I am I a bad person just because I joined FaceBook for the sole reason of annoying my nephew into giving me his Christmas list? Probably. But that’s what technology is for, right? Shaming the ones that you love into doing what you want?
It’s a hectic race down to the day after Thanksgiving now. The Tired Girl Collective will be at the Handmade for the Holidays event at the Fairfax High School and I am…not quite prepared yet. But I will be! Well…I hope I will be. We are planning a low key Thanksgiving just for this reason. But, also, because it’s just the two of this time, although I will say, it’s pretty darn hard to find a turkey that weighs less than 12 pounds. I was ready to go for Cornish hens myself.
Heh, I just very dramatically reached for my headphones to signify to my co-workers that I do not want to hear their reviews of current books or movies…and for once it actually worked and they moved away from my desk. This is the problem with the open floor plan office, you are subject to the conversations of EVERYONE ELSE. And quite frankly, I don’t care what they thought of the movies they saw this weekend! And let me just mention here that I was given a wonderful pair of noise canceling headphones for my birthday and my co-workers appear to be the only thing that these headphones CAN’T cancel. They’re loud. Very loud. And proud of it.
Ok, back to work so I can go home, shop for all the Thanksgiving ingredients so that I can then work on things to be sold at the craft fair. Sigh. Never ending.
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Monday, November 19, 2007
Monday, October 22, 2007
Suited.
Ah, who knew that mentioning hose could stir up trouble? I did. But jeez, with all the silly things I say, why you choose to comment on hose is beyond me. But it does remind me of the rules of interviews, as I was taught them anyway.
Did you get some sort of instruction in college or high school on interviewing for a job? A little advice or maybe even a class or a seminar? I am pretty sure I had SOMETHING but I really don’t remember what. I do know, however, that on the east coast, when interviewing for pretty much any job, in the nineties and before I should say, who knows what people expect now, it was strongly recommended that one wear business clothes and when in doubt, err on the side of formal. Suit and tie for a guy. Suit, heels and hose for a girl. And when I say any job, I mean any job. I was in charge of interviewing people for a shoe sales position and if they showed up in jeans, they were not considered. Period. (Although, I do know that one girl I worked with interviewed in nice slacks, heels and a cropped sweater and got the job. I wouldn’t have hired her but I am not a dude. And for the record, she was a nice person and did ok as a sales person but could not be trusted to make change at the cash register because she couldn’t really count.)
I am pretty sure that I went to every job interview I ever had at that time in a pretty formal business suit. Probably something staid and navy blue. Eh. Not my thing but yes, appropriate. I am also pretty sure that if I felt the need to show any individuality on a job interview I did it with a slightly funky bag or piece of jewelry.
Then I moved to California. New rules. New rules that I did not know and I could have never guessed. I showed up at interviews in my summer suit. Navy blue with white trim and blue heels. I got told that I was “overqualified” (OK, I probably was for at least one of those jobs but certainly not for all of them) and that I seemed “so serious!” And I couldn’t figure it out. I was properly dressed; I had a decent resume with no typos. What was wrong?
It wasn’t until I got a “drop off your portfolio” type of interview…where you don’t really interview but you drop off your samples and your resume and then if they like them, they will call you for a proper interview. Now, I was probably not really qualified for the job but hey, I was a textbook illustrator and a digital artist and damn if I was not going to apply for any job that I was even vaguely qualified for. I dressed up, dropped off my book and subsequently got the call to come pick it up…no interview. Fine, didn’t really expect one. I also did not expect to run into the guy who actually got the job in the lobby. And, for that matter, I did not expect his name to be “Crash” or for his pants to be baggy and sagging down past his boxer shorts due to the huge wallet chain. And aside from that, I didn’t expect him to be wearing yellow bug-eye glasses and to have his hair in a Mohawk. Nope, didn’t expect that at all. Look, I know I work in a fairly “creative” field but really? Really?
So I rethought every thing I knew. I went out and bought a new suit, but this time I kept it a little more casual. Scuba style jacket and short skirt, tee shirt underneath, funky chunky shoes and a man’s chunky watch. I retired my beautiful linen and leather satchel and replaced it with one made from recycled tires and seatbelts. Same me. Same sample book. But now, I had job offers.
And for the record, I still wore hose, because that’s what I was told to do when going to a job interview. Saved me too, the skirt was too big on the new suit and it got twisted around and I found myself in a casual interview, sitting next to the guy who might be my new boss with my skirt hitched up way too high and the kick pleat slit that should have been in the back now in the front. Believe me, I was glad to have the hose on that day.
Did you get some sort of instruction in college or high school on interviewing for a job? A little advice or maybe even a class or a seminar? I am pretty sure I had SOMETHING but I really don’t remember what. I do know, however, that on the east coast, when interviewing for pretty much any job, in the nineties and before I should say, who knows what people expect now, it was strongly recommended that one wear business clothes and when in doubt, err on the side of formal. Suit and tie for a guy. Suit, heels and hose for a girl. And when I say any job, I mean any job. I was in charge of interviewing people for a shoe sales position and if they showed up in jeans, they were not considered. Period. (Although, I do know that one girl I worked with interviewed in nice slacks, heels and a cropped sweater and got the job. I wouldn’t have hired her but
I am pretty sure that I went to every job interview I ever had at that time in a pretty formal business suit. Probably something staid and navy blue. Eh. Not my thing but yes, appropriate. I am also pretty sure that if I felt the need to show any individuality on a job interview I did it with a slightly funky bag or piece of jewelry.
Then I moved to California. New rules. New rules that I did not know and I could have never guessed. I showed up at interviews in my summer suit. Navy blue with white trim and blue heels. I got told that I was “overqualified” (OK, I probably was for at least one of those jobs but certainly not for all of them) and that I seemed “so serious!” And I couldn’t figure it out. I was properly dressed; I had a decent resume with no typos. What was wrong?
It wasn’t until I got a “drop off your portfolio” type of interview…where you don’t really interview but you drop off your samples and your resume and then if they like them, they will call you for a proper interview. Now, I was probably not really qualified for the job but hey, I was a textbook illustrator and a digital artist and damn if I was not going to apply for any job that I was even vaguely qualified for. I dressed up, dropped off my book and subsequently got the call to come pick it up…no interview. Fine, didn’t really expect one. I also did not expect to run into the guy who actually got the job in the lobby. And, for that matter, I did not expect his name to be “Crash” or for his pants to be baggy and sagging down past his boxer shorts due to the huge wallet chain. And aside from that, I didn’t expect him to be wearing yellow bug-eye glasses and to have his hair in a Mohawk. Nope, didn’t expect that at all. Look, I know I work in a fairly “creative” field but really? Really?
So I rethought every thing I knew. I went out and bought a new suit, but this time I kept it a little more casual. Scuba style jacket and short skirt, tee shirt underneath, funky chunky shoes and a man’s chunky watch. I retired my beautiful linen and leather satchel and replaced it with one made from recycled tires and seatbelts. Same me. Same sample book. But now, I had job offers.
And for the record, I still wore hose, because that’s what I was told to do when going to a job interview. Saved me too, the skirt was too big on the new suit and it got twisted around and I found myself in a casual interview, sitting next to the guy who might be my new boss with my skirt hitched up way too high and the kick pleat slit that should have been in the back now in the front. Believe me, I was glad to have the hose on that day.
Friday, June 15, 2007
Cube.
Nanette is wondering what your cubicle looks like. I am looking for something to post. It’s kismet…or something.
I don’t really have a “cubicle”. I have a half wall. And a large glass window behind me. And another desk in front of me. But I do have a desk. And a heck of a lot of stuff on it.
Here’s the view directly in front of me. If you recognize that website you’ll realize I am looking for plane tickets for my September vacation. Which I am really looking forward to…really, really looking forward to. A lot. And that would be a tiny little hedgehog on top of my monitor. A souvenir from the home of Anne Hathaway, the wife of William Shakespeare. It had a beautiful garden but I didn’t have the time to go inside. The hand shaped thing on the left is my cell phone holder. It used to light up when my phone would ring but I think the battery may be dead. The line of type on the bottom of the monitor is from “Howl” and the stickers around the monitor are…let’s see…well there’s a Batman, Hello Kitty, my nephew, a “Support our Troops, Remember our Veterans” and a fortune cookie fortune that says “Sell your ideas—they are totally acceptable.” It’s not exactly encouraging but it’s better than nothing. Oh and the tiny round sticker at the top just says “No.” I didn’t put there, but I don’t know who did.
Ah, the view to the left…lollipops, Batman, photos of my nephews, a brush for cleaning my keyboard, postcards I have yet to mail, glasses…what else is over there? My page a day calendar, currently on March 2. A small stack of comics, including Hellboy and Buffy, my most recent purchase from etsy.com, (a nicely lettered little thing from here) and my shopping list (blueberries, tomatoes, soy milk, soy creamer, pita bread), and my glasses.
To the right we have Hellboy, of course, and John Hodgman watching over me, the terribly exciting hard drive and telephone and…more Hellboy…some art, an ornament made by my oldest nephew and office info.
And to the right and behind me, the wall…calendar (a Christmas from the BFF), more Hellboy, some cupcakes, Alan Rickman, Eddie Izzard, Mr. Toast, Shakespeare, Sky Ape, a tiny picture of Doctor Who. Nothing but entertainment here.
That’s it. Well, that’s not true, I have a big credenza behind me but it’s kind of a mess at the moment, covered with books, magazines, a paper cutter, action figures a 12” Spike doll, a hamster that dances to “I’m too Sexy” and a lamp with a leopard print shade.
Oh and my plants! You can see my plants in those pictures of my desk. I have three. They are named Monstro, Killer and Teeny. I am trying to grow them into some sort of screen so no one can see me. It seems to be working pretty well.
I don’t really have a “cubicle”. I have a half wall. And a large glass window behind me. And another desk in front of me. But I do have a desk. And a heck of a lot of stuff on it.
Here’s the view directly in front of me. If you recognize that website you’ll realize I am looking for plane tickets for my September vacation. Which I am really looking forward to…really, really looking forward to. A lot. And that would be a tiny little hedgehog on top of my monitor. A souvenir from the home of Anne Hathaway, the wife of William Shakespeare. It had a beautiful garden but I didn’t have the time to go inside. The hand shaped thing on the left is my cell phone holder. It used to light up when my phone would ring but I think the battery may be dead. The line of type on the bottom of the monitor is from “Howl” and the stickers around the monitor are…let’s see…well there’s a Batman, Hello Kitty, my nephew, a “Support our Troops, Remember our Veterans” and a fortune cookie fortune that says “Sell your ideas—they are totally acceptable.” It’s not exactly encouraging but it’s better than nothing. Oh and the tiny round sticker at the top just says “No.” I didn’t put there, but I don’t know who did.
Ah, the view to the left…lollipops, Batman, photos of my nephews, a brush for cleaning my keyboard, postcards I have yet to mail, glasses…what else is over there? My page a day calendar, currently on March 2. A small stack of comics, including Hellboy and Buffy, my most recent purchase from etsy.com, (a nicely lettered little thing from here) and my shopping list (blueberries, tomatoes, soy milk, soy creamer, pita bread), and my glasses.
To the right we have Hellboy, of course, and John Hodgman watching over me, the terribly exciting hard drive and telephone and…more Hellboy…some art, an ornament made by my oldest nephew and office info.
And to the right and behind me, the wall…calendar (a Christmas from the BFF), more Hellboy, some cupcakes, Alan Rickman, Eddie Izzard, Mr. Toast, Shakespeare, Sky Ape, a tiny picture of Doctor Who. Nothing but entertainment here. That’s it. Well, that’s not true, I have a big credenza behind me but it’s kind of a mess at the moment, covered with books, magazines, a paper cutter, action figures a 12” Spike doll, a hamster that dances to “I’m too Sexy” and a lamp with a leopard print shade.
Oh and my plants! You can see my plants in those pictures of my desk. I have three. They are named Monstro, Killer and Teeny. I am trying to grow them into some sort of screen so no one can see me. It seems to be working pretty well.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Passion.
I’m all twitchy today and working isn’t working for me. I like my job ok but today…can’t seem to concentrate on it. Which makes me wonder, is there any job that isn’t like that. I mean, you hear people talk about having a job that they are passionate about but, as Brenda has shown us, the passion part still gets interspersed with the book keeping part. Or, if you are passionate about the book keeping part, I am pretty sure that gets interspersed with something else too.
People ask that age old question, “If you could have any job in the world, what would it be?” and…I don’t know. I don’t think I have anything that I am so passionate about that I would not get twitchy doing it at some point. For many years I thought I would be a pastry chef. But somewhere along the way I realized that I never wanted to own my own restaurant or bakery but I sure as heck didn’t want someone else bossing me around in the kitchen (you so do not want to see how I cook, it’s one step removed from total chaos. I just fling things into the bowl until they smell right…seriously. Looking right is good but smelling right is better). Plus you have to stand up all day and for some reason I have this idea that you always have wet feet when you work in a kitchen, I don’t know why I think that but I do. Whatever, I hate wet feet. When I lived in North Carolina I would go through like 5 pairs of socks a day because it rained all the time and…oh, sorry, I am getting sidetracked….um…passion…work…
I once told someone that I would like to own a store that stocked only things that I liked, which is good in theory. I can’t be the only person looking for a pink argyle sweater with tiny skulls in the diamond pattern, right? (Don’t bother showing me one, I have since found it and rejected it because…I don’t really like argyle). I am certainly not the only person who loves stupid gadgets or vintage books or lace gloves…but I really never wanted to run a store. Don’t really want to be a freelance artist, I like structure too much…oh and um…limited talent is a problem there too…heh.
I don’t really know what I would do if I could do anything. Maybe I would read books but then you have to sit through all the bad ones and there are a lot of bad ones out there. Maybe I would be a vet, I don’t really mind the whole arm up a cow’s bum thing but I was never good enough in chemistry to feel confident that I wouldn’t poison some poor creature.
I guess the real question is…is it enough to LIKE what you do? Do you have to feel passion about your job or can you just enjoy it well enough most days? Are you an empty and unfulfilled (and unfulfilling) person if you get twitchy every once in a while and wonder how you might better spend your time? Heck, I really liked selling shoes, it was probably one of my favorite jobs ever, but the pay was crap and the days were long and…well…face it…your feet stink. All of you. Seriously, you should do something about that.
People ask that age old question, “If you could have any job in the world, what would it be?” and…I don’t know. I don’t think I have anything that I am so passionate about that I would not get twitchy doing it at some point. For many years I thought I would be a pastry chef. But somewhere along the way I realized that I never wanted to own my own restaurant or bakery but I sure as heck didn’t want someone else bossing me around in the kitchen (you so do not want to see how I cook, it’s one step removed from total chaos. I just fling things into the bowl until they smell right…seriously. Looking right is good but smelling right is better). Plus you have to stand up all day and for some reason I have this idea that you always have wet feet when you work in a kitchen, I don’t know why I think that but I do. Whatever, I hate wet feet. When I lived in North Carolina I would go through like 5 pairs of socks a day because it rained all the time and…oh, sorry, I am getting sidetracked….um…passion…work…
I once told someone that I would like to own a store that stocked only things that I liked, which is good in theory. I can’t be the only person looking for a pink argyle sweater with tiny skulls in the diamond pattern, right? (Don’t bother showing me one, I have since found it and rejected it because…I don’t really like argyle). I am certainly not the only person who loves stupid gadgets or vintage books or lace gloves…but I really never wanted to run a store. Don’t really want to be a freelance artist, I like structure too much…oh and um…limited talent is a problem there too…heh.
I don’t really know what I would do if I could do anything. Maybe I would read books but then you have to sit through all the bad ones and there are a lot of bad ones out there. Maybe I would be a vet, I don’t really mind the whole arm up a cow’s bum thing but I was never good enough in chemistry to feel confident that I wouldn’t poison some poor creature.
I guess the real question is…is it enough to LIKE what you do? Do you have to feel passion about your job or can you just enjoy it well enough most days? Are you an empty and unfulfilled (and unfulfilling) person if you get twitchy every once in a while and wonder how you might better spend your time? Heck, I really liked selling shoes, it was probably one of my favorite jobs ever, but the pay was crap and the days were long and…well…face it…your feet stink. All of you. Seriously, you should do something about that.
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