Someone-dammit.

I'm in and out of consciousness right now, as I am on some painkillers for my tooth extraction earlier today, but I think I just heard President Obama say he's sending 30K more troops to Viet[Afghanistan]nam.

But then he's pulling everybody outta there in 2011.

Because that makes as much sense as the "surge" and Mission Accomplished.

Shit.

Seen at work

There must've been some kind of Starving Artists Art Show in the area when they purchased the art for my work building. Little wonder these artists were starving.

Seen at work

I've decided to start a new series here on the bloggy: "Seen at Work." The place where I work is filled with strange artwork, odd decorations, inane instructional postings, and other such noteworthy items, and I wouldn't want to be selfish and keep all these sights (and sounds) to myself. Besides, there's no one at my work who would appreciate these things like you would; everyone else just seems to ignore these things. I've decided that Texans, at least the San Antonio variety, are weird and not very observant.

I'm dying to hear your comments, if only to help me decide whether I'm the only one who thinks this shit is strange.

I'll kick the new series off with a double feature.

First, I present this item (rather a common one down here in San Antonio, I've noticed), found in the restrooms:I've seen these before from time to time in other cities in which I've lived, but it seems like every public restroom in San Antonio has these. Do they really protect you from anything, besides the knowledge that unless you use them, you're placing your bare buttocks on the exact same surface that lots of other people do? (If you think about that for even a second, you just might start carrying a box of these around with you.)

I keep wondering if they protect one from the errant herpes sore or something. Maybe I'm just being obtuse; any public health officials want to share? My mom always told us to lay triple thicknesses of TP on the seat before using a public toilet, but these things are really thin!

Now, OF COURSE I use them whenever I use the restroom, though I always rip the inner circle loose so I don't make splashy sounds.... You know what I'm talking about. But really--do they protect you from anything?

Next, in the "Art" category:I posted this horror on my birdy blog yesterday and so far, all the commenters have ignored it. I trust you guys will find the words that must've escaped my bird-loving pals. I call this one "My child has terrifying hallucinations, and sometimes he commits them to paper."

In the coming days, you'll see more photos of the "art" from my building; there must've been a sale at the local sanitarium or detox ward.

Sick of swine flu

It's a bit late in the game to be bitching about the media furor over the H1N1 (or Hee-nee, as my mom calls it, as though the 1s are really Is) flu, but I've been out of blogulation for a while, and I saw something today that just stuck in my craw. Picture a giant electronic-lighted billboard flashing the following:

TOWN HALL MEETING: H1N1 VIRUS AND VACCINE INFORMATION!

Because that's what we need a town hall meeting on: the effing H1N1 virus. Yeah. Not any of those other things like that bid for the nuke facility here in town, the bid that's increased by millions of dollars lately, and that got a couple of board members canned for influence peddling. Not that. And not the fact that healthcare's in the toilet and Congress is screwing us over even more about it. Nope. Not even the dearth of jobs vs. the ridiculously high number of people applying for each and every one of them. Why's that important?

Nope, we're having a town hall meeting about that dumb flu vaccine. Even though regular flu viruses kill more people each year than H1N1. And even though the vaccine probably doesn't even work.

Sheesh.

I was at Tengrain's blog a little while ago and started laughing my ass off while watching A Flock of Seagulls' "Wishing," which I thought was an AMAZING song when I was in high school/early college. The lyrics are awful, but the music is okay; the video is probably in the same league as other 80s high-larious classics like Asia's "Heat of the Moment" and Scandal's "The Warrior."

While I was hunting down those gems on the yootoobs, I came across one of my all-time favorite songs, The Specials' "A Message to You, Rudy." Go forth and enjoy!

Hey folks!

I've now been in San Antonio for a month. I'm enjoying my temp job; it's interesting and the people are nice--not to mention the fact that it's nice to have an income again. Still looking for a real permanent job too.

I haven't had a whole lot of time to access all your blogs lately; I have to use my dad's computer for my online fun, and I can only get online after work--in between helping my mom cook dinner, giving Niblet some lovin', and talking to AB back in Pennsylvania. Oh, how I miss being able to blog at work!

So don't take my absence personally. I still love and miss you all, in case you were wondering.

I haven't been keeping up with the news either. I keep hearing about how the economy's improving and San Antonio's the third-most recession-proof job market in the country, but I'm still looking for mine. The dearth of posts will likely continue until I figure out where I'm going and how I'll get there.

Hello, I'm alive, and I'm employed...

...at least temporarily!

Sorry for the long vacation away from the blog, but I've been trying to find work, focus on the birds, and learn how to live with my parents again after 27 years out of their house. Thank you all so much for your kind comments and for coming back to the old bloggy. I don't know how much I'll be doing on this blog; politics has just become incredibly frustrating and joy-sucking.

The cool thing is living with two hard-core democrats like my Mom and Pop. We now take turns yelling at the TV talking heads; it's so cool to hear them say a lot of what all of us have been saying all these years! Who knew there were still a few hardy dems in Texas, other than those Texans on my blogroll!?

I've been here about two weeks now. I've applied for a bunch of interesting jobs--marketing, sales, administrative assistant, etc.--but I finally got a hit when I went to (of all places) the same temp agency I registered with in California. I'll be working in a call center resolving something or other at a certain huge national/world banking center. It's outbound calls, but at least I won't be selling anything. And at least I'll be making some money for a while; it's a temp appointment that'll last until sometime before Thanksgiving.

Meanwhile, I'll keep plugging away, trying to get a "real" job, hoping someone likes my resume enough to give me a call.

Again, thanks so much for your support during my "migration" around the country.

Plans

And so it has come to this: if I can't get a job (or at least a promising interview) before the end of the month, I have to leave California.

It's not the ideal plan, I'll admit. Many people tell me that it often takes months to find work, especially out here in budget-wrecked California, but any fool could see that staying out here much longer is financially unwise. I've never been without work for so long at one stretch, at least not while trying to find work. It seems that things here in the Golden State are tougher than I imagined and while, as they say, "hindsight's 20/20," I am beginning to think that my desire for new lifebirds and greener pastures blinded me to just how easy I had it in PA and how long my savings (and loans) would last.

Yes, I was tired of the Pennsylvania snow.

And yes, I wanted to go someplace I'd always dreamed of living.

And oh sure, I felt like I didn't really "belong" in a state like Pennsylvania, where I was perhaps one of maybe ten hispanics in Centre County (I'm being generous; I only knew of me and my friend Ignacio) and where I'd only gone because of a now-defunct relationship.


AB keeps telling me that I can't look back now and judge my decisionmaking after it's turned out to be a total dud; if that were possible (or wise), no one would ever take a chance on anything. Or even get out of bed. But it's hard not to think about the fact that if I'd stayed, I'd still have a good job and I'd be with my girlfriend.

Must. Not. Think. About. That.


So where will I go, you ask? One of two places: Texas or Pennsylvania. BUT... the only way I can go back to PA is if I already have a job waiting for me.
...What, you think I didn't learn a lesson from this whole "Hey, I'm sure I'll find a job in a state where everyone's being laid off! Great idea!" fiasco?


I am furiously looking for work now through the same crap job-seeker engines (Monster, CareerBuilder, SnagAJob, etc.) that have failed to net me more than one interview out here in sunny NoCal. Don't think I've missed the irony of such a situation. At least The University has its own job Web site, though there's no telling the snail's pace at which The University might travel.
(Okay, okay, Mr. Unnecessary-capital-letter-policeman, I'm only capping "the university" out of respect! ...well, and a little karmic finger-crossing. Shhh.)

I know two weeks isn't a lot of time to find work anywhere, but this is the plan I worked out with my sainted father and brother, who are loaning me yet more money to pay the really late bills and buy food and stuff.

Yes, I'm 45 and still getting bailed out by my father. Perhaps I should run for president. I hear this kind of thing worked out great for the last guy.

I'm still trying to follow up on my California applications and apply for other positions, but at this point it's almost stupid to keep trying. I lost count after 60 of how many jobs I'd applied for, but I did get one interview (on my birthday, no less) that was going really well until they told me that although they loved my skills and experience, they didn't know when they'd be able to make an offer, much less hire me. Budget problems. Low sales. Downward trends. You get the picture. (I should've remembered that the last time I had a good birthday, I was in 9th grade and my dad was picking up all my little geeky friends and taking us to SkateLand for a big night of rollerskating to "Dancing Queen." It's like a curse, my birthday. Every stinkin' year.)

At any rate, AB is being really supportive, and we're both hoping that I can at least go back to PA and be with her. But again, I can't go there without a job, so I'll continue to hit the Interwebs super hard over the next week or so. This whole job-search is like a job in itself, a really boring one where I'm forced to write cover letter after cover letter, tailored to the specific job duties and my overwhelming ambition to work at Company X!, and fill out endless job-search-engine registration forms. I've gotten it down to a science, copying and pasting stuff into the blanks, but it's still mind-numbingly boring and soul-crushing.

The other night I couldn't sleep and decided to read a book I hadn't read before (those who know me know that I LOVE to re-read my favorite books, especially when I can't sleep). I noticed a book I'd gotten at a recent book sale, Barbara Ehrenreich's Bait and Switch, in which she "goes undercover" again, this time not as a minimum-wage worker (Nickel and Dimed) but as a middle-management-type white-collar jobseeker, applying for hundreds of jobs over the course of six months, paying for an image consultant, enduring life-coaching from several rather life-challenged individuals, attending endless "networking events," and ending up with nothing -- not even one interview.

Given my circumstances and my now quite fragile job-seeker self-esteem, reading this particular book might, just might!, have been a bad idea.

Table for Sisyphus, party of one! Table for Sisyphus!

I've really enjoyed California. It's beautiful, for one thing--you should check out the pics on my birdy blog--and I've gotten lots of new birds for my lifelist. (If you know what that is, you might be a geek.) The weather is lovely. But it's hard to enjoy the beauty when you know you have no job, no income, and not much hope.

- - - - - - -
On a lighter note, I'm excited to report that I'll be driving into Oakland on Sunday to visit Matty Boy. We're planning to bird at Lake Merritt and then go watch the Cowboys game. I'm totally pumped!

Eat your hearts out, bloggy gals!

Oh, I just thought of something: I haven't told him this bit of news yet, so if you're reading this post, Matty Boy, I'll give you more details on Sunday.

Meanwhile, if anyone knows of a job in the Rohnert Park area... anyone? anyone?