The End. Or, at least today's version.

The dream job ended up being not so dreamy at the interview. Although it would be challenging and pay well my schedule would be such that I would basically never be able to take a vacation with TRP, and I didn't see it leading down paths that were exciting to me once this job had played itself out. Add that to the issues of not being 100% behind the beliefs of the school and such, and it just wasn't a good fit.

I have officially accepted the job which I was offered. Pay is adequate, although not exciting, although as a non-profit it does come with such things as fully paid benefits for myself, an automatic contribution to a 401(k) plan and a raise after 3 months.

The start date is November 17, so I will not apply for anything new, but I may be willing to interview for opportunities in the meantime, but will be very picky on such invitations.

Thank goodness I was lazy and didn't get around to withdrawing from the temp agencies over the weekend, as I had originally planned on doing. Barring any temp gigs I think it may be time to clean out the closets, scour the condo head to toe, perhaps make some curtains. Any suggestions on how to fill my time?

Fall Back

Happy return to standard time, everyone! Hopefully you enjoyed the extra hour of sleep this morning (I, most certainly, did)!

Today is the day that many people will replace the batteries in their smoke detectors. I plan on doing that tomorrow, as I didn't think of it until I was out and about today and I'm not quite sure what size batteries our detectors require.

I did, however, use the semi-annual nature of the clock-changing event to do something else today. I bought a new tube of mascara. You're supposed to replace mascara every 6 months, which I never think to do. Usually I just wait until the Clinique bonus includes mascara and swap it out then. Or wait until mine gets particularly clumpy and nasty and I can't handle it anymore. Not wearing mascara much that tends to happen.

However, I decided recently that I need to keep current with the mascara in the makeup cabinet. I'm not sure what prompted it. Perhaps the fact that I've been putting on makeup a lot more often recently with the job interviews and all.

I'm supposed to get the engagement and wedding rings cleaned and checked every 6 months as well. Valentine's day is just over 6 months after the anniversary, so I figure I'll use those events as the benchmarks.

The Developmental Swankette

-- that's what Sweetie referred to me as over dinner this evening. Sounds kind of like I'm an infant learning to walk and hit all those developmental milestones that lay ahead of me.

And, in a way, he's right. At the tender age of 33 I've hit the milestone of "starting on a career path that I can reasonably remain for the remainder of my professional life" and that career is in development (which is what the non-profit type call the sales and marketing department, so it's a bit easier to get donations out of people.)

I got offered a job today. Via voicemail, as I was temping all day, but I've already left messages for both my new boss and the head of HR, who both had left messages, indicating that I will call them back Monday afternoon.

Of course, I'm keeping Monday morning's interview. Because the position I've been offered is mots definitely entry-level in salary and duty, and Monday's interview is for a more mid-level position, with a 67% raise over what I've been offered with a better location (in the city versus a different 'burb, commute time would be about equal.)

And now that I'm typing this out, it's making me even more hopeful about this other job. I have a history of getting offered the "dream job" immediately after accepting the "it's not the dream job, but close enough." From the summer after high school, when I quit the telemarketing gig the same day I accepted it because Target finally called me back (yes, at the age of 17 Target was my dream job), to others that I can't remember at the moment, but I know they've happened, because they always make me think back to the job at Target. The one place I am FORBIDDEN from ever working again, because I didn't give two weeks notice. Funny that.

But stay tuned for many more developmental milestones to come.

They Like Me, They Really Like Me

Things are looking hopeful in the job front. Currently, here's what we've got going on:

• Job that's a bit below my skills and qualifications, but offers me entry into a dream career (development), which I've interviewed for twice and they are supposed to be making a decision this week. Haven't heard anything yet, but when they were going to call me within a week to either schedule a second interview or tell me no thanks it took them two weeks.
• Job as an insurance salesman, which isn't necessarily what I imagined for myself, but is a lucrative way to perhaps meet my employment goals - interview one on Monday afternoon. (It's a two interview process). This will be one that's as much my learning about them as them learning about me. I consulted with my insurance advisor (aka Dad) yesterday, and he gave the company the thumbs up and gave me some good questions to ask and things to look out for.
  
• Dream job in which my faith may be called into question - interview on Monday. Two and a half hour long interview on Monday, which leads me to believe they're very selective about who they're talking to. Hour one is regarding my "Christian Committment" with one person, and the rest is with the eventual supervisor of the position.
  

Of course, that makes it really difficult to get the motivation to continue to send out applications and resumes and do other job-seeking activities for the day. But I'll be praying extra hard when I'm at church on Sunday. And my parents are in town on Monday (they don't want to be home for Halloween, because they get lame trick-or-treaters at their house), and given the location of interview #1, interview #2 and where they are staying, I could quite possibly arrange to have lunch with them between the two. Could be a nice release of all the nervous energy I'll be sure to have at the time.

Times Do Change

Once upon a time I was the child of an insurance sales manager (Hi, Dad!). This means that from the time of my first babysitting job my father was pestering me to put money away into a 401 (k), and from the instant I started looking past part-time jobs to keep me out of trouble during school I was brainwashed on the benefits of a career in sales, preferably of the insurance variety. Did you know that insurance is a recession-proof industry?

Me being me, I shunned the brainwashing. I knew I could kick butt in sales (a lifetime being related to my dad will do that to a girl), but didn't want the pressure of a salary based solely on comission. What if I sucked at it? And it's such a 24/7 kind of thing.

In the first great post-college job search I decided I would be willing to work for an insurance company as long as it wasn't in sales. Claims, administration, something like that I could do. Sales, not so much my cup of tea. One insurance company placed a rather vague ad in the paper that I responded to. When they called me I said, in no uncertain terms, "I don't want to do insurance sales. I come from an insurance sales background, so I know from where I speak. If this is for a job in the non-sales realm I would love to come interview for it. This isn't for a sales position, is it?"

Guess what, it was for a sales position. What many insurance companies will do (by many I mean at least two that I have direct experience with) is they will invite you and a bunch of other people in together where the boss-man will give you a 45 minute spiel on how great the insurance industry is and how rewarding your life can be as an insurance agent. From there they interview you.

During that first experience they had the interview immediately after the spiel. Everyone waited in the conference room, and they would work through everyone until they were done. I didn't bother. One the spiel was over I stood up and left. They quizzed me on it, and I informed them that I was not interested in a career in sales, had informed them of that fact, and didn't want to waste anymore of their time. I was REALLY tempted to get up in the middle of the presentation, but felt that was a bit extreme and I could show a wee bit of courtesy.

This morning I went to another spiel. This time I'm actually contemplating it. This time they call you back later to do the interview, so no need to make a spectacle of myself. Of course, the next step in the process is actually to consult with Dad. When you've got a dad who spent 30 years in the insurance industry it is necessary that he approve of the company and position before you proceed with the rest of it all.

And while we're speaking of valuable life lessons taught to me by my father: When it rains for the first time in a long time, it brings the oil to the top of the road and that makes things extra-slick, so you need to drive extra carefully. Consider this a public service announcement as the weather starts to turn.

The Amazing Race 8: Episode 5

OK, I was wrong last week when I predicted this week would see the teams in the Dominican Republic (they ended up in Panama), but I was right when I suggested that the international aspect is what makes the race compelling television, as I spent this episode actually interested in the race and not hating all of the teams.

Here is what we learned from the race tonight, and why the international race is better:

• Pretty blond girls get preferential treatment in Latin American countries. The more pretty blond girls you have, the more preferential the treatment, which is why the Godlewskis (4 girls), Bransons (3 girls) and Weavers (2 girls) passed the Linzs (1 brunette girl) in the water taxis.
• Taxi drivers in other countries don't necessarily follow the same rules as drivers here, which is why the water taxi the Gaghans had decided mid-stream (literally) that he was going to go pick someone else up along the way. They put a stop to that.
• What has worked in past episodes of the race won't necessarily work now. Teams have often had success finding a local to guide them to a particular locale in a foreign land. Tonight the Bransons tried that trick, the woman directed them to her place of employment. Way to get a free ride! I'm amazed that it's taken eight editions of the race for this to happen.
• It doesn't matter how scared you are of heights, you'll bungee jump for the Fast Forward. They'll edit the show to make us wonder. They'll cut to a commercial break immediately before the jump, but you'll jump.
• Little League players in Panama can't field a ball for shit. The road block tonight required one team member to get a base hit or home run off a little league team. Several teams had issues making contact with the ball, but once the ball was put in play not a single team had issue making it on base (or at least that's what the editors will have us believe).

And that, my friends, is that. It was a non-elimination leg tonight, so no farewells. The Paolo family snuck their way into first place (by virtue of the fast forward), so I'm praying they make some major mistake next week, which is all but guaranteed to be an elimination leg. I am SO ready to see them gone!

The Cat Is in The Doghouse

I am very upset at the cat right now. I've told him I'm upset with him, have been giving him the cold shoulder, and he is reading this entry as I type, so he'll really know I mean business.

This morning I awoke to the not-so-glorious site of cat puke on the dining room table. Now, I COULD take the approach that this was a fortunate incident, as the table is currently swathed in a vinyl tablecloth which made clean-up ever so easy.

But I am not taking that approach.

The rules of the cat do not allow him on food-bearing surfaces such as tables and countertops. He is more than welcome on people-bearing surfaces such as the couch, chairs, and bed. I don't even have a problem with him on neutral surfaces such as dressers and desks, as he's always been fairly dainty about not disturbing things. Hell, I couldn't even manage to get mad at him the year he found refuge in the top of our Christmas tree (Not a single antique ornament was out of place). But tables and countertops, NOT ALLOWED!

I'm fairly confident the countertop is out of his reach at the moment. He's starting to show his age (11 years) a wee bit, and I notice he prefers to be lifted onto the couch rather than make the jump, and will daintily clamber down rather than leap off. So I think he's past his jumping and climbing prime and can't make it that high. But, unless we get rid of the chairs, the table is still in his grasp. And he's not allowed up there.

YOU READING THIS, SAMSON? STAY OF THE DAMN TABLE!!!!!

He's leaving his perch right now, I believe in public shame. Hopefully this means we won't have a repeat of this morning's performance.

The Second Interview

Had a second interview for a position I am very interested in this morning. At the end of the interview I was explaining to the interviewers how a fantasy football league works. That's a good sign, right?

Cleanliness is Next to Godliness

Some lessons you learn the hard way.

I'm obsessive when it comes to raw meat and cleanliness in the kitchen. The knives, hands and cutting boards get obsessively washed. I won't even LOOK at the wood cutting board if there is raw meat out and the plastic cutting boards go straight into the dishwasher as soon as the raw meat has left it. I try to get the chopping of veggies and stuff done previously, but if I've forgotten I'll use a new cutting board and knife rather than re-using the contaminated surface.

So it's not an issue of I don't know how to keep things clean.

But I don't cook with peppers often. And when I do they're usually of the bell variety.

So last night I was making quesadillas, and the recipie I was using called for a fresh jalapeno for the marinade for the meat. And since I didn't touch the meat after I had touched the jalapenos, and since I'd be back in the kitchen later after the marinating was done I wasn't so careful about washing my hands once it was all done.

And then I inadvertently rubbed my eyes. Both of them. Simultaneously.

OUCH!

I'm going to wash my hands now, just thinking about it.

It's Not Rocket Science

I am NOT interested in doing admin work for a full-time job. So when I tell you I'm not interested in doing admin work for a full-time job, well, that means I AM NOT INTERESTED IN DOING ADMIN WORK FOR A FULL-TIME JOB.

And, just in case you were concerned, administrative assistant, executive assistant, office assistant, office manager... these are all ADMIN WORK. So when I tell you that I am NOT interested in dong ADMIN work for a full-time job, well, that means DON'T CALL ME ABOUT THESE THINGS!!!!

If you'd REALLY been listening to what I had to say in our interview, you'd realize that I'm doing OK with the full-time job search on my own, but I'm looking for temp work to hold me over. I can do admin work in a temp position. Give me admin positions left and right if it's for a short-term gig. But full-time? NOT INTERESTED!!!!

(Can you tell I've gotten several calls from employment agencies this morning that are not my cup of tea?)

Gets You Back Where You Belong

Farmers Insurance disgusts me. The big news on Seattle radio of late has been the story of Ethel Adams. A synopsis: seven months ago an asshole tried to run his girlfriend down. His car hit girlfriend's car, girlfriend's care hit Ethel's car, Ethel goes into a coma for nine days and seven months later can't walk. Yet the insurance company won't pay because it wasn't an "accident."

Now I can understand how the damage to asshole's car isn't an accident. I can MAYBE understand how the damage to the girlfriend's car isn't an accident, and she needs to sue the hell out of the boyfriend to get the repairs done. But I don't think anyone ever had any intent of mowing Ethel down. How can they NOT deem this an accident?

Ethel's lawyers are crafty, though, and they've let all the local media know the story. Several of them have been passing the story along to us and to the Insurance Commissioner's Office. And NOW Farmers' thinking they might pay out after all.

Once upon a time I was insured by Farmers. Went through two accidents with them without issue. Although in both instances it was the other person's insurance that was paying the bill (both were idiots running red lights, in one instance she admitted guilt and in the other I had a witness). Also, the agent was also a good friend of Dad's from his days in the insurance biz, so there was surely some indirect nepotism at play.

If they were still my insurer they might not be for long. At the least, I'd be studying my policies. In fact, I think I should at that to my list of things to do. See how my insurance company defines "accident" so that be prepared for when the unexpected happens. You may want to as well.

So Much For Dreams

Well, now that I'm a married woman the dream job to end all dream jobs is more of a nightmare. On the road for over a week at a time... no, thanks. In my swinging single days I would have jumped on this, but now things have changed.

I gave myself an hour to mope about it, but now we're back to chugging along. Ever the optimist, and always one to try to read meaning into insignificant events, I am even strangely motivated by recent turn of events:

Turn the first -- there is another position open at the company I may be qualified for doing technical support. The person I spoke with on the phone forwarded my resume along, and the manager in charge of hiring for that position just called me up and I'm interviewing Friday at 10am.

Turn the second - I got an e-mail acknowledging receipt of my application for another one of my dream jobs. I had turned the app in quite some time ago, so I'm not sure if this is a good sign or not, but am taking it as such. (Especially considering I applied for ANOTHER dream job at the same place about a week or two earlier than this position, and have yet to receive acknowledgement on that one. That one wasn't as much of a dream as this one, though, so it's all good).

Someone please just hire me already.

The Amazing Race 8: Episode 4

Last night Sweetie and I came to the definite conclusion that this is our least favorite series of The Amazing Race. We think it's because of the US/road-trip factor. The joy of the race, usually, is throwing people into these completely foreign situations and seeing how they react. Situations where following US norms and customs will get you nowhere, fast. They're not getting that here. Also, with their dependence on cars this go-round we aren't having the issues with public transportation: Do I take a train, or splurge on the money for a cab? Do I take the milk run bus that leaves now, or the express that leaves in an hour? Sure, someone will occasionally take a wrong turn, or make a bit faster time by taking direct back roads rather than the interstate, but the race is being run in a bubble and it doesn't make it as much fun.

Next week perhaps this shall improve a bit as they "leave the US." One of the challenges involves baseball, so Sweetie and I are guessing they'll make way to the Dominican Republic. Here's the logic: They're going somewhere Caribbean. Baseball is huge in three specific places: Puerto Rico, Cuba, and the DR. I don't see us going into Cuba anytime soon for the race. Puerto Rico isn't outside the US, so that would be deceptive advertising, so must be the DR.

Sweetie's team was eliminated last night. Which makes me happy. I came to realize that the Dad on the team had a mean heart. Originally I just thought he didn't buy into political correctness, but while completing the challenge at the Talladega Racetrack he was getting sick pleasure out of the fact that it would be a challenging experience for the Weavers - the team who lost their Dad in an accident at a NASCAR track just over a year ago. That's unacceptable behavior. There was a bit of joy in watching the Schroeders lose because they got lost on their way to a park that's less than 30 minutes from where they live.

The Weavers did have a tough time at the racetrack last night, they didn't want to do the challenge at first, but they pulled through. Dad's been dead over a year and loved NASCAR, so it seemed appropriate that they make their way onto a track at some point.

This leaves me with the challenge of who to root for. The team I like the most - the Gaghans - are at the end of their game. The little kids are just weighing them down. They've come in second to last the last two weeks, and last night were EXHAUSTED at the end of it all. I suspect they're only in if other teams screw up more to put them in last place (as the Schroeders did last night by getting lost).

Honestly, I think the Bransens are the most likely to succeed at the moment. Sweetie doesn't like them, thinks they're modern princesses, but I think they're fun. Just need to hope it doesn't come down to a footrace at the end or Dad will have a heart attack.

And I'm really getting sick of saying this, teams, but ONCE YOU COMMIT TO A DETOUR, DO NOT CHANGE!!!! Teams are very anxious to jump ship from one challenge to another this year. I wonder how much of this has to do with the US factor as well. With the detours this time around they're all things I can somewhat relate to, so have an idea of what the deal is before going into it. On international challenges there is always that little bit of local flavor added that can change the game IMMENSELY, which might make a team more wary of making a switch.

It's Only Temporary

Well, the job search charges on full-speed ahead, but I've gotten to the point where I'm caught up on outgoing applications, so I'm signing up with some temp agencies to keep me out of trouble while waiting for the next big thing.

As of this afternoon, I am officially registered with three different companies. I've got another one to go to tomorrow afternoon, and that should be plenty to keep me busy. This afternoon's is my favorite at the moment, as they had called me with an assignment before I even made it home from the appointment with them. I shall do reception and admin work for a mental health clinic for one day next week. Should be a piece of cake, as the crazy brother has prepared me well for dealing with others who suffer mental illness.

I'm already sick of going into temp agencies for these interviews. If you haven't been before, in addition to filling out an application and other random paperwork, they generally have you take computerized tests to evaluate you on your skills with software and your typing speed. Generally I'm required to take a test on Word, Excel, and typing. On the Excel test I usually miss one asking about some function I don't know the name to or I hit a key wrong or something, and the folks totally fawn over my Excel skills. Now don't get me wrong, I've got some pretty kick-ass Excel skills -- once upon a time I had a job in which I created a report in Excel that was about 20 pages worth of linked data, charts, formulas, if/then statements... if it was a bell or whistle that Excel offered, it was probably included in this spreadsheet. However, the fact that I know how to add up a column of numbers, or how to merge cells together, does not relegate me to deity status. My head gets any bigger and I may need some of those mental health services next week.

Damn You Homophones!

When just scanning the dials on the radio while out and about a story on NPR constantly referring to heroine/heroin can almost make your head explode.

Nostalgia

The Gap somehow got their hands on the afghan we used to have on the back of our couch when I was a kid and have turned it into a sweater for children. We had a similar afghatn in various shades of brownl... I don't think they've found that one yet.

What will they think of next?

Diversification

I got these two pieces two Christmases ago. The bottom piece was just a sketch Greg had done, but I really liked it, especially because it was such a diversification from his previous work. The top piece is painted on a piece of old discarded wood.

So there you have it, the Gallery of Greg.

Small Pieces

The fact that these two pictures are framed and hung is proof of my love for my brother. He doesn't always work in standard sizes, and with the graphic nature of his work i like framing them just behind glass, because I think mats and/or frames would distract from the piece. Finding appropriate framing for these two pieces was a challenge. The one on the left I actually trimmed down a wee bit. The one on the right isn't behind glass... at the time I received it I couldn't justify the expense for the custom cuts. Someday I'll fix that.

The Partner

This piece, as is true of the remainder of pieces in the gallery, was a gift from my brother. For a long time there were only two pieces in the gallery. This piece was inspired by the Psychic TV cover of "Set Controls for the Heart of the Sun" as found on Saucerful of Pink: A Tribute to Pink Floyd. When you're in a low spot in life you can lose hours lying on the couch, listening to that song and staring at the picture. Not that I'd know or anything...

The Original

This was the first piece in the Gallery of Greg. At the time he was living in a sketchy room in downtown Portland (it served as a halfway house for some guys), and a group of residents had teemed up with some students at Portland State University to open a gallery in the basement of the building that was open on First Thursdays in Portland. My parents paid him for the piece, but then didn't want to hang it so I graciously took it off of their hands.

The Gallery - A Preview

OK, at Tommyspoon's request, here are photos of The Gallery of Greg.

Disclaimers:
- I'm not a good photographer
- The pictures are hanging in a hall, and I didn't want to take them down to photograph them, so it was cramped quarters and lighting was less than ideal.

So consider this a preview, and if you want a better look you'll have to come visit.

An Overview:


Here is the full gallery, so you can get a feel for the size of the different pieces:


These are the older pieces:



And these are the ones that didn't have hangers on the back until last night. The mat on the bottom piece matches the color in the upper piece. I framed and matted it myself.

Blooper

The shutter speed was on slow when I got started with the photo-taking this morning, but I thought this ended up being a really cool shot.

All Hands On Deck!

OK, folks, it's time for mobilization. Prayers, positive thoughts, good vibes, karma, whatever sort of positive energy you can send my way start sending it pronto!

I applied for a job as software trainer earlier in the week. I'd fly around the country (or, perhaps, the world) to train people when they buy the company's software. This is my dream job to end all dream jobs, but due to the fact that my experience in curriculum development is minimal at best and I don't have a specifically technical background I'm usually disqualifed for these positions before I even apply.

Well, they want to do a phone interview with me, so I've made it past step one. And I just checked out their website. It's continuing education and event management software. I have continuing education and event management experience! I could train people on your software!

Now I need to get all the nervous energy used up, so I'm not crazy woman when they call me!

The Gallery of Greg

I can't believe it's taken me this long, but the Gallery of Greg has finally been installed. Part of the delay was due to the fact that two of the pieces never made it up in the old apartment because they needed hangers on the back, but most of it had to do with the fact that the hallway in which the gallery is hung didn't NEED artwork, and there were always more pressing matters at hand. That said, I'm glad it's finally done.

Greg, if you don't know, is the older brother. As is the duty of any younger sister, I idolized him as a child. To the point where he broke my leg when I was around 10 or 11 months old. Best as my parents can tell, I was following him around (he was about 3 or 4 at the time) and he was trying to escape from me. He crawled up on his bed, and I tried to follow suit. He tried to push my down, but my leg got caught in the bed. OUCH!

Not to say we haven't had our issues, but in retrospect a large part of that has to do with the fact that he's paranoid schizophrenic. He wasn't diagnosed during our teen years, but that's when he first started to exhibit symptoms. Years later with a very loving and tenacious mother doing what she can to take care of him while not sabotaging the rest of us, and a few bits of dumb luck, and we've made it to a happy place where we can all function in a way we call normal.

It's not without it's problems. He was scheduled to be homeless right around the time of the wedding, which really stressed my mom out, but he's a resourceful guy and got it all taken care of.

Sometimes I may seem very blase about issues facing Greg. When he was facing the most recent stint of homelessness my response was basically that he's done it before, he can do it again -- at least it's summer, so the weather is nice. It's not that I don't care, but the fact of the matter is that although he will never be a productive member of society he has always succeeded in getting his needs met. I specifically recall one Christmas. I was living in the city at the time, so picked him up in the morning to drive him out to the folks for festivities. He wanted to stop at Pioneer Courthouse Square, where a group had set up facilities to feed the homeless for Christmas Day (he wasn't homeless at the time, but has been on SSD for about 12 years, and qualifies for Section 8 housing and food stamps, although I don't believe he takes advantage of them). He'd already taken advantage of a few such resources, to the point where he was complaining he was full and wouldn't be able to eat once we got out to the folks'. He managed to eat, though.

He's also the reason I won't give money to pan handlers. I've seen him pan handling on the street before, and know for a fact (from his own admission) that the money was used towards dishonorable purposes. I will, however, look the pan handler straight in the eye and give them a smile. A bit of respect. Everyone deserves that. It's actually one of the things I miss about living in Portland the most. Me, respectable person dressed up for business at hand, running into a scroungy looking tattooed guy, and striking up a lengthy conversation with him. Always makes people do double-takes.

Despite the challenges Greg has some really outstanding qualities as well. He is one of the most compassionate people I know. The death of a bird would practically throw him over the deep end in our younger years.

He's also a pretty incredible artist, which brings us to the Gallery of Greg. It's all abstract stuff, but I'm proud to display his artwork on my walls. Friends often comment on the work. And, as a younger sister it is a way I can show that I still look up to my big brother.

Unsolved Mysteries

Sad news, people. If you wanted to know how much money flowed through my bank account during my sophomore year of college, or if you were interested in seeing rent receipts from the apartment I lived in my final year at OSU (the one where Gary Payton lived), well, I'm sorry to say, but you'd have to go through the shredded remains that are out in the recycling bin to try to piece those things together.

It's a happy day in the House of Swank. The box of papers that needed to be filed, sorted and shredded that has followed me through... let's call it several moves has actually been unpacked. The filing is yet to be done, but the crap is out and the box itself is sitting in the foyer, filled with dishes and linens that have been displaced due to wedding gifts, ready to go to Goodwill.

Now all that's left is to wash sweaters so I can get all those put away (which wasn't feasible earlier, as the prime sweater-drying spot in the house was occupied by boxes), and sort through the two 1/2 boxes of cassette tapes. That project will wait until I am employed again -- thanks to Jack Bog's advice my options aren't just keep or toss, but I can actually save some of that music.

Ten months later and I'm almost completely unpacked!

Confessing My Sins

I just wrote the following thank you note for a gift we received for the wedding:

Dear friends of my parents,

We're sorry you weren't able to make it up to Seattle for the wedding, but thank you so much for the George Foreman Grill! We both like to cook, so I'm surprised we hadn't gotten one for ourselves earlier, but it's definitely appreciated now. Living in a condo, we can't have a BBQ, so now we can bring the outdoors in.

Hopefully everything is going well with both of you.

Thanks!
The SwankPoets


What I FORGOT to mention: By "appreciate" I mean that even if we had the space in which to store a George Foreman Grill, I highly doubt that we'll ever use it. I'd rather have space for my Cuisinart, Kitchen Aid, pasta machine, pressure cooker, two crock pots, etc. However, we returned it to the store and bought a grill pan AND a soap dispenser instead.

10-4 Good Buddy

In Washington State there has been publicity and, I believe, legislation regarding allowing Semi drivers enough room to stop if the need becomes necessary. South of Tacoma there are signs along I-5 reminding you not to cut the truck drivers off.

I appreciate the plight of the truck driver. In my previous position I had occassion to work with several truck drivers and they were all great guys. Perhaps had some relationship issues with the wives, which partly explained why they did long-haul work, but we aren't going to get into that here.

I give trucks plenty of room behind me when I pull in front of them. I don't sit in their blind spots. I give them ample rooms for wide right turns. I only ask for one thing in return, and they can't even provide me with that:

STOP FREAKING TAILGATING ME!!!!

The Amazing Race 8: Episode 3

The Amazing Race's esteem has dropped in my eyes, and it's not because my team got eliminated this week, it's how my team got eliminated.

Traditionally on the race there are a series of challenges you must perform, and how you do in each of those challenges as well as getting from one challenge to another determines your standing. Do well, you can pull ahead of other teams. Get lost, you fall behind. Occasionally there are clusterfucks, attractions that don't open until a certain time or plane flights, which equalize the remaining teams to give everyone a fair shot. And usually a couple of times a season there are challenges where it is simply a matter of first come first served, just get the teams in a set order that you either have to hold onto or fight out of.

Generally, before a pit stop you've got your pretty standard challenges. The equalizers or things that put you in order happen early enough in the leg that you can recover. Not so tonight.

The leg started with an equalizer -- a plane flight. Although, with teams of four and a flight from Washington, D.C., to Charleston, SC, it actually spread the teams out a bit more than they started. The teams had a detour -- tonight's was really a damned if you do and damned if you don't decision -- and from there the next clue put you on one of two charter busses that were two hours apart. An equalizer. Then you ended up at Rocket Park in Hunstville, AL, where there was a sequencing event. Partners from each team rode on a centrifuge to 3.2 g's. Then you make your way a mile to another clue and on to the pit stop.

The thing is, the time it takes you to get strapped into a centrifuge, get up to 3.2 g's, then get out of the centrifuge is more than the amount of time it takes to travel a mile no matter who you are. In other words, the order in which you pulled the centrifuge task was the order you finished. The second half of the teams all arrived at the clue box at the same time. The Aiello's hesitated half a second in who would do the road block, so they lose. That's not a race in my eyes. It's dumb luck.

That said, there were a couple of entertaining moments this week. The first was pure teenage instinct. Boy Weaver and Boy Schroeder were hanging out at the airport talking to each other. They're two boys of about the same age, seems natural that they might bond a little bit. But Step-Mom Schroeder didn't want her son talking to anyone from another team. Because you KNOW when two teenage boys get together and there are about 500 gorgeous girls between the ages of 18-25 they're going to be talking strategy of the game. Boy Schroeder called his step-mom a bitch after that move. He's quiet, but when he speaks he really has something to say.

The other entertainment, I am sorry to say, came at the expense of someone's mental health. One of the Weaver daughters TOTALLY snapped. OFF THE DEEP END. She was talking and singing and dancing and just generally acting like a nut job. Mom just embraced it and rolled with it. Which is, I suppose, what you have to do, but it was still quite funny to watch. I think it's just a matter that life is starting to take it's toll. Dad died fairly recently, she's 19, so probably in her first or second year of college. And then you add the race on top of it. Yeah, that would be enough to make a girl go a little wacko. Next week will be worth watching, as the race will take the teams to a NASCAR track. Dad Weaver died at a NASCAR track. You do the math. For the sake of the race, I hope they pick the challenges of the race BEFORE they pick the teams, as that's sadism beyond belief if they chose the NASCAR challenge AFTER selecting this team who has already been through so much.

So we'll see how it goes next week. I hope The Amazing Race will rise to the occasion and earn back it's respect. But maybe it will continue to sink a little further down. The rules say I now must root for Sweetie's team, the aforementioned Schroeders, and bitch step-mom aside I really do think they may have what it takes to go the duration.

The Pendulum Swings

If you'd asked me a year ago, kids were a long way off in our future. I just wasn't ready for it. But, thanks to friends with cool toddlers, adorable nephews and niece, and eavesdropping on the lives of real-life moms via their blogs the biological clock started ticking. Before I quit my job Sweetie and I came up with a time-frame for when we would start trying to add little ones into our lives. (That timeframe is top-secret security clearance... when you see me in maternity clothes you can start to ask).

Well, I think I may be ready to push that date back some as a result of my experiences this morning. We're attending a baby shower on Friday. It's for a co-worker of Sweetie. We're friendly with them, but not really close. So I head on up to Babies 'R Us this morning, where they are registered, to buy them a gift. I had it all planned out, I would be at the store right at opening time so I could get this out of the way and get on with my day.

As I entered the store the clock started ticking louder... look at all the cute clothes! The toys! The plastic toys you can chew on without worry! Forty-five minutes later, my views had changed, in large part due to the fact that it was forty-five minutes later.

It should have been a simple task: Print out the registry, select a gift that costs what I want to spend, be on my way. But there were no gifts available at that magic number. No problem, there are lots of gifts available at lower prices. This is even better than the original plan - I can buy one "practical" thing and one "fun" thing... that's always nice to do for a baby shower, because it's too easy to just get sucked into the cute stuff, and then the kid has five million onesies but no baby bottles.

So I select the "practial" item and then go in search of the "fun" item. The registry CLAIMS to list locations of the items, but I lapped the entire toy section at least five times and could not find any of the three items I had my eye on. I did find ONE item, but it was a bit above what I was wanting to spend.

Time to adjust the plan. I'll do cute clothes instead of a toy. It's going to be a girl, after all, and they have registered for a pair of infant shoes. I MAY have found the infant shoes, they basically matched the description and were the correct brand name, but the product numbers didn't match. There was no rhyme or reason to the clothes displayed and the clothes listed on the registry. And there seemed to be NONE of the infant essentials on display - onesies and t-shirts and such. Given that these are acquaintances and I'm not sure how particular they are, I decide it's best to not stray off the list. What to do? What to do?

I saw some practical things on the list that looked like they might also qualify as fun, but couldn't actually find them in the store. Then I decide to work backwards. I had found one of the toys they'd registered for earlier. THAT would be the fun item, and we'd rethink the practical item to get them. I find the perfect item on the list and go to search for it. Can't find it. Find perfect item #2. I don't think I found it, as what I found that matched the description cost about five times more than what was listed on the registry.

FINALLY decided to go for a bunch of little stuff: a package of pacifiers, a feeding spoon, a bath thermometer. Stumbled to the check-out and got the hell out of there. It was bad enough for just one visit, I can't imagine having to go shopping there on a regular basis. Or forcing my friends through that experience.

Hopefully my mood will change before we have one of our own.

Shopping with Sweetie
Telephone, hangers, yarn, lamps
THAT'S a Saturday

Quote of the Day

"I may have bought yarn, but it was for a manly purpose." -- Sweetie

Playing a spotter
I'm ready for some football
A teacher's wife's life

Cautious Optimism

So yesterday was interview #1 with a job I could actually see myself doing, that could lead to bigger and better things. I thought it went well, which is especially impressive when you take into consideration the type of interview: There was a list of about 10 questions that included such things as "give us an example of when you reached an important goal, and how you did it!" But they said they liked some of my answers. There was one crazy question that could have killed me, but when I commented that it was a really tough question the interviewer said, "Oh, I don't like that question. I had removed it earlier, but they put it back in." Not quite sure who "they" are, but whatever.

Anyhow, interview ends and we get to the point where the explain where we're going from here. There will be 2nd interviews, but they've really just gotten started with the first interviews, so it will be a week or so before I hear anything. I WILL HEAR, I just may be waiting.

Well, they had to e-mail me a job description, and I received that this morning with the following message:

Hi Swankette:
It was great meeting you yesterday.
I have attached a copy of the job description for your review.
We will be contacting you next week to set up a 2nd interview.

Survivor Thursday
After two job interviews
They won't vote me off

Where There's A Will...

When you have the healthy (grapes) and the unhealthy (cookies) snacks in the house, it does not matter if the healthy foods are sitting right under your nose, and it would not take any effort whatsover to eat them, and the unhealthy foods are in the other room, inside of a package, on top of the refridgerator, not easily accessible... your body will go for the unhealthy choice. Blech.

Listen Up

Well, there's an hour of my life I won't be getting back. Just got back from the second interview of the day. I suspect I may be offered the job, but I'll be turning it down if that happens.

I've been working a wee bit with an employment agency. After posting my resume on Monster at least three different employment agencies have contacted me. In each case it was to offer me the same position I just left. In each case my response has been the same, "Thanks, but the reason I left is to move back into marketing/event planning type stuff, as I've done during the rest of my career thus far." The first two agencies said they'd keep my info on file, but the third agency had a marketing position she put me up for. Coolio!

Well, I've been underwhelmed with the results thus far, and we've slipped into way negative numbers now. The original call was a few weeks ago, and there still hasn't been any word on the initial job she proposed to me. And few phone calls or e-mails as to status or why the delays. I'd pretty much given up on this route.

So last Friday I get a call from her, "OK, we're still waiting to hear on job #1, but I've got another job that I think you would be perfect for. It's Executive Assistant for a Mortgage Wholesaler! What do you think?"

Well, I think that I'm not really looking to be an admin. Nothing against it, but a year from now I'll be bored to tears and ready to move on to something new. Oh yeah, and I want to work in marketing, not be an admin.

"This job entails a lot of marketing, and has the potential to grow into something else."

It doesn't sound like my kind of thing, but I'm willing to interview for it. It never hurts to listen to what they have to say.

The interview was this afternoon. I could rock the job big-time, but it's most definitely an executive assistant/admin sort of thing, and most definitely not a stepping stone into bigger and better things within the company. Sorry, but Swankette doesn't want to play that game. I feel a little bit bad, because they boss was a really nice guy. But better he be rejected by me now then have the benefit of my skills for a year or so and then have to replace me because I've been bored to tears.

But his time and my time didn't need to be wasted, as the job was so not up my alley. Oh, well.

This morning's interview seemed to go really well, and it's actually a job that could turn into a career. Imagine that!

Commuting and the Time-Space Continuum

OK, my intelligent, logical readers, I'm perplexed and need a little assistance.

I live in the 'burbs. When I win the lottery I'm moving into the city, but given Sweetie's desire to not spend 2 hours a day commuting, we call the 'burbs home. In the job search I am not limiting myself to the 'hood. I'm looking in the city, as well as in alternate 'burbs. My official limit is 30 minutes or less each direction in commuting, but I'm willing to stretch that a wee bit for the right job. (Although, with the 'burb that I'm in, I shouldn't need to stretch it much, as if I go elsewhere it will likely be a reverse commute).

So in the search for the next great job I've been spending some time drivng around to potential employers to drop of appplications, interview, scope things out, whatever. One of the locales is in the heart of the city, just North of downtown. The drive there involves a couple of freeways, a bridge that always has traffic, and various city streets. Another locale is in a 'burb north of town, versus the 'burb east of town I currently reside in. It's straight freeway, that turns into local highway, and then you're there.

Distance-wise location #1 is about 5 miles closer than location #2 (15 vs 20 miles, per Mapquest). Time-wise it's about a wash, at least the times of day I've been traveling, so why is it that commute #2 feels about TEN TIMES longer than commute #1? Is it the fact that I don't have to turn the wheel on my car? That the freeway is just so darn boring to look at? That I really am that much of a city girl?

Please explain to me why commute #2 seems so much longer than commute #1. The interview at #2 went well today, and the worst thing I can see about the job thus far is the commute, so I need to figure this out.

What's for dinner?
Pork chops, but no applesauce
I want fries with that

The Power of the Network

There is something very satisfying about being a grown-up with a network of friends. There is something even more satisfying about the fact that in this modern age the network of friends can be anywhere, and can still give a girl a hand.

Once upon a time I lived in Seattle. Then I returned to Portland. Shortly after arriving back in PDX I was at The Fulton Pub with Kaphine and somehow we got talking about people I knew and people she knew and people we both knew and how that could translate into jobs and fun times by all, and I remember turning to her and saying something to the effect of, "Man, it's good to be in a place where I've already got a network!" (Paraphrased, due to the fact that the conversation took place 8 years ago, and the fact that we were drinking beers, quite possibly Terminator, so the memory may be a bit hazy.)

That's one of the hardest parts of moving to a new place, is abandoning the network. Not only on a professional level, but on a friendship level as well.

But now, with this new-fangled internet, the network can come along with you! GrigorPDX has clued me in to a Career Fair that seems like it might be just up my alley. Not only that, but access to another online site on which I might be able to find the dream job. Yay for friends! (And if I procure employment through one of these leads I promise a finders fee to GrigorPDX, maybe some of the aforementioned Terminator).

They say it's not what you know, it's who you know. Thankfully, the whos I know know what I know so they can help out a Swankette in need.

The Amazing Race 8: Episode 2

I hate them all. OK, the Aiellos still haven't done anything to piss me off, and I've become endeared to the Weavers, in part because there wasn't too much talk of Jesus tonight, but beyond that I pretty despise every single team out there. Of course, that's not going to be stopping me from watching the race.

I think it's the whole family dysfunction factor. Put any four members of my family together and we can play nice over a weekend, but force us together for an extended period of time. In an SUV. Camping. While running a race. Yeah, I'm pretty much ready to go postal on them all just thinking about it.

Thankfully, the worst of the bunch is gone now. Dad Rogers is an asshole extrordinare, but his assholeness got him eliminated tonight. He's the southern dad who's in charge of it all. And he gave his son some wrong directions after the first clue from which they never recovered. Of course, he TRIED to blame the son for missing the non-existent turn at the time of the mistake. The son also tried to confirm he was going the correct direction orginally, but there's not much that can be done about it now. I'd have been curious to be at the Rogers house this evening, watching the episode, to see if Dad could admit to what an asshole he is. I suspect not. At least Brock, the son, seems to understand that his dad is an asshole. And now he has televised proof of the fact. And even though they didn't win I bet that Brock will get laid a LOT as a result of this show. So hey, you win some you lose some.

There is one thing that I'm liking as a result of the family factor. Generally on detours there is a physical choice and a time consuming choice. Teams of two are always reasonably fit, and challenges are of such a level that you're pretty much always going to pick the physical choice. Doesn't make for much suspense. But when you have 9 year old girls. Or 50-something housewives. Or dad's on the fast track to a heart attack. Well, then you might need to reconsider which choice you make. Teams are making some silly choices in places, but for the most part there is a divide there that should be followed. And it's not all that tough to run the race with a 9 year old. The other members of the team just need to be physically strong enough to compensate for the fact that the kid ain't doing squat when it comes to carrying heavy objects.

This being a road trip we eliminate the random cab driver of death (as in, you get the cabbie that doesn't understand you're in a race and need to go fast, and therefore you get eliminated). Instead, it's all a matter of when you stop to fill up the tank. Dad Weaver worked for NASCAR before his untimely passing, I wonder if that team will be strategically better off knowing when to bring the car in for a pit stop. Hmmm...

And I've said it before, but apparently it needs to be said again. READ THE CLUES YOU IDIOTS!!! When the clue says go to the US Capitol Reflecting Pool DON'T spend two hours running around the reflecting pool at the Washington Memorial. (I didn't realize there were two reflecting pools before watching tonight's episode, but if I wasn't having luck at the one reflecting pool I'd like to think I'd ask someone a question or re-read the clue before wasting two hours searching for it.)

Life's simple pleasures
Asparagus for dinner
The Amazing Race

No more Favre close-ups
It's not his fault Green Bay sucks
The man needs a team

The World's Shortest Interview

Well, the job search is stumbling along full speed ahead. I've started getting asked for interviews, which is a very encouraging thing indeed. The first stage of a job search is so dang TOUGH. You just sit at home, sending out resumes and cover letters. No chance to talk to people, no feedback on what you're doing right, no one to talk to.

It was getting to the point where I was really starting to question my decision. Even with a Sweetie that's totally supportive of me, and parents who are proud of my decision, it's tough to send out five gazillion resumes and have not a single phone call of, "Hey, we'd like to talk to you!" But at least a couple of organizations have deemed me worthy of speaking to, and from what I know both are organizations and positions that I could totally see working for.

Today was interview #1 with one of the organizations. It was, quite possibly, the shortest interview in recorded history. Here's how it went:

1:18 pm I turned off the ignition on my car. Walked into the building where the interview was to occur. The office didn't have a receptionist desk, so I had to wander to where I heard voice to announce my presence, wait until that conversation was over, announce my presence. Employee left me to sit in the lobby, and went to inform my interviewer that I had arrived. I waited for quite some time. She escorted me back to her office. Explained the company and position. Asked me one question, with a couple of short (yes/no type) follow-ups. Explained that there were a few more people to interview, and those selected would make it on to interview round #2 with the VP of the company, and I should hear back by the end of the week. I walked back to my car. Ignition was back on at 1:36 pm.

So I honestly have NO idea of whether or not things went well. Due to my time with the baseball team I am perfectly qualifed for this position in the way others might not be (due to dealing with both Sponsors and Ticket-holders), but there wasn't a lot of feedback that led me to believe she understood this. Guess I'll know by the end of the week.

In the meantime, I'm reaching for the stars in this job search as well. Over the years several people who would know (including actors, radio DJs, and others in the industry in I can't remember what capacity) have told me I have a good voice for doing radio or voice-over work. Discover U offers a course on breaking into voice-overs. I've seen the class before, but have never pursued it because it seemed impractical while enmeshed in a 9-5 type job. But what have I got to lose now? Just the cost of the course as far as I can tell. We've got plans this Sunday, and I've got that nice, nasal voice that comes along with recovering from a cold, so I'm going to sign up for the December course.

I hate being sick
But I am all better now
Who knows for how long

Charlie vs. Willy

Sweetie and I went to see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory last night. I was very excited about seeing it as:

1) Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory is one of my favorite kids' movies ever.
2) If nothing else, a Tim Burton remake of the movie would be visually spectacular.

So, on the most part we've got a winner. Visually spectacular: of course. Great performances by many. Johnny Depp's Wonka is much different than Gene Wilder's, but I think both represent the character well. The kids all do wonderful jobs.

The Oompa Loompa's in "Charlie" are astounding! One guy plays all the Oompa Loompas - and there are a LOT of them. The fact that these little fella's are doing it all is quite apparent in the remake.

"Charlie" also has a great homage to 2001: A Space Odyssey that is quite entertaining, and makes 2001 make a lot more sense in my mind now. I'm not going to give it away, so you can see for yourself, but I'm still giggling about it. And the movie made some nice nods to the original. They kept, almost entirely intact, one of my favorite lines from the original movie: "Violet, you're turning violet, Violet!" (In the remake it's simply, "Violet, you're turning violet!") Although they didn't keep what is likely my favorite line, "By god, it's gum!" (Don't ask me why these are my favorites, I just love them!)

That said, there are some issues I had with the remake. The main one being, they have changed the moral of the story. If you are still planning on seeing the movie, and want to be surprised, you may want to stop reading now, but I don't give away anything that's not on the official movie website, so I don't feel like I'm letting out some huge spoiler.

In the original the moral of the story was that Charlie was, at heart, a good, honest boy. Yes, he had his screw-ups, but fizzy lifting drink is hard to resist and in the end his honesty and good heart won out. And thus, he won a chocolate factory and lived happily ever after. Which makes perfect sense, as Charlie is the foil to these spoiled rotten, self-obsessed, dishonest kids. This is what makes the movie timeless... even as a grown-up I need to sometimes suppress the Veruca, the Mike, the Augustus or the Violet in me, but just pop that movie into the VCR and it helps me put it all in perspective.

In the new version there is a lot of backstory added, which does add for some great entertainment and explanation on how Wonka ended up this way, regarding Wonka's father. And when Charlie is first offered the chocolate factory he refuses it, because it would mean leaving his family behind. Willy must make amends with his dad, and the offer must include the whole Bucket clan before Charlie will take over the chocolate factory. Which is not a BAD moral to the story, but just doesn't fit with the rest of the film. I mean, the four spoiled rotten children are who they are because of their parents. If the parents would put down a little more of an iron fist, or not push the kid so hard to win, they probably wouldn't be the holy terrors they are. None of the kids invited into the factory have issues with their parents (well, Veruca has issues with her Dad when he doesn't give her what she wants, but it's not like that ever happens), so I don' t know that it makes Charlie that much a foil to them. If they were offered the opportunity to take over the chocolate factory and abandon their parents they'd probably say yes, but more out of what their parents taught them rather than an intense dislike of their family.

That ending just isn't as grand for me. I mean, it's lovely and all, but it doesn't seem to follow what the rest of the movie is about. So although I shall appreciate the new version, the old one will remain high on my list of favorite movies.