Happy happy joy joy the world is no longer a black pit of despair. That’s right, drama queen me! I got a job, sort of. My temp agency got me a 6 month “temp job” at the same place I’ve been temping before (major financial institution). The difference is I’m working in their townhouse in midtown and making a dollar less an hour. It’s still a comfortable $19/hour, though naturally, since I’m a temp, I don’t get any benefits (here’s praying that if I get hit by a car, it finishes me off). You know, when you have a steady income, even if it’s a job you’re not particularly interested in (though not despising), it changes your whole outlook on the world. I feel I can do anything again. I guess it goes to show that all my confidence in wrapped up in my job. Lord, if I am ever fired from a job, I will probably have to be committed.
Well now, what happens? Do I end up stuck in a fairly good paying, though unfulfilling job that is well below anything I’ve trained for had experience for? I hope not. I will continue to look for a job I’m more well-suited to, though with a bit less fervor than before.
I have to say though, this townhouse/office space is really beautiful. It used to be some rich family’s home about a hundred years ago and the house is very old-money-looking, complete with dark, thick wood paneling and staircases, red velvet wallpaper, stained glass windows, and a fireplace in the lobby. *sigh*
So, despite the fact that I have a Master’s degree and about $70,000 in educational debit (and a residual $1000 in credit card debt – see my curses about AmEx below), I am now a receptionist in a “make money make money!” organization. I am a receptionist. I am a receptionist.
Oh well, fuck. I have a job. There are definitely worse situations to be in. And I should know.
Sidenote: Okay, I was a total idiot for not remembering this exactly before, but Feingold was the ONLY senator to voice his dissent at the USA Patriot Act Bill – a move I’m sure plenty of Democrats (and maybe a few Republicans) wish now they had made then.
Speaking of Democrats, I’m still on the John Edwards bandwagon. It’s just because he’s soooo cute! *cough* God, wasn’t that one of the said reasons for having Dan Quayle run with Bush? “Women will vote for him because he’s so handsome.” I’m sorry, because I have a vagina I vote with it? I thought the stereotype of voting with your nether regions was left to men. Anyway, I still like Edwards very much and even signed up on his website (so I have been suddenly flooded with emails). I’ll even cough up some money for his campaign (I’m sure my donation will buy a roll of stamps). But hey, if you give him $35, you get his book “Four Trials” for free! Unlike Kerry whom I can’t relate to (I don’t care if he was Forrest Gump in a past life), and Dr. Dean whom I find totally confusing and comical (I LIKED his fanatical speech in Iowa), or the General (I hate his stance on Israel), or Lieberman (ugh), John Edwards is someone I DO relate to and HOPE I can trust (as mentioned earlier, Feingold is the only politician I’ve felt that about).
Tuesday, February 03, 2004
Friday, January 23, 2004
George W. Bush in Black and White
I wonder if it’s in his voice..., but when the President “Dubya” speaks, I feel a rage build up inside me that, if I could somehow harness it in a superhero sort of way, could easily destroy a city block, like the authentic comic book version of The Incredible Hulk once did. And I find myself wondering, does he sincerely believe what he’s saying, or is he aware that he’s just up there spewing lies like projectile vomit? He MUST know, because if he doesn’t, he’s got denial on level with O.J. Simpson.
George W. Bush is the first time in my life where a President has actually frightened me. I’m sure if I was old enough to understand (and really care), Reagan would have done just the same. But there’s this fervor in Bush, this kind of self-righteous indignation that can only be matched by religious zealotry, a la The Crusades or the Spanish Inquisition. Living abroad I came to love my country, but also became rather ashamed of its leaders. I really fear him being re-elected. I need to get a damn job so I can know when I can volunteer. I guess because I don’t want to complain about being afraid of Bush being re-elected and then doing nothing but casting my one vote for (as of this moment) John Edwards.
I miss Clinton. I really really miss Clinton. I think he was a super intelligent guy in all the right ways. He loved to bask in the limelight like a California teenage in sunlight, but any Presidential candidate who says s/he isn’t a little bit of a limelight lover is a complete and total liar, no matter how much “good” you want to do for the country. I was thinking of his Gladiator-like entrance at his last State of the Union. How he just loved speaking to everyone. I watch Dubya and I don’t see that light, I don’t hear that intelligence. He’s not angry so much as Dean is “angry” (whatever), he just seems like someone out for blood, who sees the world entirely in black and white. Dubya is the closest thing we could have to a theocracy, in my opinion. I hope that makes sense (see previous comments on Inquisition, etc.), but it’s true.
George W. Bush is the first time in my life where a President has actually frightened me. I’m sure if I was old enough to understand (and really care), Reagan would have done just the same. But there’s this fervor in Bush, this kind of self-righteous indignation that can only be matched by religious zealotry, a la The Crusades or the Spanish Inquisition. Living abroad I came to love my country, but also became rather ashamed of its leaders. I really fear him being re-elected. I need to get a damn job so I can know when I can volunteer. I guess because I don’t want to complain about being afraid of Bush being re-elected and then doing nothing but casting my one vote for (as of this moment) John Edwards.
I miss Clinton. I really really miss Clinton. I think he was a super intelligent guy in all the right ways. He loved to bask in the limelight like a California teenage in sunlight, but any Presidential candidate who says s/he isn’t a little bit of a limelight lover is a complete and total liar, no matter how much “good” you want to do for the country. I was thinking of his Gladiator-like entrance at his last State of the Union. How he just loved speaking to everyone. I watch Dubya and I don’t see that light, I don’t hear that intelligence. He’s not angry so much as Dean is “angry” (whatever), he just seems like someone out for blood, who sees the world entirely in black and white. Dubya is the closest thing we could have to a theocracy, in my opinion. I hope that makes sense (see previous comments on Inquisition, etc.), but it’s true.
Ding Dong, The Ass is Dead!
Do you remember (assuming you've actually read this and have any interest at all) when I used to write about the "psycho ex-pats" and the horrible "Australian Fascist" I encountered at work in Bangkok? Well, I just found a funny article on the issue of the vitriolic foreigners on the only place to find a teaching job in Thailand, ajarn.com. I haven't really thought, talked, or done much regarding Bangkok since I left. I guess to me I just ...left. I do talk to my fantastic former assistant director, and continue to receive almost daily emails from former students (in particular, wildly-intensive missives from a 12 year old girl in love with her Math teacher).
My former assistant IM'ed me the other day to announce that the Fascist Australian had cleaned out his desk and left! Wow! We always knew it would happen (besides being such a dick, the guy's self-destructive qualities made Robert Downey Jr. look like a choir boy), but I guess I was still a little shocked. We were joking that it was my presence that kept the guy there. He was always in this epic battle to destroy me, get me fired, spread vicious (untrue) rumours, etc. (MUAHAHAH) that he couldn't quit the job while I was around and admit "defeat." Now, that I've been gone, for only two months, he's finally imploded. Better than exploding; that could have been nasty.
Anyway, I found the article amusing, and a bit gratifying, since all my writings about the psycho ex-pats and the Fascist always seemed overly dramatic in print. I thought people might see me as a drama queen, or worse, an outright liar. In the end, it's just sad. Ex-pat communities ought to be a place of comfort and familiarity when living in a difficult or simply different land. Not always so, I guess.
My former assistant IM'ed me the other day to announce that the Fascist Australian had cleaned out his desk and left! Wow! We always knew it would happen (besides being such a dick, the guy's self-destructive qualities made Robert Downey Jr. look like a choir boy), but I guess I was still a little shocked. We were joking that it was my presence that kept the guy there. He was always in this epic battle to destroy me, get me fired, spread vicious (untrue) rumours, etc. (MUAHAHAH) that he couldn't quit the job while I was around and admit "defeat." Now, that I've been gone, for only two months, he's finally imploded. Better than exploding; that could have been nasty.
Anyway, I found the article amusing, and a bit gratifying, since all my writings about the psycho ex-pats and the Fascist always seemed overly dramatic in print. I thought people might see me as a drama queen, or worse, an outright liar. In the end, it's just sad. Ex-pat communities ought to be a place of comfort and familiarity when living in a difficult or simply different land. Not always so, I guess.
Thursday, January 22, 2004
Happy Birthday to Me!
Today is my birthday. I am 31 years old. What a strange age. There’s no going back now. The twenties are utterly and completely gone. I really liked 30. It seemed like such a nice age (though it was difficult getting through it since it was my last months in Thailand). Now, I’m just 31. How boring.
Last night I reached a special point. I was reading this article on people who have come to live in NY (forever), and the writer made a comment to the effect that at some point, everyone ends up on their bathroom floor crying. Bah! Not me! I don't even cry that much and I'm made of concrete.
Bah, indeed. Guess what I was doing last night? It was right before my birthday (I was born four minutes after midnight and often kind of look forward to that moment), and I was doing some online stuff, like checking on my one remaining credit card bill (I have in recent years paid off all other EIGHT credit cards I once had). I knew I was late with my American Express bill, for the first time in years, but it couldn’t be helped seeing as how I am gainfully UNemployed and doing anything the temp agency throws at me to make rent and keep myself in potatoes. I was noticing how my balance had skyrocketed (no fucking surprise, fucking credit card companies), and then I saw that the “late fee” was $35.00. THIRTY-FIVE DOLLARS! With all this talk from the politicians, why isn’t anyone DOING something about this??? It’s fucking criminal. And you know there’s no rich people suffering such a fine, it’s the people who couldn’t scrounge enough cash to make their minimum payment in the first place. If I couldn’t make my $50 payment, how am I supposed to make another $35? Well, that’s the point, isn’t it? It’s so sinister it just erupted into a wave of malice that washed over me and choked me up. Not wanting to look like a weepy girl in front of my roommate (I have already cried in front of him once which was humiliating enough), I retreated to the bathroom where I let it out. I was overwhelmed that in minutes I was turning 31 (not old, but certainly not fresh and young neither), and that I was a) unemployed, b) totally broke, and c) back into my spiraling credit card debt that I had triumphantly crawled out of inch by inch through my paychecks in Thailand. The feeling of helplessness when you know you’re being totally fucked and there is NOTHING you can do about it is almost more than I can bear at times. It’s not like you can complain to the Better Business Bureau. It’s not like a policeman will show up at their door and tell them to cut that shit out. You just have to find like $150 for your next payment in 28 days (they don’t even give you 30, which screws things up if you’re paid once a month), so you can pay for the minimum balance from last month and this month, the late fees, and the new and higher interest all coming at you like some sort of Odyssesian Hydra.
I hate credit cards. I love them too. I hate this one, but I’ll never be able to get rid of it, because even if I pay it off, I’ll need a credit card just to get that Blockbuster or gym membership or WHATEVER that requires a “credit card, not debit.” *SIGH* No one is going to give me a new one (I was hoping Citibank would, but forget it now), despite my heroic destruction and fully-paid balances on the eight others. I’m going to be stuck with this crappy AmEx forever.
Anyway, that was last night, and today I am better, though still broke and after tomorrow, once again without even temp work. For the moment, I twiddle my thumbs away in the World’s Most Boring Job Ever. It’s my office job that pays really good money, but collectively, has about 45 minutes of basic clerical work for the eight hours I sit at this desk (nine hours if you include your lunch break). I know I should be more grateful, since it does pay well, but I hate to be so idle. I would rather be sitting here typing (which I am obviously doing right now), even some boring report or whatever. I enjoy being busy and doing good work. Luckily, there is just ONE more hour left, and then I can flee to home home home! Wonderful apartment.
And tonight my roommate is doing something pretty great – he’s taking me out to dinner to somewhere very nice. I actually feel really uncomfortable about it (when money’s involved, I always turn into a self-deprecating Catholic priest), but this is one of those things I’m trying to change about myself -- Accept gifts graciously. Enjoy them without feeling immense guilt at the money that was spent for them. Feel worthy of such a gift, etc. It’s not that I really feel unworthy, I was just raised, in a very strict manner, that money was something we didn’t have, we didn’t want anyone to know we didn’t have, and to make sure not to take dime from anyone else. It’s bad bad bad! Yeah, it fucked me up good.
So, tonight we go to Tavern on the Green and I’m going to love it! And order a salad.
Last night I reached a special point. I was reading this article on people who have come to live in NY (forever), and the writer made a comment to the effect that at some point, everyone ends up on their bathroom floor crying. Bah! Not me! I don't even cry that much and I'm made of concrete.
Bah, indeed. Guess what I was doing last night? It was right before my birthday (I was born four minutes after midnight and often kind of look forward to that moment), and I was doing some online stuff, like checking on my one remaining credit card bill (I have in recent years paid off all other EIGHT credit cards I once had). I knew I was late with my American Express bill, for the first time in years, but it couldn’t be helped seeing as how I am gainfully UNemployed and doing anything the temp agency throws at me to make rent and keep myself in potatoes. I was noticing how my balance had skyrocketed (no fucking surprise, fucking credit card companies), and then I saw that the “late fee” was $35.00. THIRTY-FIVE DOLLARS! With all this talk from the politicians, why isn’t anyone DOING something about this??? It’s fucking criminal. And you know there’s no rich people suffering such a fine, it’s the people who couldn’t scrounge enough cash to make their minimum payment in the first place. If I couldn’t make my $50 payment, how am I supposed to make another $35? Well, that’s the point, isn’t it? It’s so sinister it just erupted into a wave of malice that washed over me and choked me up. Not wanting to look like a weepy girl in front of my roommate (I have already cried in front of him once which was humiliating enough), I retreated to the bathroom where I let it out. I was overwhelmed that in minutes I was turning 31 (not old, but certainly not fresh and young neither), and that I was a) unemployed, b) totally broke, and c) back into my spiraling credit card debt that I had triumphantly crawled out of inch by inch through my paychecks in Thailand. The feeling of helplessness when you know you’re being totally fucked and there is NOTHING you can do about it is almost more than I can bear at times. It’s not like you can complain to the Better Business Bureau. It’s not like a policeman will show up at their door and tell them to cut that shit out. You just have to find like $150 for your next payment in 28 days (they don’t even give you 30, which screws things up if you’re paid once a month), so you can pay for the minimum balance from last month and this month, the late fees, and the new and higher interest all coming at you like some sort of Odyssesian Hydra.
I hate credit cards. I love them too. I hate this one, but I’ll never be able to get rid of it, because even if I pay it off, I’ll need a credit card just to get that Blockbuster or gym membership or WHATEVER that requires a “credit card, not debit.” *SIGH* No one is going to give me a new one (I was hoping Citibank would, but forget it now), despite my heroic destruction and fully-paid balances on the eight others. I’m going to be stuck with this crappy AmEx forever.
Anyway, that was last night, and today I am better, though still broke and after tomorrow, once again without even temp work. For the moment, I twiddle my thumbs away in the World’s Most Boring Job Ever. It’s my office job that pays really good money, but collectively, has about 45 minutes of basic clerical work for the eight hours I sit at this desk (nine hours if you include your lunch break). I know I should be more grateful, since it does pay well, but I hate to be so idle. I would rather be sitting here typing (which I am obviously doing right now), even some boring report or whatever. I enjoy being busy and doing good work. Luckily, there is just ONE more hour left, and then I can flee to home home home! Wonderful apartment.
And tonight my roommate is doing something pretty great – he’s taking me out to dinner to somewhere very nice. I actually feel really uncomfortable about it (when money’s involved, I always turn into a self-deprecating Catholic priest), but this is one of those things I’m trying to change about myself -- Accept gifts graciously. Enjoy them without feeling immense guilt at the money that was spent for them. Feel worthy of such a gift, etc. It’s not that I really feel unworthy, I was just raised, in a very strict manner, that money was something we didn’t have, we didn’t want anyone to know we didn’t have, and to make sure not to take dime from anyone else. It’s bad bad bad! Yeah, it fucked me up good.
So, tonight we go to Tavern on the Green and I’m going to love it! And order a salad.
Wednesday, January 21, 2004
Quickie Book Review: Any Human Heart by William Boyd (A-)
The first 100 pages of this book or so made me both smile and grimace. The book seemed like a rip-off of The Catcher in the Rye, but set in England with a slightly more social protagonist. Yet, I couldn’t put it down; it was rather entertaining. My only other complaint of the book is that it is so Forrest Gump-esque. The main character, Logan Mountstuart (great name, eh?), is an upper-class boy who becomes a moderately-successful writer and then proceeds to meet like every famous writer and painter of the early to mid-20th century, including Hemmingway, Picasso, Warhol, Ian Fleming and Virginia Woolf (whom he hates). With the help of his writings and a comfortable, though not outrageous, income, he continues to live a rather extraordinary, though under the radar, life. There’s a very interesting thread regarding Logan’s interactions with the Duke of Windsor (the one who abdicated so he could be with Mrs. Wallace Simpson). The relationship that begins sweetly, ends rather bitterly and had me rather intrigued. So much so, that today I’m going to do some research on the Duke’s time in the Bahamas and see if some of the stuff in the book could be true (I’m assuming he had the famous people in the right places at the right times, even if their interactions with the main character were fictional). The book is written like a true memoir and on more than one occasion I had to check myself -- It seems like it’s a real piece of non-fiction. Despite my criticisms, I thought this book was amazing -- Very enjoyable, very honest, and an interesting snapshot of the passing of the 20th century from someone who had “lived in every decade.” It was fun to read about him living in NYC in the 50’s, to hear of what it was like in locations so close to my own apartment just a half century ago. I also appreciated the very real actions of the “hero,” especially in terms of his libido. Heroes are often made a bit too morally pure. This man was no villain, he was just human. There is the occasional beautiful line in the book as well; the kind that always makes me reach for a pen and underline them (though I rarely come back to read what I’ve deemed so noteworthy). I’ll leave one of them for you just below. It’s a bit romantic and stuff, but so am I. Enjoy.
“Funny, these sensual fingerprints left on your imagination, only revealing themselves much later. Like invisible ink emerging when warmed by a light bulb or candleflame. What was it about [her] that sneaked its way into my sexual archive?”
“Funny, these sensual fingerprints left on your imagination, only revealing themselves much later. Like invisible ink emerging when warmed by a light bulb or candleflame. What was it about [her] that sneaked its way into my sexual archive?”
You Spin Me Round Round, Baby
I can't believe Kerry won! Who voted for him and why? I don't usually write about politics, though I always have a deep interest in it. I guess it?s because I always feel like I don?t have enough information. It?s not that I?m UNinformed or MISinformed, I?m just NOTENOUGHinformed, I guess. I have been paying attention to the Democratic race though, since I am a Democrat and like to take who I vote for seriously. I find myself shifting around though. Since I?ve only been back in the U.S. for a couple months, naturally, Dean was the first one to catch my attention. Then I watched two of the Democratic debates, and found that Gephardt and Edwards caught my attention. But the more I listened to Gephardt, the less I was interested in him. It?s funny though, when he got creamed last night at the Iowa caucus, I actually felt bad about it. REALLY bad. I can?t exactly explain why. I guess if it was up to me, people like Kerry, Dean, and Lieberman would be tossed out much sooner than Gephardt. And how about that Kucinich? He was an interesting guy! Too bad he doesn?t have a chance. There?s no chance for any strong opinions. Strong delivery? Sure. Strong ideals? Forget it. As George Bush Sr. advised George Bush Jr. on the satiric sketch on SNL, ?Slide to the middle, slide to the middle.?
There seems to be this strong dislike in America now for anyone who?s an ?old school? or ?insider? politician. Politicians make gallant claims distancing themselves from D.C., trying to claim that they?re just normal folk, aw shucks. I find this a bit strange myself. Sure, we all like the idea of ?new blood? in the political process ? hoping it will breathe new life into an already sluggish and apathetic political system, but when the older I get also, the more I want someone who knows what the fuck they?re doing. If it were ANY other profession on earth (I?m trying to think of exceptions) you would want someone with experience, contacts, savvy, and simple know-how. You wouldn?t call up a lawyer, plumber, or doctor who didn?t know what the hell s/he was doing ? someone who wanted to distance themselves from the traditional methods (with the possible exception of being into holistic/Chinese medicine, etc.). After recently leaving a job where it took me forever just to figure out how the damn system worked (and it was a helluva lot more complicated than I had ever imagined), I wonder what it would be like for a politician just entering that arena for the first time. To be fair, there is the part of me that thinks there COULD be possibilities. I often wondered back in Thailand if I hadn?t been so keen on following the culture, being respectful to the right people, knowing what I knew, if I could have just plowed ahead like a blind bull and made some more dramatic changes than I did. But I also know that in reality, it would have worked in the short-term, but that in the long-term, the powers that be (and under me) would have conspired to get such a loose cannon out of there, no matter how positive my innovations. What is the result then? Do we just keep in the old dinosaurs and hope they s/he is somehow different, despite his/her years of experience. We pray that the candidate will actually DO what was promised (how many of us actually believe that?).
I still hold a great deal of respect for Senator Russ Feingold of Wisconsin, simply because he seems to have really strong ideals and follows them. Feingold has been the single voice of protest in the Senate -- like after 9-11 when he feared that civil liberties might be rashly threatened in the chaos after the tragedy. After the dust settled, and everyone blinked, they realized that he had been the voice of reason, which is a brave thing to be with George W. Bush playing John Wayne on the tv screen.
Now, I know this isn?t always easy for Feingold or his own employees (as they pick through other offices? discarded office furniture in hopes of something ?new? or have less time off than other offices) to be so ?honest. Feingold GIVES BACK money to the government every year and won?t even accept a pencil from a constituent. The result for Feingold? He just barely won his last election, mostly because he followed his own campaign finance reform ideals and didn?t accept all that soft money, etc. etc. Bumper stickers that were practically dropped from crop dusters in the previous election were suddenly cautiously handed out (for $1). People were asked to re-use their old Feingold lawn signs if they had ?em. Commericals were fewer and farther between. In a time when money has a lot to do with how far a campaign can go, that?s tough. He made it though. And he?s facing re-election this coming November. I wish I could still vote in Wisconsin. I?d vote for him in a heartbeat.
Oh geez, I got way off on a Feingold tangent. I?m going to spend the day reading various Demo?s websites and try to get a handle on what EACH one really stands for (I?ve already started and it?s rather difficult. Spin spin spin!). Maybe I can form a more educated opinion by the end of the day. As of now, I?m going for Edwards. We?ll see.
There seems to be this strong dislike in America now for anyone who?s an ?old school? or ?insider? politician. Politicians make gallant claims distancing themselves from D.C., trying to claim that they?re just normal folk, aw shucks. I find this a bit strange myself. Sure, we all like the idea of ?new blood? in the political process ? hoping it will breathe new life into an already sluggish and apathetic political system, but when the older I get also, the more I want someone who knows what the fuck they?re doing. If it were ANY other profession on earth (I?m trying to think of exceptions) you would want someone with experience, contacts, savvy, and simple know-how. You wouldn?t call up a lawyer, plumber, or doctor who didn?t know what the hell s/he was doing ? someone who wanted to distance themselves from the traditional methods (with the possible exception of being into holistic/Chinese medicine, etc.). After recently leaving a job where it took me forever just to figure out how the damn system worked (and it was a helluva lot more complicated than I had ever imagined), I wonder what it would be like for a politician just entering that arena for the first time. To be fair, there is the part of me that thinks there COULD be possibilities. I often wondered back in Thailand if I hadn?t been so keen on following the culture, being respectful to the right people, knowing what I knew, if I could have just plowed ahead like a blind bull and made some more dramatic changes than I did. But I also know that in reality, it would have worked in the short-term, but that in the long-term, the powers that be (and under me) would have conspired to get such a loose cannon out of there, no matter how positive my innovations. What is the result then? Do we just keep in the old dinosaurs and hope they s/he is somehow different, despite his/her years of experience. We pray that the candidate will actually DO what was promised (how many of us actually believe that?).
I still hold a great deal of respect for Senator Russ Feingold of Wisconsin, simply because he seems to have really strong ideals and follows them. Feingold has been the single voice of protest in the Senate -- like after 9-11 when he feared that civil liberties might be rashly threatened in the chaos after the tragedy. After the dust settled, and everyone blinked, they realized that he had been the voice of reason, which is a brave thing to be with George W. Bush playing John Wayne on the tv screen.
Now, I know this isn?t always easy for Feingold or his own employees (as they pick through other offices? discarded office furniture in hopes of something ?new? or have less time off than other offices) to be so ?honest. Feingold GIVES BACK money to the government every year and won?t even accept a pencil from a constituent. The result for Feingold? He just barely won his last election, mostly because he followed his own campaign finance reform ideals and didn?t accept all that soft money, etc. etc. Bumper stickers that were practically dropped from crop dusters in the previous election were suddenly cautiously handed out (for $1). People were asked to re-use their old Feingold lawn signs if they had ?em. Commericals were fewer and farther between. In a time when money has a lot to do with how far a campaign can go, that?s tough. He made it though. And he?s facing re-election this coming November. I wish I could still vote in Wisconsin. I?d vote for him in a heartbeat.
Oh geez, I got way off on a Feingold tangent. I?m going to spend the day reading various Demo?s websites and try to get a handle on what EACH one really stands for (I?ve already started and it?s rather difficult. Spin spin spin!). Maybe I can form a more educated opinion by the end of the day. As of now, I?m going for Edwards. We?ll see.
Saturday, January 17, 2004
Goodbye, Bangkok. Hello, New York City!
I should have started writing in here a long time ago (yeah, I always say that). I don’t know what my excuse is really – but moving from one hemisphere to the other can be quite tiring and time-consuming. Yes, I am no longer in Bangkok. After three loooong, and yet somehow fast, years, I have returned to the United States. I guess I will have to change the title of my blog now. Don’t want to tempt people with such a title and have them all bummed out that all I’m talking about is New York pizza and the Empire State Building.
Yes, that’s where I am – New York City. It was one of those things, really. I have a good friend whose lease was ending just around the time I was returning from Thailand. He offered, I happily accepted. I’ve always wanted to live in New York city and now couldn’t be a better time. I’m single, I’ve paid off all my credit card bills (except that fucking AmEx card), and I have nothing tying me down (property, children, etc.). We have a really cool apartment on E. 14th Street (fantastic location!), that is actually not small! No, it’s not the apartment from Friends, but jesus christ, who the hell can afford that fantastically unbelievable apartment?
I thought it would be so easy. I arrived in NYC with enough money for my first month’s rent and a nice, hefty (it was to me!) chunk to spare. I’d buy a bed, maybe get a cellphone, buy some home stuff. In fact, on like the first full day I was in NYC, my roommate and I (we’ll call him “Dogbert”), went to the magical Bed, Bath, & Beyond where I slammed down a hefty chunk of money. I wasn’t scared because it wasn’t ALL my money and I’d be working any day now.
Yeah, work. Now, this was another thing I had little fear about. Through my whole life, the only thing that has gone about 100% right in my life – total success and a lot of happiness – have been my jobs (I shudder to say career since I am already 30 and have barely scratched out one). From 15 years old to 15 years later – now, I have ALWAYS been working. I’ve been able to snap my fingers and get a job, starting immediately. And nearly every job I have ever had has offered me a promotion or actually promoted me in some form. My last job promoted me from a teaching position to director in just a year. Part of that, honestly, has to do with the lack of competent talent (and the overabundance of ex-pat psychos), but part of it has to do with my own pukingly puritan ethic. Now, I have been in NYC for six weeks and … NOTHING!
I am unemployed.
It’s not for lack of trying. I think I have applied for about fifty jobs in the past couple of months (no kidding), been only on TWO interviews (both of which I thought I was going to get the job, and wasn’t even contacted to be told what a loser I was). I have looked on job boards (HotJobs, Monster, JobBank, gov’t sites, idealist.org, etc.). I even went to a Border’s gigantic job fair where after three interviews and some sort of phone survey to see if I was a thief, was told they’d get back to me by Friday. It’s now the following Thursday. For a job that only paid $7.75/hour (criminally low for NYC), and three interviews, you’d think I would have at least deserved a “piss off” letter.
Well then, I do what you do – I marched off confidently to a temp agency. After cooing at my resume and giving me big smiles, they told me that there was nothing for me at this time. “What? Nothing?” To me, a temp agency is a place where you go in, they shake your hand, give you some half-desirable job, and you’re off! Data entry, secretarial work, flipping burgers, who the fuck cares? The woman advised me to sign up with three other temp agencies. Again…what?!?! I definitely had no idea what I was getting into. I signed up with three others and only one offered me a job – one for which I had to get a background check for (fingerprinted, the whole works). At least it was something, and it paid $20/hour!!! One other agency did offer me a one day, three hour job. I took it of course, but *SIGH*
Within two weeks, my money was gone (holy crap grocery stores are REALLY expensive here, though you can get a piece of pizza as big as your head for nothing!), and I was still unemployed.
Well, here I am, all these weeks later, and I’m back at that $20/ hour office job. It’s not so bad. I basically fill-in for secretaries (*cough* excuse me, Executive Assistants) who are off on vacation. It’s good pay, very little work (though I actually hate that), and it’s not too far from home. After my first assignment with them, they requested me back personally. See, I told you I do good work! I just need to get a foot in the damn door! The only drawback being I can’t email from here (firewalls, grrr), and so I sit here all day wondering if I have gotten a phone call or email from a prospective employer, only to rush home at the end of the day and only discover nothing on the phone and four emails from my mother.
Rent in NYC, as everyone knows, is not cheap and I have yet to come up with my entire share (I hand over almost my entire paycheck each week to my roommate like some sort of pathetic, indentured servant). I’m almost there, but that’s not how it works with rent. Luckily, I have a very understanding roommate (it doesn’t hurt that he has a very good paying job that makes rent almost effortless for him). That aside, I know many others wouldn’t find it in their hearts to take my piddly paychecks every other week and let me slide. Hooray for Dogbert!
I’ve never experienced this before and I find it astonishingly stressful and demoralizing. Feeling unlucky in love, having family problems, or financial troubles are all commonplace to me, and don’t bother me too much. But this is something I’ve always excelled at and found relatively easy. I don’t even really understand what is going on. Are my cover letters and resume that bad?? (Yes, I have had a few people look at them and offer me comments, but they seem to think they’re fairly on the mark, though they at times tend to be on the long side). I’ve always thought myself excellent in interviews, so why did the only two I have ignore me til I went crawling to them? (“Ummm remember me? I assume I didn’t get the job!”). Also, the total lack of money thing is very stressful as well. Though I haven’t been too terribly fortunate in the funds department in my life, the past three years in Thailand have been relatively comfortable and worry free. I cannot CANNOT tell you how much of a relief, stress-reliever, etc. etc. it is not to have to worry about money every fucking minute of the day. Having to pass by things you really want, having to put off things you really need til the next paycheck or two, having to be embarrassed when that familiar “decline” beep spurts out of the register. Now, after three years of monetary bliss, I’m back to a life of heavy carbs (bagels, cereal, toast, pasta, mac-n-cheese), and wishful thinking (ohhhh there’s Wendy’s…oh that spicy chicken sandwich is soooo good…ohhhhh when I get a good job…ohhhh). I miss fruit and vegetables too (way too expensive right now). I used to eat TONS of fruit in Thailand.
Well, I guess I’ve vented all the shitty stuff about NYC and haven’t gone on about all the great. And there is a lot of great. I really do like it here. Despite my desperate need for something aesthetically pleasing (green grass, blue water), it’s hard to resist the charms of NYC. And as with anywhere gigantic and urban, the real way to experience it is to have a ton of money (trying to experience the “authenticers version of a city is something I’ve always found completely pretentious and idiotic. Stupid travel books and travel diaries!!! Money helps you do all the touristy things (and screw that notion that doing touristy things makes you a clueless idiot). It helps you see and experience things you can’t when you’re broke. Hey, EVERYONE should try NYC pizza and a Gray’s Papaya King hot dog!!! But, don’t think that avoiding some of the other more expensive stuff is somehow making your trip more “real.” *puke barf gag*
I guess most of the good stuff you’re already familiar with. I mean, I’m not living in some relatively unknown city, making it known to the masses “Wow, that New York, what a town!” For now, my joys are small (yes, that pizza is damn good!). I’ll tell you more later. Maybe after I’ve got a job.
Yes, that’s where I am – New York City. It was one of those things, really. I have a good friend whose lease was ending just around the time I was returning from Thailand. He offered, I happily accepted. I’ve always wanted to live in New York city and now couldn’t be a better time. I’m single, I’ve paid off all my credit card bills (except that fucking AmEx card), and I have nothing tying me down (property, children, etc.). We have a really cool apartment on E. 14th Street (fantastic location!), that is actually not small! No, it’s not the apartment from Friends, but jesus christ, who the hell can afford that fantastically unbelievable apartment?
I thought it would be so easy. I arrived in NYC with enough money for my first month’s rent and a nice, hefty (it was to me!) chunk to spare. I’d buy a bed, maybe get a cellphone, buy some home stuff. In fact, on like the first full day I was in NYC, my roommate and I (we’ll call him “Dogbert”), went to the magical Bed, Bath, & Beyond where I slammed down a hefty chunk of money. I wasn’t scared because it wasn’t ALL my money and I’d be working any day now.
Yeah, work. Now, this was another thing I had little fear about. Through my whole life, the only thing that has gone about 100% right in my life – total success and a lot of happiness – have been my jobs (I shudder to say career since I am already 30 and have barely scratched out one). From 15 years old to 15 years later – now, I have ALWAYS been working. I’ve been able to snap my fingers and get a job, starting immediately. And nearly every job I have ever had has offered me a promotion or actually promoted me in some form. My last job promoted me from a teaching position to director in just a year. Part of that, honestly, has to do with the lack of competent talent (and the overabundance of ex-pat psychos), but part of it has to do with my own pukingly puritan ethic. Now, I have been in NYC for six weeks and … NOTHING!
I am unemployed.
It’s not for lack of trying. I think I have applied for about fifty jobs in the past couple of months (no kidding), been only on TWO interviews (both of which I thought I was going to get the job, and wasn’t even contacted to be told what a loser I was). I have looked on job boards (HotJobs, Monster, JobBank, gov’t sites, idealist.org, etc.). I even went to a Border’s gigantic job fair where after three interviews and some sort of phone survey to see if I was a thief, was told they’d get back to me by Friday. It’s now the following Thursday. For a job that only paid $7.75/hour (criminally low for NYC), and three interviews, you’d think I would have at least deserved a “piss off” letter.
Well then, I do what you do – I marched off confidently to a temp agency. After cooing at my resume and giving me big smiles, they told me that there was nothing for me at this time. “What? Nothing?” To me, a temp agency is a place where you go in, they shake your hand, give you some half-desirable job, and you’re off! Data entry, secretarial work, flipping burgers, who the fuck cares? The woman advised me to sign up with three other temp agencies. Again…what?!?! I definitely had no idea what I was getting into. I signed up with three others and only one offered me a job – one for which I had to get a background check for (fingerprinted, the whole works). At least it was something, and it paid $20/hour!!! One other agency did offer me a one day, three hour job. I took it of course, but *SIGH*
Within two weeks, my money was gone (holy crap grocery stores are REALLY expensive here, though you can get a piece of pizza as big as your head for nothing!), and I was still unemployed.
Well, here I am, all these weeks later, and I’m back at that $20/ hour office job. It’s not so bad. I basically fill-in for secretaries (*cough* excuse me, Executive Assistants) who are off on vacation. It’s good pay, very little work (though I actually hate that), and it’s not too far from home. After my first assignment with them, they requested me back personally. See, I told you I do good work! I just need to get a foot in the damn door! The only drawback being I can’t email from here (firewalls, grrr), and so I sit here all day wondering if I have gotten a phone call or email from a prospective employer, only to rush home at the end of the day and only discover nothing on the phone and four emails from my mother.
Rent in NYC, as everyone knows, is not cheap and I have yet to come up with my entire share (I hand over almost my entire paycheck each week to my roommate like some sort of pathetic, indentured servant). I’m almost there, but that’s not how it works with rent. Luckily, I have a very understanding roommate (it doesn’t hurt that he has a very good paying job that makes rent almost effortless for him). That aside, I know many others wouldn’t find it in their hearts to take my piddly paychecks every other week and let me slide. Hooray for Dogbert!
I’ve never experienced this before and I find it astonishingly stressful and demoralizing. Feeling unlucky in love, having family problems, or financial troubles are all commonplace to me, and don’t bother me too much. But this is something I’ve always excelled at and found relatively easy. I don’t even really understand what is going on. Are my cover letters and resume that bad?? (Yes, I have had a few people look at them and offer me comments, but they seem to think they’re fairly on the mark, though they at times tend to be on the long side). I’ve always thought myself excellent in interviews, so why did the only two I have ignore me til I went crawling to them? (“Ummm remember me? I assume I didn’t get the job!”). Also, the total lack of money thing is very stressful as well. Though I haven’t been too terribly fortunate in the funds department in my life, the past three years in Thailand have been relatively comfortable and worry free. I cannot CANNOT tell you how much of a relief, stress-reliever, etc. etc. it is not to have to worry about money every fucking minute of the day. Having to pass by things you really want, having to put off things you really need til the next paycheck or two, having to be embarrassed when that familiar “decline” beep spurts out of the register. Now, after three years of monetary bliss, I’m back to a life of heavy carbs (bagels, cereal, toast, pasta, mac-n-cheese), and wishful thinking (ohhhh there’s Wendy’s…oh that spicy chicken sandwich is soooo good…ohhhhh when I get a good job…ohhhh). I miss fruit and vegetables too (way too expensive right now). I used to eat TONS of fruit in Thailand.
Well, I guess I’ve vented all the shitty stuff about NYC and haven’t gone on about all the great. And there is a lot of great. I really do like it here. Despite my desperate need for something aesthetically pleasing (green grass, blue water), it’s hard to resist the charms of NYC. And as with anywhere gigantic and urban, the real way to experience it is to have a ton of money (trying to experience the “authentic
I guess most of the good stuff you’re already familiar with. I mean, I’m not living in some relatively unknown city, making it known to the masses “Wow, that New York, what a town!” For now, my joys are small (yes, that pizza is damn good!). I’ll tell you more later. Maybe after I’ve got a job.
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