So much news!

I have not fallen off the face of the earth, despite all evidence to the contrary. I can't believe it's been more four weeks since I last posted. Yikes. All I can say is that it's been a hell of a month, with so many highs as lows that, were I to map them all out, I think the end result would look a lot like this graph of annual water discharge from the Edwards Aquifer. (Sometimes when I get bored, I like to poke around the LCRA's website, OK?) A lot's happened, but here's the high point:

I HAVE A JOB. A real one. I'll be the after school programs assistant at the Theatre Action Project, an arts education nonprofit in my hometown, Austin. Texas. It's exactly the kind of position I've been trying find for the past 14 months, and I could not be more excited. I start the first week of November, which will give me a couple of weeks to settle back in to living in Texas.

And now I have to run off and pack an overnight bag so I can accompany my mom on a two-day trip to our bison ranch (being back home has some serious perks), but I promise to update soon. I'm not 100% sure what I'll be doing with the blog now that I'm employed, although I certainly hope to keep writing it.

Reason #5: I am kind of a big deal already.

Well, OK, I'm not. But Peanut Butter Plan is! Check us out (and see the back of my head--I'm in the red sweater) in this fabulous article in today's Chronicle.

Woohoo!!

Thank you. Thankyouverymuch.

Here's a secret: I am an Elvis fan. "Graceland" was always my favorite track off of Paul Simon's album of the same name. I am the proud owner of a necklace with a photo of Elvis on the pendant. I've been known to listen to "That's Alright, Mama" when I'm feeling down. Last year, I read Last Train to Memphis, an excellent biography that chronicles Elvis's rise to to fame. (Careless Love, by the same author, tells the story of his downfall, though I have yet to read it.) And I have been to Graceland. Well, not the actual house, but the area around it, which was rife with Elvis fans and impersonators. I can't wait to go back.

One thing I love about Elvis is that his signature sound byte (or at least his signature spoken sound byte) was "Thank you, thankyouverymuch." I think it's pretty cool that a superstar of his stature is known for graciousness... well, among other things, but let's focus on the graciousness for now. While I don't have fans in the same way Elvis does, I have been thinking I really ought to have a thank-you section on the blog to recognize everyone who's helped me out and encouraged me in my quest for a full-time job, and so, in the spirit of the king, let me take a moment to acknowledge all these wonderful people (It's ok if you want to skim--I know there are a lot of names here):

• Kendra, my roommate, for putting up with my shenanigans for all these months, making the yummiest brownies in the whole wide world, and weathering her own job search woes with grace
• Kirsten, for her unflagging support, seemingly endless tolerance for bellyaching about unemployment, and superior cover letter proofreading skills
• Renata, for listening, cracking jokes, cooking, being weird, being studious, and for knowing me almost better than I know myself
• Cady, for her patience, wry humor, generosity with chocolate samples, and limitless knowledge about all things San Francisco
• Jack, for letting me invade his store, complain vociferously about unemployment, and then feeding me when I was finished complaining
• Joseph, for being an appreciative eater and offering sound advice
• Ryan, for introducing me to the joys of dark and stormies, pool, The Office, and 30 Rock, and for being a rock
• Leticia, for giving me great advice and amazing volunteer opportunities, and for sending me the nicest email in the history of the world
• Marcela, for her brilliant conversation and vote of confidence in this blog (and in me!)
• Julia, for her contagious optimism, sense of adventure, and fabulous style
• Eugene, my favorite phone tag partner, for his candor, generosity, and fine story-telling
• Diana, Jess, Sayd, Ana, Lexy, Katie, and especially Aston, for staying in touch and regaling me with excellent stories of post-grad life
• Kendell, Whitney, Kim, Zoe, Julia, and Liz, for telling me about their adventures and reminding me that I've had several of my own
• Kate, Maddie, Rennie, Liza, and Juliet, for commiserating with job-search woes and for sending me job postings
• Tom, Jenn, Lauren, Caroline, Paula, and Karen, for their fabulous messages of support
• Tito, for leaving the best comments (and also phone messages) and for being my brother
• Thea, for her sass, sense of humor, ability to mimic just about anyone, and general cheerfulness, and also for being my sister
• Jorge and Marisa, respectively, for discount sushi and never getting impatient with my lack of tech skills, and for passing job opportunities my way
• Emilie, for mad pie-baking skills, sending me job opportunities, and being the coolest Wisconsinite around
• Leigh, for putting the "leigh" in "leader" (Get it? It's like a joke, but not as funny), overseeing an amazing internship, and continuing to send along job postings
• Ninive, for taking a chance on hiring me and introducing me to wide and wonderful world of development
• Uncle John and Aunt Isa, for thinking about me, introducing me to some wonderful people, and just generally being super-cool
• Phil, for giving me the most insightful informational interview I've ever had
• Katie, for her incredible kindness and for making time for me, despite a grueling schedule
• Laura, for her sharp insights into and deep knowledge of the nonprofit world, and for explaining, finally, what the field of communications is actually about

MVP Section

• Milton, for his tireless assistance in sending me job postings, forwarding me connections, and just generally motivating me to keep looking
• Susan, for being a source of inspiration and sending me bajillions of job opportunities in Austin
• My parents, for their constant encouragement and support, and for getting me into the habit of writing thank-you notes

Update: It just occurred to me that I should also thank the coffee shops whose internet and desk space I've been mooching off of. So, thank you to Philz, Haus, Java Supreme, and especially Sugarlump for providing delicious beverages, (mostly) delightful music, and tolerance of my deadbeat tendencies. I really appreciate it.

All of you rock even harder than the king, and that's saying something.

Food for Thought

I applied for a couple of positions at the branch of Whole Foods that's about to open at Noe and 24th, thinking that working there would be a convenient way (I live just down the hill from the new location) to buy myself some more time to network and find the kind of career I actually want. Plus, one of the positions was for a cheesemonger, and how cool would that be? I even wrote up a cute cover letter about how I've been a huge fan of their company ever since I first pushed one of their kid-sized carts up the tiny aisles of their original store in Austin.

Well, it turns out that B.A. in English does not qualify you to stock shelves at a grocery store. I got the second of two rejection emails last Friday, and, even though I sort of suspected it was coming, reading that second was quite a blow--a sucker-punch, really--to my ego. I was initially puzzled as to why this particular rejection cut me so deeply (after all, I've weathered a lot of rejections in the past thirteen months), but I've concluded that I had just started to realize how much I care about food and had been hoping a job at Whole Foods would be a tiny step forward in pursuing that interest.

Now, I don't want to be a chef or a farmer and I don't want to open a restaurant, which is part of the reason I've had such a hard time figuring out that this interest in food could potentially be a career path. (Full disclosure: I would like to own a restaurant, but only if it was a coffee shop/ bakery attached to a super-cool bookstore with a garden in back-- sort of Book People and Explore Books meet the East Side Cafe and Tartine. There would also have to be a bookstore cat. And maybe also an art gallery.) But, as I sat on my bed nursing my bruised ego, it finally occurred to me that I could work on what I guess you could call the Michael Pollan end of the food world. It's actually a little embarrassing that this possibility didn't occur to me sooner. Not only do I cook at least four nights a week, but my family owns a bison ranch that's all about sustainability, my mom has been super-into food for as long as I can remember (which is how I came to be so familiar with Whole Foods in the first place), and I even wrote my college application essay about cooking and how it brings people together. Moreover, I've always loved farmers markets, urban farms, and community gardens, and am constantly on the lookout for articles like these about food and farming.

I mean, duh. Of course I should be looking for jobs that have to with food.

So, if I ever get regular access to the internet again, I will definitely be looking into food jobs, as well as the graduate programs at The University of Gastronomic Sciences, the Slow Food movement's university. Frankly, taking classes on the social history of food, slow food on film, culinary techniques, and gastro-writing as a candidate for a Master's in Food Culture and Communication sounds like a lot more fun than stocking shelves anyway. So, Whole Foods, it was definitely your loss and my gain. Ha!

Experiencing technical difficulties

I apologize for the lack up updates this week. We currently have no internet in the apartment, though we just discovered that we do have mice to keep us company while we try to keep ourselves entertained without computers. Lovely.

Update: Perhaps I should mention that when I say "we," I'm talking about my roommate and myself--not just myself in the royal we.

Mission Mission is my hero.

Not only do they offer consistently entertaining and unexpected coverage of what's happening around the neighborhood, they also graciously agreed to add me to their blogroll. And then they were still gracious when I made a total fool of myself by asking again to be added when they'd done it already. (I'd checked to see if I was on there and failed to notice the link... maybe those alphabetizing skills have atrophied a bit in the past couple of weeks.) Thanks so much to Allan and all the other Mission Missioners.

Woohoo!!

Here's a link to their super-cool blog.

This is why I care so much about doing good work.

My mom pointed me to the cover article in last week's New York Times Magazine. Written by Nicholas Kristoff and his wife, Sheryl WuDunn, "The Women's Crusade" chronicles the appalling conditions in which far too many women in the developing world live out their lives. You should really read the article for yourself if you haven't already, but I'll provide a very short and very incomplete summary here. Basically, Kristoff and WuDunn write, there are anywhere between 60 million and 107 million girls and women who are missing. They've been aborted after their sex was discovered via ultrasound; allowed to die as children (baby girls in some countries aren't given the same health care as baby boys); or kidnapped and enslaved, sometimes as sex workers. For perspective, they note that number is larger than the number of men killed in battle in all the wars of 20th century combined.

That's astonishing by itself, but, at least for me, the real punch of this article lies not so much in its compilation of facts, but in the way it explains the tragedy and stupidity of this "gendercide" and its implications for the rest of the world. There's a growing body of research that suggests that educating girls and giving aid to poor women may be most effective ways to alleviate global poverty. Many of the world's poorest countries are also those with the lowest rates of female education, and researchers are concluding that the two may be related: by neglecting girls' education, those countries are essentially using only half the talent available to them.

As I was reading, it occurred to me one of the reasons--if not the main reason--that I care so much about doing good work is simply because I can. I touched on this in an op-ed I linked to in an earlier post, but I think it bears repeating, especially because I worry that sometimes this blog makes me sounds as though I think I'm somehow entitled to a good job, when in fact nothing could be farther from the truth. I know I'm incredibly privileged even to be looking for a job in the first place. Had I been born almost anywhere else at almost any other time, my job would be raising children, and that would be that. So, once again, I'm not kidding when I say I feel like I have a moral obligation to find employment that will help other people in meaningful ways. And if that doesn't convince people I'm a motivated worker, I don't know what will.

Should I stay or should I go?

Certain people take great pleasure in teasing me about my wimpy music tastes. While I (grudgingly) admit that there’s a bit of truth to their claims that I only like sad, wispy indie bands, I would also like to point out that one of my favorite albums of all time is London Calling. That’s the one with Paul Simonon smashing his bass on the album cover, and it’s neither sad nor wimpy by any stretch of the imagination.

The reason I mention The Clash (other than to give myself a bit of street cred) is that one of their songs--annoyingly, not off of London Calling, which would have made for a tidier blog post--has been stuck in my head a lot lately. As you have probably gathered by the title of this posting, that song is “Should I Stay or Should I Go?” and I’ve been thinking about as I try to decide how much longer to stay in San Francisco.

Albert Einstein once defined insanity as “doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results,” and it occurred to me one morning last week that I’ve essentially been driving myself insane out here. It’s exhausting to be on the lookout for jobs all the time; it’s exhausting trying to figure out how to spend my days when I don’t have freelance work; it’s exhausting never to be able to plan anything more than two weeks in advance; and it’s beyond exhausting when none of it gets me anywhere. I sort of hoped that once I graduated college I’d morph into some sort of bohemian who could just go with the flow and embrace uncertainty, and while I’ve gone from being a type A+ to a type A- or maybe even a type B+, it turns out that I’m still me, and that means I need a routine and a sense of direction, two things I definitely lack out here.

(UPDATE: After writing that, it occurred to me that I actually had no idea whether or not I’m a type A. I just took a personality test online, and apparently I am smack in the middle of type A and type B. This means I am well-balanced and easy to be around. Sweet. Now hire me so I can share my healthy attitude and general charm with your office!)

I can’t pinpoint precisely when I decided it might be time to stop trying to make it out here, but I woke up one morning about a week ago feeling too drained to plunk myself down in a cafe and get excited about jobs that always turn out to be dead ends. I don’t know that things will be better in Austin, but I’m ready for a bit of sanity and stability and I don’t think I’m going to find them in San Francisco. Moreover, Texas isn’t broke; I know people over the age of 30 and therefore have at least a shot of doing some networking; and Austin isn’t a mecca for highly ambitious recent college grads in quite the same way San Francisco is. Plus my family’s there, and I miss them.

So now what? At what point do I give up? Doesn’t it seem like there should be some kind of guidebook for making this choice? If I go there could be trouble, but if I stay it will be double (or even triple, as I could continue driving myself insane for months). The only thing I can imagine making me feel better about making this impossible choice would be if I could smash my Fender against a stage in front of an adoring crowd after I'd reached a decision.

Since that seems unlikely, I guess I'll just go watch another episode of Freaks and Geeks, which finally came via Netflix yesterday. I can't even describe how much I already love this show. I’ve only gotten through the first two episodes, but I’m already dreading the day when I get to the end of the season. It’s that good.

Adventures I've had while waiting for full-time employment

(Sadly, I have not received free coffee, donuts, or soup.)

Adventures in the Mission:

• Gone on a mural tour.
• Eaten the best and most creatively flavored ice cream of my life.
• Participated in the spontaneous block party, complete with dancing in the street, popping champagne, and embracing complete strangers, that erupted when Obama won the election. (Also very cool: On November 5, approximately 70% of the student body at Mission High School appeared to be wearing some sort of Obama t-shirt or pin or carrying a newspaper with his image on it.)
• Survived the bajillions of illegal fireworks set off on the 4th of July (and, since it was the Mission, also the 3rd of July and the 5th of July).
• Watched the Carnaval parade, which happened to take place on my 23rd birthday.
• Gone to a climbing gym with my roommate, who makes bouldering look easy. (It's not.)
• Discovered the free farm stand and not one, not two, but THREE secret gardens. (No links because they're secret.)

Adventures on Public Transportation:

• Been applauded by the entire bus upon finally catching it after a three-block chase (the 49).
• Received free transfers (for the 48 and the 14).
• Witnessed two fights (BART) and one arrest (also BART)
• Finished up my cross-town move in the middle of the Folsom Street Fair (the California Street cable car and the 49 bus). Traumatizing.
• Overheard a 30-something couple break up on the seats directly in front of me (the 48 bus).
• Transported the following home-cooked food via various modes of public transportation: chocolate chip cookies, a strawberry-peach pie, queso, pasta with cherry tomatoes and proscuitto, chocolate cupcakes with Bailey's frosting, and olive oil salt bread. Carrying food on the bus is a good way to make friends, especially if you're taking the 48.

Adventures with Famous People and Fancy Stuff:

• Been an extra in a friend's Scary Cow-funded film. Once she becomes a big-deal director, which she will, look for me in the party scene of the yet-unnamed project. I'm the one who directs the drunk girl to the kitchen.
• Sampled so much fancy chocolate I can't believe I don't weigh at least 400 pounds. Highlights include a bacon chocolate bar (don't knock it 'til you've tried it), camel's-milk chocolate, sheep's-milk chocolate, goat's-milk chocolate, pistachio-chile bark, sea salt caramel chocolates, chocolate-covered macadamia nuts, blue cheese truffles (again, surprisingly tasty), rosemary chocolate, and many, many more. All this thanks to the incredible generosity of Cady and Jack at Chocolate Covered, San Francisco's finest chocolate store.
• Seen and/ or met Michael Chabon, Alice Waters, Dave Eggers, Amy Tan, Sam Mendes, Maya Rudolph, John Krasinski, Neko Case, Michael Pollan, Harold McGee, and Gus Van Sant (all thanks to 826).
• Made friends with people even cooler than those listed above.

Adventures Related to Jobs:

• Learned to write fantastic, if (so far) ultimately ineffective, cover letters.
• Tutored some amazing kids.
• Become a pro at fixing copy machines and alphabetizing files.
• Started this blog!

Flexing my English major muscles

I wouldn't consider myself a rabid Emily Dickinson fan, but this one poem of hers has been knocking around my head for at least the last two years, and I think it sums up my views of what I want out of a job (not to mention my life) much better than I ever could:

I dwell in Possibility--
A fairer House than Prose--
More numerous of Windows--
Superior--for Doors--

Of Chambers as the Cedars--
Impregnable of Eye--
And for an Everlasting Roof
The Gambrels of the Sky--

Of Visitors--the fairest--
For Occupation--This--
The spreading wide my narrow Hands
To gather Paradise--

I wrote an op-ed about this poem for my college's newspaper a couple of years ago, and I find my assumption that I'd have my pick of job offers simultaneously cute and pathetic, sort of like in elementary school, when I was convinced I could make a fortune by mashing up mountain laurel petals and selling them as perfume. (In case you're wondering, crushed flower petals stuffed into water bottles do not make perfume. They make a wilted, stinky mess.) But I still stand by the words I wrote. I still believe--perhaps more strongly than ever, now--that I have a moral obligation to the greatest amount of good I can do. And although I'm no longer counting on Paradise, I am spreading wide my hands, waiting for something to fall into them.

I'm on another blog!

My high school college advisor and personal hero recently completed an Ironman (!!!) and I wrote her a congratulatory email because, well, clearly congratulations were in order. It was the first time I'd been in touch with her for a couple of years, so we emailed back and forth a bit, which was lovely. Then my dad emailed me today to tell me that she quoted one of my emails on her blog! How cool is that? Check it out here.

Phew, that's all for today. I'm back from what turned into a five-hour volunteer shift at the Street Food Festival. I was taking orders at the Estrellita's Snacks booth, which was serving pupusas, tamales, and agua fresca. It was INSANE. I took well over 400 orders and was the only person at the booth with a solid command of the English language (thank goodness I speak Spanish!), which meant I never stopped talking for more than about two seconds at a time. Believe it or not, it was also fun, albeit the kind of fun that makes you want to lie down and watch trashy TV for the rest of your life. I can't imagine how Maria and her helpers are going to make it to 7:00. They are way tougher than I will ever be. But I knew that already.

Reason #4: I am stubborn.

That might not sound like much of a selling point, but let me elaborate. I'm not stubborn all the time. I work well as a member of a team, I like collaborative projects, and I rarely mind compromising on where to eat dinner or whatever. When it comes to things I really care about, however, I can be just as stubborn as that mule in the picture. 

For instance, back in college, I almost always had a passable paper written at least 24 hours before the deadline, and yet I routinely found myself sprinting across campus to hand that paper in on time. This was due not to procrastination, but to a bullheaded refusal to hand in anything but my very best work. I recall one paper in particular that I trashed a day and a half before it was due because I realized a slightly different reading of a key passage could lead to a significantly more interesting thesis. Thirty-six hours later, I was cursing that decision as I ran through snow in sandals to get the paper handed in on time (I'd been so focused on the paper I'd failed to notice the first snowstorm of the year had blown in), but it was worth it. My professor liked the paper and, more importantly, I was really proud of what I'd written. 

This whole job search process is another prime example of my particular brand of stubbornness. I'm quite sure I could have found a full-time job as a receptionist for a company or corporation I didn't care about, but that's just not good enough. That's not why I went to college. That's not why I've spent so much time and energy trying to figure out what I want to do. I don't mean to imply that I think certain jobs are somehow beneath me (they're not), but, as mentioned in an earlier post, I feel strongly that, given the amount of time, money, and energy invested in my education, I have a strong moral obligation to find a job that will benefit people besides me. And, mule-like, I've refused to budge on this issue.

Now, as I see it, digging my heels in about finding a job that helps people is different from refusing to adapt to a situation that's been radically different than I expected, and I think I have adapted. I moved to San Francisco assuming I'd find work with an educational nonprofit, but I quickly realized I needed to broaden my search, to compromise a bit. I think that's actually a good thing. If I'd gotten a job at an educational organization, there's a good chance I would never have looked back. I've applied for educational, environmental, urban planning, social justice, and even a couple of public health jobs, and would be genuinely excited to take on any of them. I'm also getting less stubborn about staying in San Francisco, so, friends, if any of you are reading this and wish I would come join you in New York, D.C., London, Bozeman, San Antonio, or wherever you may be (or, alternately, if you want to get me as far away from you as possible and send me to Timbuktu or Perth or wherever), go ahead and start sending me job postings. I would even consider moving someplace with winter again. 

But I am still determined to do good work, and I don't think I'm ever going to change my mind about that. 

Hearing my own thoughts on public radio

One of my absolute favorite things to do is listen to NPR, usually "All Things Considered," as I cook dinner. There's something inexplicably wonderful about learning what's going on in the wider world as your own world contracts to contain just you and the clove of garlic you're pressing, the cheese you're slicing, or the pasta you've just spilled all over the stove.

This evening, as I was starting to bang pots and pans around (the apartment's short on storage, so most meals begin with a ruckus as I try to pull the correct cooking implement out of our cabinet), I was surprised to hear a story by Firoozeh Dumas about something that's been bothering me for a long time. She was talking about her teenage son's quest for employment and how he's been rejected from everywhere he's applied. Fine, she says, but why couldn't any of the employers be bothered to write him an email telling him they've hired someone else? 

I couldn't agree more. Possibly the single most dispiriting thing about this whole search process has been the silence from the vast majority of employers I've contacted. Usually, after submitting an application online, I feel lucky to get a system-generated email informing me that my application has been received but I probably won't hear from anyone at the organization due to the number applicants. What's more demoralizing is when I don't hear anything at all. No news is not good news. It means you can't ever quite get that job out of your head, while also making you feel that your life isn't worth the 30 seconds it takes for someone to send a form email thanking you for applying, informing you of the organization's decision to hire someone else, and wishing you luck in your future endeavors. 

I didn't even realize how much this silence bothered me until I got a signed letter from the ACLU of Northern California letting me know that they'd chosen another candidate but they wished me luck--precisely the kind of letter Firoozeh Dumas wished her son had received. 

So, to paraphrase one of my favorite Otis Redding songs, employers, I implore you to try a little tenderness, or at least a little common courtesy. We young girls do get weary.

Unemployment Mix

OK, OK, so technically I'm employed, but "unemployment mix" sounds much better than "underemployed and a little bit desperate mix," so that's what I'm going to call it. Here's the track list so far:

• Under Pressure, Queen
• Money (That's What I Want), The Supremes (or maybe someone else)
• Everything's Just Wonderful, Lily Allen
• Unemployed in the Summertime, Emiliana Torrini
• Charm School, Bishop Allen
• This is Not a Test, She and Him
• You Can't Always Get What You Want OR Satisfaction, The Rolling Stones
• Coffee's Cold, Abigail Washburn
• Carry That Weight, The Beatles
• You Ain't Going Nowhere, Bob Dylan

And here are a few more that I think might be a bit of a stretch but are still under consideration:

• Respect, the one and only Aretha Franklin
• Ain't Wasting No More Time, The Allman Brothers 
• I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking for, U2
• Legend in My Living Room, Annie Lennox
• Young Woman's Blues, Bessie Smith
• Blindsided, Bon Iver
• The Underdog, Spoon

I assumed someone who knows more about music than I do would have made a seriously amazing unemployment mix by now, but despite repeated attempts to locate it on iTunes or Google, I haven't come up with a thing. Strange, right? Am I just looking in the wrong places?

A bit of background

I was born and raised in Austin, Texas with two siblings and an ever-evolving array of pets. From grades 1 to 12, I attended Saint Andrew's Episcopal School, where I learned to appreciate the humanities, community service, and Friday night football. By the end of high school, I was ready for a major change and chose to attend Williams College in western Massachusetts. I took all sorts of great classes in history, Spanish, art history, and studio art, but ended up majoring in English. (I was also one class away from a dual degree in English and art.) 

I've never been afraid to venture out on thin ice.

I loved almost every minute of college and, for a time, assumed I would become an English professor. Then some point during my senior year, my bleeding-heart liberal tendencies kicked in and I realized that I need to have a career that speaks to my keen interests in academia, art, and writing while allowing me to have a tangible and positive impact on the lives of people around me. 

Teaching at a public school seemed the most logical way to go, but I didn't want to spend more time in school getting certified to teach. I'd been a student my entire life and was ready for something else. Eventually, I decided I wanted to work at an educational nonprofit. 

I have, in fact, graduated from college.

After graduating, I accepted an internship at 826 Valencia, an absolutely amazing nonprofit in San Francisco's Mission District. I cannot say enough wonderful things about 826 or the internship: I worked directly with kids and on the more administrative end of things, and I knew within two weeks that this was absolutely and without a doubt the kind of work I want to be doing. 

Because the internship was unpaid, I took a temp job at an investment management firm to support myself, figuring I'd be able to find something a bit more permanent and meaningful within a month or two. Then the economy tanked, and, well, here I am. 

Things are looking up... and so am I, dang it!

I've grown a lot this year, both as an employee and as a person, but even so, it's been tough to keep my chin up and not despair. I know there's a recession, I know California's broke, I know social services are getting cut (oh, don't I know it!), but I also know I'm smart, motivated, organized, and creative, and that virtually anyone I've worked with or for will tell you the same thing.

Employers, start your engines. 

P.S. Thanks to my dad for helping me get this post posted. 

The universe might be out to get me, but I'm still determined to track down my dream job.

Sorry for the lack of recent blog posts--there will be a lot this week, I promise--but I just had to share my latest job-search snafu. This morning, I added the blog's URL to my resume and blithely began sending it out as an attachment. After sending the first couple out, it occurred to me that I should double-check that the link was working, and I am so glad I did. The link did not work, and it took me longer than I'd care to admit to notice that the auto-correct had kicked in and changed "blogspot" to "bloodspot." In other words, I'd been directing potential employers to http://www.hireelizabeth.bloodspot.com, which makes me sound like some sort of serial killer for hire. Great. 

Anyway, I sent out follow-up emails explaining that I'd found a typo and was attaching an updated resume, so I'm hopeful that it will be fine, but I can't help but feel there's some sort of cosmic conspiracy to keep me unemployed.

On a happier note, I finally found the secret garden on Harrison Street today! I had pretty much given up on ever locating it when I walked past an unlocked gate--definitely a rarity in this neighborhood. Certain I was trespassing and about to be attacked by deeply territorial dogs or possibly even people (I mean, it is the Mission), I poked my head inside and found myself in a grassy alleyway with murals on the walls. The street noise melted away and it was like I'd stumbled into someone else's daydream. The alleyway opened up and suddenly I was surrounded by plum trees (with people in them, picking the fruit and also causing it to rain down on everyone on the ground), vegetable beds, more murals, and a whole bunch of seriously cool neo-hippies. I was too dazed to do much other than give the woman in charge my email (I said I'd come help them pull weeds next Saturday), but the whole thing was so spectacular it almost made up for the bloodspot fiasco. Almost. 

Reason #3: Hungry? I can help.

I cook a lot. This is not an activity that initially seems related to the working world, but I think there are several connections. First, cooking requires some advanced planning. Vegetables need to be peeled and chopped; crusts need to be blind-baked; fruit needs to be blanched; etc., etc. Second, especially for baking and especially if you're a new cook, you need to be able to follow directions and pay attention to details. Otherwise, your pie crust won't come together, your eggs won't whip properly, your cookies will melt in the oven, and all sorts of other dire and annoying consequences. Third, if you want to be a great cook--not a good cook, but a great one--you need to be able to improvise and be creative. I'm not quite there yet, but I've been cooking a lot this year and I've had very few disasters and a good number successes. 

For instance, an asparagus, tomato, and avocado omelette:

Or salad with pears, feta, and walnuts:

French toast with berry compote:

Chocolate chip cookies with sea salt:

If you hire me, I'll bring the advance planning, attention to detail, and creativity I employ in the kitchen to the office. And I will also bring treats.  

Reason #2: Multitasking is my life.

About 99% of the job descriptions I've read in the last twelve months stipulate that applicants must be able to multitask and manage competing priorities. My cover letters tend to outline ways in which I’ve succeeded in doing both those things in a professional environment, but secretly I always want to include a sentence or two that says something along the lines of, “Of course I can do this—can’t you tell that multitasking and prioritizing are a way of life for me right now?”

My résumé shows clearly that I’ve been working four part-time jobs for the past few weeks and that, since August 2008, there’s never been a time when I’ve worked fewer than two jobs. What it doesn’t show is that I’ve worked all these jobs while searching for and then moving into an apartment, learning to navigate an entirely new city, making new friends, shopping for groceries, applying for jobs, volunteering, keeping up (for the most part) with current events and old friends, cooking dinner at least four nights a week… I think you get the picture. None of this feels like a big deal while I’m in the midst of it—in fact, I usually feel like I really ought to be doing more things with my time—but that list looks pretty impressive when it’s written out like that, right?

By now you may be wondering why I put a photograph of a tomato plant at the top of this post. That’s my big, beautiful tomato plant, which I got months ago from the free farm stand when it was just a tiny seedling that could be housed in a single-serve yogurt container. Managing not to kill a single tomato plant--and also a couple of basil plants, a fuschia, and some thyme, sage, and rosemary (the parsley went to seed, thereby preventing us from having a Simon and Garfunkel song on our front stoop)-- may not seem like much of an accomplishment. But think about it: when I decided to grow these plants, I took on responsibility for the lives of seven other living things, and I've taken that responsibility seriously. They aren’t sentient beings and don’t require as much attention as, say, a toddler, but they are still gloriously alive and still dependent on me to make sure they that stay way.

I’m not saying anyone should hire me solely because I’ve managed to keep myself afloat and my plants alive on a messy schedule full of freelance work. What I’m saying is that I’ve managed to keep myself and my plants not just alive, but also thriving in the midst of what I sincerely hope will turn out to be an anomalously turbulent time in my life. Imagine what I could do if I wasn’t spending so much time and energy on the job search. 

Sometimes, the job search feels like this. But other times, it's strangely OK.

I wish I could claim credit for this fabulous graphic, but I can't. (Credit goes, I think, to a photographer named Jonas Eriksson; his site is here and well worth checking out.) I stumbled across it when I was looking at blogs like mine to see if I could shamelessly steal anything from them. Mission accomplished! 

So, yes, it's been a frustrating several months. At the same time, however, I've learned a TON. Here are three things the job search process has taught me about myself and the world in general:

• If you need help, ask for it. I know, it sounds painfully obvious, but it took me months to realize it's fine to ask family, friends, or even complete strangers to lend a hand. Provided you're polite, most people are eager to help however they can. I've had so many encounters with fantastic people I would never have met if I hadn't shamelessly asked them to help me out. For instance, I found out about La Cocina on Yelp, decided it was somewhere I'd like to work, looked them up, and emailed a woman named Leticia to see if she'd talk with me about similar organizations in the Bay Area. A week later, I met her and we spent over an hour brainstorming places I could apply, and she continues to email me occasional job postings. I still haven't gotten a job out of the encounter, but it's improved my life in many other ways. (Example: the Street Food Festival has been on my radar forever.) How cool is that?
• I am even more disciplined than I thought I was. Since September 2008, I've spent at least six hours a week doing job-search-related work: searching for job postings, emailing Williams alumni, drafting cover letters, contacting people for informational interviews, and, more recently, working on this blog. While sometimes this effort makes me want to roar like that lion in the photo, it's also been great to find out that I have the willpower to carve out a place for myself in the world.  
• Rest is important. I sort of like setting my own schedule, but if you're never technically at work, it turns out that you're also technically never NOT at work (take that double negative, George Orwell!), which is exhausting. Lately, I've been trying hard to take one day a week to take a walk, explore a new neighborhood, draw, write, cook, or do something else totally unrelated to work or the search for work. I'm not living the life I had in mind for myself right now, but I know I'll get there eventually and in the meantime I should really enjoy being alive, healthy, young, and in a fantastic city. Besides, it totally shows if you've mindlessly cranked out four cover letters in two hours, and no one's going to hire a mindless person. Or so I'm told. 

With that in mind, I'm going to see if I can find that secret garden on Harrison Street that I keep hearing about. Wish me luck!

Reason #1: I will organize the heck out of your files.

I have always been incredibly organized and tidy. This particular trait became apparent quite early on. My parents still love to talk about how, as a first-grader, I was so eerily consistent about doing my homework and putting it in my backpack before bed that they considered taking the homework out of my backpack so that I would see it was OK if I messed up. (In the end, they elected not to interfere, and one fateful day in April, I finally arrived at school, opened my folder, and realized I had left my worksheet sitting on the kitchen table. Although I still remember feeling my stomach drop in panic, it turned out not be a big deal.)

In the years since first grade, I'll be the first to admit that I've spaced on a few assignments and deadlines here and there, but I remain one of the more organized people I know. Right now, I work three freelance jobs and volunteer for two organizations, and I have yet to miss a deadline, fail to show up for work, or bring the wrong materials to a meeting. I can do this in part because I am good about writing to-do lists and putting meetings on my calendar, but I was also just born with an organized brain. I won't go so far as to say that filing or alphabetizing are my favorite pastimes, but I do actually experience a certain satisfaction in organizing big stacks of paper that used to be jumbled messes. (I'm also one of those shoppers who puts clothes back on hangers.)  I like knowing where things are, when they're due, and what I need to do to get them done, all of which has served me well in the working world. 

Here are a few concrete examples of how my organizational skills manifest themselves:

• Almost every message in my Gmail inbox is labeled. Once I've responded to it, it gets filed in a labeled folder for future reference. 
• Ditto for my "My Documents" folder.
• I keep a planner. 
• I use my planner. 
• I don't have a closet, so all my clothes are kept folded on shelves. 
• I remember birthdays, usually because they are written down in my planner. 
• I have never been late paying a credit card bill. 
• Friends, colleagues, and family members have been begging me to organize their desks, studios, offices, and lives since I was in middle school. 

In short, you should hire me because I will organize the heck out of your files, inbox, and database.