Job Searching Sucks!

Now that I’ve officially finished my thesis and hence grad school, I actually have to start looking for a real, grown-up job.  What I would really like to do (and part of my motive for getting my master’s degree in the first place) is teach at the university level, but I’m also looking into some non-profit jobs with institutions that focus on causes I support.  In other words, I’d like a job I can enjoy, but I’m not shooting for the huge paycheck and corner office.  I think I’ve got pretty realistic goals, but the current job market is laughing in my face.

Since May(ish) I’ve sent out tailored resumes and cover letters to approximately twenty positions.  I’ve heard back so far from three: one wouldn’t consider me for the job because I had not yet received my master’s (even though it would have been completed by the job’s start date), the second - which was part time with hourly pay - did not even select me for an interview (though, kudos to them for being good enough to let me know I was no longer in the running), and the third contacted me to get some paperwork to guarantee that my degree was now, in fact, finished (which, luckily it is!).  Don’t know the outcome of the third yet, but it’s a position at the Community College in Marin (beautiful!) and I’m pretty excited about it.  However, I’m forcing myself to not get my hopes up about anything.  From talking to a few people I know who are on hiring committees for various companies/institutions, it seems like the market is so saturated right now that individuals who used to be desirable for these entry-level type jobs are now competing against people who are ten years older, with ten more years of experience and higher degrees. 

Not that I blame the schools/companies.  If you’re getting hundreds of applications for one job, of course you’re going to take the most qualified person you can get.  Though it would be nice if they could send out a form letter letting us poor younguns know our fate.  It’s really difficult to gear yourself up to spend another three hours tweaking your resume and composing a fresh cover letter when you know that 85% of the time you’re not going to get even a rejection letter, much less an offer for an interview.

And I know I’m one of the lucky ones.  I currently have a job (two, in fact) which, during the school year, eeks me out enough to get by, if not by much. Neither of these jobs has benefits, unfortunately, so I know this isn’t a long-term plan, but I can get another few months of health insurance from USC (the one good thing they did for me) which at least affords me the luxury to continue looking for a more permanent career in the field I want to be in. 

In six months though, boy, all y’all kids who just finished your undergraduate degrees had best watch out, because I’m gunna start applying to those jobs you want, and with my master’s and five years of work experience, I’m just gunna keep pushing unemployment further down the educational and experiential ladder. No hard feelings, I hope.

Ruminating on Reuniting: Dartmouth Five Years Later

Last weekend I went to my five year college reunion.  Like most… whatever-you-call-us-since-we-don’t-have-an-official-mascot-s*… I was super excited to go back.  Ever since Daniel Webster uttered those famous words - “It is, Sir, as I have said, a small college. And, yet there are those who love it.” - Dartmouth alumni have felt an undying pressure to freakin’ love the shit out of our alma matter.  (Seriously, I’m not just saying that.  Almost 50% of the class came back from all over the country and world just for this weekend.)

I spent a good deal of the weekend just walking around campus with old friends.  Nearly everyone I talked to remarked on how “weird” it was to be back, because it was all the same.  Well, except for those two giant new dorm clusters and new math building in the center of campus.  I tried to keep my mouth shut.  It wasn’t weird, persay, it was just… Dartmouth.  It had the same smells, the same sounds, the same lazy feel of sophomore summer.  But we knew it was fleeting; come Monday morning we’d all be back to our regular lives: jobs, law-school, residencies, freaking out about how unsuccessful we are because we’re unemployed creative types in a down economy… A friend (who just happens to be a lawyer who works 60+ hours a week) remarked how much she wished she were able to do college all over again, with what she knew now.  After a few minutes of giving her a hard time about the realism of such a thought experience (i.e. would you also know about political events?  would that give you the power to change the future? become really rich? etc.) I started to think about what I really missed from college and what I didn’t.  So after that exceedingly long, whistful, anecdotal introduction, here’s the list I came up with:

Things I miss about Dartmouth:

• Not having to constantly be thinking about money.  Don’t get me wrong, I was poor as poop in college as the only spending money I got came from my measly $8/hour campus job, and I was racking up debt via loans I only vaguely knew I had, but most of my daily expenditures went completely unnoticed: my parents got the bills and sent off the big checks to cover my room and tuition.  All I had to worry about budgeting was whether I had enough cash to order EBAs or not.
• Wednesday Nights.  Wednesday nights were fraternity/sorority meetings campus wide.  I was not in a house.  This left me with a delicious conundrum: if I wanted to go out and party, I knew everyone would be there and be game, but if I wanted a quiet night to myself, I knew no one would bother me.  These days, social interaction requires so much planning.  I can’t just show up at a bar and expect my friends to be there. 
• Canoe Club/Molly’s/Lou’s.  Not because the food at any of these place was particularly noteworthy (though Canoe Club definitely held up even after five years of living in a foodie city) but because going out to eat used to be such an event!
• People thinking you’re interesting for being a film major. In LA if your’e not in “the business” you’re the odd one out.  Going back to Dartmouth I got to talk about all of my “cool, insider Hollywood gossip” and it actually impressed some people (Hey, you know, I sat behind Christina Ricci at a movie one time.  Big whoop.)  Also I-bankers/Lawyers/Consultants all weirdly envy those of us that took the creative route.  Probably because they are envious that we have weekday afternoons off, but don’t understand that we don’t have the money to take ourselves out to a leisurely lunch to enjoy it.

Things I don’t miss about Dartmouth:

• Twin extra-long beds.  I stayed in a dorm when I was back for reunion.  Holy crap I had no idea at the time how uncomfortable those mattresses were when I was in school!
• Safety and Security.  Yes, I realize they were mostly there to keep us safe and/or secure, but those guys could be total tools just for the heck of it, too.  I was reminded of this when a skinny, twerpy little one wouldn’t let any of us grown up adult peoples swim in the river while we were up last weekend.  He seemed so gleeful telling us that it was, “college policy” while sniffling around his straw colored mustache.  
• Low standards of cleanliness. I didn’t even make it into a frat basement this weekend, the dorms were enough.  I’m not a clean freak, but it makes me definitely feel like a grown up that beer-covered floors are no longer considered totally sweet, bra.
• Keystone Light.  My beer palate has improved, thankyouverymuch.
• Paying the check when you’d go out to dinner.  Because I’d always end up covering people who couldn’t do math to figure out tax/tip.  And, like I said, I was poor as poop in college.  Not to say that this doesn’t happen sometimes still, but it’s become a much rarer experience. 
• Dick’s House.  Seriously, worst campus health services ever.  I mean, I hate most aspects of USC, but their student health center literally saved my life.  Dick’s house probably would have given me a pregnancy test, told me that my cancer was just viral, and refused to give me antibiotics until I came back two weeks later pushed in a wheelbarrow my roommate borrowed from some Sig Eps.

Speaking of which, this is all that’s left of Sig Ep these days:

In conclusion, I liked college.  Reunion was mostly fun.  But I also don’t hate being a grown up.  Ah, time, you make it impossible to ever go backwards.  For now.

* Dartmouthians? Big Green-ers?  Kegs?

Writing: The Profession Most Likely to Accidentally Land You on a Terrorist Watch List?

Good writing is good because the conflicts are strong and the plots are intriguing.  Of course, this means it often has to include stuff that’s not part of the writer’s every day life.  And so to learn more about these exciting, obscure, dangerous things, we writers do what every lazy, red-blooded American would, we Google.  And this, of course, leads to an interesting cache of searches.  For me, these have included:

• The names of the clothing the Taliban required male citizens to wear after taking over Afghanistan
• Algerian methods of torture
• How to do a kidney transplant
• Photos of Jack the Ripper’s victims
• How to launder money
• Soviet Era weaponry

From talking to other writers, I know I am not alone in my clandestine searches… if I’m not on some sort of government watch list, the Patriot Act is failing us.

In which I have depressing thoughts

I wrote this a few nights ago but hesitated posting because it seemed really depressing… after rereading I have confirmed that fact, but I also believe that there’s some inherent life truth hidden in my musings (self call?) so decided to post anyway.  Happy Spring Break!!!

Last night on Facebook I noticed a photo tagged of three of my college friends - three friends that also live in Los Angeles - all hanging out together and generally looking happy.  Two of these friends used to be my roommates and the other was a member of my small, tight-knit college improv group; none of them were ever my closest confidants, but neither were they mere acquaintances.  And yet in the past year I think I’ve only actually seen one of them, and that was briefly and over six months ago.

Yes, we all move on with our lives and make new friends and find new paths and interests, but something about seeing these three individuals all spending time together, without me, likely not having a second thought about me, makes me sad.  It also makes me wonder if everything I had believed about our friendships was a lie.

I should probably contextualize: all of these friends were also mutual friends with an ex, an ex with whom I am not on good terms.  And for a variety of reasons - they’re all male and, as a female, I’m the odd one out, they’re all pursuing comedy professionally while I’ve chosen a different post-graduation path, they’ve continued to be roommates with my ex/each other while I have not - my ex seems to have laid claim to them post fall-out.  I’ve tried to maintain the ties by inviting them to events and sending occasional emails, but these invites have never been reciprocated and the responses to my messages have become so few and far between that I rarely try anymore.

My good friend, Amy, has a philosophy on friendship: if the other person is not willing to make as much of an effort to maintain the relationship as you are, then they’re not worth having as a friend.  I agree with her, yet somehow seeing these people I care about slip noiselessly out of my life is very distressing.  No matter how old I get, that 13-year-old girl with crippling self doubt still exists in a a tiny part of me.  While I can list all the logical reasons why friendship with my ex was just easier for them, losing my friends makes me wonder if all those happy memories I have of times spent together making comedic shorts or laughing with/at Food Court Larry were simply illusions, images I constructed in my head to be something more than they were.

Memory is a peculiar beast: self-selecting and extremely subjective.  Looking back can be fun and nostalgic, but it also has a darker side.  I guess all I can do is to continue to believe that there were good times and that I am (and was) a likable person.  I have many wonderful people in my life right now, and I am happy with the path I’m currently following.

You know you’re a real Angelino when…

Instead of getting really excited that a movie is shooting in your area, thinking maybe your house/a place you’ve been to will show up on the big screen, or maybe you’ll catch a glimpse of that charming Reese Witherspoon at the local supermarket, you just get pissed off because the set is invariably making your life difficult in some way…

Today I drove all the way up to Burbank to go skating (like I do every Friday) but was turned away in the parking lot because they were shooting a scene at the rink.  Boo!  Perfectly good friday (a tiny bit) ruined!

A Little Bit of Holiday Schadenfreude

Yesterday started out kind of crappy when I accidentally backed my father’s truck into the garage door and broke it (the door; the truck was fine.) Granted, I am not used to driving such a large vehicle (that’s what she said?) and, per my dad’s instructions, I was focusing on not hitting his motorcycle with the side mirror, but as a person with a decade long clean driving record it was pretty embarrassing and guilt-inducing.*

Luckily my day got better when I found a little joy in the misery of someone else**… a little bit of Christmas Schadenfreude if you will (only the Germans would have a word for such a thing.) As I was driving home I was listening to my weekly podcast of NPR’s Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me.  When they got to the celebrity “Not My Job” segment I realized that I knew the listener that Star Trek’s Mr. Sulu was playing for, and it was a person that sort of rubs me the wrong way.  I have never been so happy to listen to a dorky celebrity fail, and for a “lucky” listener not to get Carl Castle’s voice on their home answering machine.

Maybe this makes me a bad person. Then again… meh.

*Fortunately my dad was able to knock the door back into place so even though it’s still a little bent at least it closes again.

**Okay, so my day skiing at Copper Mountain was also pretty awesome:

Sweet Home, Colorado.

A Woman’s Thought Process

It doesn’t matter how many guys in the previous half hour have offered her an unneeded ride, asked her if she’s single, honked and shouted “DAMN!” (or the Spanish or Armenian equivalent), given her free rosemary fries at the farmer’s market, or called her “honey” while waiting at the same crosswalk with her, it’s the one asshole that shouts “Put on some pants!” as she walks back to her car that a woman will remember.  And that incident will ruin her day.*

Ladies, you know what I’m talking about.  Dudes, you should be even more outraged, especially those of you who like to make women feel beautiful by complimenting them, because one of your own gender is ruining it for the rest of you!  Support self-confident women.  They’re more fun to talk to (and more likely to wear short skirts again in the future.)

*Something that the shock of finding out her ex-boyfriend just got engaged to someone barely 22-years-old without a college education was not able to completely do, mind you.

The Best Analysis of the Health Insurance Debacle I’ve Ever Heard

Why are American health care costs so high?  Who’s to blame? How did we ever adapt an employer based health care system to begin with?  What happens when you put your hedgehog on anti-psychotics?

The past two weeks the NPR radio show, This American Life, has broadcast a special two part series explaining, in depth, what, exactly, IS wrong with the American health care system and how the mess all came to be.  They examine patients, hospitals, doctors, pharmaceuticals, veterinarians, and, of course, the insurance industry.

I’d highly recommend checking out both episodes.  You can listen to both free on their website.

391: More is Less: A surprising fact about Bush’s economic failure.  Are doctors to blame for rising costs? Or is the problem the patients? And, who would win in a fight between a polar bear and an insurance company?

392: Someone Else’s Money: The most exciting hour you’ll ever hear about the insurance industry, including armies of medical coders, prescription drug coupons, what we can learn from pet insurance, and a few parts that actually make the insurance giants seem less evil than we all think they are.

I have definitely begun to question my own role in the problem: do I trust my doctor enough or am I overly cautious and demand every test done at whatever cost?  I think I would find it really hard to say no to anything “just in case” even if it were an incredibly improbable occurrence… Are you part of the problem, too?