Internsh*t Part II

After I posted my story about Aflac and the internsh*t, I received a comment from a fan (aka I got an email from my best friend “Jimmy”) reminding me of another time that could also have the title ‘Internsh*t’. Weird things tend to happen to me, I don’t know why and I couldn’t make these up if I tried. Well, let’s be honest, yes I could because I’m awesomely creative. That’s how I got out of work all the time but came up with reasons that I was still very valuable to them. Creativity people. Get it. Buy some.

It started out as a shiddy day (get it?!)…it wasn’t really. I was a “senior” in college and had a real internship at a bank. Let me stop you right there- no, robbing a bank doesn’t count as an internship. No, I wasn’t an Asian bank teller and no, I don’t still have keys to the vault. OR DO I??? So anyway, I would go to this internship twice a week for four hours each time. For those of you playing at home, that’s eight hours a week. EIGHT! No wonder I’m not into the whole “40-hour work week”, I wasn’t brought up on it. At that there internship I was working/coloring/drawing in the Marketing Department. This entailed spending my afternoons thumbing through local newspapers and cutting out any articles/ads/pictures that mentioned the bank. Then I would glue these articles to construction paper like a f*cking 3^rd grader and go home to get drunk.

On said “shiddy day” I was wearing my grey work pants (Editor style from Express) and a blue sweater- yes your Honor, this is relevant and we’re coming to the point. I was at my internship, sitting in my tiny back corner with the 1976 style computer, chatting to Jimmy via gchat about how bored I was and how messed up my stomach was- not an unusual occurrence for me because as a lactard I combined yogurt and string cheese on a regular basis. That instant I felt a little fart coming on, which again isn’t a big occurrence for me- I know, I’m so lady-like *insert ball scratch here. Since I sat alone in that tiny back corner cube it wasn’t usually a big deal for me to…ya know…so I went ahead and did just that. But it wasn’t just a regular fart…there was more to it…I had literally sharted into my work pants.

As soon as it happened I knew something was wrong. “Something AIN’T right here” is exactly what went through my head. Remember when I said I was in ma gray pants? Yikes. I calmly told Jimmy that I HAD TO GO TO THE FLIPPING BATHROOM IMMEDIATELY and calmly excused myself to my boss without saying anything and shuffle ran with my butt flexed down the hall to the bathroom. The way I was moving made it look like I had been shot at close range in the back by a paintball gun. Well, I’m sure you can imagine what I found when I got there and it wasn’t pretty. I’ve already said too much here- but let’s just clarify that I no longer have those underwear, that internship or my dignity. I do, however, still have those pants. Ca'mon, man- Express pants are expensive!!

So anyway…this blog might become a series of my past experiences…since I’ve got NOTHING BUT TIME to reminisce with myself...and my brother, who is also unemployed. We're clearly upstanding examples of college grads. Good for us, D. Good. for. us.

Internsh*t

Hi Fan(s)-

I apologize it’s been a few days since I blogged. I’ve been busy. HA- don’t buy that. I was just bored and couldn’t think of anything to write.  Since we last spoke I’ve signed up for a personal training certification, turned in my unemployment form TWICE and still don’t have a job. I’ve had a few emails about openings, but they’re all at some random @ss staffing company that I personally don’t think even exists. It’s either one guy with 900 different email accounts, or it’s fake and these are just robots sending out emails to try to get me to show up to an “interview” and suck my brains out.

All these fake job emails reminds me of my “senior” year in college (I added “” ß those because it was my 5^th year….shud up) when I applied for internships around Madison. I received an email response for an internship at Aflac Insurance. I loved that duck and it seemed like a quacktastic place for an internship, so I set up my first interview. I dressed all appropriate and adulty like (not in my Wisconsin sweatpants for the first time that entire semester) and drove to the interview. When I arrived at the office there was a receptionist desk with a HUGE stuffed duck sitting there. I tapped on the desk and said “Helllloo?” No response. Perfect. Stood up on my first interview. “Hello?” And finally I hear a man’s voice “Hi, yes back here. I’ll be right up.” Now I’m all nervous because there is someone in that office besides myself and the duck (which was most likely a nanny-cam).

A 30-something man comes up to the front and introduces himself as the manager. He could have been the janitor for all I know, but I followed him to the back of this office space- and by office space I mean abandoned old-timey candy factory. Whhhaat? It was my first interview- give a girl a break!

My first question revolved around my observation that there were NO OTHER EMPLOYEES IN THE ENTIRE OFFICE. None. Me, the duck, the man- three bodies in that office building. He responded with “Oh, well most of our agents work out in the field and only come into the office a few days a week. I guess they’re all just out working at the same time!” Hahaha. Not. Funny. Dude. So I proceed with my interview. I tell the man that I am a very good student (lie) and that I have a 3.7 GPA (that was actually my best friend’s GPA- just went ahead and borrowed that little life detail from her for the day) and that I really love insurance (and ducks). After about a half an hour interview I left that place feeling really good about what I had just done. He called about 30 seconds later and said they (who was they?) wanted to invite me back for a second interview! Yay!

On arrival for my second interview I again encountered a completely empty office. Weird, I know. But I just figured all the employees were dead…or wait, what did he say they all did? Anyway, I went into this man’s office and he started the interview with this, “So, I checked out your Myspace page.” Um….excuse me, I thought you had said you went on the world wide interwebs and performed an unsolicited search on me. Me- “Oh, and what did you find?” Just remember that at this point in history Myspace was a pretty big deal and my page was the sh*t. I didn’t put any bad pictures up though because I don’t take bad pictures- OH SNAP! It just had an awesome Justin Timberlake background song and floating snapshots of all ma friends. So, he replied “oh just normal college stuff” and at that point I knew I would not be working for Aflac. A. How do you know what “normal college stuff” is, you’re 109 years old. B. Don’t look me up on the internet CREEP!

He called after my second interview and said “they” had decided to offer me the internship for the fall. I politely declined and received an email back almost instantaneously asking me out on a date. Quack you Aflac man!

TGIT (because it means one more day and I'll have human contact again!)

"Hi ******

Thank you for your interest in our Sales Development Manager - Santa Monica, CA opening. 

Unfortunately, we have recently decided to close this position and will not be able to move forward with your candidacy.Should something change on our side and I decide to re-open this position, I will not hesitate to contact you.

Thank you again for your interest in an employment opportunity with Pandora, and I wish you the best in your current job search.

Happy Thursday...FREAKING NOT. I woke up this morning to this email. It isn't the first one I have received so I've learned to deal with it the same way I handle emotions. Just shove 'em in the trash...aka the deleted box. I guess all I can say is what a good friend once told me (albeit he was blackout drunk, had just tripped and fallen face first into a door then opened his wallet to have $20 be blown away by a cold Chicago winter wind) "You win some, you lose some." 

Again though- this blog isn't about my life as a man or a women (just trying to keep my anonymity here) it's about unemployment and deals (kinda). So here are a few tips I've learned the past few days- go out and enjoy SD on a budget people :)

1. You can print coupons to a lot of bars and restaurants at this website- check it out before you hit the town!

         - http://www.sandiegorestaurants.com/coupons.cfm

2. The following restaurants give you free food on your birthday (take the day off and eat, Nerds!):

          - Baskin Robins: Sign up for the BR Birthday Club and, five days before your birthday, the ice-cream joint will send a free-scoop coupon and a discount on your birthday cake.

          -  Beninhana's: Join the "Chef's Table" and get a $30 gift certificate on your birthday

          -  Bruger's Bagels: "Like" their page on Facebook and you will get a coupon for a free bagel and cream cheese emailed to you (this is anytime, not just on your bday!)

          -  Buca Di Beppo: Sign up for their "eclub" and receive a free dessert on your birthday, also a free dessert on your wedding anniversary too!

          -  Chili's: Sign up for their E-mail club and get a coupon for free queso and chips. Downside: you have to use it in 48 hours. You also get gift cards to use anytime.

          -  The Melting Pot: Become a fondue member and receive a fondue-for-two (how cute, it rhymes!) Other invites include wine tastings and food samplings!

*There are plenty more! Google the deals before you go out, and make sure to sign up for free clubs and cards so you can receive gift cards and coupons from the establishment!

That's all for now folks- guess I'll go apply for more "jobs". Gag.

Bye!

Health Insurance MIGHT be a good idea...

Health Insurance- apparently it’s a big deal if you don’t have it. I thought it was just one of those things that people get all amped up about but doesn’t really matter. Like for example “Masters degrees” “filing taxes” or “regular dentist check-ups.” I was way off base on that one.

When I got laid-off I hadn’t really looked too far past the awesomeness of the situation. I was leaving work at noon, never to return. I was now able to sleep-in on a Wednesday, go out on a Thursday night and lay out in the sun EVERYDAY. What didn’t cross my mind was that I’d no longer have health insurance handed to me on a little silver platter ( I did have to pay for that platter believe it or not), nor would I have dental, vision, 401k (knot gonna have it) or a secure paycheck. On that Tuesday (and then four Tuesdays after) the only thing that crossed my mind was that I wasn’t going into work and wanting to poke my eyeballs out with unraveled paperclips. When I got my Cobra notice, I literally shot milk out of my nose like I was over-acting for a show on Disney Channel. Not really, but I mean it was $440! NO THANKS COBRA. Ya d*ck. I’m not paying $440- the state of California and I- are not paying $440 for some stupid health insurance that we never use as we are the pinnacle, picture, epitome of health. Shove it, SnakeSurence.

Cut to me signing up for a triathlon a few weeks later, getting my first road bike which involves clip-in shoes, and then proceeding to eat shit in the middle of a busy road because I couldn’t get my foot off the pedal in time to catch myself. A very concerned homeless man wheeled his shopping cart by me with a little “Whoa- is you ok? Got a dolla?” I love San Diego.

In said accident, I had landed on my elbow, drawn blood and was convinced it was broken. I knew I had at the very least cracked off my elbow bone and it was now floating around in my arm, which in turn would then become infected because of the extra bone mass all up in there, then I’d get a growth or gangrene or something and eventually have to have it amputated. But that surgery would have to be performed in the back ally of my apartment by the other homeless gentleman who explained to me yesterday that he has a masters degree in Chemical Engineering. Yea, right. Chemically engineering meth, maybe. Why don’t you chemically engineer yourself the rest of your missing teeth, sir?

Phew. Ok. So that’s where I find myself- uninsured and really only a few bad, rubber rent checks from spending all my time with the masters degree homeless man, who also told me to never milk a cow from the back. Probably a good tip considering if I got kicked I’d be screwed.  

Interview Shminterview

This post could be two sentences long:

1. I had an interview today. 

2. I was informed in the first four minutes of said interview that I am not qualified. 

That is exactly how the interview went. At least she didn't waste my time, which I do appreciate as I'm a very busy bee these days. And since I can't stand interviews it didn't bother me...

I just can't wrap my mind around the point of asking me dumb questions for a job that I hardly want. 70/30 that I would take it....oh, don't get it twisted; 30 that I even would take it. The one that always really gets me going is when interviewers ask for me to explain what my weaknesses are. The appropriate answer would be something along the lines of "Gosh, weaknesses? Hmm, I guess it would be that I just work too hard. Sometimes my co-workers just like me so much it becomes difficult in the work place because they just want to hug and cuddle me all day. Sometimes I find it a weakness that I add faster than a calculator or a computer. It's just not fair to technology that I'm so good with numbers" (HA- no, no I'm not, but sometimes I use that one just to impress people) 

But in all actuality, if I could answer honestly I'd say that my weakness is I am rarely to never on time. Mostly NEVER. I would like to tell one person, in just ONE interview that "if you hire me, I will never once, not one day I work here, be on time. Unless of course it's an accident or day-light savings and my iPhone alarm got all jammed up so I accidentally got up early." But this time around, she cut it short so I didn't have to make up any stupid answers that make me look worse than I  already do on paper. Which is hard to do since I only have about 3 years of real work experience and am so far from bilingual it's not funny. No es un chiste. <-- Translation: That is not a joke. Impressed? Si.

My last interview went slightly better. I got to round three and thought I had it in the bag, I mean, why would they invite me back three times? Two more times than I thought necessary, but I'm not CEO. Not yet, muhahaha.

I was wearing my best "I'm a serious professional" outfit and I'll admit, I looked damn good. I know what you're thinking and no, it didn't involve anything leather or feathers. At one point in the interview, the interviewer asked me what one of my pet-peeves was and without thinking I said "socks and sandals." Then I looked at her and my pea-brain realized she meant professional pet-peeves. I took a quick 30 seconds to think about how STUPID that question actually is, then I replied sheepishly "um....professionally though, um...rude...rude people. People who are rude. Rude stuff that people...just when people are rude." For some reason I left that interview feeling really confident that I would not be getting an offer from that company.

Interviews suck. Yet here I sit hoping for more of them and one that eventually leads to a job. Gotta make that monay monay!

Oh PS- I don't have any money saving tips today- maybe just don't spend it. That'll save $$. And with that advice I may start looking into financial positions....

 I'll need to do a little more research on that, sorry fan(s) :)

Friday = Pay Day? Not here.

Captain's Log, Day 2: The crew is still unemployed and today on the schedule is a rousing line-up of "Everybody Loves Raymond" and "According to Jim." Both these shows make me want to get my brain sucked out, or get a real job. Toddlers and Tiaras, now there's a show I can get behind, you know! For anyone who has spent an extensive amount of time with me (and by 'anyone' I mean my bff and some unfortunate bar patrons in New Orleans) then you know I do a DEAD-ON impression of Eden Wood. Who is Eden Wood? If you don't know, then get. out. Seriously, don't read the rest of this post. NO I'M JUST KIDDING, DON'T LEEEAAVE.

Anyway, I'm going to add this to my resume: "Strengths: 26 year old dead ringer for Eden Wood (6 year old cutie-patootie pageant queen) with ability to blow a kiss, draw an air-heart and win over a crowd with my amazing dance moves" because it's pretty true. But what the f*ck am I talking about....this blog is mainly about being unemployed (which Eden Wood is definitely NOT) so I'll get back to what I know.

Today was another of those awesome days that make me think I'm actually, literally, living the dream. I woke up (duh) then took my doggy on a long hike that we both loved, then I met an employed friend for a 'ladies' lunch' which included a little bit o' food and a lot bit of booze. Unemployment has me on an emotional roller-coaster which gives me days like this, then days where I get so mentally jammed up about not having health insurance (I know, I know, shud up about it) that I stay in bed until 1pm, then walk the dog and go back to bed and fret about my car that doesn't have a working radio and sounds like an old timey motor car that you have to crank to start. Jealous? You should be. Oh ps- nice pay check.

Except for now I realize that my last errand of the day is dropping off my unemployment form to the Post Office. This is where things get schticky. I don't have an envelope OR a stamp. WHAT DO I DO? Gah...I could walk down there and get one from the Post Office, but then I don't even know if they're open on Friday at 4:45pm. Now my stress is building about this letter and I'll most likely open a bottle of wine and have an in-house happy hour just to forget about it. I did have a full day anyway- happy hour is just a reward. Good for me.

And lastly, my TGIF tip of the (Fri)day for all you Funemployed kids out there: Fleetwood is almost going under so they're giving out coupons for $2 beers on Fridays (and hopefully every day if they want to stay in bidness)! Also, Whiskey Girl has $3 drinks and half price apps. So...scoot scoot it's beerly legal to be at work past 5pm on a Friday anyway :)

Welcome!

Welcome to "Laid-Off." A blog by a cynical lady, floating through her twenties with no idea of what she wants to do and living off the state of California. <--Ah, thank you. Please hold all applause until the end.

No, that's all just jokes...well, except for the part about me being cynical. AND the part about me being in my twenties. Oh, and the part about me being unemployed and having NO idea what I want to do with my life. So, here I sit type-y typing this entry with an episode of 'Meet the Browns' on in the background. I'm sure if I were paying attention I'd want to change the channel, but as I've realized these past four months- daytime TV sucks. Although, if I were a big black man like Tyler Perry, maybe I'd have a better chance at being employed right now.

This all started when I got a taste of what I like to call "retirement." And yes, I did come up with that term on ma own, thanks for asking. I was in between jobs, but already had another lined up, so the month I had off was amazing. I tanned every day (I looked awesome and brown and about 6 years older than I really am) and read books and worked out. All I was missing was life on a yacht and actually knowing that I would never go back to work. That happened when I was 25. Too soon to retire you say? Then you must be my dad, and I know you're not, so lock it up.

I started my new job and quickly realized that working was definitely NOT for this girl. I did my best, and put in a lot of effort but I just didn't care. Didn't. Care. And when I say didn't care...I mean on Fridays I would take a two hour nap on my co-worker's couch. Then I'd take lunch after I was rested up. Also, one time I spent at least half of my day coloring. So...there you have it. They were lucky to have me. Oddly enough, I was promoted to a new team, given an awesome salary and a HUGE office. It was honestly like 'Office Space' where the less I cared the more they gave me. Then unlike that movie, they figured it out and laid my ass off. And here we are. Welcome to my life on unemployment!

I wanted to start this blog mainly because people keep telling me to write, but also because I seem to know a few secrets about Downtown San Diego that I wanted to share with everyone. I literally want the entire world to know these secrets- so listen up: If you check-in on Facebook while at Bubs in Downtown San Diego you get free tater-tots. If you check in on Yelp at Dragon's Den (again downtown) you get 20% off your entire bill. That's amazing savings for someone who gets an electronic payment once every two weeks! If you check in on Four-Square while at Red Pearl Kitchen you get a free app! Do it! Do it! Check-in, dummies!

Anyway- back to 'Meet the Browns' and "applying" for jobs. Hopefully someone digs my resume out of that big cyber garbage can that is Monster/Careerbuilder/Fins/ZipRecruiter and wants to hire me. Maybe I'll check on openings at the circus...or try to be my best friend's personal assistant. That actually sounds awesome- Imma call her now and tell her why I'd be the best candidate for her open position. Hopefully she wants to hire me (and doesn't require a stupid cover letter)!