Some of you may think that being unemployed means that I have little to do in a never ending amount of time, and the truth is, when I was newly unemployed I thought this too. After all, how bad could it be to not have to get up at 7 A.M., and watch your favorite shows when they actually air? The first week was nice, sleeping in, catching up on all the T.V. I was too busy to watch during the semester all while basking in the glow of my recent graduation, but the novelty wore off pretty quickly. What was once luxurious and enviable soon became boring and pathetic; thus began Job Hunt 2010. (Note: Even if my search extends into 2011, it will still only be called Job Hunt 2010 because anything indicating a longer time frame would be too depressing.)
Now my days are spent making lists. Making lists of people I know and people I want to know. Making lists of production companies and job websites. And so on and so on. Somewhere in my furry of list making and cover letter writing, it dawned on me that I could use an assistant. Now bear with me here, I know it sounds ridiculous for an unemployed person to employ an assistant, but despite my work situation (or lack there of) I actually have a lot to balance and manage. Making sure you send the right cover letter to the right company is harder than you may think after you’ve sent out a few dozen and can no longer remember exactly what you’ve applied for in the first place. Trust me.
Don’t even get me started on the fact that in the throws of my unemployment I can’t even find the time to get my haircut. I keep waiting for the perfect day where I know I’ll need a break and a chance to get out of the house, but preferably on a day when New York City doesn’t feel like its’ in walking distance from the surface of the sun and a torrential downpour won’t be looming over my newly quaffed head. If you could see my hair right now, you’d know I’ve had little luck with this plan.
The way I see it, there are two significant benefits to my hiring an assistant.
1. I would be more balanced and less crazed, and if I was channeling my inner diva I could even ask the poor guy or gal to hold an umbrella over my head so I can get that haircut I so desperately need.
2. If I employ an assistant, that means I would be rescuing someone from the boredom and monotony that I know so well. This really isn’t as beneficial to me as it would be to someone else, but I’m willing to overlook that.
The only real (and some may say significant) downfall to hiring an assistant is the fact that I have very limited funds with which to pay him or her. And these funds are only shrinking since they have no way of replenishing themselves aside from employment or a winning lotto ticket. At this point, I’d say it’s a tossup as to which one of these scenarios occurs first. Bets are welcome.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Thursday, June 17, 2010
If the "Real Housewives" Can do it...
Don’t get me wrong, I think the “Real Housewives” franchise is ridiculous, but I also kick myself if I miss an episode of the New York or New Jersey editions. As I watched the tail end of New York’s season, I must admit that I was a little dumbfounded. How any of these women (maybe with the exception of Bethenny) now have “careers” as television personalities is mind-boggling. Let’s take a look at the craziest bunch of housewives one by one, shall we?
Ramona is an emotional roller-coaster whose grasp of the English language deteriorates in proportion with the amount of wine she’s consumed. (Mountain out of a hole mill, anyone?)
Sonja is new so I don’t have much to say about her other then the fact that I loved when Kelly and Ramona were having it out on that yacht and all Sonja kept saying was that she wanted to see Hooters girls. She seems to know just how to lighten the mood, which has become increasingly necessary among these ridiculous women.
Jill is so concerned with how she’s perceived; that she seems to have lost sight of the fact that no one really cares about her, at least not anymore.
Alex clearly needs to spend more time parenting her children and less time trying to find herself (or her arm or any other limb) in the NYT Style section, because her son’s “systematic bullying” of that hamburger at the end of last season was just uncalled for, even if he can sing twinkle, twinkle little star in Latin.
Even though Bethenny’s biting insults could sometimes make Don Rickles cringe, she’s funny and she seems to be the only Housewife that can dish it and take it. It also helps that she has a career.
Luann needs to drop this Countess business and focus full-time on her budding singing career. The lyrics to Elegance is Learned are reminiscent only of the great Bob Dylan, and I’ll be dammed if she lets that talent go to waste.
And then there’s Kelly. I sincerely don’t know how that woman functions seeing as coherent thoughts are clearly beyond the realm of possibility for her. You know it’s pretty bad when your 10-year old daughter has to teach you how to make a pancake. Even my own culinary ability extends to that point.
The point of this post though wasn’t really to analyze the Housewives, although that has been fun. As much as I love watching their catty drama, I’ve realized that it’s a bit of a slap in the face to those who are really earning a living. And those of us who are trying to (wink, wink.)
That said, if they’re looking for a new Housewife, I’m all ears. Despite the fact that I don’t have a spouse or a house. Hmm. I should really just cross “cast member of Real Housewives of New York” off my list of prospective jobs…
Ramona is an emotional roller-coaster whose grasp of the English language deteriorates in proportion with the amount of wine she’s consumed. (Mountain out of a hole mill, anyone?)
Sonja is new so I don’t have much to say about her other then the fact that I loved when Kelly and Ramona were having it out on that yacht and all Sonja kept saying was that she wanted to see Hooters girls. She seems to know just how to lighten the mood, which has become increasingly necessary among these ridiculous women.
Jill is so concerned with how she’s perceived; that she seems to have lost sight of the fact that no one really cares about her, at least not anymore.
Alex clearly needs to spend more time parenting her children and less time trying to find herself (or her arm or any other limb) in the NYT Style section, because her son’s “systematic bullying” of that hamburger at the end of last season was just uncalled for, even if he can sing twinkle, twinkle little star in Latin.
Even though Bethenny’s biting insults could sometimes make Don Rickles cringe, she’s funny and she seems to be the only Housewife that can dish it and take it. It also helps that she has a career.
Luann needs to drop this Countess business and focus full-time on her budding singing career. The lyrics to Elegance is Learned are reminiscent only of the great Bob Dylan, and I’ll be dammed if she lets that talent go to waste.
And then there’s Kelly. I sincerely don’t know how that woman functions seeing as coherent thoughts are clearly beyond the realm of possibility for her. You know it’s pretty bad when your 10-year old daughter has to teach you how to make a pancake. Even my own culinary ability extends to that point.
The point of this post though wasn’t really to analyze the Housewives, although that has been fun. As much as I love watching their catty drama, I’ve realized that it’s a bit of a slap in the face to those who are really earning a living. And those of us who are trying to (wink, wink.)
That said, if they’re looking for a new Housewife, I’m all ears. Despite the fact that I don’t have a spouse or a house. Hmm. I should really just cross “cast member of Real Housewives of New York” off my list of prospective jobs…
Thursday, June 10, 2010
My first Job - Kind Of...
As I mentioned, last week I had the pleasure of being called to jury duty for the first time. After I finally found my way to the courthouse, I was directed to a large, drab room with chairs, which functioned only as a depressing holding pen. I’ll admit that at first I was less than thrilled to be sitting in a courthouse at 9 A.M. with a room full of people I didn’t know, but at least I wasn’t there because I had been charged with a crime. Once I resigned myself to the fact that not only did I have to be there, but I also didn’t really have anything better to do with my time, I allowed myself to take in the experience.
The first day, a guy named Larry headed our jury room. Initially, I really wasn’t sure what to think of Larry because he painstakingly went over the instructions for every jury related scenario possible, and unlike other jury room leaders, informed us that he would not be showing a movie. Yet, as soon as he informed us that he felt his life was exactly like the movie “Groundhog Day”, I knew we would be fine. Larry had the ability to simultaneously take his job seriously while also not seeming to care at all, and I find that to be an extremely admirable quality.
On principal, the experience is really interesting. New York City is one with millions of people, and jury duty takes a sliver of those millions and sticks them in a room together for two days. (I’m surprised no one has tried to make a reality show out of this yet.) The result is pretty much emblematic of New York itself; a room full of people from different backgrounds all trying to get out of there as quickly as possible so they can get on with their lives. (Oddly enough, I managed to run into someone who lives in my building, and someone I went to high school with.) Yet when I looked around the room, it was interesting while also strangely sad to know that I would probably never see any of these people again. We would have this one, shared experience, and then we would go on living our lives completely oblivious to one another.
I can’t say that I’m eager to be summoned to jury duty again, but the experience wasn’t as monotonous as I thought it would be. I also made $40/ day for my two days of service, which is $40 / day more than I have made any day since graduation…
The first day, a guy named Larry headed our jury room. Initially, I really wasn’t sure what to think of Larry because he painstakingly went over the instructions for every jury related scenario possible, and unlike other jury room leaders, informed us that he would not be showing a movie. Yet, as soon as he informed us that he felt his life was exactly like the movie “Groundhog Day”, I knew we would be fine. Larry had the ability to simultaneously take his job seriously while also not seeming to care at all, and I find that to be an extremely admirable quality.
On principal, the experience is really interesting. New York City is one with millions of people, and jury duty takes a sliver of those millions and sticks them in a room together for two days. (I’m surprised no one has tried to make a reality show out of this yet.) The result is pretty much emblematic of New York itself; a room full of people from different backgrounds all trying to get out of there as quickly as possible so they can get on with their lives. (Oddly enough, I managed to run into someone who lives in my building, and someone I went to high school with.) Yet when I looked around the room, it was interesting while also strangely sad to know that I would probably never see any of these people again. We would have this one, shared experience, and then we would go on living our lives completely oblivious to one another.
I can’t say that I’m eager to be summoned to jury duty again, but the experience wasn’t as monotonous as I thought it would be. I also made $40/ day for my two days of service, which is $40 / day more than I have made any day since graduation…
Friday, June 4, 2010
Parents Give the Best Advice, Don't They?
Earlier this week I had the utmost privilege of being called for jury duty at N.Y.C. criminal court. (This ordeal needs its’ own separate post which I’ll write some time in the next few days.) Seeing as I have never been arrested or charged with a crime, nor do I find it necessary to stalk the cast of Law and Order, this was really my first journey into that section of lower Manhattan.
On the morning of my first day of service (jury duty, I learned, lasts a minimum of 2 incredibly exciting days; like the weekend but without any fun) my Dad attempted to give me directions once I got off the subway. The following is, unfortunately, a direct quote…
“If the big, tall buildings are on your left, walk the other way.”
As I’m sure you can tell, these directions were extraordinarily helpful. Lois and Clark should be ashamed of themselves. Just to give some perspective to those who live on a farm or in the woods somewhere, New York City (or any city for that matter) is generally a place where one can find a myriad of “big, tall buildings”; it’s kind of our thing. Therefore, this statement was about as useful to me as giving BP a q-tip and telling them to fix their mess already.
Luckily for me, my Dad noticed my confused look and suggested I type the address of the courthouse into Google Images so I would recognize the building. This is ultimately what led me to the correct “big, tall building”, so I decided to forgive him for his feeble, earlier attempt at offering me assistance.
If you thought the parental involvement ended there, you’d be sorely mistaken. As I begrudgingly headed out the door, my Mom told me to have fun with the same level of enthusiasm you would have when telling someone that they just won the lottery.
On a (slightly) more serious note, my parents have been really supportive throughout my life, but especially during my job search. While it sometimes seems like they won’t be satisfied unless I hide behind a shrub and stalk Lorne Michaels in Rockefeller Plaza, or have Les Moonves holding on line 1, I know they just want me to be happy and get a job.
Hey, I went to jury duty didn’t I? That’s a start…
On the morning of my first day of service (jury duty, I learned, lasts a minimum of 2 incredibly exciting days; like the weekend but without any fun) my Dad attempted to give me directions once I got off the subway. The following is, unfortunately, a direct quote…
“If the big, tall buildings are on your left, walk the other way.”
As I’m sure you can tell, these directions were extraordinarily helpful. Lois and Clark should be ashamed of themselves. Just to give some perspective to those who live on a farm or in the woods somewhere, New York City (or any city for that matter) is generally a place where one can find a myriad of “big, tall buildings”; it’s kind of our thing. Therefore, this statement was about as useful to me as giving BP a q-tip and telling them to fix their mess already.
Luckily for me, my Dad noticed my confused look and suggested I type the address of the courthouse into Google Images so I would recognize the building. This is ultimately what led me to the correct “big, tall building”, so I decided to forgive him for his feeble, earlier attempt at offering me assistance.
If you thought the parental involvement ended there, you’d be sorely mistaken. As I begrudgingly headed out the door, my Mom told me to have fun with the same level of enthusiasm you would have when telling someone that they just won the lottery.
On a (slightly) more serious note, my parents have been really supportive throughout my life, but especially during my job search. While it sometimes seems like they won’t be satisfied unless I hide behind a shrub and stalk Lorne Michaels in Rockefeller Plaza, or have Les Moonves holding on line 1, I know they just want me to be happy and get a job.
Hey, I went to jury duty didn’t I? That’s a start…
CORRECTION!
I've made an erroneous, some may say unforgivable error.
In my previous post, I mentioned that my Dad takes a fanny pack with him when we travel. It has come to my attention, however, that my Dad has no use for a fanny pack. As my Mom eloquently stated, “I don’t let him out of the house with a fanny pack…anymore.” It should be noted though, that my Dad does travel with a belt that he can and does clip various things onto, because it is obviously vastly more efficient than a measly fanny pack. Clearly this is the lesser of two evils...
Now that we’ve cleared up that debacle, let’s continue onto the next post.
In my previous post, I mentioned that my Dad takes a fanny pack with him when we travel. It has come to my attention, however, that my Dad has no use for a fanny pack. As my Mom eloquently stated, “I don’t let him out of the house with a fanny pack…anymore.” It should be noted though, that my Dad does travel with a belt that he can and does clip various things onto, because it is obviously vastly more efficient than a measly fanny pack. Clearly this is the lesser of two evils...
Now that we’ve cleared up that debacle, let’s continue onto the next post.
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