In Which I Discuss Job Searches and Try Not to Be Too Bitter (But Fail.)

YOU DO NOT HAVE TO READ THIS ITALICIZED RANT. It is 11:29 am and I woke up at 7 am so I could have time to go to the bagel store on Ave X and complain about how they accidentally charged me $79.16 on my card for a $1.63 bagel w/ cream cheese last week and WHEN can I catch the boss and get my money back, and also so I could run to the copy center on Hillel Place and get the book that had a bunch of stuff I was supposed to read for a 12:50 class today. The bagel store boss will apparently be notified, so maybe I'll get my moneyz back in cash soon, and I read all the MLK/Malcolm X/Steve Biko in an hour. Go me. Also, stayed up till 5:30 am Saturday night discussing Three of Swords . SO PRETTY MUCH I AM TIRED.

I am unemployed. I go to school 4 days a week and volunteer several hours a week as a freshman guide (Peer Mentor). As a Peer Mentor I sit in on a freshman class, give presentations, am available for questions and help, write reports, talk with amazing faculty members, and send like 6 FREAKIN billion emails a week, I SWEAR. I also write when I have spare time and refresh my Facebook homepage too. So I'm not entirely unoccupied. I mean between classes, homework, Peer Mentoring, OH and my education fieldwork (sitting in on 4 HS classes a week and taking notes on surroundings)...I sometimes have to think hard about how to fit in a life (Solution: Neglect homework. Go out. Have fun. RUSH TO GET THAT CRAP DONE THE NIGHT BEFORE OR MORNING OF.)

I was going to add a lolcat but this was better.

Nevertheless, I need a job. Or, more importantly, I need money. I mean my resume is beefed up decently enough at the moment, and if my rich grandfather died and left me his millions, I wouldn't bother with a job (note: I do not have a rich grandfather. Both of my grandfathers are dead* and never had much of the stuff anyway.). Currently, the only legal path to Brittany Having Money seems to be a job (I have considered illegal options, and I don't think they'd pay out). Or I hear you can make $$ on selling your eggs or whatever for the gov't. to make superhero babies with, but I just keep imagining what if the superhero baby grew up and married one of my legitimate kids? Incest is never cool. Except in Ancient Egypt.

The trouble with looking for a job is that it's a job in and of itself. How many weeks did I spend looking for a job before I was hired by Annie Sez when I was18? Probably more time than I actually spent working there. They should have paid me for my search. Or paid me on time for my work there, instead of like a month after I was hired. I don't know. What I'm getting at is that now that I'm in school, I don't have time to look for a job. But I need the money like you know, starving poor people in the USSR needed bread and lard (been reading Ayn Rand). A job at school would be ideal, but that has not worked out so far.

Attempted job #1 I walked in and the woman exclaimed that I was "such a beautiful girl", asked her coworker what he thought, and he was all ahhh yes she is. Still didn't get the job. Still confused.
Attempted job #2 They kept the "now hiring" sign up even though they were no longer hiring. WORST EVER.

Soon this will be me. Except I'll be humiliated and probably wear a mask or something.

It's no wonder that most suicides are caused by college students who can't find employment.** I mean, here we are, selling our souls for tuition, and nobody can give us jobs. If there are jobs, you have to, I don't know, already know about it, because nobody's going to tell you. You can ask different locations if they are hiring, but there is nothing I hate more than that vague shifty look and a reluctant, "Well, you can leave a resume." I am often throwing my resume into bottomless messy drawers (or more likely the garbage can) via the hands of disgruntled workers that don't want people stealing their hours no matter how much they loathe their job.


Forget looking for jobs online. I used Snagajob.com to get that Annie Sez job though, so they do work. But sifting through them is hell. I look through my school's job search page and everything is for graduated teachers or accounting majors. I just want to sit at a desk and be a receptionist or do filing or tutor some brats.


Someone once told me looking for a job is like looking for a boyfriend. Now I don't venture out into the man market too often (or ever), but I can see the similarities. It takes time and therefore, money, often you expend much effort in the search or attempt and get nothing out of it, you are often disappointed by high hopes, etc. You could maybe even say in the end, when you do get one, you immediately want a better one. JUST KIDDING. That last statement is a PESSIMISTIC JOKE.


Anyway, I think I might have to become a bum eventually. I'll ask the bum at the F station on Bay Parkway if he can spare some room and a corner of that dirty yellow comforter he carries in a garbage bag tucked into his sweater. If I do end up as a bum, I promise however, that I will be an HONEST bum, like this guy:

Sorry for the language. But this made me laugh.

Comment with your job search/actual job horror stories. Or bum stories. I'm partial to those too.

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*I also only have one living grandmother. And one active parent. I am seriously lacking in the family department.


**This probably isn't true. But it might be.

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Bad Mythology and Tolerance, but not Tolerance of Bad Mythology

All I ask out of books in general is that they fit loosely in the broad genre of “good”. By good, I don’t mean a morality tale, where all the sinners get gored on horns of bulls or anything necessarily—I mean sometimes there are moral people who deserve a good goring (i.e. Elsie Dinsmore). Good doesn’t have to mean you feel smarter after having read it, like it’s Dostoevsky or C.S. Lewis. Good could mean Meg Cabot, which leaves me giddy and loving life—and 10x more likely to jump for joy, hit a chair, and tumble soundly onto my face (true story). Good isn’t even necessarily extraordinarily well-written—not everyone’s Neil Gaiman or Orson Scott Card, where every sentence is amazingly crafted constructions of genius. Heavens, no. I wouldn’t even WANT every author to be like that…I’d feel more than a little inadequate then. I don’t think Stephenie Meyer is an extraordinary writer. As much as I enjoy her stories, I do sometimes find sentences I’m not fond of, and in general her writing is hardly mind-blowing. But she entertains, she is consistent with her own mythology, obviously took time to work on her mythology and writing, and cares about her story.

I feel like I could head into a treatise on The Art of Writing, but I won’t and by this paragraph break am stopping myself. Good writing can be anything from Gaiman to Austen to Cabot to Card to Tolstoy to Rowling to Dickens to Meyer to Lewis to Tezuka (a somewhat biased list, except that I’m not a particularly huge Dickens fan and Gaiman is so good that when he’s bad he’s hellishly bad). My standards are not wildly high. Not at all. But there are things I will not abide, and they are so easily avoidable, I don’t understand why some people fall into them so eagerly.

Remember what I said about Meyer’s mythology? Sure, it’s out there and quite weird. But it’s consistent with itself. You may not like it, but it is. It’s believable in context. Once I suspend my disbelief in vampires, I can accept that these vampires have a bloodlust stronger than carnal lust. From there, I will accept that vampires do not want people to know of their existence, so they prey secretly. Okay, and some groups chose (on various grounds) to resist temptation and only drink the blood of animals, which is less tasty and satisfying. I also accept that a socially weird human girl might admire these vampires and want to be like them. They’re noble in abstaining from the things they desire. Meyer’s mythology plays into the way people really are at times, and the kinds of things people find admirable. It moves slowly, and it wasn’t until the later books that the “world” of vampires comes into play—by the last book it was a majorly complicated mythology, but it wasn’t confusing because it came piece by piece.

But some people don’t get that. They dump the mythology in chunks in the beginning, then figure that the reader gets it now and shove along with the plot. Disaster occurs.

“Tantalize” by Cynthia Leitich Smith

This book first came out in early 2007, which must have been the time I first came upon it in a public library. I always fall for pretty cover art and titles—more-so than synopses sadly—and the pretty redhead paired with a sexy title was a win for me. That and vampires, being that I’d been into vampires since eighth grade (pre-Twilight AND Underworld and without reading Ann Rice). I have only the vaguest memories of the plot. All I recall is a girl, her bff who was a boy and a werewolf or something, and someone being murdered after only a few pages. I remember turning back several times, looking for explanations for scenes that didn’t make sense, and being too disinterested and confused to plow through dull writing.

Apparently this book is about a girl named Quincie Morris (ugh) who is an orphan and lives with her uncle—together Quincie and Uncle Davidson (UGH) remodel the family restaurant and rename it Sanguini’s, then because they needed a gimmick to make up for some indequacy I assume, they give the place a “vampire theme”. Remember, it’s called SANGUINI’S. If you don’t see the stupid logic, just move on and be happy. The vampire theme is not gross or weird though, because, and I quote from an Amazon review quoting from the novel, “vampires are a fringe population, and Austin [in Texas] is a tolerant place.” Ok first of all, let’s accept this premise as difficult as it may be to do so. Vampires exist. People tolerate that. Got it. So they make a vampire-themed restaurant? What? This is like making a “black person”-themed restaurant because you live in a town with a decent black population and people are tolerant. What does vampire-themed mean? Not like Mexican-themed, where you eat tacos, hang sombreros, and listen to Spanish music? Do they drink blood, wear fangs, and listen to Evanescence? Or is it more of a general theme, with horrible dish titles that I don’t feel corny enough to imagine? (Feel free to suggest a few of your own.)

Moving on—the chef of Sanguini’s is murdered. My initial guess is an offended vampire, who maybe should’ve lynched Uncle Davidson or Quincie instead for CONCIEVING this idea. But NO. The manner of death implies that a WEREWOLF did it. Oh no and guess what? Quincie’s bff, Kieren, is a “hybrid werewolf who traces his lupine heritage to the wolves that roamed Ireland with St. Patrick.” The police look with suspicion upon Kieren’s noble heritage, which makes Quincie sad because she has a crush on Kieren. But Quincie and Uncle D move on from that, hiring a new chef named…Henry Johnson. Yes. Henry Johnson. Not Edin or Aidan or Jace or something COOL. His laast name isn’t even cool, like Kieren’s (which is Morales). His name isn’t totally random like Uncle Davidson’s. I’m going to just ASSUME he is really a VAMPIRE and that is why his name is Henry, because so many vampires are named Henry, and he’s maybe immortal so he’s old, and has a classic name (like Edward). But Henry is WEIRD. One reviewer describes him as “spooky, with red contact lenses, pale hair, and a menu featuring sweetbreads, blood sausage and baby squirrels in honey cream sauce,” while another sums him up as “quirky.” Well if that’s quirky, please don’t even tell me what’s plain old weird.

That about sums up the premise, but apparently there are conflicts, like Kieren’s choice to leave Austin and join up with a pack of werewolves, a lá Call of the Wild. This also makes Quincie sad I presume, and probably makes the police even more suspicious (understandably). BUT Quincie is distracted by Henry, who “prods Quincie into drinking wine, skipping school, and discovering her sensuality.” I don’t know which is funnier, wine-drinking as the height of naughty-ness or the fact that a teenager needs someone to tell them about their sensual side. Apparently there are more murders and everyone acts crazy and Quincie fears for her life. One Amazon reviewer closes with this bit: “Quincie's story hews closer to the campy Buffy the Vampire Slayer episodes (e.g., " 'You ate the police?!' I exclaimed") than to the elegant romanticism of Stephenie Meyer's books, but horror fans will be hooked by Kieren's quiet, hirsute hunkiness, and Texans by the premise that nearly everybody in their capitol is a shapeshifter.”

Kieren probably looks a little bit like this.

BUT THIS BOOK WAS DULL. And the Amazon customer reviews call it a “pile of bile” and a waste of time and money. None of the reviewer’s give complete spoilers, but I hear evil wins out. (Also people alternate between calling Henry “Brad/Bradley,” so I’m REALLY confused.) I think I get why I couldn’t bear this book and blocked most of it. One reviewer says it felt like the book was missing pages—which was exactly how I felt. You can’t just dump the premise HEY VAMPIRES ARE NORMAL and roll with it. A lot of books try that--dumping a complicated premise on the reader and then forcing onward with their plot. The book I’m reading now, “Fairy Godmother” by Mercedes Lackey does the same thing. Original mythologies are beautiful things, but if handled wrong, they are HORRIBLE. They have to be believable! I don’t believe for one second that if vampires existed, they’d be “tolerated” like they were of a different skin color. If they are tolerated, you have to explain that. Start WITH that. Don’t assume because you say it is so in your novel, readers will believe you. THEY WON’T. In the real world, people don’t tolerate different skin color so easily. It wasn’t easy for the U.S to reach the place it is now, and acting like blood-drinking cold immortals would be accepted enough to have restaurants based on them like they’re a cute joke is just too ridiculous.

I'm not really sure what this means, but it looks like it belongs in this post.

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