Well, I had my interview.

I’m not sure how I feel about it though. The interview itself went well, but it seemed rushed and unorganized. For instance, the woman I met while waiting in the reception room was supposed to have her interview at 9:00, but she didn’t get seen until about 10:00 or so. My interview was scheduled at 9:30, and I didn’t get called until shortly after she got ushered away. I was confused on why we were getting taken to two different rooms, but I soon figured it out. They were just trying to get the paper work part of the interview out of the way. The woman sat me down, told me to review my application, had me read the job description, and asked if $28,822 was good for me. I thought 28K floated my boat, so, I said, “Sure, 28K sounds delicious.” However, when I got done reading the job description, I asked if I could have a copy because I had never seen it before. It was a lot more detailed than the version I had seen on the State website. She looked at me very nicely and said, “No, we don’t give these out.” That really confused me, but I didn’t protest. She had me sign a few things, and then ushered me back out to the reception room. “We’ll be with you in a minute, Ms. Cook.”

Another applicant had shown up for her interview. I sat beside her and started up a conversation. I had to size up my competition, you know. Heh. She seemed interesting enough, but came off a bit stiff. After a lot of small talk, we concluded that this was a strange interview process. Through the walls we could almost hear the woman who went in before me being read her interview questions. A few questions later, the door opened and the girl left. The woman beside me said rather emphatically, “Are you kidding me? Only 4 questions?” I gave her my “I don’t know” face and shrugged my shoulders.

The woman who had politely refused to give me my job description stepped in the doorway and called my name. I walked in, sat down and we said our “how you dos”. There were two women. One was the reader and the other was the writer. Quite literally, the interview started out like this: “Number one, how do you feel . . .” I answered the question and the writer took note of the important things that I said. When I finished, the reader continued with: “Number two, how do you . . .” And that is how it went on for 17 questions. I was quite sad that they didn’t ask me the “where do you see yourself in five years” question. I like seeing the look on peoples faces when I tell them I see my self herding sheep in Ireland or whichever country I think of at the time.

I asked them a few questions, and then it was time for me to leave. If I get the job, the only bad thing will be the cost of gas to get me to and from work every week. It’s 40 miles away from where I live. That would be 400 miles a week and 20,000 miles a year. Ouch, man. That’s a lot of miles.

I guess the important question is whether or not I will get the job. If the two women that were interviewing me see race, I don’t think that I will. Eastover is predominantly a black community, and from what I saw, their office was, too. The two other applicants that I met were black as well. I mean, if the other 10 or so applicants are more qualified than me, I would want them to get the job before I did, even though I’m about as broke as a robbed bank. I guess we’ll see what happens in 2 to 4 weeks. That’s the time frame that they gave me.

I also gave USC another call. I’m sure that I’m like a gnat that just won’t stop buzzing in their ear, but if it gets me the job, I don’t care. They said that they should make a decision this week. I had my interview with them the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. I would hope they’ve had enough time to figure out who they want for the job. I was thinking though, the other applicants have probably been as unemployed as long as I have. If that is the case, they may have already found jobs and they’ll have to choose me! Hey, I can dream.

Everyone keep their fingers crossed!

It’s a beautiful day outside. Blue skies. About 65 degrees. Couldn’t ask for much more on a late December day. I guess tonight, I am going to go over to Phil’s and watch the ball drop. He can’t come to my house because he’s allergic to my kitty, Morgan Rose Ireland Yvette DeWitter. He loves her, but she just makes him sneeze like mad. I’ve thought about buying stock in Kleenex – he goes through about a box a day. Poor, poor, Philby.

We haven’t bought any fireworks. Or any hard liquor. Not even streamers, poppers or hats. It’ll just be the two of us eating left over lamb as we watch the ball take its yearly plunge. We won’t have much of a party, I guess. Perhaps, we’re just getting too old for that stuff. Ha. Ha. Ha. Just as long as the cable works until midnight, everything will be okay.

Oh, and I have my interview for the Human Services position out in Eastover on the 3rd. Wish me luck. If I don’t get a job in the next few days, I’m going to have to sell my soul to the devil or something and I’d rather not.

I finally landed an interview with the State!

Yippy Skippy as Ms. Piggy would say.  My brother, Nathaniel, always hated when she said that for some reason.  As much as I am happy, I am a little sad.  The place that I will be interviewed and most likely work, if I even get the job, is 30 miles away from where I live.  My interview is at the Department of Social Services and the position title is Human Services Specialist II.  It’s located over in Eastover somewhere.  I’ve heard of Eastover, but I’ve never been there.  It’s one of those places you know exists, but if someone asked you how to get there, you’d wouldn’t know which direction to send them.  Since I don’t know the area at all, I looked up the address they gave me so I would have some idea of how to get there come January 3rd.  Well, I typed it into to Google, and hit the map button, and Google told me it didn’t exist.  If it doesn’t exist on Google, where does it?  Phil somehow was able to find the longitude and latitude and plugged that in, and finally was able to bring it up on Yahoo Maps. But goodness, it shouldn’t be that hard to find a flipping street.  Anyway, wish me luck because I really, really, need a job.

In other news, I think I found out one of the reasons why it has been difficult finding a job – read on.

SC unemployment rate rises for the 3rd straight month

Long time no blog.

I have no real excuses.

I am still working on the post about my trip to the Shenyang hospital.  Most of it is done, but I want it to be as perfect as I can get it.  I’m a stupid perfectionist, what can I say?

Lately, life has been, well, life.  I had $255.00 of work done on my car, so now I am really hurting for money.  It took away a month that I could wait on a good job.  So, to make sure that I don’t spend another unnecessary penny, I sleep all day.  If I am asleep, I can’t drive and waste gas and I definitely can’t eat.  Eating cost money unless there is food stashed in the cupboards( I never knew that word was spelled like that).  My day, on most days, consists of me getting up and applying for any and all jobs that I can find online and then waiting for one of the 120 jobs I’ve applied to already to call me back for a freaking interview. 

As you may have read, Phil was offered a fairly nice job at the State.  He was happy.  I was happy.  Blue Cross Blue Shields(an insurance company) however, was not.  They begged and pleaded him to come in for an interview, knowing full well that he already had a job.  He decided to go and appease them.  I mean, what would it hurt to see what they had to offer?  On the day of his interview, they kept him for 3 hours and gave him an offer that the majority of the people on the planet couldn’t turn down.  I can’t quote the number they offered because that would be rude, and I don’t think Phil would appreciate it, but I can say that it was a heck of a lot more than the State cared to put on the table.  Also, it is probably more than I will ever make annually.  So, if I had a Sugar Daddy before, I must have Sugar Daddy Executive now.  Heh.

Also in the news of Gabe, my mother has told me that I am allowed to turn my backyard into berry farm. 

GabbyGirl1981: I found a raspberry plant that grows in the south
dianacarol47: GREAT
GabbyGirl1981: Now I just need a plot of land so I can start growing blackberries, strawberries, blueberries and raspberries.
GabbyGirl1981: Can I just use the back yard?
GabbyGirl1981: like, all of it?
dianacarol47: SURE
dianacarol47: YEAH

I was so happy that I started walking my backyard to figure out just how many plants I could stuff back there.  If you have ever seen my backyard, it’s not very big, but it could probably hold around 60 plants or so comfortably.  Maybe more.  I am going to have to get out there and measure and what not before I order anything.  First, I need cash, which means I need a job.  Hopefully, that will happen before too long.  Once I get one, I can order from a nursery in Georgia that carries southern varieties of raspberries and blueberries.  For 20 blackberry, 20 raspberry, 10 blueberries, and 10 strawberry bushes, it will only cost $234.00, including shipping.  Not that bad really.  My only other cost would be any soil I would have to buy, as well as any other garden needs.  I might be able to borrow a tiller, but if I can’t, I might be able to rent one.  And then, in a year, at max two, I’d have a wonderful crop of berries to sell to my fellow Columbians.  I never said how big I wanted my berry farm to be when I told you all about my dreams.  My backyard would be a start, and starts are all dreams need.

1.  I am still jobless.
2.  I am working on a very long post about a trip I had to a Chinese hospital.
3.  During my spare time, which happens to be a lot, I’ve been taking out all of my frustration by killing people playing a game called Battlefield 2142.  I’m actually not that bad.
4.  I’m about to leave the house and go Dork for a few hours.  For those of you who don’t know, Dork is my code word for playing DnD.  And for those of you who don’t know what DnD means – well, you may be better off.  My Mom tells me it has something to do with worshiping Satan or something like that. 
5.  I was actually offered a part time, $20 an hour job, but the contract they wanted me to sign was so wickety wack that I had to politely turn them down.  They of course weren’t very happy.  They said a lot of mean things to me in their nicest tone, and it was then that I realized I made a very good decision. 
6.  My kitty, Morgan Rose Ireland Yvette DeWitter, is giving me that look, so I better go feed her before she attempts to eat my soul or something again.  Last time, I barely survived.

As a little girl, I had your typical girl dreams.  I wanted to be a princess, a magical enchantress, and super fabulous hero with a secret identity – all of which were inspired by She-ra, quite possibly my favorite cartoon of all time.   Who am I kidding – it is.  She-ra may not have been your typical wand wielding wizard, but she could talk to animals, heal the dying, and her sword could do all sorts of neat sparkly stuff.  I mean, her sword could freaking turn her horse into a unicorn with wings!  That’s pretty magical if you ask me.  I haven’t exactly abandoned these dreams.  I’m still hoping that something really amazing will happen and one day I’ll wake up, own a kingdom, be able to cast fireballs from my finger tips, and be known and loved by millions as, I don’t know, Babe-a-realla!

Until that day comes though, there are a few other dreams I’d like to tackle.  They are a bit more reasonable and sorta reside in the realm of possibilities . . . at least two of the three do, anyway.  Hey, as Meatloaf says, “Two out of three ain’t bad.”

My dream is to own a farm, but not just any farm.

On this farm, Cillian Murphy will be my farm boy – Princess Bride style.
“Farm boy, will you fetch me that . . . pitcher?”
“As you wish.”

I will have a herd of billy goats.  They will mow my grass.  And Cillian will milk them.
“Milk that goat for me, farm boy.”
“As you wish.”

And on this farm, I will have acres and acres of berries.
All sorts of berries.
Blackberries.  Raspberries.  Blueberries.
I’ll bake pies and Cillian will sell them to all the local folk – all the while saying,
“As you wish.”

It’s my birthday today.
I’m 26.
I’m jobless.
Can you imagine what my wish will be when I blow out my candles on my cake?

There are few candles missing on my jpeg cake.

Today is also Cookie Monster’s birthday.
I don’t know how old he is.
My old Sesame Street calendar only tells me the date – not the year.
I imagine that he is a wee bit older than myself.
For the record, he is my favorite Sesame Street character and
I know he could beat up that little red twerp, Elmo, with his hands tied behind his back.

The coolest blue dude in the entire universe.

And for those of you who did not know – today is also the Day of the Dead(Día de los Muertos).  I guess if you can’t be born on Halloween, this is the next best day.  If you want to read more about this holiday click here.  I’d like to go down to Mexico and participate one year.  I think it would be a very interesting experience to say the least.

Day of the Dead Cat

For my birthday, I am going to veg at Phil’s parent’s lake house, where I will fish(catch and release – I know, what’s the point?) and watch She-ra until I believe that I am He-man’s twin sister and start screaming “For the honor of Greyskull!”.  She-ra was awesome.  One of these days I’m going to buy a wig and prance around town as She-ra for Halloween.

How many girls out there wanted to be She-ra when they grew up?
I know at least one.

Very slowly, I have been reading Contact by Carl Sagan.  I started it way back in the days of Shenyang and wasn’t able to finish before I left China for a multitude of reasons.  I’ve only now managed to get past the midway point.  I know, I’m pathetic.  : )  I’ve been enjoying it, it’s just that I have had a lot of things on my to-do-list lately – being social, searching for jobs, managing my family tree, and studying for the Praxis subject test to name a few.  Anyway, while reading it, I’ve come across several quotes that I’ve liked. The most recent one is a bit dark and pessimistic, but it made a lot of sense to me when I read it at two something in the morning and I thought I would share it. 

If you don’t have time to read the book, you should check out the movie.  For the most part, so far, they aren’t that different.  The only thing you’d miss in the movie is the depth of emotion, a few dozen characters, including a female president(I think) and huge discussion of whether or not they should build the Machine.  The quote below is part of that huge discussion.  I don’t know why, but to me it seems more like an eloquent "Life sucks and then you die" speech than anything else.  Perhaps that is why I liked it so much.

"[D]on’t you understand?" A vein in Lunacharsky’s neck throbbed.  "I’m amazed you don’t see it.  The Earth is a  . . . ghetto.  Yes, a ghetto.  All human beings are trapped here.  We have heard vaguely  that there are big cities out there beyond the ghetto, with broad boulevards filled with droshkys and beautiful perfumed women in furs.  But the cities are too far away, and we are too poor ever to go there, even the richest of us.  Anyway, we know they don’t want us.  That’s why they’ve left us in this pathetic little village in the first place."

I’ve only been home for about three weeks, and I am starting to remember why I left in the first place. The U S of A is wonderful and free, beautiful and clean, but the truth of the matter is that there just aren’t any jobs for English majors that pay what a person really needs to live. By live I mean being able to own a house, pay the bills, and save for what is supposed to be an enjoyable retirement.

So far, in my three weeks of searching, I have discovered that my job options include flipping burgers, working the 3rd shift at the gas station down the street where I possibly could get shot, answering computer questions as a customer service representative at one of the fifteen call centers, waiting hand and foot on a boss as an executive assistant(that’s a fancy term for secretary), and working as a movie extra.

Now before someone screams, “Why don’t you be a teacher?!” – let me tell you why that isn’t as easy as it seems. After talking to about a dozen people or so(11 of which were completely clueless), I was finally told that in order to teach in the backward state of South Carolina I either have to go back to school and get my Masters or start the PACE program that will take 3 years of my life to complete. Going back to school to get my Masters is out of the question. At this moment in my life, you couldn’t pay me to go back to school. In fact, if someone said I had a choice between continuing my education and certain death – I am 99% percent sure that I would choose death. That is how much I flipping hate school. The PACE program is a possibility, but I don’t fully understand it and what all the requirements are. The one thing that I do know is that I would have to take some graduate courses – and well, that requires school and probably several more tests than I even care to think about. Before I decide not to take that route, I will keep that window open, but it isn’t one that I want to crawl through if I can help it.

So far I’ve given my resume to a travel agent. They asked me the typical question of whether I had any travel agent experience and I had to tell them no, but that I had loads of travel experience. The woman that I was talking to gave me a fake smile and said that she would keep my resume on file and if they ever decided to train someone that they would give me a call. That of course translates into: As soon as you walk out of my store, I am going to incinerate your resume and erase your image off the back of my retina. I’ll go back in a few days and double check. I guess anything is possible.

I’ve also applied for 5 random state jobs. I am pretty sure I am qualified for them, but it really depends on who else has applied and if the person scanning through the resumes thinks I’m special or not. I just applied for them today, so I’m sure it will be a while before I hear back from them.

The sad part about all of this is that I have actually had the idea of going back to China to teach English cross my mind. I know that there are probably several legit programs over there that I would actually enjoy participating in, but without a teacher and ESL certificate, the money I would make over there wouldn’t equal an American salary or a enjoyable retirement.

Just what is a girl to do? *sigh*

Well, I guess I will just either A) hope to win the lottery which I don’t have the money to play because I don’t have a job or B) continue to search through the classifieds on Sunday until something screams at me. Until then . . . you’ll just have to listen to me complain. 🙂