Don't Rain On My Parade

Before I begin, I just wanted to ask (both of) you for some feedback on my new-ish layout. I, personally, think it's pretty and relaxing and makes me want to take a vacation to Hawai'i, but I'm not the one who has to stare at it for minutes at a time. So, thoughts? Is the background too busy? The font too Times-New-Roman-y, perhaps? Or maybe just too small? Let me know, and I will gladly make changes.

Now, back to business. It's November! And you guys know what that means: my favorite food-based holiday is right around the corner! Ahhhhh Turkey Day, the crown jewel of holidays for gluttons everywhere. Okay, just gluttons in America, I suppose. Anyway, this time of year always makes me think about how much I love food. Seriously, guys, I love it a whole lot. I wanted to be a pastry chef for the vast majority of my childhood, and I would drop everything and go to culinary school in a second if I could actually afford it. But, sadly, I can't. So, I've been looking into the next best thing: working in a bakery/cafe/patisserie/chocolaterie. Surprisingly, there are a lot of them around here. A lot. (Sidenote: why haven't I ever been to any of these places? How could I have missed all the dessert-alicious wonder??)

So here's my dilemma: as a UC Berkeley graduate, can I bring myself to work a job where the only requirements are being able to stand for eight hours and lift ten to fifty pounds. Did I really go to college for four (and a half) years, and pay tens of thousands of dollars into the system, only to return to the types of jobs I was working back in high school?

Maybe I sound ridiculously haughty and pretentious, but I feel like the minute I hit "submit" on that online application, I'll be flushing the last five years of my life down the drain. No one will care that I majored in political economy if I'm working the counter at Starbucks. No one will care that I studied abroad in Germany if I'm restocking the display case at the local cafe. And that's the scariest part: no one will care. The glorious Berkeley degree for which I worked so hard, the thing I was told was a fail-safe even in the toughest of economic times, won't matter. In fact, not only will it not matter, it will be considered a hindrance; on my so-called "retail resume," my "education" section has now fallen all the way to the bottom.

I know that I'm not the only one facing this dilemma, and I know that my first job won't be the be-all and end-all of my career, but still...I don't want to go down that road. Not yet. Not after all this time. Have I really exhausted all of my other options?

And then an awesome (and, at times, super necessary) part of my brain breaks in with a little optimism. It says to Debbie Downer over here that it loves food, particularly dessert-type food, and it likes people, particularly dessert-type people. Would working in a chocolate shop really be that bad? Wouldn't walking into your office and smelling cupcakes wafting through the back of the house be kind of awesome? And Debbie Downer stops...and thinks...and says, "You know what? It would be."

Life Less Ordinary

I never realized how much time I wasted on the computer until I got my new one. During the six months I had to go without, I attributed my overabundance of free time to things like not having to go to class or being unemployed (which, granted, are both viable excuses); in actuality, however, my lack-of-internet was the culprit all along.

Not being wired for a pretty substantial length of time gave me a chance to do other things -- like read. I hadn't read for fun (at least not more than a book or two) in years, and yet, I found myself checking out things from the library in double-digits and demolishing three or four good-sized novels every week. On top of that, I also watched tons of movies I'd never seen -- some good, some not-so-good -- and caught up on all the TV I'd missed while I was pretending to be a busy busy college student (well, at least the stuff I could get for free).

Now, the five minutes or so that I used to spend on the computer daily (just to check my email and such) often manages to stretch into hours. When I think back on where that time went, I can't even remember what I was doing half the time. You know how microwave minutes are always longer than regular minutes? Well, I'm pretty sure you can fit about ten internet minutes into one normal one. Don't ask how or why...that's just the way it is. I do know that I spent four hours the other day playing stupid games on Yahoo. FOUR HOURS. How does that even happen?! (I'm ashamed to say that I'm kind of addicted to the time-management/own-a-restaurant-and-serve-your-customers-the-correct-things ones, which is weird considering that I would never in a million years want to work in food service.) The fact that I somehow fall into a time-sucking vortex every time I turn the computer on means that I am so much less productive than I used to be. I'm down to one book every two weeks, if I'm lucky, and my ability to watch an entire season of something in one day? Gone. (I know that it doesn't sound like I was being super productive in the first place, but at least it felt like I was getting things done, even if those things were only polishing off season three of Rescue Me or reading a memoir in two days.)

I've decided that something needs to be done about this nonsense, so I'm going to limit my computer access for a while...I'm not sure how yet, but it's going to happen. (By the way, that four hours I spent playing games took place while I was "taking a quick break" from the job search. My brain clearly doesn't want to continue with this charade.)

Speaking of jobs, I have job-related news! I've been volunteering with a campaign since I hit the 6-months-post-graduation mark (which also coincided nicely with interviewing for the position with CC...imagine that). Anyway, the organizer (/speechwriter/volunteer coordinator/policy analyst/research fellow) was conspicuously absent from the wiki for a couple of weeks, and I was a little concerned because he usually updates daily. Having checked Google News and not finding his name in any incident reports (what? I said I was concerned), I shot him a quick email asking what was up. He responded a few days later saying that he had actually decided to transition out of the campaign and that they were looking for a new organizer (duhn-duhn-DUH). He didn't offer me the job or anything, but he said that if I was interested, he would recommend me and get me on the short list, which is better than nothing. Also, they're looking specifically for someone with event organizing experience, which I have. We'll see. This all happened towards the end of the workday on Friday, so I'm thinking no one's even going to be looking at candidates until Tuesday or Wednesday at least, but it's exciting nonetheless! I'm not getting my hopes up though...I learned my lesson after last time. The jobs itself looks pretty intense -- the only paid employee, 50+ hour work-weeks, commuting to SF pretty often, and minimal pay -- but it's actually something I could see myself doing as a career, and you can't get much better than that.

Other things: I'm trying to get out and be more social. I'll hopefully be joining a Stammtisch at some point (it's like a language club...you just go to a bar and drink and practice German with other people who are learning); I also found a group of recent grads that meet up all around the area, and they seem really cool. I'm not sure whether I can bring myself to go alone though, since they seem to all know each other already. But if I bring some friends along, there's no way I'm going to meet anyone new. Quite the conundrum.

Well, happy September! It's starting to look like Autumn here, but it certainly doesn't feel like it with massive heatwaves and such. We're having a Labor Day BBQ tomorrow to enjoy the weather while it lasts.

The Candy Man Can

Hello to all of you lovely people out there. I decided another update was in order, as my previous post wasn't very informative. Also, there are pictures (!!!), so read on...

Things to which I have been up (it doesn't sound right, but it is grammatically correct):

• NightLife at the Academy of Sciences: Museums are probably second on my list of "favorite things ever" (trivia capturing the top spot, naturally), so when I heard that the Academy was hosting weekly after-hours parties for the drinking-aged set, I was so in. It wasn't quite what I was expecting: I naively assumed it would be a bunch of like-minded twenty-somethings who showed up for the learning and awesomeness instead of being in it for the drinking, but I was wrong. Still, it was pretty cool. The highlight of the night was some guy hitting on me in the "Extreme Mammals" exhibit. I totally shut him down without realizing that he was attempting to chat me up, and I felt really badly after I figured out what had happened. Oh, me.  

Tree frog!

Jellyfish are so photogenic.

Overlooking the aquarium walk-through.

Lepidopterophobia: fear of butterflies.

• I HAVE A NEW COMPUTER. Also, a new printer/copier/scanner thing and a new iPod (of the Touch variety). There is too much technology around me! I can't possibly handle it all. I haven't even delved into the mysteries of the iPod yet, but my MacBook and printer are both amazing and I love them. I also love the fact that I no longer feel disconnected from the world and everyone in it. It's pretty awesome. 

• I went to the Boardwalk! A little history, for those of you unfamiliar with the wonder: Built in 1907, the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk is California's oldest amusement park. It's one of those parks where admission is free and each ride costs a certain number of tickets. Basically, it is pretty much amazing, and every week during the summer, they have 1907 nights where everything only costs a dollar. So we decided to go. S and I went early to avoid traffic and hit up Capitola on the way. The only affordable thing in Capitola: salt-water taffy. We bought almost a pound and a half. Then it was off to downtown SC (which is a lot like Berkeley, only cleaner and less frightening) for some dinner. Delicious dinner, might I add. No I did not have the Skippy Burger. And then Boardwaaaaalk! We had to ride The Giant Dipper twice because it's my favorite and also the best ride there. (Oldest roller coaster on the West Coast. For some reason my friends didn't really want to know that fact. I have no idea why.)

 

SO GOOD.

Deliciousness.

Please note: Skippy Burger. Ew.

 

 

YES.

• News from the job front: The organization with which I interviewed updated the job listing to extend application dates, which, I'm assuming, is their not-so-subtle way of telling everyone who has already interviewed (see: me) that they haven't found the right person yet. Thanks for that, CC. Sure, I would have given up my hopes of going abroad so you could overwork me for what was sure to be less-than-minimum wage, but why should you email me to tell me you're not interested? Why would that be necessary? No, I wasn't waiting by my computer, obsessively checking the listing for any changes, just in case. Where did you get that preposterous hypothesis? It's very frustrating, although I'm sure I'm preaching to the choir. Just...how hard is it to send an email? I mean, really? Stupid. Anyway, I'm applying for a job in the language lab at one of the community colleges around here. It's not quite full-time, but I would still get benefits (awesome) and I would have time to continue volunteering in the political scene if I felt so compelled. I'm actually kind of qualified too, so I'm hoping I'll at least get an interview. We'll see.

I guess that's it for now! I hope you all enjoyed this photo-heavy post. It was kind of hell to put together, so I might keep updates to one or two pictures from now on.

Happy August!

When You're a Stranger

I love trivia. I mean, I love it a whole lot. I could regale you for hours with little tidbits of information I've picked up in the twenty-two years I have been on this planet. It's one of the reasons I'm so good at all things historical; I just remember things: names, dates, places, sequences of events. I have no idea why my brain works the way it does, but I love it. (This savant-like tendency applies to song lyrics as well, but that is slightly less handy and a lot more annoying for everyone around me.)

Still, even though I watch Jeopardy religiously and worship Alex Trebek like he is the modern-day equivalent of the golden calf, I recently had to come to terms with the fact that not everyone has the same kind of respect for useless knowledge that I do.

Case in point: pub quiz. My passion for the trivial has made me a stalwart devotee of Quiz Night at the local bar. Every Tuesday, rain or shine, win or lose, I am revved up and ready to go, but my teammates have become slightly jaded. It's understandable, naturally; I mean, I think the best we've ever done is second-to-last place (unless you count winning for "Best Team Name," which is sort of an honor but doesn't really make anyone feel less dumb). Long story short, after weeks and weeks and weeks of losing horrendously, and in the spirit of communal sacrifice (on my part, at least), it was decided that pub quiz would be forsaken in favor of something a little more appealing to the rest of the group.

With that, I was on the hunt for a bar that would satisfy all our needs (cheap beer being top among them, I'm not gonna lie). I found a few that looked promising, the reviews made the rounds via email, and last night we hit up a place called The Oasis. Sounds relaxing, right? Um...wrong. It was loud and kind of dingy with a not-so-prime strip mall location and a loyal group of middle-aged regulars in various states of inebriation -- basically everything a dive bar should be. The barkeep swore like a sailor, we were constantly harassed by one particularly stubborn drunk (he was hitting on one of us...we just never figured which one), and there may or may not have been a fight in the kitchen during our brief stay. Still, despite all this, it was one hell of a night; I mopped the floor with the opposition at pool (sorry, guys) and learned a whole lot more about some of my friends over a pitcher at the local watering hole (which, in my opinion, is really the best way to get to know someone); honestly, what could be better? Let's just hope next week can measure up.

In other news, there's still no word on the interview front. People keep telling me that they're jealous that I have this very specific idea of what I want to do with my life, but outside of working for this particular organization, I'm really pretty clueless. I mean, where do you start looking for a job when your goal is to change an entire political system? Should I try to worm my way into the bottom rung of the political food chain or should I head straight to the source? Should I accept any old job just to make some money or should I hold out for something I'll actually enjoy? There are just so many questions. Anyway, I'm giving them until Friday, and then it's open season on the job front. I'm being a bit pessimistic at the moment because being pleasantly surprised is a lot better than being bitterly disappointed in the end, so I'm just trying to keep my options open.

What else? I'm still rock climbing, and I've managed to keep myself relatively healthy somehow. (For someone as injury-prone as me, that's saying a lot.) I'm also in the throes of summer and am trying to soak up as much sun as humanly possible with camping and BBQs and trips to the park. It's working out pretty well too. Oh, and I made cupcakes! Peanut butter cup cupcakes, to be precise. If there is a more perfect combination than peanut butter and chocolate, I certainly haven't found it.

Happy July, everyone!

The Song Sings Itself

I didn't realize until a couple of weeks ago that I've been keeping a pretty regular pace of one blog per month on this thing. Unfortunately, once I realized that, all my attempts at updating for May failed. (I currently have three other posts "in progress" and unpublished on my dashboard, and who knows when, or if, I'll ever get around to finishing those.) Anyway, here is one last-ditch effort.

It's been a particularly drizzly month in the Bay Area. The way the local meteorologists are telling it, you'd think we were bracing for a flood the likes of which only Noah has seen. As it stands, however, we're just experiencing a bit more weather than usual. Personally, I couldn't care less -- I love the rain -- but as May bleeds into June, I find myself missing the sun.

In an effort to escape the nimbostrati* that have been hovering over my beloved hometown for the past few weeks, it was decided that a road-trip to Santa Cruz was in order. Google Weather for the area was holding steady at a sunny 73°, and although the Northern California coast is famous for being a bit finicky, we figured we would give it a go nonetheless.

We hopped in the car in the early afternoon and made our way to Natural Bridges State Beach. I'm still not really sure why they call it that, because I didn't see any bridges (natural or otherwise), but it was a nice beach all the same. After laying out the towels and getting all sunscreened up, I began my most recent library find -- Smile When You're Lying: Confessions of a Rogue Travel Writer by Chuck Thompson -- and let my mind wander. It naturally made its way across the Atlantic and wound up smack dab in the middle of the Cote d'Azur. Don't worry, I'll spare you the details of my month spent backpacking along the Mediterranean (I know, even I'm jealous of me), but I can't help but think back on that time whenever I find myself face-to-face with The Big Blue. And when I do, I start missing it more than ever. I'm not really talking about the places I went, although each was amazing in its own right (even Florence, despite the fact that it was never under triple digits, temperature-wise, when I was there); it's more a feeling that I miss: the feeling you get when you're traveling without any reservations or set plans. It's a feeling I had after graduation, when it seemed like the whole world was at my fingertips, but it's gradually begun to seep away. Now that I've completed my resume (it took me a whole week, but I did it!) and have started sending it off to potential employers, the world available to me seems to be shrinking by the hour. I started with all seven continents (alright, let's be realistic and say six...you couldn't pay me enough to go to Antarctica), but the radius has now narrowed to "commuting distance from my dad's house." Sometimes it feels like I'm suffocating in this town, which is an odd feeling for someone who had only been out of the United States once, and only for a day, before a year ago.

That little bit of mental meandering somehow managed to color the rest of my time in Santa Cruz. We headed downtown once we'd absorbed all the vitamin D we could and spent the few daylight hours we had left window shopping (actual shopping was avoided on my part, but not for lack of trying). I couldn't enjoy it properly, though. There was always this little voice nagging at my subconscious: you should get a real job before you buy anything. But what if I don't want a real job? What if I want a job so spectacularly amazing that I won't even care about buying things anymore? Well, who doesn't, right? Even in bookstores, we somehow always managed to end up right next to the travel section; Europe was literally staring me in the face. I just couldn't get away. We had dinner at a tiki bar, and all I could think about was dropping everything and just moving to Hawai'i. It's a pipe dream, sure -- I mean, what would I even do there? -- but it's been done before, and I don't see why it couldn't be done again.

I guess I'm just wondering if this level of dissatisfaction is normal. There must be people out there who are happy to just go from college to career and then work their way on up to retirement and beyond. Should I be one of those people? Or is it okay to want something more?

Am I some sort of travel-crazed mutant who needs changes of scenery to grow strong? Is the prospect of adventure my radioactive spider? (Wow, that was nerdy.)

It's all too much to think about right now. I really wish someone would just grab me by the shoulders and point me in a direction, any direction. But I guess being a grown-up means there's no one around to make my decisions for me anymore. This song, sadly, won't sing itself.

*Yes, it is a real word, and yes, I did do research to figure out a fancier way of saying "rain cloud."

Get With the Program

Alright, after a month of being lazy and sitting on my bum in front of the telly (I've been watching a lot of BBC), I'm officially looking for a job.

Step One (the easiest step of them all) was getting some interview clothes to get the ball rolling. I'm happy to say that I have two bottoms and no tops. Wait, that came out wrong. After a day of shopping and a mere $40 down the drain, I am now the proud owner of slacks that fit (huzzah!) and a kick-ass pencil skirt that makes me look so professional it's ridiculous. Tomorrow's task is clothing the rest of me.

Step Two was reading a book. I know it sounds like a weird step, but hear me out. I got this book for graduation called Getting from College to Career: 90 Things to Do Before You Join the Real World. Unlike many other books marketed to college grads, this one doesn't start with freshman year, which means I don't have to look back and regret all the things I shoulda coulda woulda done to jumpstart my future career but didn't for whatever reason. I've only done a couple of the suggestions so far, but the author assures me that it's a process (and a very slow one at that).

Step Three is spending more money and investing in a handy dandy notebook for all my job-related notations and random thoughts. As someone who still values the benefits and accessibility of the written word (read: someone who doesn't have an iPhone, Blackberry, or other super-mobile, internet-ready device), it will definitely come in handy to be really organized in this area.

Yeah, that's all I have so far. It's a good game plan though. Right? For starters, at least?

Our generation seems to be the Lost Generation. All of America's hopes and dreams are pinned on today's twenty-somethings, but resources are scarce and opportunities appear to be few and far between. So many of my friends are floundering in this weird purgatory between graduating and getting a job that it's made me really pessimistic about the prospects, but this book presented some stats that made me feel much better about my situation, and I thought I would share.

Did you know?

-- It takes the average college student three to nine months to find a job after graduation.
-- 48% of college grads move back in with their parents, and this number increases during recession years.

Even if those numbers are way off, knowing that my friends and I aren't the only ones having issues is a little ray of sunshine in these dark economic times. I feel very fortunate right now to have a roof over my head, food to eat, and health insurance (since I seem to be a walking incubator for bacteria these days), and I will continue to take full advantage of them for as long as possible. But as my next birthday creeps up, I seem to be jonesing for a change of scenery, or at least something to prove that I won't be spending the next year or two in limbo.

But before I can get with the program, I need to find one that's hiring.