The hunt continues…

Looking for a job is the worst.  I don’t know that there is anything that makes me feel so badly about myself.  The entire process is set up to make you feel like crap.  No wonder most people hate their jobs.  By the time you find anything, you’re so desperate you’ll take it.

How do you translate life into a one or two page resume?  How do you get across in a one page cover letter enough information to show who you are and all the good things you will bring to the position?

I’m sure there are tons of articles out there from professionals answering these questions.  But everyone reads the same stuff, makes their resumes and cover letters meet those guidelines.  So it’s back to everyone’s materials looking the same.

How do I get across that my resume is a mess because I moved home to be with my dying mother?  How do I sell my best traits: being a real people person and that I’m crazy smart.  The application process is not set up to allow me to say this.

Who hasn’t sat in a job interview and just straight up lied?  I certainly have, and I hate it.  That is not me.  How good am I at Excel? To be honest, not great.  But it’s 2017, so I just Google it.  I had a job that involved a lot of work in Excel.  My boss would call me into his office and tell me what he wanted me to do.  I’d take extensive notes, assure him I knew what I was doing, go back to my desk, Google it and get it done.  He never had any complaints about my work.  The fact that I called out the hugely inappropriate behavior bordering on sexual harassment that happened frequently in the office that he had complaints about.

I’m trying hard to network.  Talk to people about what I’m looking for, talk to anyone about my job hunt.  I have high hopes that this is going to be a better way to find a job.  I’d love to end up somewhere I know a bit about first.  What is the work culture like?  Because just as much as the applicants lie in the interviews, so do the interviewers.   I want inside information.

I don’t know what the answer is for a better application process; I just know the way it is doesn’t work.  Who knows, maybe it just doesn’t work for me.  Maybe there are other people out there who hear back from every job they apply to, who are getting interview after interview.  People who aren’t sitting at home wondering if they’re gonna end up taking some awful job just to have a job.  That sounds extra awful.  I know I’m so lucky to be able to not work for a bit, but I just continue to be baffled by a system that is not set up to help employees or employers.

Uncomfortable

Having not written anything in much too long I’m feeling overwhelmed trying to find a place to start and one topic to focus on.  My mind was concocting a post that managed to include emotional eating, exercising, feminism and clothes all in one go.  And really that’s just too much.

So here is an attempt to rein it in a bit.  Notice I say attempt.

For a long time, but with varying degrees of passion, I’ve dreamed of being a writer.  As in a professional writer.  Someone who gets paid to put pen to paper.  I think I’m pretty good sometimes.   And as someone whose self esteem generally peaks at “I’m ok,” this is a pretty big deal.  Obviously, even if you have a talent for something, you only get great at it with practice, and I definitely do not practice writing enough.  It kills me whenever I read something about how to be a good writer or how to be a better writer and the tips are usually so simple.  Most often it will just say: Write.

I read something recently, though I don’t recall where, that talked about writing better and what you should write about.  It said to write about the hard stuff, the uncomfortable stuff.  I don’t do this.  I never have.  My old diaries and journals are full of entries that make no sense anymore because I didn’t actually talk about what happened, just how I felt in vague terms.  Not surprisingly, I’m not going to talk about anything uncomfortable right now either.  But, I’m hoping to.  I want to.

If you knew me in person, you’d know that I talk a lot.  All the time.  About everything.  And when I’m upset about something, I talk about it to everyone, constantly.  But, when I am really upset about something, I do not talk about it at all.  I will tell no one.  It’s a weird trait I discovered about myself in high school when I found out I didn’t get into my top choice college.  Now, I try to force myself to talk about things when they bother me that much.  The uncomfortable stuff.  In the last couple of years, I’ve had more uncomfortable stuff in my life than I would have liked.  And I’ve been ok about talking about it.  Actually, ok may be a bit strong.

The idea of writing about the uncomfortable stuff makes my skin crawl a bit.  It makes me recoil from the keyboard.  But what better way to improve my writing than writing about the stuff I don’t want to tell you about.  And this has to be good for me emotionally.  It’s certainly never good to keep it bottled up.

So that’s the plan for next time.  Something uncomfortable on the page.

Here’s hoping I can do it, and I can do it justice.

Well Joan Rangers…

(Note: I wrote this quite a while ago not long after Joan Rivers died)

I feel like the world has been sucked of all our funny.  Losing Robin Williams, to suicide no less, was awful.  It sucker punched us.  Who was going to be our true comedic genius? How could Mrs. Doubtfire be dead?

But, for me, as much as Robin William’s death was sad and upsetting, losing Joan was and is devastating.  I feel like I’ve lost a friend.  I’ve been known to tell people that Heath Ledger was my Elvis.  That celebrity whose death I’ll always remember and that really affected me.  But this, Joan, is just as bad in a different way.

I read an article online soon after Joan’s death that seemed to really dismiss Joan’s work on the red carpet and QVC.  But that’s how I first met Joan, asking “who are you wearing” and watching the most famous actors in the world pray she didn’t say anything too crazy to them.  It was in those moments that Joan first taught me not only about fashion but about how important it is to be able to laugh at yourself.  You can be the most beautiful person in Hollywood, on your way to winning your craft’s top honor, but tomorrow, all of us normal people will be talking about how you take yourself to seriously.

Joan was, from beginning to end, a pioneer for women.  I was going to say women in comedy, but I truly think it goes beyond that.  By always saying what she was thinking, what we were all thinking many times, she helped tear down that bullshit wall of “ladylike” behavior.  My gender shouldn’t and doesn’t limit me or my opinions or what I can say.  Without Joan, there wouldn’t be Lisa Lampanelli, Sarah Silverman, Kathy Griffin, or even Mindy Kaling and many other less “harsh” comedians.  Joan showed us all the way.

There was also another personal element to losing Joan.  For years, I watched Joan with my mother.  And when I lived away, we used to catch up about the latest red carpet or episode of Fashion Police on the phone.  I lost my mother two years ago.  But every Saturday, I would watch my DVR’d episode of Fashion Police, and mom would be there with me, laughing and being shocked over what Joan said this week.  I like to think that Joan is doing stand up, or having a book signing, or MCing the red carpet for some Saint’s 500th birthday, and my mom is there.  And she and Joan get to have a laugh and talk about their daughters.  And Joan would be impressed by that wicked sense of humor that my mother too often kept hidden.

I read that Sarah Silverman, on Kimmel the day after Joan’s death, said that despite being 81 years old, Joan wasn’t done yet and had gone too soon.  This really resonated with me.  I had an episode of Fashion POlice on my DVR that I hadn’t watched yet.  I finally watched it the other day, just missing Joan.  At the end, the DVR cut off before the end, Joan was mid-word as it stopped.  Outloud, I yelled “but she wasn’t done yet,” and tried not to cry.

A question of nerd-dom

Today I talked to my grad communications class about Gamergate.  Gamergate says a lot about a lot of different people and groups.  It also means different things to different people.  It’s a multifaceted thing that I’m not going to try to explain here.  If you aren’t familiar with it, I recommend you Google it.  One of the issues that most resonates with me is that I can consider myself a member of a group while that group might not consider me a member.

When I was little, I danced and I have this weird idea that once a ballerina, always a ballerina.  But I’m sure that the prima ballerina in the Bolshoi Ballet would not agree with me.  About six months ago, I started running.  I’ve done two 5ks and try to run a couple of times a week.  It’s a good day if I do 3 miles in under 40 minutes (for you non-runners, that’s slow).  But I consider myself a runner.  Would Usain Bolt agree with me?

Gamergate really hits me, though, because I consider myself a nerd.  I’m not a super-nerd.  I like Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings and Doctor Who and the Marvel movies and a couple of comic books.  And I love my fellow nerds.  Generally, nerds are smart, interesting, creative, well-rounded people.  Why wouldn’t I like and want to be a part of this group?

There are, however, a lot of nerds out there who are much more intense and committed to their nerd-dom.  Their love of nerdy things defines them.  And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that.  But experience (and the internet) has shown me that these uber-nerds sometimes feel superior to us casual nerds.  And there is something wrong with that.

To me being a nerd is the ultimate in acceptance.  I don’t only want to talk about our shared fandoms but I want to hear about the other stuff you’re in to.  Explain The Last Airbender to me; I hear it’s good.  Who’s your favorite Doctor? Mine’s Ten.  But I haven’t watched much classic Doctor Who.

Being a nerd is not a competition.  None of us is better or worse for knowing more or less about Marvel versus DC comics.  I’m not less of a nerd because I love Harry Potter and know nothing about anime.  For so long being a nerd was considered almost shameful.  The mainstream tried to put us down and we had to hide our interests from people.  So why now that nerd culture is popular culture are we attacking each other?  Why aren’t’ we welcoming each other into the light with open arms?

Clearly, this is (in most cases) a much more trivial idea than Gamergate.  Gamergate really brings some important, and occasionally completely awful issues to light.  This is just one of the things that speaks to me.

Gerhardt to the rescue

I don’t know what it says that movies and books seem to be what leads me to the deeper thoughts that I have.  I don’t know if it’s a bad thing or not, but at the moment anyways that’s how my brain has been working.

I was just watching this movie, 28 Days.  It stars Sandra Bullock and Viggo Mortensen and is about people going to rehab.  I’ve always enjoyed it, though I’m not really sure why.  I don’t really relate to the addiction part of it, but I think we can all relate to the theme of needing help and wanting to have people around us who we can count on.  There is a scene at the end of the film where Sandra Bullock’s character runs into a character played Alan Tudyk.  He is having a hard time and when he sees her he says through his tears “It is so good to see you.”  In that moment, you can just tell that running into this person he can count on and trust has saved him a little bit.

For me, that has happened a lot in the last few years.  While my life isn’t some huge disaster, it has certainly had its rough moments.  And time and time again I’m blessed to have someone show up at exactly the right moment or say exactly the right thing.  So many times the person isn’t even trying to do or say anything epic; they are just there for me.  It means so much in those moments that they just want to help.

The other night I had a bit of a meltdown but it was late.  As much as I wanted to talk I didn’t want to wake anyone up on a week night for something trivial, though I knew there were people who would have talked to me just because I needed to talk.  So I texted a friend who lives a few time zones earlier.  Best decision in ages.  He was there when I needed him.  And again, he said exactly the right thing.  It wasn’t anything huge or earth shattering, just proof that he was there and he was listening and he knew me well enough to know what to say.

Even in my darkest moments, I have felt so blessed by all these wonderful people who surround me.  I don’t know how I got so lucky to have such wonderful friends and family.  People who love me and support me and listen to me and understand me.  Family who is always there for me no matter what, no questions asked.  Friends who call me on my bullshit and just know when I’m leaving something out, or what I’m really thinking.

Hopefully, I’m as good to all of these people as they are to me.  I try to be.  I try to be there even when I maybe don’t want to, or it’s inconvenient, or stressful.  Life is a two way street and I don’t want to be the one not following the speed limit.

First post! Fun times!

Welcome to my little blog! I don’t really expect anyone to be reading this. It’s mostly for my entertainment and to just put things down. Writing about things tends to help me work my way through them. Even though I often actually write about something other than what is really bothering me.

For the most part, I’m going to change names, locations, etc for other people’s privacy, and a bit of my own. Ethel is a nickname of mine, and I will occasionally refer to myself that way. It’s one of those nicknames the origin of which makes almost no sense. But I tend to call my friends by names not at all related to their names, so Ethel is my favorite nickname for myself.

This really is just going to a place to collect my random thoughts. It will probably run the gamut from memories of high school and college, my daily life, movies and books, and what is probably the real impetus behind this, the recent death of my mother. I can’t make any promises about any of this actually being any good. I also sometimes write something and then don’t proof it until later to give myself some time away from it. So please forgive any grammar, spelling or typing mistakes. I’ll fix them eventually.

Happy reading!