Not In Kansas Anymore...

Click your heels, and see if home is where you hang your hat, or somewhere else inside yourself as this simple, postmodern girl takes on L.A.

Saturday, August 29, 2009

I'm signed up on a few job notification websites, just in case something might come along. I opened my email today and found this:

This is a Job Alert!

Ready. Set. Go faster than you thought possible.

It is really quite easy to see why so many people join our team. At every step of the way, we help you experience, learn, and advance. In short, we help you find the potential within yourself. You feel good about what you do and, more importantly, what you can accomplish.

McDonald’s is not just a job it is a career. There is already a career path set for a crew member to make it all the way management.

But if you're not looking for a career, rest easy. McDonald's has the flexibility to work with you, too. Fact is, for countless employees McDonald’s is the perfect way to earn additional income. We are used to accommodating a variety of schedules and hours, whether you’re a working mom, a student, or just somebody looking for a part-time job to provide that something extra,. Not to mention that we provide a workplace that’s close to where you need to be … whether it’s home, school, or your community. In the meanwhile, it’s nice to know there are plenty of ways to learn and grow.

Do not miss out, apply today! Click “Apply now” and check out our wealth of opportunities today!

It's these kinds of things that make me want to lay facedown in a giant margarita and cry. Good gravy.
So far this summer in Los Angeles, we've been unnaturally blessed with relatively cool weather. Far be it for me to understand the complex meterological reasons why, but let's just say I'm really fucking glad. As I have explained countless times prior to this post, I loathe hot weather and really, really, truly DO have documented medical disorder that explains my rapid change in mood and need to withdraw into cool dark places during the heat of the summer. I'm not really just a whiner or a nut. ( Well, I may indeed be a whiner and a nut; you're dealing with a person who doesn't like her food to touch on the plate, who pre-treats all her socks before laundering for maxium white potential, and has purchased many, many eyeshadows in basically the same color for no apparent reason. However, THIS topic is does not fall into that realm, I swear.) So, I've been really pleased that admist this Summer of Doom and Gloom, I can at least count on the weather to be reasonable and assist me in my quest to feel a little lighter.

Untill lately. I guess we all knew it was coming- it's not like you can't have a few real scorchers in this season, after all. Who has ever heard of a summer being COMPLETELY mild? And in Southern CA? I rest my case. So, now, as summer comes to a close it manages to rile itself up for one last kick, just to show it can.

And it's been doing a bang-up job at just that. Last weekend I went to a wedding reception in the beachy area of LA, way south and way out of the Lost Pocket of Hell that is the Valley in the summer. Unfortunately, though, it was barely 10 degrees cooler closer to the water, which is pretty farking sad. Tonight, it was 90 at 9pmish , with a slow drop to 77 around 11:30, and is presently holding steady at 71 with "smokey" air conditions ( something is on fire nearby , of course; what would a summer in LA BE without something being on fire?). It's not a stretch to say it's getting pretty miserable around these parts.....

In light of all these recent developments, I composed this letter to my friend Sophia (a little backstory: Soph is currently working 12-16hr days at her job and not available to socialize til she resurfaces from the deluge), begging for her possible assistance:

To: Sophia Martin at {email address}

RE: The etiquette of a selfish request

Dear Ms. Martin:

It has come to my attention that your work load and schedule leave you unable for casual socializing. While I find this regretful and look forward to a later time when we might meet, I must confess a certain desperate desire that only YOU can fufill. Yes, only you....

In short, I lust after your pool.

I know its incredibly rude to ask a friend if you can use their recreational facilities without their attendance; it implies a sort of disregard for their company and an opportunism in the friendship based on shallow material values. Thusly, I want to impress upon you my preference for you company over you material acquistions or access to luxurious facilities. Recall I have been your friend when you did not have a pool and will continue to be your friend should you become, shall we say, pool-less.

In the meantime however, I want to strike a deal.

You're busy, and certainly on the run with your eating schedule, and likely vitamin deficient from all the stress. I am NOT working at this time and would be more than happy to make a few vegetarian meals and freeze them for you convience as a hot nourishing meal after a hard day. In fact, I have two or three in my freezer RIGHT NOW that would probably suit you well. I am willing to trade these offerings for use of your pool.

I realize this offer may sound strange. But understand I am of fair, Irish stock, and the recent increase in heat has me languishing.( I have been officially diganosed with summer SAD in recent years, so there is a medical component! ). I NEED the water. I prevail upon your good nature, therefore to consider my offer and allow a mutually beneficial exchange to occur.

Thank you for your time in considering this matter; I look forward to your response.


Jessca A. White

Yes, I know. I KNOW, I KNOW I KNOW. Techinically, this makes me a rude, rude friend, even though I couched my request in the most formal of manner, ( intending to make her laugh) and am offering a trade-off in the bargain. But GAWD, what I wouldn't give for a pool right now! I'd suck it up and drive to the beach, but everyone and their dog will be there, plus, I always manage to get sick ( like nauseated, dizzy and itchy) after swimming in that water ( and that's not me being whiny and weird, either. Depending on where you go, it's pretty much an icky fact of life around here that you just can't trust the water....). No one else I know has a pool. Ron and Roy have a jacuzzi and I am certain that I would be welcome to head their way, but a.) jacuzzi = hot water = not refreshing in 90 degree weather, PLUS, b.) Ron has
whooping cough ( no, REALLY. Don't ask me. I have no idea how or why.) which is contagious and lasts for 4-6 weeks.

Of course, I've considered hoofing it up to Kmart, buying one of those inflatable 2' deep kiddie pools and filling it up. But do I really WANT a kiddie pool in my yard for the rest of the year, collecting dirt and all manner of debris just for a 2 week reprieve from the heat? I don't know....

Rest assured, though, I'm going to man up and do what I have to do: I'm going to be going out to the store tomorrow ( after dark, of course), buying some slushy icy drink mixes, some watermelon, and a whole slew of magazines. I'll be hiding in my dark, air-conditioned bedroom watching reruns of "Project Runway" and "True Blood", waiting for this thing to blow over. Don't even bother calling me during the daylight hours unless it dips lower than 65. Ms. White is officially on leave until further notice.....unless you have a pool, of course. ;)

Friday, August 28, 2009

On my solely brother's recommendation and general buzzing about, I went to go see
"District 9" , and I'm telling you now: GO. If you have to dump out your couch cushions for change or are deciding between lunch one day and the $10, skip lunch ( trust me, you will want to have saved yourself the nausea anyway; it's graphic). Just don't kick yourself later for seeing what has to be the most original movie I've seen in YEARS, with a plot that completely has you guessing untill the very last moment how it's going end, morally conflicted and complex characters and underlying themes that will have you thinking and talking long after you leave the theater. What more could you want?

There's something here for everyone! ( Except kids. Definitely not kids. Please heed the rating and adhere to its guidelines like law in this case.) You want a little action? This movie's got it in spades. A little sentiment? Oh, my friend, the end is a killer. Not a non-misty eye in the house, I'll bet. There's even a bit of a love story there. You want some thrills? Definitely the unexpected at every turn. Howsabout a little sci-fi? A little Smoking Gun/government conspiracy/(with a little Superhero stuff thrown in for good measure)? Well, I don't think I'm giving away the farm here by telling you it's an alien movie ( which, trust me-- I *know* how you're already rolling your eyes. I did when Brother started giving me the hard sell about it. I rolled my eyes and said, "You know,I don't KNOW. Aliens? I'm not into that, really....vamps? Yes. Aliens?!? Get serious.").

But do NOT be fooled by that small detail. What is really here is a movie about ghetto-ization( sp?) of cultures and peoples we find different and scary, with themes reaching deep into our ethics surrounding human/animal/Other ( yes, with a capital "O" ; thank you, Michel Foucault and Edward Said ) rights, medical experimentation, rascism, urban fear and tension, corruption in government "social service" agencies, the subtext of genocide in the marginalizing of any group, and finally, the moral questions surrounding the uses of technology and the ruthless global market capitalism it feeds.

Sound like enough to get your head rolling on a random Thursday night? Good then. GO SEE IT!

~~~~~~~~~Now, for some spoilers.~~~~~~~~~
> (scrolling for courtesy's sake)
So one important thing I'd forgotten about taking movie recommendations from my Beloved Brother: his stomach for all things grisly and gore-splattering is much stronger than mine. I've not always been such a pansy for screen violence, although I believe some other movie reviews I've posted ( see "The Dark Knight" post and my near-barf report on"The Golden Compass" ) will reveal my high sensitivity to either psychological/torture driven violence and/or surprising, sudden outbursts of it. Generally, I can take just plain old blood n' guts, but if the emotional/psychological component is there, I'm sitting there trying to find my steely reserve to make it through.
In short, I've had a tendency to become sickened ( and sometimes actually vomit!) at intense films that keep my adrenaline/emotions going non-stop, especially if there's some point where a graphically bloody visual is involved (for example, I had to leave the brilliant and haunting "Requiem for A Dream" for a solid 20 minutes, and I would rate the gore/grossness factor there at about a 2 on a scale of 10!). But it seems to me ( and my brother indeed confirmed this suspiscion) that in the last 5 years or so, films of all genres have kind of gotten REALLY graphic.

Such is the case here. While it was certainly all justifiable- this is a place where brutality rules and barbarism is the order of the day- I reached a point about an hour in where I had to fucking. Leave. The. Room. My poor brain couldn't take the onslaught anymore, and you know what? Sensitive or not, I think there's a reason for that. We're not built, as human beings, feeling empathetic entities, to really VIEW those kinds of things over an extended period of time. That's why people who do end up with PTSD or an utterly bizarre detachment from and/or fascination with gruesome acts. After seeing this movie, I would lobby that we scale back a wee bit on the exploding heads and severed limbs in our shared cultural pool of visuals. I'm not asking for censorship-- you'll NEVER see me advocating for that-- I'm just asking that not EVERY shot that hits its target show a slo-mo MCU of someone's skull fragments flying away and their lifeless eyes as they hit the ground. If we can agree on that, I think we're good.

Anyway, onto the rest of it:

When I wasn't thinking I was going to retch up my popcorn ( my poor friend Jack was like, "are you gonna be okay?" Sweet Jack. Gotta love him. You might recall he's a former BF from last spring. Still friends, still as cool as ever. See? I don't have an epic fallout from EVERYONE I've ever dated!!), I was just on the verge of tears most of the time. I clearly saw both sides in this film, but of course, I felt for the "Prawns", who did nothing and are now completely at the government's mercy. Of course, they aren't entirely sympathetic; they are depicted at first as being savage and scavenging burdens to the city, creating chaos and destruction wherever they go ( hence the need for a "relocation" to a "controlled" area , aka District 9). But as with any ghetto, things quickly decompensate to even more violence and ruthless behavior ( funny how deprivation and discrimination will bring that along, eh?) among its inhabitants. Not to mention the opportunisitic folks slither in under the fence to take advantage of the blighted ( Jack commented after we left, "Well, the Nigerians won't be happy with how they're depicted!!") However, I did like the scope of the writer's mind: he clearly understood the kinds of social systems and strata and desperate spiritual beliefs that spring up in these populations ( I'd just started a book on Santeria this week, so I thought it was particularly insightful to see some primal beliefs being incorporated into the storyline.). He really got it, and filled it all in with such detail visually, you could have switched out the aliens for Congo refugees and it would have been the same. Very smart stuff.

But the truly amazing thing from a Hollywood perspective is that this little film cost $30 million to make ( that's pennies, I assure you) and looked like a $250 million blockbuster. Whomever planned out the budget should get an Oscar just for THAT. Here you've got aliens to costume, a spaceship to build, CG, several complex sets including a medical facility ( never an easy one to pull off) and ariel shots galore, all looking really sharp and genuinely well-crafted. How did they do it?

I'll tell you one way: no big name actors sucking up the budget! I totally can't stand-- yes, even as an actor!-- that big names ask for such outrageous paychecks. Yes, I know, you're So-And-So, and you get people in the seats, and your name alone will get a project greenlighted, and since you're in such high demand, you need a pay or play because god knows you could be doing something else. You know what? Blah blah blah. It's bullshit. The only thing that an actor should have a good payout on is if the box office blows wide open. He/She deserves a piece of the "back end" ( a portion of the gross revenue a film makes), for the work and the use of their image. Period. Everything else is just blowhard egotistical nonsense. (I don't mind y'all getting millions, especially on big money shoots like a Michael Bay epic or something. But after a $10 million paycheck, how can you justify being paid so much? Seriously. No, I mean SERIOUSLY.)

All the actors in this film were completely no-name random folks, and you know what? They ROCKED it. I LOVED that they were styled realistically, like regular people and not all glammed up like movie stars, I loved that they got slimed in goo and dirt and didn't have a manicure at the same time. I loved their wrinkles and their weird teeth and accents and odd little personal idiosyncacies. Most of all, I loved that they were GOOD. Not just good, but REALLY GOOD. Wholly believable and committed and in the moment. Which just goes to show you: we all love our movie stars for escapism and glamour and a glimpse of unattainable beauty. No doubt. But a character actor will rise to the job 110% , without it, and doesn't that say something? I think so.

Finally, I loved that there was love, attachment ( Christopher to his son, Minkus to his wife) and honest raw emotion, with hardly a maudlin moment to find. Here you are, really rooting for the control pod to make it to the mothership, and watching the son ask, "We go home now?" but it's not at all sappy or contrived. I thought to myself, "I'll be Steven Speilberg is kicking himself in the pants right now", since a movie like this ( after "ET" and "War of the Worlds") would be something he'd like to get his hands on, I'll bet. But I'm glad he didn't. It would have been ruined with sap and orchestrated sentiment. So hooray for showing REAL feeling without telling the audience HOW to feel about it. It's good to let them figure out for themselves, don't you think? ( When I was in art school, I was in critique once for one of my pieces and I was worrying aloud that the audience might not "get it" if I didn't include more detail. A peer who was normally very reserved replied thoughtfully, "You can't do all the work for them. Otherwise, what's the point? Leave them some room to make their own conclusions. It's more interesting and beneficial that way." Truer words never spoken.).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~END SPOILERS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~






So yeah. Don't miss out on the movie my brilliant sibling called "The most influential film of this genre since "The Matrix". No matter who you are, I PROMISE you won't regret it.

Friday, August 21, 2009

Good Times, Bad Times

Not MY favorite Led Zepplin song, but alas, I'd mistaken this title to the one I was thinking of ( "Rock and Roll". You know: "been a long time since I'd rock n' roll/been a long long long long lonely tiiiiiiime". " ) Oh well, that's what I get for trying to be hip and clever at my age....

Anyway, I digress. Here's the Good News:

My medication is working again. HOOOOO-RAY. Master P, after some consideration and debate from yours truly, decided to jack up my current antidepressant a fairly large amount all at once- kind of a leap for a flyweight like me. He was not optimistic ( I believe the quote was "After a certain point you have to consider the Law of Diminishing Returns. You can do this, but I don't expect roses and ponies to come out of it.") . Fortunately, I can go in there and surprise him with unexpected roses and ponies next appointment.

So I finally feel more like myself than I have in 3 months, have successful avoided hospitalization, and am breathing a sigh of relief. All I can say is: I hope it sticks. Usually I don't worry about that, but, well.....his comments left me a little wary of jumping around the room with TOO much enthusiasm as of yet. He has a point: I'm right smack in the middle of the "theraputic zone"( read: the range of milligrams the manufacturer decided was the ideal dose for efficacy.

Obviously, lots of people use the medication WAY below that range, and see efficacy, and improvement, but technically, they shouldnt be seeing any change at all. The theraputic dose , in addition to being the range with the most efficacy, is also --allegedly-- the minimum amount of the drug to be administered to see ANY change in the patient at all. Prior to this dose, nothing's supposed to happen. I have always thought that was a totally wack idea, but that's another topic.). It has taken me, I should mention 8 years to get here ( I've been on this drug and functioning fine for 8 years and have crept up to this range slowly, as is to be expected as tolerance levels increase as a natural course of treatment). So technically, that's REALLY good. ( I should also explain that people with chronic major mood disorders go through these setbacks and increases as a natural course of treatment, and sometimes, have to add all kinds of....what should I call them? Addendum medications? That boost the efficacy of the primary med, or assist in tangential symptoms, etc....and sometimes, they have to change EVERYTHING altogether every couple of years, depending on the severity of their disease. So when I say "that's really good", I mean " that's REALLY amazingly lucky, too". Just FYI.)

However....( and you knew that was coming)....the class of medication that my antidepressant IS, ( an SNRI , not too dissimilar to an SSRI , an important point of comparison in what I'm about to say) has a problematic possibility of doing what's so eloquantly referred to in the medical world as a "poop out". Frequently SSRI medications ( like Prozac, which is where this phenomena was first noted-- "Prozac Poop Out") tend to be really great for about 3 months and then they drop off sharp like a bad coke high and leave you hanging. This speeds up the tolerance/dosing game by a great length and is constant uphill battle should you need to keep taking SSRIs for a long period of time. Now, as I noted, I dont take JUST an SSRI, I have the "N" on my side, which is supposedly doing double duty to keep things in check (Master P calls my antidepressant "the lion of the pharmaceutical world with regards to depression. It's the one to beat. " Apparently after it came out, other companies started rallying to create similar products for their own offerings, to varying success.....). STILL I guess I'm just worried that for whatever mysterious reason these things happen, now that I'm in "the zone", my "S" will drop, which is the one that I can't really spare. ( Seratonin, btw, is what's usually indicated in OCD , which I also have, and without fail, shows up when I get depressed, and makes things problematic to a wretched degree.). I'm probably worried about nothing, especially since Master P GAVE me an SSRI to ADD to my cocktail if I needed it. But I think I've already noted that I don't want to do that, unless times get desperate.

Which leads me to the Bad News:

My doc....I think I've explained this before, but.....he's kind of this SuperBrainGenius Guy, who is every other doctor's Last Resort. If they have a patient they can't get to respond to treatment or who won't comply or who is just plain puzzling, they send them to HIM. Needless to say his office is a wildly overscheduled zoo. And he's the one who's always on outcalls talking people out of hairy situations, because after 30 years, he's seen it all and is cool as a cucumber.

I got lucky, by one simple twist of fate, to end up with him ( I was in the hospital, didn't like the doctor I was assigned-- she was a total moron-- and people I trusted suggested him, so I switched. Talk about landing in a pot of jam by sheer stupid luck). Because of that, I always thought I was one of his "easier" patients; I hadn't been sent there because I was scientifucally confounding. On a more practical level, I figured I was one of his easier patients because I a.) don't do stupid shit like try to smoke my medication in my crack pipe ( yes, true story), b.) call and need to go into the hospital every time my disabilty check runs out because I'm out of money for coke ( yes, also true), c.) I'm not bipolar, so he never has had to come get me out of lockup half out of my head thinking I'm Jesus or something ( that's pretty common in general with bipolar), d.) I don't complain very much about stuff I know he can't fix ( like stupid job stress or whatever) and insist that he fix it and e.) I do everything he says, and if I don't like what he's saying, can argue the points from a medical perspective, so we always come to a compromise.

Except the other day, he informed me, in a bit of frustration ( not AT me, just sort of trying to solve the problem) that indeed, I AM one of his "difficult" patients. I said, "WHAT?" He said, "Not PERSONALLY, Jessica, you're fine. ( Oh good; I see those points for not being a pain in the ass and avoiding smoking my meds in my crack pipe DO count for something....). But your brain chemistry- it's difficult. You have idiosyncratic reactions to things that I've seen clinically, so I know you're not making it up. That's hard because of course, we as doctors want to prescribe something and see a textbook response. Of course, none of my patients are textbook, so don't feel alone. I'm just saying, usually I give my depressives an antidepressant, and then I see them stabilize. And then you hope that their life gets a bit better for them; you know, they get a good job or they find a partner and their life buoys them up, because you just can't count on the drugs. Its been hard for you, so it's harder ON you, and you know, that's just a tough thing to wrestle with."

Okay, that made me feel like the world's ULTIMATE LOSER: I felt like he was saying, "Well kid, here's the deal. You got a bum rap with this disease. Not only that, but your disease doesn't respond to standard treatment, so we gotta get creative. Furthermore, your life is really crappy-- though I don't blame you for it-- which makes getting you out of episodes harder. " Oh, gosh, THANKS. I left the office feeling a little doomed. Because what am I supposed to do? Become a nun? Live at home with my parents? Never date again? I know people WAY sicker than me who are married, have kids, are doing well. WHERE DID IT ALL GO WRONG!?!? Is there some guidebook I failed to read, or some wrong turn I took somewhere? I mean, seriously. Because I'll go undo it right NOW.

*UGH*. That was a bad day. A really bad bad day.

In other not-so-great news, I got this in my mailbox two days ago:

Dear Jessica :

We enjoyed meeting with you during your Jump Start interview.
While we were impressed with your application, essay, background and experience, we have concluded that other candidates’ qualifications more closely match our criteria for entrance into this session’s Jump Start program. We sincerely regret that we cannot offer you a position in this session’s Jump Start program.
You have our best wishes for success in your future endeavors. We will retain your information and send you an email prior to the start of our spring Jump Start session and offer you the opportunity to apply again.
We appreciate your interest and the time you have invested in interviewing with us.

The Jump Start training team

Um, WHAT? I thought I totally had that one in the bag. I really, really did. Everyone else did too, including my friend Lori who went through the program herself and introduced it to me! I ROCKED that interview. Understandably, I was really upset and disappointed. Sassy tried to cheer me up, though:

You just can't take it personally. I know, I know, it seems like the ultimate personal rejection. But CLEARLY you are more than QUALIFIED. Obviously that wasn't the factor that left you on the losing end. We'll never know what it was in reality, but it might help to dream up a few fantasy ones that soothe the wound... i.e:

* you weren't nearly crazy enough
* you've made getting better look far too easy
* they were looking for someone who speaks Mandarin
* they were looking for someone who speaks Mandarin, is a licensed bricklayer, and is also a notary
* they already have two redheads and the crazies can't tell them apart.
* they were fearful that you would too easily become the target of several of their clients prone to stalking

Truth is, we'll never know the truth. But *WE* know it's not because you are lacking in an REAL and MEASURABLE way. Just like acting, sometimes the choice is completely arbitrary and unfair.

I responded:

Okay, that was pretty funny. And I agree: it is a complete mystery as to why I might not have been chosen.

And while I hate to point it out, some of your "you didn't speak Mandarin" goofing might have been right. I'm sure that maybe they needed to fufill a quota of people who COULD speak Mandarin/Spanish/Filipino, for REAL, as unfortunately those populations go wildly and pathetically underserviced in the mental health community.

Plus, they are a national not-for-profit, who KNOWS what other criteria they needed to fufill to keep their funding? I'm not saying that to be cold, but I DO only have depression and anxiety/PTSD/recovering alcoholic/sexual trauma survivor. Maybe they needed me to have bipolar or schizophrenia or be a veteran or have left an abusive husband, or been homeless. I'm not being flip. I'm serious.

Still: *meh*. Finally a place where I can do some good, and flop.

And while I knew and still know I am more than qualified for the positions, maybe it isn't the right time for ME right now; who knows? I swear to God this life is all about turning the next corner to find out ......OOPS, thank goodness I didn't pick this week to stop sniffing glue ( from "Airplane", remember?).....I just hope the next thing around the corner actually pans out into something good. If it doesn't, I'm going to stay inside untill New Year's and hide.

Thanks, honey. XOXO

I really mean that last part. This whole year has got me feeling loser-ific right now. I mean,
I'm trying. Through no fault of my own ( really) everything that's happened this year has just made me feel like (a LOSER in all caps, just like that!). I've bet and counted on what I had analyzed, considered with heart and mind, and vetted as sure horses and they have failed! And at the last minute, as a shock, too ( I'm talking about my relationship with MC, too. I spent SO much time just checking him out and getting to KNOW him as a person before I even agreed to let him COURT me. I turned him down flat at first! Then it all goes south on a dime because of things I couldn't even BEGIN to anticipate. ) ! I'm just exhausted and it's only August.

I know for certain this time it wasn't some carelessness or pathology of mine that caused any of these failings: not my choices or my judgement or even my psyche. It has all just HAPPENED, and I don't deal with that very well. I like fair. I like order. I like things to make sense. Lately they don't, and I'm afraid of what's around the next corner.
It's one of those times where I just have to have faith, and I am so BAD at that. It's funny because when this was all starting to happen, I ran across this quote of Paul's ( the saint, not just some random Paul...;).... and I'm glad it was Paul that popped up, because he's one of my favorites): "his grace is enough." Then in the middle of the worst of this summer someone else quoted it to me, so I thought, okay. I'm listening. And let me tell you, laying back and saying, "I'm doing what I can, and I'm going to count on grace to carry me the rest of the way that I can't do" has been HARD.'s been helping. Sometimes I say it through gritted teeth, but I'm working it.


TO finish out my theme, I guess that last bit ( about grace) is a Good, for what it's worth. So, give me that big drum solo out, Mr. Bonham. I'm just going to keep putting one foot in front of the other and see where it leads me next, and pray for the best.

Sunday, August 09, 2009


Tonight, on the way to Target, I was at a stoplight listening to Prince's "Little Red Corvette" as a Triple A towtruck towed that very make of car through the intersection.

Needless to say, I was awestruck by the sheer likelihood that such a thing would happen. I wonder what it means?

Monday, August 03, 2009

So this is what frustrates me about looking for jobs: people have listings like this:

We are in search for Highly Trained & motivated agents to show our Featured Listings.
Must Have:

-Great internet skills
-organized & experienced in office administrator
-Bilingual in always a plus
-Must have experience or Knowledge in Property management or Real estate industry -Microsoft Word , Excel skills -Multitasking skills
-Common Sense
-Great salesmanship
-Team Players
-Great cordination skills
-Outside the box thinkers
-Creativity Welcome
-Great Marketing Skills
-Honesty , reliablity , dedication , motivation
-Serious people only

"Only serious People!! we do not like to waste our time "
"We are only Looking for the very best of the best"

Available Position :
-Weekend Receptionist 9am-5pm
-Marketing Specialist

Okay, while we're at it, why not ask me to juggle and provide singing entertainment for the office? Could that list be any longer? Then there's the whole "We want Serious People!!" thing. Well, who doesn't? What are they going to say? "Please, all you losers and meth addicts, apply here!" ?

Then there are the random spelling and/or grammar mistakes, WHILE asking the potential applicant to be rivaled only by Marlo Thomas from "That Girl!". This ad ( which is real, mind you) is a relatively tame one in terms of glaring errors, but what's up with random capitalization?

And then, the coup de grace, which always kills me: the pay rate for all of these skills and the "seriousness"? They either don't mention it, OR it's at best, $9 an hour. That's right! $1 over minimum wage.

If it isn't, or offer to pay more, it's usually an ad like this:

A 17 year old International Company that is producing a billion dollars in revenue and is endorsed by Donald Trump is expanding in the Los Angeles Area. We are looking for sharp and intelligent people to form the core foundation of the organization that will be leading the expansion throughout all of Southern California.

WOW! Where can I sign up? When I do, is there a bridge you'd like to sell me as well??