Kristabella: Full of Snark Since 1977

Posted By Kristabella on August 26, 2008

I’m stressing out, kids. It is a good kind of stress, but stress nonetheless and WHERE IS MAH WINE?

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?

Category: Job Search | 49 Comments »
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Posted By Kristabella on August 24, 2008

I’m venturing into the last two weeks at my crap-ass job. As we speak, I’m not minding it all that much seeing as I’m sitting in my 31st floor hotel suite overlooking Michigan Avenue and drinking my free bottle of wine and eating my free chocolate-covered strawberries. (Well, I’m not actually eating them since I don’t like strawberries and fruit and chocolate should never mix.)

I’ve been through this work sales conference song and dance before. In fact, the suite I’m staying in? I stayed here just last October. But this was the first time that I didn’t want to go. Like sitting on my couch this afternoon on the verge of tears didn’t want to go. As much as I thought it would get easier every day to come in and sit around and DO NOTHING, it isn’t. Top that with some annoying co-workers and I’d really like to be working from home the next 8 working days. In fact, I’d really much prefer to pull my toenails out one by one with pliers than be here this week.

But, hey, free wine.

Other than that, my weekend was chock full of BORING. There was much sitting around and eating and drinking of fruit punch flavored sugar-free Kool-Aid. And TV watching. And I maybe finally saw Juno and was the last person on the planet to do so. And I loved it.

Also, I watched Definitely, Maybe (seriously, I was in my bed ALL DAY on Saturday, but mainly because it was 100 degrees in my house and that is where the A/C is and NOT because I’m a lazy slob) this weekend. And I have to say, I thoroughly enjoyed it. I was impressed with Ryan Reynolds. I thought he could only play roles where he was a douchebag. But he pulled off the whole dad thing and it was sweet and totally ended the way I wanted, which I was worried about there for a hot second, and I totally wept. Yeah, I didn’t just cry. I kind of sobbed because I’m an emotional asshole.

(This has to be the worst blog post in the history of blogging. I’m sure Dooce would not like this, seeing as she’s the reason I’m able to type and blog and pretty much live as a human being. Let’s all bow our heads. Thanks be to Dooce, Amen.)

Friday night I went to a wedding. My friend Jenny was getting married. It was a lovely ceremony and she looked stunning. She had the most beautiful dress. Which I would show you but I left my camera at home. And I’m in a hotel, drinking free wine. In case I hadn’t mentioned it.

(Dear burglars, please don’t take anything. My cats are vicious and will attack strangers. Kthxbai.)

(You would think I am drunk, but I am not. It must be the high altitude. Did I mention I am on the 31st floor? In a suite?)

I have not picked winners for the Bacon/400th post contest. It is mostly because I am lazy and didn’t want to bring the laptop into my bedroom this weekend. Because the laptop makes the bed warm and it was already hot and humid in my house and do not want.

The other reason is that I don’t know how to pick winners. You are all winners. And if I don’t pick Slynnro, she will beat me up. She’s a mean fucker.

My friend Michelle even attacked me on Friday at the wedding, on the dance floor (no place for confrontation, unless it is a dance-off), because she wants the Bacon band-aids. Because she’s vegetarian AND kosher. And I’m all “but Slynnro is MEAN and Ben’s daughter has CANCER. WHAT IS A GIRL TO DO????”

So I decided to put it off for a few days until I figure this shit out. And not go poor in the meantime because I want to buy you ALL bacon novelty gifts! And I can’t really do that seeing as I am going to be unemployed in two short weeks.

But to ease the heartache of no winners announced, I will tell you that I am making the Olympics live on even longer and will be doing an Olympics DINAO this week. That is, if I don’t get too drunk and pass out on my bed with my clothes on with my phone in my hand.

(Oh, it has happened before. It actually happened the last time I stayed in this exact room in October. Teh classy, I has it.)

Category: A Dash of the Crazy, All Things Blogging | 25 Comments »
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Posted By Kristabella on August 21, 2008

Last night the 49ers came into town for their preseason game with the Bears. The 49ers have actually come into town at least once a year every year since I’ve moved back to Chicago. It is nice to get to see the few people left that I still know.

I’m still bitter about some of the things that happened at the 49ers. I’m still bitter that they laid me off. And I’m still bitter about the way that organization tends to treat people and how the owner is turning a storied franchise into something of a joke.

I’m also bitter and pleased at the same time that in the three years since I’ve left, they have had two different people try to do my old job. And no one has matched the work I did there in my six seasons. If I do say so myself.

There are not a lot of people left that I know who still work for the team. There are even less players who are still around. And only because an ex-49ers coach came back this year, I now only know 2 coaches on that team. The place has changed so much in just three years.

Last night I started off waiting for the team to arrive at their hotel, and I hung out with Gary Plummer, an ex-49ers player who now is a radio announcer for the team. We spent some time catching up and he gave me the dirt on the people and how things have changed.

Then we spent a lot of time drinking. And then there was more drinking and laughing and hugging. And talk of my blog. And me passing out some of my blog business cards because I have like 200 left over from BlogHer and need to get rid of them. And then finally around 3:30 AM, I decided that I had been up for almost 24 hours and that I was the one who had to get up early for work. So I hopped in a cab and got my happy, drunk ass home. (Yes, I did get hit on by the cab driver. But no, no digits were exchanged. He wondered why I was single.) And then I slept through my alarm and work up at 10 AM and decided that Day -11 At Work was going to be a work from home day.

I had a really good time last night, but at the same time I didn’t. My years with the 49ers were some of the most defining in my life. It is where I grew up. It is where I became the person I am today. I was part of that world for six years. And now I’m not. So as fun as it is to hang out with all these people who still work there, it is hard because they still work there and I don’t. They have moved on. I have moved on.

I am happy almost every single day to be out of that world. I am happy I get to spend my weekends and evenings doing the things I want to do, and not spending 12 hours in a football pressbox. With every time I see my former co-workers, I move farther and farther from that life. It makes me sad because there are people there I still wish I worked with. It makes me sad that all my hard work, all my awesome work, is forgotten and now I’m just a name and photo in a media guide. And a drunken girl in a bar in Chicago that has business cards for her blog.

There are still people there that I love. And they miss me and it makes me feel needed and missed. When you don’t get to leave a job on your own, there is always that part of you that is going to feel like you have some unfinished business. Because you didn’t get to walk out and give everyone a big middle finger and tell them to SUCK IT! So there’s always a part of you that wants them to not be able to move on, to not be able to manage without you still working there.

It is nice to hear that sometimes, three years later, that still is the case.

Category: Forty Whiners | 22 Comments »
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Posted By Kristabella on August 19, 2008

Have I mentioned that I am obsessed with the Olympics? No? Well, let me tell you that Olympic fever, I has it. And I have fallen into a deep depression because Michael Phelps hasn’t been on my TV in DAYS, DAYS I TELL YOU, and now I have to resort to Google and reading any and every article written about him. I’m a huge Phelps Phan (did you know that’s what they call people who love Michael Phelps? No? Then you haven’t been doing your Google homework.) And also I’ve decided that my new career is to be Phelps’ PR person because dude needs to learn how to do an interview. He will have no staying power if he keeps saying the same thing over and over. We get it, you’re at a loss for words and it is awesome. SAY SOMETHING ELSE.

My Olympic fever has waned since swimming ended on Saturday night. I just don’t have the same passion for track and field and gymnastics and basketball and anything else. Those people wear too many clothes. And also? Track athletes could learn a thing or two about humility from the USA swimmers. It’s not all about you. But maybe, Usain Bolt, you of the gold shoes, if you could take off your shirt, you might be able to change my opinion. Just a little.

I clearly have an obsessive personality. Clearly. Google does not help this little obsession in these current times. (Current times? I apparently just morphed into an 83 year old woman.) Because now when I’m all “what is Aaron Peirsol doing TODAY?” I just ask Google and I’m flooded with images and then I see him smiling and those pretty blue eyes and photos of his well-sculpted chest and then I realize I HAVE A PROBLEM. (Possibly a job where I had something to do might stop me from doing this.) (TWELVE MORE DAYS! WOOT!)

This is not a new thing. I’ve had my Olympic obsessions in the past. In fact, there is one huge one that stands out and I’m embarrassed to even be telling this. (Between dropping a Star Trek reference Monday and a Star Wars reference Tuesday, I’m pretty sure this post is going to send me to new heights (or lows) of geekdom. It was nice knowing all of you.)

Back in the 1992 Olympics in Albertville, France, I had a Phelpsian/Peirsolian obsession with Alberto Tomba. Tomba was the rage of the winter games that year. Albertville was re-christened Albertoville for the two weeks. He was handsome and charming, a ladies man, a rule breaker and I loved everything about him. I lived for all of his races. He was Tomba La Bomba. All across France that year you could hear the chants of “Tomba! Tomba! Tomba!”

I was so obsessed that I watched for everything that aired about him and looked for everything that was written about him in the newspaper, in magazines, anywhere. In the Age Before Google, I had to rely on hard copies of news publications to get my news.

And get my Tomba news I did.

I cut out every article about him in the paper, every feature about him in the magazines. Anything written about Alberto Tomba, I cut it out and put it in a scrapbook. (Can you feel me wincing at my nerdiness through the screen? CAN YOU?)

I had an Alberto Tomba scrapbook. Oh yes. Yes I did. (*hangs head in shame*)

But he was just so cute and was such a bad boy and I wasn’t the only one who loved him. I swear. It was Tomba madness across the world!

And I’m really wondering why I even had friends back then. Or why I even have friends now. (Who will all be unfollowing me on Twitter by the boatloads once they read this.)

At least my mom will always love me. Even if Alberto never will.

:::

Don’t forget to leave a comment HERE and enter for a chance to win fabulous Bacon prizes! Contest ends Wednesday night!

Category: A Dash of the Crazy, Sports | 28 Comments »
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Posted By Kristabella on August 18, 2008

As I’ve mentioned, I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed these days. It is partially because my job is ending soon. And we have another sales conference next week, which means work is a little hectic.

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.

Category: All in the Family, Job Search | 22 Comments »
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