Mikania

I have a hard time writing when I’m depressed. And it looks like I’m going to continue being depressed until I get work. But if I stay depressed, then how am I going to get work? People don’t like hiring depressed employees.

In case you didn’t know, I’m unemployed right now. That means that I have a lot of free time on my hands. I usually spend my days holstered in my apartment reading, making jewelry or watching movies on my iBook. Sometimes I write, take the dog out for walks to the waterfront or get up early in the morning and go to my P-Patch to weed. The weeks since I’ve graduated have blurred into one very long, hellish vacation full of mediocrity.

If I had known that I was going to be unemployed this long— as in “not even able to get hired in retail”— then I would have planned some daring cross-country trip using only $1,000 to survive. I would have written about it on this website and garnered international notoriety and a book contract. Who needs a job when you get a book contract? After all, writers are paid so well.

Because I have two interviews coming up, it’s time for something more positive. I have this incessent paranoia that every time I send people a link to my portoflio page, they somehow find their way here and magically read every negative entry on this blog. And then, because they read all of the negative stuff, they think I’ll be a horrible employee and never contact me for an interview. That, my friends, is why I have only had one interview in three months. An interview for an internship I never applied to. An interview for an internship I was “too qaulified for”. “Too qualified” most likely translating to: “I read your blog and you scare me. I don’t want you to stalk me because of this rejection, so I’ll say something nice about you and tell you to call back in three months when I’m pretty sure some poor fool will have already hired you.”

So, now I’m at the positive part. The only problem is I can’t think of anything overtly positive to write. I’ve put the pressure on myself to write something so positive, it will counteract every negative thought I’ve ever had (including the doubly negative thoughts about all of my neighbors since I’ve been writing this blog) and make the next person who reads this want to hire me instantly.

The only thing I can think to do is to exploit my dog and post a really cute, saccharine picture of her. Maybe I’ll add a caption that reads: “My beautiful master is so awesome, she saved me from her evil father and has suffered a number of horrible living conditions because of me. She also paid for vet bills that cost over $2,000 during one summer while only working part-time, taking classes full-time, and paying double the rent because her roommate/boyfriend skipped town to save money by living at his parents’ house. For the entire summer, her only form of nutrition was pasta and beans and she lost over 20 pounds from malnourishment just so I could to go to the vet a lot and eat really expensive dog food. My master is that great. Don’t you want to hire her right now?”

Like I said, this post is about being positive because of the two job interviews I have. Positive. That’s right, everything you just read or saw is positive.

Bright. Happy. Positive. Smiliey faces everywhere!

I picked up the phone hoping it was Amazon calling to offer me an interview. This is how I respond to all phone calls these days- I pray that it’s someone calling to offer me an interview. Of the countless jobs I’ve applied to, only once have I been offered an interview, and that was for the Apple Retail store, which I was rejected from the morning after my interview because I wasn’t “special enough”.

When this morning’s caller turned out to be my uncle, who asked how I was doing, I immediately started crying. I swear, if I don’t single-handedly kill off my entire family by way of cardiac arrest, then it must be some sort of divine intervention that saved their lives.

Someone, please, for the love of <insert god of choice>, for the continuation of all that is holy and sacred, hire me now!

I’ve been working on a portfolio site for the past 72 hours. I’m excited to actually have some of it up on the web now- it’s always like a burden is taken off my shoulders after I upload bits and pieces of my newest web project. Being able to see that it’s finally starting to take shape after endless hours of staring at five different TextEdit pages full of code is what makes the thankless task of web design rewarding to me. I’ll never be one of those people who waits until their entire design is complete before they put it up on the web- never.

Despite having the design mostly done, the content creation part is always the slowest- even more so than creating any graphics. Perhaps it’s because I’m always so vain about my designs that I’ll spend hours of wasted time staring at the overall design again and again when I could be finishing everything up. For now, the “about” and “words” pages are complete. The “resume” page is mostly complete- I need to figure out some sort of navigation thing for it. The “design” page is only partially complete as there are a lot of graphics and writing that need to be added. “Contact” will hopefully be done by tomorrow. As for “musings”- well- that one’s going to take awhile longer, but it’s the least important page at this point in time.

While I was finishing up the “words” page, I received a rejection email from Richard Hugo House for a marketing position I applied for. It’s hard to keep working on a webpage I’m using for job applications after getting rejected for a job I really wanted. I stopped for a half hour and laid down on the bed, berating myself for how my cover letter must not have been perfect enough.

I was really excited about this position and even spent most of last Friday making what I feel was an amazing portfolio complete with matching resume/cover letter to show off my creativity and design skills. To not even get an interview after all of the time I spent on my application is really disheartening. To have them email me a rejection note after having my resume for no more than two or three days is also really disheartening. All of this being disheartened while working on “job stuff” makes applying for other jobs extra disheartening. Right now, there’s a nagging, pessimistic voice in my head telling me over and over again that there’s no point in applying for jobs when I’m so worthless that I’m only going to see rejection email after rejection email.

Even though it’s only been up since mid-January, there’s over 200 signatures on the Pirates of Darkwater on DVD petition. Rock! Even more amazing is that there aren’t any links to the petition on the web- at least none that I can find. I know all of those people didn’t find the petition from my miniscule page views, so I’m quite impressed by the following.

Anyway, it’s an awesome show and you should sign the petition if you haven’t already, or if I haven’t signed it for you yet (though Tyler’s the only one I’ve taken that liberty for).

If you don’t know what Pirates of Dark Water is, then visit Andorus’s Pirates of Dark Water Page, see how wonderful a cartoon it is, and then go sign the petition.

1. I know I’ve been sitting at my computer too much the past few days when I can tell by the sound my hard drive is making that someone is downloading the leaked version of the newest Family Guy through DC++.
2. I know I’m not getting out enough when Tyler opens the door to leave in the early morning and I experience a violent shudder from the light of an overcast sky.
3. I know I need to join the circus when the most exciting part of my day consists of doing handstands on the bed.
4. I know I’ve been watching too much of the same pirated TV shows over and over again when I can qoute a question Darien Lambert asks his computer SELMA and then respond with a qoute from Lion-o speaking to Mumm-Ra- all the while having the patchwork conversation make perfect grammatical and contextual sense. (By the way, is Mumm-Ra some sort of primate, or does he belong to the feline species? I can’t really tell.)

To make myself feel better during the various loser moments I experience throughout each day, my newest mantra is “not having a job will do that to the best of us.”

Exhibit A: One of Mary’s most favorite past-times is being mummified by my favorite fleece blanket.

Exhibit B: Another of her favorite things is raw carrots. She is also fond of broccoli (cooked or raw) and apples (green more than red, but she’s not too picky). But nothing compares to cheddar cheese, which she gets very rarely due to being on a special hyper-allergenic diet that consists of no dairy or meat protein.

Exhibit C: The Lio-Rat Incident. My dog has been mocked, tormented, and stumbled over probably more times than any dog alive. And yet, she still remains faithfully loyal to me, despite having brought her into a household shared by her arch-nemesis- Tyler.

Happy birthday, El Fluffo. It’s been Thirteen long and mostly fun years. Here’s to many more without too many health complications.

I just experienced the misfortune of reading about the newest reality TV show, Show Dogs Moms and Dads. The title makes me glad that my TV is a 13 inch VCR-in-the-bottom contraption that is unplugged and stuffed into a random niche. And yet… and yet… I so desperately want to see this show. Granted, the name lacks all flow and intrigue that the title of Desperate Housewives possesses, but the concept sounds so deliciously demented. I imagine it to be even more outrageous than Best in Show, if only based on the sole fact that it’s a reality show and not a movie. Afterall, reality TV shows are somewhat based in reality, right?

In my mind, Show Dogs Moms and Dads has fanatical dog owners imposing their own personal failures onto their dogs— much in the way those satanic parents everyone knows force their children to succeed in the stead of their personal shortcomings. As I type this, I can almost see vivid scenes play out on my computer screen of the sweat, the tears, and the temper-tantrums the various dog owners display. The owners put so much of their lives into their dogs- dogs that must win awards and be admired at any cost. Before even the first episode is over, I’ve decided that all of the dog owners are psychotic freaks, and that makes me feel better about all of my personal faults. I turn triumphantly to Tyler and say, “See, look at those people. I’m not nearly as much of a freak as they are! Now you can’t give me a hard time about my dog any longer.”

But, alas, I don’t have cable, and I’ve already exhausted my pirating resources for an episode to download. That means that even if I did want to watch this show, my soul has been rescued by the unfortunate circumstances of it’s unavailability.

Note: For this post only, you are allowed to insult, mock and verbally abuse me in any way you deem suitable.

I may have lost my “motor skills”, but I still have the sensibility to wash a dirty pitcher that’s been sitting on the counter for seven days before refilling it with lemonade. This, I am quite proud of.

I’m also feeling proud of the fact that I can coherently write (and spell) while drunk. Go on; praise me. Praise me, damnit!