Where Were You Thom Gunn?

(This post is regarding a job application where I gave a 5 minute presentation in front of other job applicants and the employer.) (lol.)

"Ahem." Taps lectern. Peers about near sightedly.

I have noticed. As fool incarnate, one does not have rearview mirrors. One gets side view mirrors. Its part of the deal. The reason is obvious. Rearview mirrors are unnecessary and redundant. Side view mirrors are where you see those who already are in the act of passing you.

"Ahem."

Job shopping is weird. Particularly for someone whose best response is 6 edits away. And who automatically subverts all expectation, as homage to a youth spent amassing poetry books and attending poetry slams. To date my best non-answer is "Whether you like to be around a group of people fits within the spectrum of attending a basketball game or going to the bathroom." lol. I cringe to admit it, but yes I said that. lol. And, *sigh,* I didn't get the job. lol.

"Ahem." (Here I imaginarily pull my blog close and launch into a dreary recital of metals. Including several important facts about silver. lol. Would that I'd become momentarily discombobulated and lifted my left leg behind me, arms outstretched and skated forward in the hopeful to be fulfilled pose of a Christmas special. Or, like my 6 edits away from elegance in this post.)

"Ahem."

And in the side view mirror looms a fellow presenter's take on "Biogeography." Guy, if you ever stub an optical nerve upon this post, let it be known, you are my hero. I would like to know what your name is because you are that great. At that moment in time I was distracted by a rearview mirror that was not there. I should have risked a glance at the side view where you launched into another realm. Not often is one invited into an alternate universe in a 5 minute presentation for a job. You taught me something.... even if it can't pay the mortgage.

Thom Gunn, where were you.

"On motorcycles, up the road, they come:
Small, black, as flies hanging in heat, the Boy,
Until the distance throws them forth, their hum
Bulges to thunder held by calf and thigh.
In goggles, donned impersonality,
In gleaming jackets trophied with the dust,
They strap in doubt--by hiding it, robust--
And almost hear a meaning in their noise. "

The place I first encountered Thom Gunn's poetry was a used book store on Broadway in Chicago, a couple of blocks north of Diversey. Another couple of phrases in the same "On the Move" poem....

"Men manufacture both machine and soul,
And use what they imperfectly control
To dare a future from the taken routes."

Economy: The Dismal Reality

I applied for a study today that started out with the description: "Are you depressed? Feeling blue or irritable? Low energy? Lost interest or pleasure in things? Appetite change? Negative thoughts? Sleep disturbance?" I applied because being unemployed and without health insurance in a state with the second highest unemployment in the country, it fits me somewhat. Also, I will admit it amused me to apply to it. Getting paid to talk about how depressed I am trying to keep 2 cats fed in this economy? I'm there! But I didn't get a call back. *How depressing.*

Job listings can be interesting though. Like the ad for a Tattoo Artist & Piercer that has in its description "Piercers with 500 piercings under your belt.(not literally)" And, you know, an ad for a baseball umpire? I've never watched a full game of baseball. I went to Wrigley Field once for a rained out game. (Must say the brews in a bar nearby were worth the trip.) But I do sort of feel like applying to it. It sounds so mythical. In fact just thinking about this opens up a whole new realm. Sports announcer for the New England Patriots.... *lol.* What's really funny is I can't even interview Brady or Bellichick in my imagination. In my imagination I faint!

So I'm stuck trying to be a part of a focus group for cable t.v. (though I do not have cable or a t.v.... ) This, though, is way less interesting than some of the jobs I've heard about: scraping insects off of traps in apple trees, receptionist at a golf club (that's oddly odd), Easter Bunny at the mall, a 'pea-tester' with a tender-o-meter, zoo keeper, picking out microscopic little mammal teeth out of dirt, selling tickets at a carnival (me, me, me!), pig farm hand (no, no, no!), and model in a runway show. (This brings up an interesting point. Are all models on drugs? I would have to be. But, so too would the audience.) The jobs I've left off that list were the pelvic exam, uh, model, and an art model. Because both of those jobs are so core, oddness simply cannot apply to them.

For almost 2 months now, the days have been getting longer and the sun brighter. Spring, is good! ;)

My Inner Sitcom

I don't watch sitcoms... don't own a T.V.. But sometimes it does seem like there is an inner need for silliness that without a proscribed outlet (such as T.V.) life will mimic absurdity at the most inconvenient of times. *sigh* Like the other day.

I'd a couple of job interviews lined up. The first challenge besides getting out the door was finding the place. Okay I should've used google but I thought I knew where it was in my scribbled on one page notes kind of way. But it was on WEST Exchange St.. Not Exchange Street. I went to Exchange St downtown... WEST Exchange St is a few blocks away... does not touch Exchange St, nor does it run parallel or perpendicular to it. I found it by asking a couple, a court official, at the post office on Exchange St. and then a limo driver (who was on an unlabeled unsigned WEST Exchange St when I asked him.) By running I arrived only 5 minutes late to an empty office.

The day proceeded from there. Honest, I need to win the lottery.

And the next interview was one of those times when you've forgotten the tape recorder you didn't know you needed because nobody in their right mind would believe the slush being uttered by, well, me. I need a fall back joke list like any struggling comedian in front of a reasonably intelligent mildly judgemental audience who finds you less interesting than road kill. *I do prefer to laugh than to cry even if I'm the only one in the room doing it.*

Now to follow my logic which may, actually, make more sense than New England roads... if I owned a T.V. I'd have a job! Yikes!