phat jobs

I'm still job-hunting. Mostly in the fields of government relations (advocacy/policy) and writing/editing. The (only) fun thing about the job search is looking at the jobs posted on Craigslist. If I were an Etch-a-Sketch artist or a yo-yo master, I would be set.

Another employer offers free food and drinks and a phat lounge. I do not believe the word "phat" was used ironically. The free food and drinks sound good ...

Experienced cubicle installer. Tube fitter B. Head lice removal tech. Croation translator.

Was informed that an employer with whom I interviewed, for a job that requires significantly less experience than I can offer, is "inviting other candidates whom we believe more closely match the requirements of the position and needs of the organization for a second round of interviews."

I remain mystified as to why my being overqualified is scary to employers. I've been out of work for well over a year. I won't be leaving anytime soon. And I will be very grateful and they will get those excess qualifications for the same salary as they would pay someone with just the right amount of qualifications.

Got a similar e-mail immediately before. They are surprisingly and depressingly similar to writing rejections.

losing your arm

The other day, my middle finger on my right hand, around the left side of the fingernail, became infected. It hurt a lot. It made typing difficult. It reminded me of a friend's husband who developed a staph infection in his hand and almost lost his arm. He had dug into his hand with something to get at a splinter, I think. I'm pretty sure my infection came from clipping my cuticles.

It took a lot of my attention. I kept putting Neosporin and gauze on it. I missed using my hand.

Yesterday, I noticed the skin was greenish. I explored, trying to pull the skin back. I pressed on it and green pus came out. It was disgusting and excruciating. I pushed as hard as could until the pus was gone and some blood and clear fluid came out. When nothing else came, I left it alone.

It's still swollen and hurts a little, but it's getting better. This could be a morality tale or reminder to myself that when things are wrong, they might have to get worse to get better, but it's better than keeping them wrong. Or it could just be a gross story about an infected finger. I think it's just the only thing I could think of to write. When you can't write, you're supposed to write. So I wrote a story about pus.

Good for me.

things other people said

I don't know if people read the comments to past posts. Two people left quotes in response to my immediate previous post,the first of which reminded her/him of me, the second, a response, I think, to my statement about the world feeling too big. I like them both. Thank you Anonymous and Polly.

From Anon:

I'm a woman delighted with her disasters. They give me something to do. A profession of sorts.

Sandra Cisneros

(if this is not the first time you're reading, you know this is a remarkably accurate description of me. i would not have used the word "delighted," but i do seem to have a lot of disasters and many are probably unnecessary.)

From one of Polly's favorite poems (no author cited):

As small as a world, and as large as alone.

I guess today is a day of quotes that relate to or resonate with me. My friend, Heather -- one of my favorite people -- posted the following on Facebook. Emerson had it right, I think.

Whatever course you decide upon, there is always someone to tell you that you are wrong. There are always difficulties arising which tempt you to believe that your critics are right. To map out a course of action and follow it to an end requires courage.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Finally, Cornel West referred to this one during an interview yesterday on NPR. It's from Chekhov's "The Three Sisters." It is perfect. This is me.

I'm in mourning for the world, saying in part that I have a sad soul and a cheerful disposition. I can be up, but I know deep down, I'm still trying to come to terms with the suffering not only of myself, not only of my loved ones, but all of those around the world.

no guest

So, the reading I put together was fun. People seemed to like it. You can read about it in the Examiner.

I guess I'm going to be doing more of it. People keep calling it a "series." I never called it that but I think it might be a good thing to do. Tonight, I talked to the owner of a cool new bar in downtown Oakland and he's going to let me do the next reading there.

I got a parking ticket today and saw someone's tires get slashed. It was not a good day to own a car.

You know how sometimes something makes sense and you know it does and it's someone else's really important thing to make decisions about but it leaves you feeling sort of upset and resentful? I know that's oblique and annoying but I needed to say it and that's the best way.

The world feels very big today. I hope it shrinks some before I wake up.

blank

I am at a loss. I don't know where this week has gone. But it's gone. I think we met, but very, very briefly. I think I liked it but am fairly certain the feeling was not mutual.

Some things I remember about this week: I was chosen to participate in a market research thing that paid $150 for two hours. Its subject was the internet. I got there and they gave us sandwiches and even had Diet Pepsi, which was a pleasant surprise because, when diet cola is offered, it is usually Diet Coke.

So, this guy pulled each of us aside and asked us a question. We had been asked many, many questions by the guy who called to screen us. This guy was under the impression that I was a serious blogger. I corrected him. When the questioning was done, the guy told us they always invite too many people and that some of us would be excused. I was one who ate a sandwich, drank a Diet Pepsi, got a $150 check and left early.

I am not writing. I AM NOT WRITING. i am not w r i t i n g.

I am putting on this reading on Sunday. I was doing it for the journal I was fiction editor for, but now it's an East Bay thing. There is a surprising amount of interest in it. People seem to think I will organize things like this regularly. I am tired. I need help. You should come if you are in the area because there are some really great people reading. This is the cool flier that Ryan Bradley created as a favor at a moment's notice. He is very nice and talented and you should pay him to design things like book covers for you.



My printer keeps telling me there is a cartridge error and I have done everything possible to fix it. I saw the ocean today. I had a pre-interview job interview. I cannot complete anything. I painted my nails a very sheer pink color called Petal Pusher, even my thumbnails, which are bitten to their quicks. I can't write anything. Not even this. I feel like a fraud and a disappointment. Don't tell me that I'm not because I won't believe you. If you told me, maybe I would believe you tomorrow.

crawling

Lit Crawl took place Saturday night in San Francisco. It's like a pub crawl with some literary stuff mixed in. It actually is, in large part, a pub crawl, as most of the events take place at bars.

The Crawl is the culminating event of Litquake, a pretty awesome week (plus some) of readings and the like. For writers, readers, fans, people who don't mind hearing words while they drink, it is a good time.

I'm trying to read more. I like reading. I don't know if people like listening, but it's still new enough to me that it's fun and kind of nauseating and great. I got to read at this open mic. I was the first name picked. They said something like I was newly released from San Quentin. Which is not funny, as it is true. Ha. That was not funny, either.

This very nice boy took video of the readings. I like him, except for the fact that he took video of my profile, which I do not like. I don't really like my front, either. Audio would have been good. At any rate, the same very nice boy will also be at my East Bay reading on Sunday, which is very cool.

Anyway, that's all I'm going to talk about because I haven't been feeling all that great and my friend is coming over and even though I look very huge in the video, I hope he brings dinner because I am poor and I don't want to feed him. That's sad. I like to feed people. It's training for being a Jewish mother.

Lyric stuck in my head: And what's new pussycat is you were once a lioness. They cut your claws out. (Okkervil River). It's been stuck in my head for awhile. Maybe I was once a lioness. Maybe I just aspire to it. I'd rather not go backward.