Because I Can Totally Rock The Plaid

Or, more correctly, the tartan. I want to move to Scotland. I found this BBCAmerica show on PBS on Sunday nights called Monarch of the Glen and now I'm in love with the idea of moving to Scotland. The show involves a dishy young man being called home from London to Glenbogle to run the family estate. It involves a lot of lovely scenery and wonderful Scottish and British accents. Also, like I said, the main character is quite attractive. Imagine a Scottish John Cusack. If that is your cup of tea. It is most definitely mine.

So now my wildest fantasies involve being located by some sort of official and inheriting, through one of the Scottish lines on either side of my genealogy, some sort of lovely estate. Of course there would at first be a lot of issues with the locals, because I would be seen as an interloper, from America no less. But I would of course win them over with my lovely personality and willingness to adapt to local customs and what not. And of course at some point there would be a dashing dark-haired Scot to sweep me off my feet. Also, don't you think the Scottish countryside would be an excellent place to write novels? Think of the inspiration. Or, homesickness could inspire me to write a brilliant ode to my homeland. See, I think this could be the answer to all my problems.

And when Miss Parker read this, I will be forever banned from watching BBCAmerica or PBS ever again.

Sting Is Dead To Me

I never really thought I would say such a thing because a) I like his music and b) he seems like a genuinely nice and socially conscious individual. But it can't be coincidence that on Saturday, when my alarm went off, interrupting a dream in which I was on a date with my #1 Comedic TV Boyfriend Jim Halpert, it was a Sting song. A Sting song was also on the radio last Monday when my alarm went off, interrupting a dream in which I was flying with my #1 Dramatic TV Boyfriend Dean Winchester. Coincidence? I think not. Therefore, Sting is Dead To Me. As is whatever station my radio was set on those mornings. Because I have enough bad news these days, I could use a few more TV Boyfriend populated dreams.

I did hear back from the firm I interviewed with and while I didn't get the position, they did say they were impressed with my interview and that they would keep my resume on file if anything else came up. Which could be what they tell everyone, but it did make me feel pretty zen about the whole situation. In fact I'm pretty zen about my life right now. It could be that a continued lack of sleep has robbed me of my senses (Insomnia is mean, people!) or a preternatural apathy about work in the first place, but I'm not nearly a stressed as I thought I would be. In fact it has been kind of nice to have time to read book for hours or do research for my planned novel or just walk around downtown and people watch. I guess I was far more miserable at my old job than I thought.

So even though I am actually enjoying the free time that goes with being unemployed, I must get back to the thirty job ads I emailed myself last night. Or maybe I'll have words with my alarm clock. It can't be interrupting my best dreams like that.

Movie Rec

I recommend that you readers go and see The Illusionist if it is in a theater near you. It is one of the most visually stunning films I've seen in a while. I don't want to say much about it for fear of giving plot points away, but go and see it. It is worth the $7.

Statistics

Since I haven't any job to complain about or crazy stories to tell about a boss, I thought I would share some random statistics of my past two weeks.

Days Out of Bed Before 10AM - 1
Resumes Submitted - 3 or 29 or 57. I've kind of lost count.
Hours Spent Watching M*A*S*H Reruns - 27
Interviews - 1
Cell phone minutes wasted talking old office through things - 52
Temper tantrums thrown - 3 (the latest being when I called the old office about my severance and a nice girl named Megan answered the phone. Apparently they needed an administrative assistant they could pay $8 an hour.)
Days spent wandering to Sam Weller's Books on Main Street to drool over old books I can't afford - 3
2nd Interviews - 1 (tomorrow yay!)
Vampire dreams - 2
Flying dreams - 1 (haven't had one of these since I was in grade school - they are awesome! Basically, I can fly. Good times.)

Anyway, thanks for all your thoughts and good wishes. I really feel good about this second interview tomorrow and from what was said at the first interview, if all things go well, I could be employed next week. So fingers crossed people!

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

So the past few weeks have been crazy. I was laid off from a job I hated, temporarily transferred to the Seattle office for two weeks to see if I would hate the job as intensely in a different location, and then shipped back here to figure out what I wanted to do with the rest of my life and how to support myself in the meantime. So here is the good, the bad, and the ugly of the whole experience.

The Good

• I drove to my parents’ home both weekends I was in Seattle and got to spend some quality time with them. Also, there is nothing like the ego boost of going back to a place where people think you are great.
• I realized that I hate my job regardless of location and really feel great about not ever going back to work for that company.
• Despite the stress of the whole experience, I’ve never been happier than I was today when I realized I would never again have to wake up to that job.
• Severance packages are like having paid vacations.

The Bad

• One should never have to live in a hotel for two weeks. I don’t care if it is a studio with a kitchen.
• Everyone was going on about the heat wave in Seattle. It was 75 degrees. I was wearing sweaters and shivering while everyone else was blasting the A/C. I even turned on the heat in my hotel room.
• Because of the short notice under which my flight arrangements were made my itinerary went something like this: Salt Lake – San Francisco – Seattle – Denver – Salt Lake
• Almost bursting into tears in the San Francisco airport after realizing that exactly seven years ago to the day I had been sitting in the same airport on the way to London.
• Salt Lake Int’l Airport experienced horrible weather and a major technological meltdown on the day I flew back, which delayed my flight from Denver for two hours, messed up the baggage claim system to the point that bags from multiple flights were on different carousels meaning that it took me an hour and a half to figure out my luggage wasn’t on any of them, and caused a 30 minute wait to pay for parking.
• My luggage was left in Denver and didn’t arrive until 12:30pm the next day.

The Ugly

• The branch manager of the Seattle branch suffers from short term memory loss due to a car accident earlier this summer. Which caused him to tell me the following stories on a daily basis:
• How he has short-term memory problems because of a car accident earlier this summer.
• How he is suing his contractor because the contractor didn’t weather-proof the foundation and he now has a virulent mold problem.
• How he teaches classes for his church and is “just trying to live by faith.

• Mr. Short-Term Memory, despite the above protestation of religiosity, had a tendencey to drop the F-bomb on a regular basis, especially when telling stories or really, really stupid jokes at which I was forced, out of politeness, to smile.
• Mr. Short-Term Memory also suffered from over-sharing. I know more about his past relationships, his musical preferences, his dog ownership, and his church-going than I knew about anyone I had worked with for 2+ years in the Salt Lake office.
• I got the eerie feeling, despite the inappropriateness of it, that I was being auditioned for not only the administrative assistant position, but for a dating possibility as well. Examples:
• His constant questioning about what I do in my spare time, what music I like, and my opinions on other pop culture things.
• His enthusiasm for playing Death Cab for Cutie over and over on a daily basis after I reluctantly admitted to liking them.
• The performance of what can only be described as a ‘butt shimmy’ while singing along to the Death Cab for Cutie song that was blaring from his iTunes in front of my desk on his way to the conference room.
• His repeatedly asking me if I had a boyfriend, which was confusing since he kept referring to my roommate as “your girlfrie – I mean roommate.” Either way, I wasn’t going to admit to being single.
• His semi-frequent assertion that he knew what I was going through because "I'm also a single person trying to live by faith."
  

So now you are all caught up on the happenings of the last few weeks I’ve been MIA. I’ll keep you updated on the job search front, but for now I think I’ll spend the week enjoying a paid vacation.