for an interview