But anyway, in a few days time, I will be returning to the ranks of the gainfully employed. I will be required to brush my teeth every day and take showers and actually have conversations with adults and not just my cats. It is a good time in my life. Any longer and I’m sure I would turn into some sort of hermit who hordes newspapers and take out menus.

In other words, I GOT A J-O-B!!! (That’s totally deserving of the multiple exclamation points!) NaIFinGoJoMo is a SUCCESS!

I obviously won’t go into any details on here, but I am really excited about the opportunity. I really think it will be a great fit.

In other news, my cats are not excited about this turn of events. They have actually enjoyed having me home. Weird, I know. I thought they’d miss throwing all those Kitty Kat Shindigs that I hear are all the rage in the neighborhood. But they will soon be excited about this change, since it means I can still afford to buy them food.

On the other hand, my pajama pants are overjoyed at this news. They are excited that they may stick around for a bit longer since there isn’t the threat that they will be soon turning into tattered rags from all the overuse they have been getting. Seeing as I haven’t worn a non-pajama pant in consecutive days for a few months.

So, yay! For the job and also because I’m rewarding myself with an iPhone as a “Yay! You got a job!” gift.

Look, I am unemployed and I have to get entertainment from anywhere I can. And this kind of entertainment is FREE! Do not judge me.

So, last week I got a call from some woman who found my resume online and figured I would be a good fit for some position. I came to find out it was a staffing company who had a temporary opening for an office manager role at a marketing design firm. They needed someone for two months while some woman went out on maternity leave.

After the phone call, me, myself and I had a real come-to-Jesus meeting about my job situation. Me reminded all of us that we’re still OK financially and that we have unemployment money coming in. Myself figured it might be worth it to go in and hear what this woman has to say, since it isn’t like anyone else is knocking down our door. I, on the other hand, have jumped into full-blown pessimistic mode and am convinced that I will never find a job and OMG, I will be living in a paper box down by the river and did you know it is almost WINTER? I will have to wear winter boots made from newspaper! I will have to shop at the HOBO store for sure! Hopefully they take containers of urine as a form of payment.

The three of us kind of came to some sort of middle ground, and I went on this interview today. My gut didn’t want to go either, but these days I can never tell if it is because in my gut I know it is a bad idea or if my gut really just doesn’t want to shower, put on make-up and leave the house. It’s weird, but those two feelings are similar in my gut.

In hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have gone. My appointment was for 11 this morning. I was there early and started to fill out the paperwork. If you’ve never been to a staffing agency, the paperwork is a bitch. They ask for 17 references and make you fill out all the stuff that is on your resume on some sheet BY HAND. I do not write things out anymore. That is what keyboards are for! I knew, as I was filling this repetitive info out, that this place was never going to find anything for me and this cramp in my hand would never feel vindicated!

Around 11:20 or so, I Twittered that I had been waiting for 20 minutes. I was about ready to leave. It is one thing to wait, but no one came out to talk to me. NO ONE! Not a “sorry we’re running late” or a “So-and-So will be with you shortly.” NOTHING.

FINALLY, at 11:40 the recruiter lady came to get me. FORTY MINUTES LATE. Because I was already irritated that I even went (I even promised gut a Chipotle burrito for lunch for mistrusting his feeling that this would be a waste of time), I told the woman that I was irritated. I said “you realize it is 11:40 and I’ve been sitting out there for 40 minutes, right? And this interview was supposed to be at 11?” She was all “no it was 11:30″ (which is a load of hooey, I tell you, HOOEY). And then she said something, that maybe I was supposed to be impressed with, “well, I’m the owner and I have to do payroll.” THEN DON’T SCHEDULE INTERVIEWS AT THAT TIME! Payroll does not sneak up on you! It comes on a very regular schedule. THAT YOU ESTABLISH!

Because I was so irritated, I barely answered her questions and kept constantly glaring over at her computer screen, which I could see was on CNN. NOT ON PAYROLL! And since it was a small office, I had seen her around 11:20 or so chit-chatting with one of the other women in the office about Sarah Palin’s expensive wardrobe. SO RUDE!

It got even worse. I have a feeling she only brought me in because of my job at the 49ers. Which, I’m fine with. It has never gotten me in the door for an interview before (I know! Surprising!), so I’ll take it. But this woman was a huge Bears fan. And once placed someone over at the Chicago Blackhawks office, so therefore she knew EVERYTHING there was to know about how sports teams were run.

Let me tell you, nothing irritates me more than people who think they know what it is like to work in sports. Yes, it is cool. But guess what? That coolness wears off after awhile and then it is a job. And it has some awesome perks. And I loved my time with the 49ers and it was a great experience and I met a lot of great people. But working in sports has a lot of shitty aspects too. And there are a lot of politics in sports and sexism and all sorts of not fun things. So unless you’ve experienced it, don’t talk like you know what it is like. We are a fraternity. And you, recruiter lady, so are not a card-carrying member.

So I basically left the meeting feeling like I showered and put on a suit so I could take the train down to the Loop to get lunch and some Dunkin Donuts coffee. It wasn’t worth it. (OK, the coffee was totally worth it.) I’d be surprised if I heard anything from them, if they will have any positions open that I am a fit for. I’m crossing my fingers, but I’m not optimistic. Myself and Me, they are optimistic. Too bad I have supreme rule and I’m the pessimistic one.

But it started me thinking. And thinking led to panicking. I don’t have any offers on the table. And after next week, it is November. Which means that the holidays are right around the corner. And no one hires during the holidays. Which means I’ll more than likely be unemployed until 2009. And that is a scary fucking thought.

Which means in my head, I’m heading down the path that I am so hoping to avoid, which is taking a job I don’t want. Taking a job I will hate, just because I have to pay the bills, and then looking for a job again in the near future. To me, that’s scarier than being unemployed well into 2009. That thought makes me want to cry, buckets and buckets of wine tears.

I’m forcing myself to stay positive, though. There is something out there for me. And maybe I will, in a few months, have to take some temp jobs before I figure it all out. At least if I don’t like those jobs, I know it won’t be forever. Everything will work itself out and I will eventually, much to my nap-loving, sleeping-in-daily self’s dismay, have to go back to showering every day and dressing in real clothes, clothes whose names do not start with “sweat” nor “tee”. I know I will have to go back to having conversations with people and not just cats.

Until then, I have wine club wine to drink and tubs of ice cream to devour. And that is something Me, Myself and I can ALL agree upon.

Add a straw and you could drink these in the car and totally not get arrested! Boxes are the new bottles!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I actually planned to write about something else entirely, but I couldn’t not share the wine juice boxes with you. And I feel bad for those of you who cannot buy alcohol in Target so that you can’t buy the Wine Cubes. Once you go cube, you’re never going back! Wine Cube in ‘08!

The plan, actually, was to write about a certain piece of mail I received today.

Do you remember when I mentioned here about a certain job I was interviewing for? Last time we saw our Interviewing Machine of a Heroine, she was in the finalist interview for this position. She charmed them and wowed them in the interview and then blew them away on the writing test. When it came to the thank you emails, she totally fucked up and sent emails at 11 PM, but what would that matter? Her credentials and her exploding-off-the-page personality were more than a little thank you email mishap. Most people don’t even send thank you emails anyway!

Fast forward a week after the last interview. Our heroine hasn’t heard anything. So she gives a courtesy call, knowing full well the last communication was that a decision would be made in a “few weeks” from now. She leaves a light, breezy message just to let them know “hey! I’m still here and still want the job you want to give to me!”

That was last Tuesday. Our heroine never got a return phone call. Again she thought nothing of it because she knew that “few weeks” meant more than one. Our heroine is very intelligent, clearly.

So this week on Wednesday, after our heroine hasn’t heard ANYTHING from this fucking company (easy, breezy heroine has LOST HER BREEZINESS), she calls again. Again, another reminder that she’s still here and has not heard A WORD from them. She attempts breezy, but is afraid that maybe when she mentions the fact that the HR person did not return her last phone call, it may come across as bitchy. She hope this doesn’t hurt her chances to become the easy, breezy Communications Manager.

Today, our heroine receives a letter (postmarked on Wednesday after said phone call) from the WEAK HR person at the company that says they have decided to fill the position with another NOT EASY, BREEZY candidate. Our heroine is upset by this letter for a number of reasons. Here she will list those reasons.

1. They spelled the heroine’s first name wrong. In the letter AND on the envelope. This may be OK had she not been on THREE INTERVIEWS with this company.
2. Actually, that’s never OK. Look at the FUCKING RESUME.
3. Our heroine knew, after two weeks of no returned phone calls, that she didn’t get the job. But since this company was being cowardly and not returning her phone calls, she was all excited about the prospect of calling once a week for the next 17 weeks until this company finally told her “NO, we did not select you. PLEASE STOP CALLING.”
4. A letter is totally a cop-out. Our heroine deserves better. After a phone interview and two in-person interviews, she DESERVES a phone call to let her know. And not just because she has left two messages. She deserves a phone call because that is the right thing to do after an in-person interview.
5. Our heroine, when she worked for the 49ers, had the duty of sending out ding letters to possible intern candidates. If the 49ers ever actually interviewed someone, like talked to them on the phone, they got a call from the PR Director to tell them “you’re a fuckwit, sorry you will never work here.” It is common decency to call a person to let them down easy.
6. Sending a letter because you’re too chicken to CALL SOMEONE BACK is just spineless.
7. This will bother our heroine for quite some time. Because as Stephanie Tanner once eloquently stated “HOW RUDE!”

Our heroine is actually OK with not getting this job. This debacle of the sorry handling of the whole thing, with the HR woman apparently too chicken to PICK UP THE PHONE (I’m talking Director of HR too, not a HR underling, not that it matters), made it clear that this would not be a good place for our heroine to work. There are better places for her to be at, places that will realize her witty, easy, breezy style and embrace it. She will find exactly the right place to work at.

She just hope that place has wine juice boxes.

So this week I told myself “Self, this week it is all business. It is time to get to work and put your nose to the proverbial grindstone.” And surprisingly, Self listened. Self doesn’t usually listen. Like when I’m all “Self, you do NOT need to eat an entire pizza” or “Self, I think two bottles of wine is enough for this evening” or “Self, maybe you could work out so that all those clothes in your closet will fit.” Self NEVER listens then. Fucking Self is a bitch.

Monday was shot. I had some errands I HAD to run. I needed toilet paper. I needed deodorant. I needed toothpaste for the days I remembered to brush. But I figured I’d get my Target run out of the way at the beginning of the week and then spend the rest of the week attached to my laptop as a Job Applying Machine.

I forgot how fucking time-consuming that is. I spent six hours (SIX! HOURS!) on Tuesday just doing all the searches on all the different websites. My plan of action was to save all the jobs I found on Tuesday and then use Wednesday to apply for all those saved jobs.

So that’s just what I did today. It was spent applying for jobs. It wasn’t a ton, about 12 or so, but enough. Enough of them that I had to change cover letters for. So that I didn’t have a “INSERT COMPANY NAME HERE” mishap again.

Actually this time, my mishaps were much worse. Because I am lazy and distracted by Twitter and emails. On second thought, I can’t even blame being distracted. I just blame being lazy and trying to get it all done in a hurry so I could watch TV.

My first bonehead move was when I decided it was smart to have seven different Word documents open. All the documents started with “cover letter” and then were dash something. Like cover letter-dash-marketing. Well when I had tweaked the communications cover letter to perfection, I was ready to apply for my first job of the day. So I copied the text from perfected cover letter, pasted it into the window and hit apply. Done and done.

That was until I went to apply for the next job and realized that I copied and pasted a cover letter from July. For a TOTALLY DIFFERENT JOB. Let’s just assume I’m not going to be getting that job. That’s a lot harder to pass over than INSERT COMPANY NAME HERE.

That is bad enough. I mean, I’m only applying for a handful of jobs, my margin for error is quite low. But sadly, that wasn’t the worst or only mistake I made during the day.

I found a listing for a job online for a professional writer, writing about social media like blogging and Twitter and Facebook. When I read it I was like this can’t be for real! Someone wants to pay me to do the shit I already do in my spare time? Sign me up!

So I readied a new email message to send off to the HR Man. I attached my resume and a writing sample. As I was going to hit “attach” to give them another writing sample, I hit send. I SENT A BLANK EMAIL WITH ONLY MY RESUME ATTACHED. THAT WAS IT. Apparently when I say I have great attention to detail on my resume, I am LYING. Clearly.

Then I proceeded to freak the fuck out. I IMed Nic and was all “Fuuuuuuuck! HALP!” She laughed and then was like “dumbshit. Good look landing a job this century, you moron.” And then after I threatened physical violence because I’m like a foot taller than her, she told me just to send another email. And pretend the first one didn’t even exist. So that’s what I did. And I’m sure that HR Man is getting quite a laugh out of it. Too bad I could totally do that job, even if they specifically said no snarky writing. I can be non-snarky. I’m not always Full of Snark. But I am always full of something.

~~~~~~~~~~

In other news, who watches Pushing Daisies? Please tell me that one of you out there does and watched the premiere on Wednesday. Because what the fuck? I know it has been almost a year, but they totally just abandoned the cliffhanger from the end of the first season. Ned and Chuck weren’t even talking to each other. Ned didn’t even know where she was. Now, right off the bat, they are talking and everything is fine and back to normal? HOW? Are you just pretending the first season didn’t exist? I DO NOT UNDERSTAND! Hopefully one of you out there can rant with me.

See, I’m actually kind of excited about this job. A lot of the work is very similar to the job I had with the Niners, doing media relations and also working with publications. I know I can do this job. And I know I could do it well. And everyone I’ve met seems to be cool and fun people to work with and for.

I did well in the interview part of it today. I charmed them and was funny and my normal fabulous self. So as long as they are looking for a girl who stammers when she talks, but is quick with the wit, the job is mine. My only real mistake was mentioning I’m a procrastinator when I was talking about how I like deadlines. I put things off because I like the pressure. And there are so many other better ways to say this then letting them know I am procrastinator. But I am stupid. But funny!

Then there was the question about where I had to talk about my website writing experience. And I immediately was like “if this guy calls me Kristabella, I am out the door!” So I talked about my writing for the 49ers website and my ability to know some HTML code. Which is a lie. I can add a hyperlink and make things bold. </knowledge> And I know that’s only funny to people who know HTML code.

For the writing test, I basically had to write a press release. Old hat for me. I have written hundreds of them. But I don’t think I’ve ever freaked out and analyzed a press release more than this one. I made up a quote, but was it an acceptable quote? Did I point out the right information? Should I not have added that date in the second line at the last minute? Oh my God, I totally shouldn’t have added that date at the last minute! I am so not getting this job! Woe. Is. Me.

And then there are the thank you emails. I sent them later in the evening. I meant to send them when I got home, but lost track of time because I had important things to do like fall asleep on the couch. Because apparently sleeping until 11 and going out of the house for three hours is fucking exhausting. So I planned on typing up the emails and sending them first thing in the morning. Even thanked them for taking the time out of their day YESTERDAY. And then I hit send instead of save. BECAUSE THEY BOTH START WITH S!

So now I’m panicking that I’m not going to get a job because I put a date in the second line of a press release. Or because I sent thank you emails at 10 PM and do I even HAVE A LIFE? Who wants to hire some funny, witty girl who sends emails at 10 PM. The Daily Show is on then!

Do you know why I’m freaking out about all this? Because the last job interview, the financial writing job that I didn’t get, has fucked with my head. Because I nailed the interviews and I thought I did OK on the writing test and I still didn’t get the job.

Which just means now I freak the fuck out over everything and analyze every little detail. Which makes me so tired I have to take a nap. Rough life right here, let me tell you.

Dentist/Tooth update -

• First, thank all of you for your advice and suggestions from this post! I really appreciate it. I felt like such an immature ass for walking out like that, but I was so livid. And I’m happy to know that you all felt I was justified in my over-the-top reaction.
• I called the old dentist today to get my old files, we’ll see how that turns out. She said she’s going to put it in the mail.
• I’m pretty sure I’m going to be like Elaine from Seinfeld and end up at a cat dentist because no human dentist in the city will see me because of what is written in my file.
• On second thought, maybe I don’t need those files.
• I need to call a new dentist. Thanks to all of you for recommending dentists. I’m taking it all into consideration. ANYONE is better than this one.
• Also, I plan on reporting this office and Bitchy Dr. Chen to the state boards and the American Dental Society and the Better Business Bureau. And I plan to write bad reviews anywhere I can, including 1-800-DENTIST, which is how I found them.
• As for legal action, I’m not sure there is any. Like other people mentioned, with teeth, it isn’t very black and white. Just because what she saw two months ago was a bad cavity doesn’t mean that she just didn’t know it needed a root canal. In all my years (and millions of dollars spent) at the dentist’s office, I do know that everyone is different and some times you just don’t know how bad the decay is and how it will affect the tooth.
• But she’s still a fucking bitch and I should have drilled her in the eyeballs. Or taken an X-Ray of her uterus without the metal shield! For problems in the FUTURE!

Job Update -

• I still don’t have one.
• I haven’t been looking online for any.
• I’m kind of getting used to this unemployed life.
• BUT!
• I have another interview at a place on Monday. This is the same place I interviewed at last week. This should be the final one, so I’m hoping to nail it.
• Do you remember that Washington Mutual commercial from a few years ago where that guy shows up late to work and was all “I just had a job interview. NAILED IT!”? Just me then?
• There is a writing test involved. I’m more excited for this writing test because I’m more familiar with the subject. And even better, it is an afternoon interview. Which is when I’m a better writer and more creative. It is why I write all my blog posts at night.
• So cross your fingers!

Misc. -

• My stepmom called and has an extra ticket to the Cubs game tomorrow afternoon, so I’ll be drinking at Wrigley! I love unemployment!
• I have not been online a lot lately because I was busy being the best granddaughter ever on Tuesday. I took my Gram out on errands and we got a new vacuum for her, some groceries and then I took her for a haircut. When we got home, I put her new smoke alarm in and put together her new vacuum. I RULE!
• And it was all worth it because I got a home-cooked Grandma meal for dinner.
• I’m totally going back next week!
• I’m not sure I’ll ever understand Facebook. I mean I have a blog, I have Twitter and I have Flickr. What exactly is the reason I need Facebook for?
• Well, it was nice having all those people wish me happy birthday, but I mean, why do I need flair and mythical happy hours and imaginary drinks? You can just buy me REAL BOOZE.
• But totally friend me and join my blog network. OK? Thanks.

So today was probably my first real freak out about the whole losing my job/HOW WILL I PAY MY RENT situation that is forthcoming in like two days.

Remember that job I gushed about last week? The one I turned down a job in the suburbs for? Turned down on the hope that I would get this job I wanted and was totally going to kick ass in the role because of my mad writing skillz, yo? Well, I didn’t get it.

I’m actually not too shocked. I hadn’t heard from them, blamed it on the holiday and the HR woman being out on vacation recently, but knew deep down they were itching to hire someone soon and if that someone was me, I would have heard from them.

I’m also not too surprised because I know I bombed the writing test. “What?” you ask. “How could that be possible?” Well, because this company was in the financial sector. With banking terms and acronyms. Shit I know nothing about. And after the writing test I had a sneaking suspicion that it wouldn’t come easy to me, that I wouldn’t ever really grasp the lingo and be passionate about finance and banking and accounting. We all know how the consulting thing went over.

So like the day I got my notice from my current job, today was no different. I wasn’t overly shocked, but I was sad and disappointed all the same. Most of that sadness and disappointment comes from the fact that I overreact.

For instance, here is an excerpt of an email between me and my mom:

ME: I didn’t get the financial writers job. Woe is me. Will be unemployed forever. (Even though, technically I’m not unemployed until Monday. I overreact AND I’m melodramatic. Cue the tiny violins.)

MOM: Oh, I’m so sorry honey. That really sucks. But you’ll be fine. It wasn’t meant to be. You’ll have another job before you know it. And now you get some time off.

ME: Did you not hear me the first time? WOE. IS. ME. WOE. A LOT OF WOE. WOE I TELL YA!

MOM: It just means something even better is out there.

ME: I know, but this just means that I will have to use all my severance on bills and rent and not on flat screen TVs and iPhones and paying off the ridiculously large amount of debt I have.

MOM: You will find a job in the next three months. I know it.

ME: WOE. No iPhone. MOUNDS OF DEBT.

MOM: I have to go. I’m not feeling so well. (She actually said that but I’m pretty sure I wasn’t the one making her ill. If anyone should be sick to their stomach, it is me. My WOE is making me sick.)

I know everything happens for a reason. Please, I’m like a walking advertisement for that. That is what it is going to say on my tombstone. Anyone at my funeral who will be sad will be smacked in the face with a slice of bacon and told, loudly, EVERYTHING HAPPENS FOR A REASON BITCH. That is how much I believe it.

I know I’ll find a job. And I’ll find one sooner rather than later. And I’m pretty sure I’ll find one before my severance runs out. And I’m now convinced that I will find one I love and that suits me and that is a good fit for me.

But that doesn’t stop me from freaking out and going from calm to batshit crazy in .001 seconds. Which sadly is par for the course in the Fabulous Life of Kristabella.

Oh hello there, readers. What? Where have I been? I have been melting into a pool of my own sweat and tears because I am going to be UNEMPLOYED at the end of the week and what the fuck is up with this heat wave? Don’t tease me with temps in the 70 last week and then bust out the 90s one last time, Mother Nature. You should be fired. Your services are no longer needed here.

So where have I really been? Drunk mostly. And sleeping. And eating a lot of grilled cheese sandwiches because I am too hot and lazy to go to the grocery store to buy real food. I would have never have thought I could get tired of grilled cheese until I decided to eat it four days in a row.

(THIS is what you’ve all been missing on my blog, haven’t you?)

So I’m here to update you on all my goings on. Which I’ve pretty much summed up with UNEMPLOYED, DRUNK, HOT and GRILLED CHEESE SAMMICHES.

Job Update:

My last day is this coming Friday. I have four days left. Really only three since I just have to come in for like an hour on Friday. But since I still have to wake up early, it counts.

I’m not sure how I feel. Well, that’s a lie. I am freaking out. I’m a little nervous. Ideally I wanted to not have a job by my last day because I would like to take some time off and then be all refreshed when I start my new gig. But there is that little voice inside me that is all “HOLY FUCKING SHITBALLS! YOU ARE NEVER GOING TO FIND ANYTHING! THEN WHAT WILL YOU DO WHEN THE SEVERANCE RUNS OUT? WHAT??? HUH? WHAT? SUCKA!”

And really, I can only quiet that voice with lots and lots of alcohol. Because shut the fuck up, Voice. We will cross that bridge when we come to it and NO MORE BEER FOR YOU.

Job Interview Update:

Thank you to all of you who commented on my last post which was like a week ago. (That was a long stretch, huh?) I made the decision to tell the job in the suburbs that I was offered another job and that I had to remove my name from consideration and I thanked them for their time and wished them luck on finding an ideal candidate. (How professional sounding, right?)

The Voice did not like this one bit. Voice is all “THIS WILL BE THE ONLY JOB YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN OFFERED! WE WILL LIVE ON RAMEN NOODLES AND BOONE’S FARM! OH, THE HUMANITY!”

So then I drank more to shut up Voice and now Liver and I are in a big fight because Liver is all “GROW SOME BALLS AND SHUT UP THAT VOICE, BITCH! I NEED TO FUNCTION FOR MANY MORE YEARS TO COME!”

Last week I had my interview with the one job I’m very interested in. I think it went well. I had a writing test, and while I wasn’t super familiar with the material, I think I did OK with it. The hardest thing was making a 300-word bio down to 50. That’s easy peasey since that’s all I did at the Niners was write bios. But 50 words is not a log when the person has worked for 2 companies that each have 10 words in them. So yeah. That and I’m a wordy motherfucker.

So I haven’t heard anything from them yet, but I know they had other people to see and it was a holiday weekend, so I’m going to give them a call on Tuesday and see where I stand.

I also got another call on Thursday so I think Voice is starting to chill the fuck out. And if neither of those work, we’ll go back to the drawing board. And go buy a few 40-ounce Colt 45s for Voice.

Why People Don’t Talk To Strangers Update:

Last week I had a really nice time at the sales conference. This group of people were huge fans of mine for some odd reason. Probably because I am bitter about leaving and don’t sugarcoat anything. Oh, wait. I’m like that normally.

Anyway, last Sunday night, they were all out at a bar. I went down to the lobby bar looking for the group, only to find no one there. Thankfully I saw one of the attendees coming around the corner and he told me everyone was next door. So when I went over there, I learned what it must be like to be a celebrity. Everyone was so excited to see me and yelling my name and giving me hugs and buying me drinks. It was AWESOME.

So needless to say, the week was a lot of fun. Especially since I had nothing more to do than sit in the back of the room and play Sudoku.

Wednesday night, we went out to a bar with karaoke. Because I may have drunkenly mentioned my skill at singing Baby Got Back. And of course they all wanted to see it. So we headed to a bar and took a seat. We sat right next to a table full of Chicago cops, who were eating dinner. Because no one should arrest a bunch of drunk and disorderly people on a full stomach.

As we were waiting for the karaoke to get started, we played trivia. The cops played trivia too. Being a few beers in, and also an IDIOT, I decided to trash talk the cops. Because the one dude, who totally checked me out when he came in, was kicking our ass. So I decided to take off my shirt and dance naked in front of him and his club sammich. It did not work.

Since he wouldn’t bite, I decided to talk to one of the other cops, a very nice policeman, when he was getting up to leave. I wanted to know about his wardrobe selection and why some of them had dark blue bullet-proof vests on and others had light blue. (It’s a personal choice.)

We then got to talking and I started kidding him about taunting the other cops, trying to psyche them out during trivia and didn’t he like my shirtless table dance? (He did.) And then I told him how the one cop, McGruff the Crime Dog, was not friendly. And then I joked to Nice Cop that McGruff got so irritated with me that he gave me a HUGE bruise on the back of my arm. (Yes. I actually said that out loud.)

And then Nice Cop went all Serious Copper on my ass. He started asking me what happened and if the guy next to me did it. He even went so far as to measure the guy’s thumb print to see if it would make a bruise like the one on my arm.

Want to know what I said? (You actually don’t.) So then I was like “Actually, I got it from a rough night. I told him NO MEANS NO!” (*smacks head on table*)

Copper did NOT find me funny and I finally told him that I banged it on the door frame of my car when I was getting in one day because I am a fucking klutz and I bruise like a peach. And then I batted my eyes at him until he went away and am glad he didn’t ask me my name and address.

And then I thought “This is why Heather B. does not like to talk to strangers. Point taken Heather.”

And then I sang Baby Got Back to a crowd of strangers and one of the sales guys took a video of it. That I might share. But it was well-received by the whole group the next day and solidified my rock star status.

Misc. Updates:

• I have not been on the computer much in the last week. I’m way behind on my reader. Thankfully I should have some idle time this week during working hours to catch up, hopefully.
• Saturday night I went to a rooftop party with my friends Shelly and Stacy and ended up making out with a gay guy. Well, he thinks he’s straight, but everyone else at the party is pretty sure he’s not. And he did this weird thing with his mouth when he talked, like an old person would do when talking without their dentures. It was weird. He was weird. And it was just gross.
• And then I got hit on by a seemingly nice, funny guy. Who was 23 and lived at home with his parents and had no job. He didn’t see why this was a problem. NEXT!
• I had a dream this afternoon during my nap about my ex-boyfriend, who may or may not still read this site. I’ll just say it was very real and very out of the blue because I haven’t thought about him for about a year.

Bacon Update:

FINALLY! I’m going to announce the winners of the Bacon contest! And since I’m lazy and sweaty and full of grilled cheese, I’ve decided to use random.org to decide the winner. Because then I can’t feel guilty if someone didn’t win. You’ll have to take it up with a COMPUTER!

First, the winner of the Bacon vs. Tofu figurines is…

Allison! Which works out well since she actually wanted them and had plans for them!

And the Bacon Band-Aids go to…

Melissa! Who will wear them for her appointments with Dr. Hottie.

Congrats ladies, email your mailing address to me at fullofsnark (at) gmail (dot) com.

I’m definitely doing another Bacon giveaway in the near future!

And finally, I need some book suggestions. I’m going to have a bit of time on my hands and I’m out of books to read. Suggest away in the comments!

Here’s the dealio, I have recently had some job interviews. There is one in particular that I have gone to three separate times, today being the third time. It is out in the suburbs. It is for an executive assistant job. It is in the suburbs, which means I have to drive. A LOT.

Everyone I have met has been lovely. The receptionist knows my name. It seems like a very cool place to work and very collaborative and my kind of place. And I could definitely do the job.

But, it is in the suburbs. And I think that I wouldn’t end up liking the job. The more I think about this job, the more I feel like I’m going to end up someone’s bitch (or many peoples’ bitch) and I’m not going to like it. And then I’ll be even crankier from driving an hour each way.

Today they mentioned they would like me to come back on Friday. To take a computer test. Like to see if I know how to use Excel and PowerPoint, etc. Apparently the last few people have lied and have not known how to use it. The more I talk with them, the more I feel overqualified and while I would love the people, I don’t think I’d be happy. Just a gut feeling.

Plus, thinking about doing that commute in the winter puts me on the verge of tears. I did that once when I first moved back here and it was miserable. And I think it took 8 years off my life.

But I feel horrible. I will have to follow up with this company in the next day or so and I’m going to have to lie and just tell them I’m not interested and that I have another offer. And I know what you are all saying “just tell them the truth! Tell them the commute is too bad!” But I can’t! Because they’ve already asked if it would be a problem, numerous times, and of course I said “No! I love being in my car and driving! Gas over $4 a gallon just warms my heart.”

I’m way too nice because it literally pains me to even think of telling them this. I feel like I’ve wasted their time. And now they are probably back at square one. And that is MEAN! I am NOT MEAN!

But here’s the thing, Wednesday morning I have an interview. It is downtown. It involves some writing. It involves meeting planning. It involves some traveling. I WANT this job. I’d be perfect for it. I’m going in tomorrow and taking a writing test! This is what I’m supposed to be doing. It feels more right.

Now, I know I’m putting the cart before the horse. And in the end of this, I could end up turning down one job that would have made me an offer and not getting an offer from the other place and then find myself back at square one.

I am OK with that. One, I have a cushion. I have some time to play with and I can also collect unemployment. Two, I feel like I would be taking the job in the suburbs just to take a job. And that is exactly why I didn’t go on the FIVE HOUR INTERVIEW OF DEATH and exactly why I ended up in a job a few years ago that didn’t pay me enough and where I had to commute 30 miles one way.

Plus, who wouldn’t want to hire me with my mad writing skillz, yo?

On top of that, I’ve had a few interviews and I’ve been stressing out about each and every second of each and every one of them. And worrying that I may end up taking something I don’t really like and wondering if that means I’m going to go through this process again in the near future. And really just FREAKING THE FUCK OUT ABOUT EVERYTHING. I would like to stay at this next job for more than a year and a half (baring I don’t hit it big in the lotto or something). I want to really like it and enjoy it enough to not want to jump to another position. Although, with my lack of patience for stupid people, this doesn’t really bode well. A girl can hope, though.

Last Wednesday night/early Thursday morning I think I worried myself into stomach pains. I woke up Thursday morning, having a 9 AM interview to get to, with the world’s worst stomach ache. The stress of 2 interviews in one day, having to wear a suit that doesn’t fit, on top of remembering to pack because I was getting ready to head out to the suburbs for the weekend to watch my niece and nephew, was too much, I think.

I ended up cancelling the interview on Thursday morning. I have contacted the woman a few times to reschedule, but haven’t heard back. I don’t think I was meant to have that job.

After I slept for a few extra hours, I proceeded to freak the fuck out and just wanted to call it quits on the whole interviewing thing altogether. I had a bit of a crying fit and was feeling really sorry for myself and wanted to cancel all the interviews and just crawl back into bed for the rest of 2008.

But I sucked it up for the interview Thursday afternoon because I can’t avoid this. I can’t avoid finding a job. As much as I’d love to take three months off and start back up working in January, I can’t afford to do that. And I also know that my desire to shower and go to job interviews after sleeping in for three months will be NON-EXISTENT.

See, I’ve been through this song and dance before. Quite a few times. This next job will be my fourth job since I moved back to Chicago in 2005. So I’ve been on my fair share of interviews. It never gets easier. No matter how much I use my Jedi mind powers to force them into giving me the job (because seriously, if I apply for the job, I CAN DO IT. TRUST ME), they still make me go through the whole process and answer all the questions and make me sweat through my polyester suit.

It doesn’t really get any easier. I’m constantly second-guessing my answers and what I did or didn’t ask. Or wondering if my suit pants that are safety-pinned closed are going to burst open and poke someone’s eye out. And really, this is not way to go through my waking hours. I do enough embarrassing stuff in my dreams.

So this weekend, with an interview coming up on Monday morning, I tried to change my attitude. I went out and bought a new suit that FITS. And I got it for only about $20 because I had a gift card. And the pants are long enough so I can wear heels and not worry about looking like I just traipsed through flood waters to make it to an interview. It made the world of difference in my comfort level in the interview this morning.

This weekend I also spent three nights at my brother’s house, spending time with him and my sister-in-law and my niece and nephew. And it was the perfect break I needed to stop worrying about job interviews and unemployment and work and the internet and everything EXCEPT naked mens swimming in the Olympics. Because even I have my limits, people. There’s always room for half-naked, perfectly sculpted, WET men on my television.

My weekend was spent doing puzzles, playing Wii, chasing a two-year old around the kitchen table, eating pancakes, pizza and ice cream cake, watching movies and realizing that there is no greater thing than seeing the pure joy of a two-year old who gets to eat a lollipop twice the size of her head.

It was exactly what I needed.