Exhibit A: Oober rude PR rep from a local organization. He refused to grant me information and interviews that he gave to others, treats me like shi*, hung up on me once, oh and he thinks he’s cool cause he sold out, gave up on being a real journalist, and wound up writing press releases and covering corporate ass. I wonder what that feels like. He’s two clicks away from schlepping coffee like the office snack-bitch. 

(What I wish I’d said: Google yourself you bi-atch! See what comes up:  several “famous” people who share your name, and YOU AINT ONE OF EM, HA. You’re just mad that you wasted two decades on podunk news and only made it as far as PR for one of California’s most failed transit systems. Want a cookie, pat on the ass, pulitzer? 

Exhibit B: High profile attorney aka just a glorified ambulance chaser with a really cheap neck tie. You think you could get just a tad spruced up for the press conference buddy? Nope? Ok. He cut me off in the middle of our interview to ask if I watched the news. Well, I AM the news… and while I pay attention to it, I don’t stalk it, sleep with it or rely on it because I’M TRYING TO WRITE IT. Anyhow… he got pissed off and said I was asking a question that could be answered by going online, or watching T.V. (What I wish I’d said: REALLY? I hope to god I can relay that information to the family you’re representing you indignant POS. )

So I retorted. “Yes Mr. BLEEEEEP, I understand this gets a bit redundant, however, It is my job to represent the facts of this case as accurately as possible. I’m sure you can understand, you are after all a lawyer. I cannot plagiarize quotes and information from my counterparts…that would be about as air tight as if you were to base an entire argument on CNN.Com and Youtube videos. That wouldn’t hold in court now, would it? So I’m sure you can understand.”

He shut up and was pretty “polite” as far as ambulance chasing SOB money grubbing attorneys go. He even researched some of the things I asked him about and used it to form his criminal case, which he filed today.

(What I still wish I’d said) You’re welcome, ambulance chaser. Yes, I’m taking credit for that. No, I really don’t think you could have come up with those ideas on your own… not while you had your head that far up your own arse at least.

On the first day of the near fourth week of my interviewing and negotiating with them, I am told that the benefits, which were boasted in the initial job posting, do not exist. I went to their site this morning only to receive an error message stating that the posting had been removed by the user.

Fools Gold

 I wonder if it has anything to do with the fact that I left a voicemail with them stating that they were engaging in false advertising. Lucky for me I took a screen shot of the posting. I am usually wary of recruiters or recruiting agencies, but this particular company assured me that they weren’t recruiters that they were in fact the outsourced HR department for the company. I’ll give you a hint about the company…it is highly related to something that rhymes with schmorgage blending.

oooh, intimideratiming.

According to one border patrol website, an individual working at the San Diego border could make as much as 150k/year. My boyfriend says that one of the distinctions between middle class and upper elite/wealthy, is that the middle class talk about money, whereas the wealthy talk ideas. If I was sitting on my butt all day in San Diego watching for people the size of ants from some patrol tower……making 150k a year, I’d have plenty of room in my brain for ideas.

the guilt into anger. The people who wrote the algorithm that matched my UC Berkeley degree and experience with a job as a security guard should be tarred and feathered and then fried and served with waffles….

Some recent happenings have got me pondering the meaning of a JOB. Sociologists would argue that a job is defined by paramaters which, in one aspect or another, include some sort of material compensation, aka a salary. A career, however, as my sister would rightfully argue, entails the act of doing something, sometimes without material compensation, ex. Motherhood/child rearing, or as Schwartzenneger does, Governing without pay. I have been told so many times in the past few months not to doubt my own self worth because I am being productive yet it is not for pay…I recently started working, although unpaid, for a paper. I love it. I can’t get enough of it, I can’t wait for the weekends to be over so I can talk to new people and expand my base of contacts, learn new things about the trade, and write articles, even if it is about a local toaster club. I have the option, however, to work at a bank, for money, of course. There is no choice. Well, there is. My choice would be to stay at the paper and get offered a paid position. Unfortunately, I don’t have a choice. I have to take the paid position, i’m on borrowed time…although I live at home, i’m racking up a sort of debt in my brain. Even with the bank position, I won’t be able to take care of myself completely, but its a start. Working at the paper is a start in the direction that I want to go; working at the bank, however, is a start in the direction of financial stability. Unless I want to live in a tent and have flies following me around to interviews, I have to let my desire to be a writer take a back seat. Something i’m sure will be smiled upon by my peers, and my bank account.