Somehow I just deleted all of the pictures on my camera. Tomorrow, I am going to go to go to Best Buy and complain until they give me a new camera. God bless America.
Since I lost all of my pictures, this post isn't going to be as awesome as it should. Eventually, pictures will get posted on some type of social media outlet, and they will be uploaded onto here so that my Hungarian stalkers can continue to mock and deride my famazing costumes. (Seriously, they are awesome. Break the mould, Hungary. Break. It.)
After purchasing a metric fuck ton of food for myself, I decided that my spinach needed some company and that I should invite some people over for a recession themed party. I went as a gold-digger, and I thought that my shit was hilarious. Everyone else went as white trash. (Is it weird that when I think of recession, I think of high class nouvea riche people and not po folk? Hmm. Weirdness.)
The party was fun.
Someone brought their baby.
I have friends with babies who are professionals.
Holy fuck, I'm old.
Anyway, the entire plan was to go to the club afterwards in costume (one of my favorite things, especially when someone is trannied up.) However, I was drunk cooking all-day and by the time 11:00 PM rolled around, half a bottle of tequilla was gone and I was ripping off gold jewelry in my bedroom.
At 2 AM, I hear a pounding on my door. A get-out-of-the-house-shit-be-goin'-down pounding. I remember (vaguely) that my roommate had gone to the club and I was convinced that she locked herself out and was stone-cold drunk.
Because I was drunk, I was naturally sleeping in my underwear and my underwear happened to be the most European pair I have. (read: french cut for tanning purposes.) I was super pissed off that someone awoke my drunken slumber and just wouldn't shut up, so I stormed to the front door in my underwear.
The roommate was not there.
A random from the house party was.
With two other randoms that I didn't know.
This would have been super confusing sober, it was exceptionally confusing bleary-eyed from sleep and cheap tequila.
As I stared at the Rando, I remembered his name and asked him what he was doing here. Before he could answer, the two randoms jump in.
"We found your friend on the street..."
"He said that he got hit in the head with a baseball bat."
"We didn't find any bruises."
"And there's not blood."
"We told him he got drugged."
"He totally got drugged at the club."
"But, we brought him here because he knew you."
"Can we get twenty bucks for bringing him here?"
"You know, like as a finder's fee?"
This would have been super confusing sober, it was exceptionally confusing bleary-eyed from sleep and cheap tequila.
I responded, "no." Then, I grabbed said Rando and politely (but firmly) slammed the door in the two finder-fee-fuckers' faces. When I asked him what happened, it was clear that homeboy was only speaking Drunk-ese for the rest of the evening, so I directed him to the bathroom and then proceeded to call my friends that knew Rando better than I did.
As the sounds of vomit hitting the toilet greeted my ears and nostrils, I started to make calls outside to my friends. As I was outside calling, I hear the finder-fee-fucker girl calling up to me.
"Hey you! YOU! YOU! Boy in the underwear."
(I assume it's me and look down)
"Hey, I like your chest hair. Want to go out on a date sometime?"
I don't ever get asked out, but uhm..you know, I just find that to be a little too hooker-y for my taste, especially after I was asked for money three minutes ago.
My response: "If you find me on google, sure thing." (was that a weird thing to say? it seemed normal.)
Eventually I get through to someone who knows Rando a bit better than I do, and I go to pick up the Rando Keeper for the night. I reunite Rando with Keeper and all is right in the world.
Well, everything except that chest-hair loving lady never called me back. Can't win 'em all.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Welfare Chronicles: The Wal-Mart Trip
I was watching the Colbert Report yesterday, and the Heritage Foundation recently released a report that discussed the luxurious life of poor in America. Why? Well America's poor got all those fancy things, like a refrigerator AND a microwave. Holy shit. Both? American poor, you are the reason why there is financial gridlock in the world.
Don't get me wrong, there are people that abuse the social system. But, after two weeks of working on labor issues, the more passionate I am about this problem. This NYTimes article documents the difficulty of unemployed trying to find a job, because they are actively (and obviously) discriminated against in the job search.
Here's the kicker. We just hired the woman who is featured in the article to be one of our field organizers. But, she had been unemployed for nearly three years, and basically had her entire life destroyed. (Who saves up for three years?) She is absolutely amazing, and I really value the fact that I am working with her and that she is courageously sharing her story.
Thus, I get kind of pissed when people want to cut funds for social assistance for working families. For the most part, it's just some temporary assistance (exactly what it is for me. It runs out for me on 9/01/2011), and to be honest...it's not easy to get and even less fun to have to go through the whole process.
So, even though I have a masters, won the Fulbright, worked for the UN, and even taught mathematics in the middle east.....what did I do with my food stamps?
I spent all of them.
In one day.
Err...actually like 2 hours.
And uhm....actually I went over the food stamp amount.
I literally became a poor person stereotype in one solid trip to Wal-Mart.
You can take the boy outta Beaver County, but you can never take the Beaver County outta the boy. However, look at all those tasty, tasty vegetables. Colorado has changed me.
My conversation with the 16 year old acne covered kid checking me out at Wal-Mart:
And with all my fancy food, I did the other next poor stereotypical thing...and invited all my friends over for a party. A recession themed party. Only fitting, right? Yinzer, please.
Don't get me wrong, there are people that abuse the social system. But, after two weeks of working on labor issues, the more passionate I am about this problem. This NYTimes article documents the difficulty of unemployed trying to find a job, because they are actively (and obviously) discriminated against in the job search.
Here's the kicker. We just hired the woman who is featured in the article to be one of our field organizers. But, she had been unemployed for nearly three years, and basically had her entire life destroyed. (Who saves up for three years?) She is absolutely amazing, and I really value the fact that I am working with her and that she is courageously sharing her story.
Thus, I get kind of pissed when people want to cut funds for social assistance for working families. For the most part, it's just some temporary assistance (exactly what it is for me. It runs out for me on 9/01/2011), and to be honest...it's not easy to get and even less fun to have to go through the whole process.
So, even though I have a masters, won the Fulbright, worked for the UN, and even taught mathematics in the middle east.....what did I do with my food stamps?
I spent all of them.
In one day.
Err...actually like 2 hours.
And uhm....actually I went over the food stamp amount.
I literally became a poor person stereotype in one solid trip to Wal-Mart.
You can take the boy outta Beaver County, but you can never take the Beaver County outta the boy. However, look at all those tasty, tasty vegetables. Colorado has changed me.
My conversation with the 16 year old acne covered kid checking me out at Wal-Mart:
Him: "Your food stamps didn't go through."
Me: "Oh. So, what do I do?"
Him: "You were off by $110."
Me: "Oh. uhm....so what do I do?"
Him: "Didn't you realize how much stuff you were buying?"
Me *looking at organic vegetables and protein powder* "Ugh....can I pay with charge?"
Him: "Yeah. I'll just charge you the maximum food stamp amount, and then you can pay for the rest."
Me: "Gee, thanks." Dick.
Him: "Yeah, it happens all the time."
Me: "Great." If it happens all the time, why did you pressure me about my math skills? I was an English teacher for fuck's sake.
And with all my fancy food, I did the other next poor stereotypical thing...and invited all my friends over for a party. A recession themed party. Only fitting, right? Yinzer, please.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Welfare Chronicles: The Application
This yinzer has a dirty little secret: I am flat-ass broke. My Dad might argue that I'm so broke that I can't even pay attention. I might argue that I'm too broke to pay for my overly high rent. (But, honestly shouldn't every apartment come with a pool, huge gym, and free tanning beds? Or is that a bit too luxurious for a first year professional salary?)
Because I won't be getting a paycheck until August 5h, I was a little bit desperate. My father is super awesome and totally gave me money, uhm....lots of it. Far too much. Basically, I forced my Dad to turn into Daddy Warbucks and pay for my entire life this summer. And G-d knows, my life ain't cheap.
Anywho, in my panic, I contacted one of my friends and I was lamenting about how I had no money for food and even less desire to contact my Dad and ask for more money. Their response was, "Dude, just go on foodstamps."
I'm sorry, do you hear angels singing? Is that a possibility?
Before, I committed to signing up for food stamps, I made a strong screwdriver. For some reason, I was super embarassed about even filling out the paperwork. Three drinks in (which equated to half a bottle of Vladdy), I realized that the orange juice was pretty much all I had to eat for the week. And that shit was gone.
While awesome for my weight loss plan, it wasn't the best option for me as a grown-ass man. I entered my information into the Colorado PEAK system, and they told me that I qualified for food stamps. Now. Right now.
On the one hand, it was awesome to know that I was going to get to eat. On the other hand, it totally validated that I was poor. Which, you know, kind of sucks.
The next morning, I got a call to set up an appointment to interview for the food stamps. Apparently, you have to interview for these suckers? The fucking Internet was a total food cock-tease.
I didn't know what was expected for the food stamp meeting, so I got super dressed up like I was on a business interview. For some reason, the only clothes that I have to interview in are ridiculously overpriced and super designer-y. Don't get me wrong, a lot of that shit is from Goodwill or some random thrift store...but...uh....it's still Dior, Gucci and a little Louis. I mean, fake it 'til you make it, right?
So, wearing $1,000 worth of clothes and with my backpack that is way more than I have in my checking/saving/life, I strolled into the welfare office.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
I was overdressed. And overly-hygienic. The only under I was, was under-tattooed. Specifically in the neck region.
Don't get me wrong, I was still applying for food assistance...and I was way under the minimum wage. So, I was in the exact boat as all of these people. Except, my boat was silver lined. And had a strong breeze. And a motor. And mimosas. Okay, maybe I wasn't in the exact same boat, but we could see each other in the ocean.
I went in for my interview and the woman just stared at me blankly, especially when I gave her a copy of my resume. (Apparently, that's not needed during a food stamp interview.) In my type-A-get-a-job mindset, I kept selling myself...hard... during the interview.
"Yes, well, I'm currently unemployed....but, I have a great deal of academic and occupational experience. I firmly believe that I will be able to contribute to Denver. Just not...uhm...now?"
The woman stared at me blankly and replied with a, "Just give me your lease and passport."
Thirty five minutes later, I left the office and was the proud recipient of $174.35 of food aid. Hallelujah.
For some reason, even though I had the card, I didn't think that it would work. So, at midnight, I went to my local grocery store and found some yogurt. I went to the self-check-out...you know, in case the card didn't work and I had to be embarrassed that my welfare didn't go through.
It. Did.
I honestly think, in all sincerity, that buying that yogurt with welfare money after weeks of stressing out about food was the happiest I had ever been. Fucking yogurt; who would have thought you would give me such joy in the Mile High City?
Because I won't be getting a paycheck until August 5h, I was a little bit desperate. My father is super awesome and totally gave me money, uhm....lots of it. Far too much. Basically, I forced my Dad to turn into Daddy Warbucks and pay for my entire life this summer. And G-d knows, my life ain't cheap.
Anywho, in my panic, I contacted one of my friends and I was lamenting about how I had no money for food and even less desire to contact my Dad and ask for more money. Their response was, "Dude, just go on foodstamps."
I'm sorry, do you hear angels singing? Is that a possibility?
Before, I committed to signing up for food stamps, I made a strong screwdriver. For some reason, I was super embarassed about even filling out the paperwork. Three drinks in (which equated to half a bottle of Vladdy), I realized that the orange juice was pretty much all I had to eat for the week. And that shit was gone.
While awesome for my weight loss plan, it wasn't the best option for me as a grown-ass man. I entered my information into the Colorado PEAK system, and they told me that I qualified for food stamps. Now. Right now.
On the one hand, it was awesome to know that I was going to get to eat. On the other hand, it totally validated that I was poor. Which, you know, kind of sucks.
The next morning, I got a call to set up an appointment to interview for the food stamps. Apparently, you have to interview for these suckers? The fucking Internet was a total food cock-tease.
I didn't know what was expected for the food stamp meeting, so I got super dressed up like I was on a business interview. For some reason, the only clothes that I have to interview in are ridiculously overpriced and super designer-y. Don't get me wrong, a lot of that shit is from Goodwill or some random thrift store...but...uh....it's still Dior, Gucci and a little Louis. I mean, fake it 'til you make it, right?
So, wearing $1,000 worth of clothes and with my backpack that is way more than I have in my checking/saving/life, I strolled into the welfare office.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
I was overdressed. And overly-hygienic. The only under I was, was under-tattooed. Specifically in the neck region.
Don't get me wrong, I was still applying for food assistance...and I was way under the minimum wage. So, I was in the exact boat as all of these people. Except, my boat was silver lined. And had a strong breeze. And a motor. And mimosas. Okay, maybe I wasn't in the exact same boat, but we could see each other in the ocean.
I went in for my interview and the woman just stared at me blankly, especially when I gave her a copy of my resume. (Apparently, that's not needed during a food stamp interview.) In my type-A-get-a-job mindset, I kept selling myself...hard... during the interview.
"Yes, well, I'm currently unemployed....but, I have a great deal of academic and occupational experience. I firmly believe that I will be able to contribute to Denver. Just not...uhm...now?"
The woman stared at me blankly and replied with a, "Just give me your lease and passport."
Thirty five minutes later, I left the office and was the proud recipient of $174.35 of food aid. Hallelujah.
For some reason, even though I had the card, I didn't think that it would work. So, at midnight, I went to my local grocery store and found some yogurt. I went to the self-check-out...you know, in case the card didn't work and I had to be embarrassed that my welfare didn't go through.
It. Did.
I honestly think, in all sincerity, that buying that yogurt with welfare money after weeks of stressing out about food was the happiest I had ever been. Fucking yogurt; who would have thought you would give me such joy in the Mile High City?
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Confessions of a Retired Teacher
Much like Conan O'Brien, I was forced into early retirement. Unlike Conan, my shit was on point. I've embarked on a new career now, and I'm becoming more and more okay with it. It's really strange though to not be in front of a classroom leading others. It's even more strange to be in front of a computer and doing conference calls. For some reason, it makes work feel a lot more like work. Don't get me wrong, my office is super nice and it is amazing to not have homework, but it's still a bit strange.
Anywho, since I'm retired I thought I would make a list of things that I would miss this upcoming year:
Making the poster and developing a classroom culture.
For me, I actually loved drinking a bottle of wine and making posters for my classroom on a Thursday or Friday night. Is that lame? Fuck yeah, but I'm totally okay with it. Plus, little kids love every poster you make. Even if they look shitty like these ones.
The epic amount of teaching shit I have:
Seriously, I bought so much fucking shit over the years. As an economist, I know to ignore sunk costs. But, MOTHER FUCKER this sucks.
Examples of student learning and differentiated instruction:
I was pretty awesome at breaking complex ideas into manageable chunks and telling students what the salient point is. Above are some of my examples that taught my students their future grade level standard about greater than/less than.
My students:
To be honest, I loved developing a classroom culture, but only because I kicked ass at it. Little kids loved me, and I loved being a positive male influence. Well, I love developing a culture with little kids. I was challenged a great deal in Hungary, because I never knew what their culture was going to throw at me. Don't get me wrong, my Hungarian students completely surprised me with their openness, foresight, and analytical ability. But, sometimes it was like pulling teeth.....in Eastern Europe.
Things I won't miss:
Homework
Thinking about my students non-stop
Only hanging out with teachers
Grading
Analyzing data
Avoiding frustration with students who just can't process the information
Commuting super far (all of my teaching assignments seemed to be an hour away from me)
Not having money, because you spend it on your students.
Working hard for little respect
Administration
Pointless Meeting
Always Feeling your best isn't good enough
People asking why I am wasting my $250,000 education
Professional Development
I feel better....is that bad?
Anywho, since I'm retired I thought I would make a list of things that I would miss this upcoming year:
Making the poster and developing a classroom culture.
For me, I actually loved drinking a bottle of wine and making posters for my classroom on a Thursday or Friday night. Is that lame? Fuck yeah, but I'm totally okay with it. Plus, little kids love every poster you make. Even if they look shitty like these ones.
The epic amount of teaching shit I have:
Seriously, I bought so much fucking shit over the years. As an economist, I know to ignore sunk costs. But, MOTHER FUCKER this sucks.
Examples of student learning and differentiated instruction:
I was pretty awesome at breaking complex ideas into manageable chunks and telling students what the salient point is. Above are some of my examples that taught my students their future grade level standard about greater than/less than.
My students:
To be honest, I loved developing a classroom culture, but only because I kicked ass at it. Little kids loved me, and I loved being a positive male influence. Well, I love developing a culture with little kids. I was challenged a great deal in Hungary, because I never knew what their culture was going to throw at me. Don't get me wrong, my Hungarian students completely surprised me with their openness, foresight, and analytical ability. But, sometimes it was like pulling teeth.....in Eastern Europe.
Things I won't miss:
Homework
Thinking about my students non-stop
Only hanging out with teachers
Grading
Analyzing data
Avoiding frustration with students who just can't process the information
Commuting super far (all of my teaching assignments seemed to be an hour away from me)
Not having money, because you spend it on your students.
Working hard for little respect
Administration
Pointless Meeting
Always Feeling your best isn't good enough
People asking why I am wasting my $250,000 education
Professional Development
I feel better....is that bad?
Monday, July 25, 2011
Yinzer Guide: Getting a Job II
Yesterday, I exposed my secrets to getting a job. Why do I get to be on a soap box? I think the main reason is that I am ridiculously conceited. Well, there's that and I feel like I have way too much tacit knowledge about job hunting. After working as an academic advisor for a year and currently being on the hiring end of a company, I feel like I have a general semblance of what is expected in the job hunt. And for the sake of all that is good and holy, try a few of them.
4.) Read the job announcement.
You would think that I wouldn't have to say this one....but, I do. Basically do your best to tailor your interview experiences and cover letter to what is expected. If the position is supposed to be analytical, then have some analytical shit to talk about.
5.) Never say the following:
"Well, I'm desperate. I've been unemployed for...."
"I really want the money."
"I have to contact 5 businesses to stay on unemployment."
"What's your policy on drug use?"
These are all things I have heard when interviewing people this week. My favorite response as to why someone wants the job, which I'm unsure if it was the best or worst thing I have ever heard, was:
"Well, I would be great at this job, because I am ridiculously good looking. People want to be my friend, like all the time. I bet I could get them to give me money."
I don't know if he will be able to get money from people, but he did get invited for a second interview. So, god work you ridiculously good looking son of a bitch.
6.) Network.
I hate networking events.
I hate the use of "network" as a verb.
I hate linkedin with all of my heart.
But, the sad fact is: unemployed people with unemployed friends stay unemployed longer. If you are a clever social scientist, as I hope you are, they did account for a lot of other variables, including appearance and education level. Plus, it was in the Economist, so I believe it.
Previously, I was on intellectual auto-fellatio and mentioned that I had numerous job interviews after getting fired. While this was true, it was mainly because I had friends at Google that recommended me for employment, a sister who forwarded my resume to half of her company, and friends who also think that the Denver Teaching Fellows is fucking retarded and helped me land something as quickly as possible. Ultimately, I got this job based on my own merit, but it was nice to have a strong network to bounce ideas off of and talk about things.
7.) Get a masters.
No. Really. Get a masters. The NY Times recently wrote a piece that discussed the ubiquity of masters in the job market. While that may sound shitty, you should know who the hell you are competing against.
Get a masters, get an edge; kick yo face and get the job.
4.) Read the job announcement.
You would think that I wouldn't have to say this one....but, I do. Basically do your best to tailor your interview experiences and cover letter to what is expected. If the position is supposed to be analytical, then have some analytical shit to talk about.
5.) Never say the following:
"Well, I'm desperate. I've been unemployed for...."
"I really want the money."
"I have to contact 5 businesses to stay on unemployment."
"What's your policy on drug use?"
These are all things I have heard when interviewing people this week. My favorite response as to why someone wants the job, which I'm unsure if it was the best or worst thing I have ever heard, was:
"Well, I would be great at this job, because I am ridiculously good looking. People want to be my friend, like all the time. I bet I could get them to give me money."
I don't know if he will be able to get money from people, but he did get invited for a second interview. So, god work you ridiculously good looking son of a bitch.
6.) Network.
I hate networking events.
I hate the use of "network" as a verb.
I hate linkedin with all of my heart.
But, the sad fact is: unemployed people with unemployed friends stay unemployed longer. If you are a clever social scientist, as I hope you are, they did account for a lot of other variables, including appearance and education level. Plus, it was in the Economist, so I believe it.
Previously, I was on intellectual auto-fellatio and mentioned that I had numerous job interviews after getting fired. While this was true, it was mainly because I had friends at Google that recommended me for employment, a sister who forwarded my resume to half of her company, and friends who also think that the Denver Teaching Fellows is fucking retarded and helped me land something as quickly as possible. Ultimately, I got this job based on my own merit, but it was nice to have a strong network to bounce ideas off of and talk about things.
7.) Get a masters.
No. Really. Get a masters. The NY Times recently wrote a piece that discussed the ubiquity of masters in the job market. While that may sound shitty, you should know who the hell you are competing against.
Get a masters, get an edge; kick yo face and get the job.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Yinzer Guide: Getting a Job
I got a job 13 days after I started to look. A job that, one week in, I enjoy. However, for all intents and purposes, I am a hot mess of life. Thus, please enjoy my guide to getting a job, while still being true to your yinzer/train wreck roots.
1.) Brand yourself.
You have to set yourself apart, especially in this job market. For every job posted, six people are actively seeking it. So many people have these awesome skills, but don't market themselves well. How do you get an advantage over the other six people? Through your brand.
This is my brand:
James Harrell III
My blog might not be the best example of branding because it mainly involves me drunk-dancing in costumes. But, my website is pretty legit. In it, I have a resume, awards I won, and links to my life in various facets. Which facets? The ones that I believe best demonstrate my analytic, problem-solving, social, and political capabilities. All of my interviewers have commented on investigating my website to learn more about me and determine my personal interests. Plus, since I get to control my personal branding, it means that I get a foot in the door. And that foot is wearing some damn nice shoes.
2.) Follow up
2a.) Thank you cards
I am obessessed with thank-you cards. I talked about the importance whenever you couch-surf, but it is just as important in the job hunt. Following up should be done the next day and should take several forms.
First and foremost, I like to send a handwritten thank-you note. Why? Because I am the only person in the world that actually does it.
If you don't know how to write a thank-you card, check out this website. It has some samples on it that can guide your work. Remember the main point of the card is to demonstrate your professional etiquette and remind your interviewer of who you are.
2b.) Follow-up E-mails
I always believe that sending a follow-up e-mail is nearly mandated as well, but the e-mail has to have a point. I like to include a work sample so that my employers know what I am thinking about and why I wanted to write them again. Sure, it's important to be thankful, appreciative and remind them of the conversation, but it's also nice to see something tangible. Oh? This position requires Spanish language usage? Here, read one of my papers in Spanish. This position requires heavy use of Excel? Let me show you the database I created using excel.
3.) Have a good resume.
Seriously. Get it together, sug.
Look it over for errors. If you have some designer friends, have them lend an eye to it. Keep a master resume with all of your employment on it and then bring in jobs that are relevant to the field. You would be surprised at the amount of resumes I have seen that are just bad.
Also, keep your resume one fucking page long. Jesus-tap-dancing-christ. The only reason that you should ever have more than one page is if you are a Ph.D. and applying for an academic or research-based job. But, even then, guess what? It's not called a resume, it's called a CV. CVs are great...if that's what I asked for. Resumes are short, pretty to look at, and skim the surface of what you did.
Recruiters look at your resume for about 10 seconds. If your shit ain't poppin' in that ten seconds, well hopefully neither are the other five people applying for that same position.
Alas, this yinzer has got tons of advice and will write a second job guide tomorrow. Get excited.
1.) Brand yourself.
You have to set yourself apart, especially in this job market. For every job posted, six people are actively seeking it. So many people have these awesome skills, but don't market themselves well. How do you get an advantage over the other six people? Through your brand.
This is my brand:
James Harrell III
My blog might not be the best example of branding because it mainly involves me drunk-dancing in costumes. But, my website is pretty legit. In it, I have a resume, awards I won, and links to my life in various facets. Which facets? The ones that I believe best demonstrate my analytic, problem-solving, social, and political capabilities. All of my interviewers have commented on investigating my website to learn more about me and determine my personal interests. Plus, since I get to control my personal branding, it means that I get a foot in the door. And that foot is wearing some damn nice shoes.
2.) Follow up
2a.) Thank you cards
I am obessessed with thank-you cards. I talked about the importance whenever you couch-surf, but it is just as important in the job hunt. Following up should be done the next day and should take several forms.
First and foremost, I like to send a handwritten thank-you note. Why? Because I am the only person in the world that actually does it.
If you don't know how to write a thank-you card, check out this website. It has some samples on it that can guide your work. Remember the main point of the card is to demonstrate your professional etiquette and remind your interviewer of who you are.
2b.) Follow-up E-mails
I always believe that sending a follow-up e-mail is nearly mandated as well, but the e-mail has to have a point. I like to include a work sample so that my employers know what I am thinking about and why I wanted to write them again. Sure, it's important to be thankful, appreciative and remind them of the conversation, but it's also nice to see something tangible. Oh? This position requires Spanish language usage? Here, read one of my papers in Spanish. This position requires heavy use of Excel? Let me show you the database I created using excel.
3.) Have a good resume.
Seriously. Get it together, sug.
Look it over for errors. If you have some designer friends, have them lend an eye to it. Keep a master resume with all of your employment on it and then bring in jobs that are relevant to the field. You would be surprised at the amount of resumes I have seen that are just bad.
Also, keep your resume one fucking page long. Jesus-tap-dancing-christ. The only reason that you should ever have more than one page is if you are a Ph.D. and applying for an academic or research-based job. But, even then, guess what? It's not called a resume, it's called a CV. CVs are great...if that's what I asked for. Resumes are short, pretty to look at, and skim the surface of what you did.
Recruiters look at your resume for about 10 seconds. If your shit ain't poppin' in that ten seconds, well hopefully neither are the other five people applying for that same position.
Alas, this yinzer has got tons of advice and will write a second job guide tomorrow. Get excited.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Getting a Job?
I am currently working for a grassroots NGO that focuses on labor rights and ensuring that all workers have equal rights/fair treatment. It's pretty great, and totally awesome since I was unjustly fired from Denver Teaching Fellows.
To be honest, I'm becoming okay with the situation, but I still wish that I had the resources to take legal action against them. Do I want them to take me back? No. Do I want the $2,000 they owe me? Yes. I also tend to get a little mad whenever I hear that some of my former colleagues are getting fired from their actual schools for not having passed the content exam yet. I thought we were supposed to be the best and brightest? In my opinion, the expectations were not followed in the way that they were advertised. (And I had applied to the program because of these high expectations.) This schism is what makes me most upset, because I was a pretty awesome teacher, but just refused to drink their kool-aid.
Anyway, the day I got fired I also immediately started to apply to jobs and start to work on getting a job. To be honest, I was super worried about finding a job. I remember one of my friends from CMU was unemployed for nearly a year. Uhm....what? Carnegie Mellon alums can be unemployed? Holy shit, the economy IS bad.
But, I got a job (that I like, has a livable salary, and is pretty awesome) in 13 days. How? Read tomorrow to find out.
To be honest, I'm becoming okay with the situation, but I still wish that I had the resources to take legal action against them. Do I want them to take me back? No. Do I want the $2,000 they owe me? Yes. I also tend to get a little mad whenever I hear that some of my former colleagues are getting fired from their actual schools for not having passed the content exam yet. I thought we were supposed to be the best and brightest? In my opinion, the expectations were not followed in the way that they were advertised. (And I had applied to the program because of these high expectations.) This schism is what makes me most upset, because I was a pretty awesome teacher, but just refused to drink their kool-aid.
Anyway, the day I got fired I also immediately started to apply to jobs and start to work on getting a job. To be honest, I was super worried about finding a job. I remember one of my friends from CMU was unemployed for nearly a year. Uhm....what? Carnegie Mellon alums can be unemployed? Holy shit, the economy IS bad.
But, I got a job (that I like, has a livable salary, and is pretty awesome) in 13 days. How? Read tomorrow to find out.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
New Apartment: Denver Edition
I realized in all of the stupid life adjustments that I am currently doing, I never did a proper post about my living conditions.
First and foremost, I am living with Kayla. KK and I met each other in Spain. We didn't live together or spend every weekend together by any means, but we did have the occassional dance party and went to Alicante together. She is super nice and is very much a wholesome farmer's daughter from Oklahoma. I feel bad because I'm already corrupting her. Recently, when describing someone she told me, "James, that's bojanks." Clearly, I am making an impact.
Kayla and I get along pretty well, even better now that I am not being a twatwaffle. She is super well-traveled, better at me in Spanish, loves glitter, and has an affinity for early morning dance pictures. Even better, homegirl rocks the camera, so I never have to take pictures. Woot.
Anyway, a tour of apartment 217:
My Room!
Things to Note: My lack of bed (I'm not buying one) and the fact that it is filled with shit from across the world. Does it reek of being abnormally pretentious and a jackass? I think to really exlempify my douchebaggery, I should have big posters that say "Fulbright" on it.
My Closet:
You have no idea how nice it is to have my clothes all in one place and hanging up. Also, in regards to shoes...that is half of what I have going on. Clearly, America does have it's perks. One of them is that I have awesome parents who hold my shoes for 3 years as I galavant the world, looking for the perfect gyro.
My Living Room:
None of the furniture is mine. We do have a TV (w/ no cable). The cabinet is also full of souvenirs from across the globe. It's tough to see, but my super fancy chess set from Krakow is on perma-set up. Thank you, Papa 'Bama.
My Dining Room:
My Bathroom:
Kayla and I both have our own bathroom. It is awesome. AND my toilet, shower and sink are all in one place!!!!
Proof that I am still a proper yinzer:
God bless dem Stillers.
First and foremost, I am living with Kayla. KK and I met each other in Spain. We didn't live together or spend every weekend together by any means, but we did have the occassional dance party and went to Alicante together. She is super nice and is very much a wholesome farmer's daughter from Oklahoma. I feel bad because I'm already corrupting her. Recently, when describing someone she told me, "James, that's bojanks." Clearly, I am making an impact.
Kayla and I get along pretty well, even better now that I am not being a twatwaffle. She is super well-traveled, better at me in Spanish, loves glitter, and has an affinity for early morning dance pictures. Even better, homegirl rocks the camera, so I never have to take pictures. Woot.
Anyway, a tour of apartment 217:
My Room!
Things to Note: My lack of bed (I'm not buying one) and the fact that it is filled with shit from across the world. Does it reek of being abnormally pretentious and a jackass? I think to really exlempify my douchebaggery, I should have big posters that say "Fulbright" on it.
My Closet:
You have no idea how nice it is to have my clothes all in one place and hanging up. Also, in regards to shoes...that is half of what I have going on. Clearly, America does have it's perks. One of them is that I have awesome parents who hold my shoes for 3 years as I galavant the world, looking for the perfect gyro.
My Living Room:
None of the furniture is mine. We do have a TV (w/ no cable). The cabinet is also full of souvenirs from across the globe. It's tough to see, but my super fancy chess set from Krakow is on perma-set up. Thank you, Papa 'Bama.
My Dining Room:
My Bathroom:
Kayla and I both have our own bathroom. It is awesome. AND my toilet, shower and sink are all in one place!!!!
Proof that I am still a proper yinzer:
God bless dem Stillers.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Accio Adulthood!
Harry Potter and I are the same age. Well, he is one year younger than me, but if I were normal in school, we totally would have hung out. And, let's be honest, I was a little chubberkins and would have totally befriended a boy that spoke with snakes. Who wouldn't want that kid as a friend?
So, the last Harry Potter pretty much meant that I was a grown-up. Gone was my glorious childhood of hoping that my birthday would bring mail from Hogwarts...or that I would finally get some magic powers. Sadly, my magic wand is just a credit card...in the sense that I get things, but will never ever pay for them.
To really nail the coffin in my childhood, I also got a job that same day. A full time 9-5 job working for a non-profit that advocates for worker rights. I am the supervisory office manager and basically run the non-profit's operations (HR-payroll, advocacy, communications, etc.). It's surprisingly legit and I have little free time to go on Facebook and doubt that I will be able to watch TV at work. Dubs e. It'll be good.
To celebrate my awesome new job and the official end to my childhood, I got dressed up as Lucius Malfoy and shuffled on down to Lakewood to watch the midnight showing of Harry Potter.
Kayla went with me and she also dressed in costume, which was awesome. In my two week depression, I was an absolute schmuck to her...so, it was nice that we could drive to the movies in costumes and be awkward as shit.
Kayla and I met up with some DTF-ers and none of them dressed in costume. None of them. At all. It was okay, we made new friends that totally did.
Look at Draco in the back, he was legit ecstatic to see me.
While in line, I showed everyone my badass darkmark tattoo. Luckily, I just so happened to have a sharpie, and I just happen to be awesome at drawing. (Actually, I don't think that I am artistic at all, but I realize now that my mediocrity is surprisingly better than others.)
As I was drawing the Dark Mark on my friends, there was some looking. Coming from Hungary, I expect to get the occasional death stare...especially when dressed in all black and rocking an official Lady Gaga wig (not mine, I promise). As I was finishing up drawing on us, the people next to us in line asked to draw it on them. There were a solid three people, and the mark took less than a minute to draw. Sure, why not?
As I was drawing on the three randos, a group of 20 11-14 year olds came up and asked if I would draw on them. Uhm.....
1.) Why are you out at midnight? On a school night? (Fuck the summer, it's not an excuse.)
2.) Why are you talking to strangers?
2a.) Why are you talking to male strangers in official Lady Gaga wigs?
3.) Fuck, how long does this take?
Since I am no longer going to be a teacher, but I do love the little ones, I started to draw the Dark Mark on all of them. It was annoying, but it made their night. Sometimes, you forget how little things really are awesome and badass to little guys...and also, how so fucking cool they felt. In fairness, I felt pretty cool for having a sharpie.
I watched the movie and it was great, exponentially better than Harry Potter 7.1. I was definitely happy that I went to see it at midnight...and I was def happy that I went in costume. I took pictures with little kids and made two little boys cry. Who doesn't want to end their childhood with a little badassery?
So, the last Harry Potter pretty much meant that I was a grown-up. Gone was my glorious childhood of hoping that my birthday would bring mail from Hogwarts...or that I would finally get some magic powers. Sadly, my magic wand is just a credit card...in the sense that I get things, but will never ever pay for them.
To really nail the coffin in my childhood, I also got a job that same day. A full time 9-5 job working for a non-profit that advocates for worker rights. I am the supervisory office manager and basically run the non-profit's operations (HR-payroll, advocacy, communications, etc.). It's surprisingly legit and I have little free time to go on Facebook and doubt that I will be able to watch TV at work. Dubs e. It'll be good.
To celebrate my awesome new job and the official end to my childhood, I got dressed up as Lucius Malfoy and shuffled on down to Lakewood to watch the midnight showing of Harry Potter.
Kayla went with me and she also dressed in costume, which was awesome. In my two week depression, I was an absolute schmuck to her...so, it was nice that we could drive to the movies in costumes and be awkward as shit.
Kayla and I met up with some DTF-ers and none of them dressed in costume. None of them. At all. It was okay, we made new friends that totally did.
Look at Draco in the back, he was legit ecstatic to see me.
While in line, I showed everyone my badass darkmark tattoo. Luckily, I just so happened to have a sharpie, and I just happen to be awesome at drawing. (Actually, I don't think that I am artistic at all, but I realize now that my mediocrity is surprisingly better than others.)
As I was drawing the Dark Mark on my friends, there was some looking. Coming from Hungary, I expect to get the occasional death stare...especially when dressed in all black and rocking an official Lady Gaga wig (not mine, I promise). As I was finishing up drawing on us, the people next to us in line asked to draw it on them. There were a solid three people, and the mark took less than a minute to draw. Sure, why not?
As I was drawing on the three randos, a group of 20 11-14 year olds came up and asked if I would draw on them. Uhm.....
1.) Why are you out at midnight? On a school night? (Fuck the summer, it's not an excuse.)
2.) Why are you talking to strangers?
2a.) Why are you talking to male strangers in official Lady Gaga wigs?
3.) Fuck, how long does this take?
Since I am no longer going to be a teacher, but I do love the little ones, I started to draw the Dark Mark on all of them. It was annoying, but it made their night. Sometimes, you forget how little things really are awesome and badass to little guys...and also, how so fucking cool they felt. In fairness, I felt pretty cool for having a sharpie.
I watched the movie and it was great, exponentially better than Harry Potter 7.1. I was definitely happy that I went to see it at midnight...and I was def happy that I went in costume. I took pictures with little kids and made two little boys cry. Who doesn't want to end their childhood with a little badassery?
Monday, July 18, 2011
No More Teachers
I feel like Elton John circa 1974, because this bitch is back.
I haven't blogged in quite some time, and it's because I was in a bit of a depression. For those of you who know me, you know that I am type-A like a mother fucker. I take on way more than anyone should ever handle, and I kick ass at it. Most recently, this adventure lead me to pursue employment with the Denver Teaching Fellows.
The work at Denver Teaching Fellows wasn't impossible. While others were struggling to write lesson plans, I was flouncing through everything and doing remarkably well. In fact, Dreamgirl even told me that I passed Institute and was going to be a phenomenal teacher. Later, Dreamgirl turned into a succubus who was intent on destroying my life and everything in my path.
She's still hot though.
Without going into too much detail, I was fired from the Denver Teaching Fellows. I honestly don't agree with their decision for several reasons, because namely, I kicked ass in the classroom. And not a little bit of ass. My students went from 1s to 4s on their oral assessments. The average math gain was 2 points, the average writing 1.5. My big goal for my students was to have them increase by 1, and well, they far exceeded this big goal.
Technically, I was fired because I didn't show a commitment to the Denver Teaching Fellows program. Which, is true. I'm not committed to being a teacher. I am committed to the achievement gap. However, why the fuck would you hire me or even grant me an interview, when you know that I don't want to teach forever? To be honest, I don't really buy their story and (to put it even more bluntly) if my and my FA's genders were reversed, I would definitely be suing for sexual harassment and unlawful termination. But, I'm not a girl, and she is not a boy.
So, thus ends my masquerade as a teacher.
Within 2 hours of getting fired, I had called a bazillion people, eaten a pizza, and applied to about ten jobs. My job applications grew exponentially within a few days.
Within one week, I was offered a full-time teaching position in Korea.
Within ten days, I had job interviews at Google and Epic.
Within thirteen days, I signed a contract to work at a non-profit and make as much money as I would have as a teacher.
Thus, I am very happily employed and life can slowly get back to normal. Today was my first day of work, and it deserves a separate blog post....but, to be honest, it was somewhat freeing to not be teaching anymore. Sure, I was good at it, but do you necessarily have to do things you are good at?
I haven't blogged in quite some time, and it's because I was in a bit of a depression. For those of you who know me, you know that I am type-A like a mother fucker. I take on way more than anyone should ever handle, and I kick ass at it. Most recently, this adventure lead me to pursue employment with the Denver Teaching Fellows.
The work at Denver Teaching Fellows wasn't impossible. While others were struggling to write lesson plans, I was flouncing through everything and doing remarkably well. In fact, Dreamgirl even told me that I passed Institute and was going to be a phenomenal teacher. Later, Dreamgirl turned into a succubus who was intent on destroying my life and everything in my path.
She's still hot though.
Without going into too much detail, I was fired from the Denver Teaching Fellows. I honestly don't agree with their decision for several reasons, because namely, I kicked ass in the classroom. And not a little bit of ass. My students went from 1s to 4s on their oral assessments. The average math gain was 2 points, the average writing 1.5. My big goal for my students was to have them increase by 1, and well, they far exceeded this big goal.
Technically, I was fired because I didn't show a commitment to the Denver Teaching Fellows program. Which, is true. I'm not committed to being a teacher. I am committed to the achievement gap. However, why the fuck would you hire me or even grant me an interview, when you know that I don't want to teach forever? To be honest, I don't really buy their story and (to put it even more bluntly) if my and my FA's genders were reversed, I would definitely be suing for sexual harassment and unlawful termination. But, I'm not a girl, and she is not a boy.
So, thus ends my masquerade as a teacher.
Within 2 hours of getting fired, I had called a bazillion people, eaten a pizza, and applied to about ten jobs. My job applications grew exponentially within a few days.
Within one week, I was offered a full-time teaching position in Korea.
Within ten days, I had job interviews at Google and Epic.
Within thirteen days, I signed a contract to work at a non-profit and make as much money as I would have as a teacher.
Thus, I am very happily employed and life can slowly get back to normal. Today was my first day of work, and it deserves a separate blog post....but, to be honest, it was somewhat freeing to not be teaching anymore. Sure, I was good at it, but do you necessarily have to do things you are good at?
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