Job Searchin'

I am on the hunt.

Where can a college girl find paying work these days? Never mind one that's in her field of study. I just want a 9 to 5, ten dollar an hour employment, and please no field canvassing or nannying.

Is that too much to ask?

Goldpass dot com. This is the University website where employers seek young undergrads for work in specific markets. You post your resume, then search for jobs under categories like 'non-profits', 'horticulture', 'marketing'. Sounds easy enough. And it is, but here's the catch:

Most of the jobs are unpaid.

The cold hard cash part is absent. Zilch. Not happening. Black hole there.

"Come work for our company! You will learn super great job skills while working for a diverse company! We encourage you, young employee, to be a mobile global worker. Join our team! "

Category: unpaid internship. Blast.

So far I've applied to (count 'em) nine jobs in various fields, just cause they pay. I might be working for IBM Communications, or maybe I'll be an adviser for the College of Liberal Arts, or if I get really lucky, I'll be working for public radio. Who knows! This girl will take whatever she can get.

I just get the itching feeling that we student workers - who have years of job experience, not to mention schooling - are under appreciated.

Case in point: This morning, I had an interview for the Loft Literary Center. This is a place where writers can take classes, have conferences, bind books (seriously), and do their writer thing. I thought, hey, why not learn from the best?

So I email the internship director, send her my resume and show lots of enthusiasm. She sets up a meeting for this morning, 10am at the Loft. I come at my interview best and wait...and wait...and wait...

An hour later, she still hasn't shown up, so the receptionist tells me that we'll have to reschedule.

See what I mean?!

Ah well. That's life. And anyway, it's a beautiful day here! So I guess if jobs are my main complaint, I'm sitting very pretty.

Happy weekend!

Virtual reality

Well I don't know about you, but I spend an obscene amount of time on the internet.

Checking mail. Emailing coworkers and friends, family. Writing blogs. Reading blogs. Finding recipes. Getting directions. Reading homework. Doing homework. Listening to music.
And more, more, more.

This virtual reality has become our reality.

We rely on it for our livelihoods, for our entertainment, even for our social connections. Good or bad, I cannot honestly say -- I grew up in the computer age. Maybe those a generation back feel an ache for more human communication. I do, but it's a vague want, nothing I've ever touched.

I wish I knew life before dot com, that I relied more on a map than mapquest. But I don't.

So it made sense when, last Saturday, I found myself at a party full of people who had never met in real time. They were connected by an internet humor forum, created by the party's host, Skippy.

Skippy decided that St. Patrick's Day was the perfect time for his virtual pals to convene. As I was not a part of the forum, I felt slightly out of place. It was as if they were all in on some inside joke. A guy explained, "Even though we've never met, we all have this instant bond -- because we're connected by similar senses of humor."

And I got it.

I watched as they chatted, danced, drank green beer. Felt hope for the lost human connection in these nerdy guys laughing about comics. Thought, wow, they sure know how to bridge the technology gap. This is the way to do it.

Last Friday, I too felt an internet connection in real time. Had coffee with a fellow blogger. We share a strange intimacy that comes with telling deeply personal experiences semi-anonymously. The conversation flowed long and strong, which surprised me. I expected it awkward without the computer security blanket.

But it wasn't. We bridged our technology gap with ease.

This is, I think, something we computer heads should be doing more often. Real life. Chatting in a coffee shop and writing paper letters. Sure technology speeds things up, but the human connection is what we really need.

But it's just a potato!

"It is, until you add the butter and sour cream. That's where they get you..."


May I have a rant?

I am so sick and tired of the sky high beauty standards set for women. Makes me world weary. Of the must look good all the time or you're an anti-establishment hippie or a tomboy or you throw the insult. And the odd thing is, half the time I apply eyeliner, it is to fit in with the girls; not to impress the guys.

Why must we defeat ourselves?

And dieting! I understand the importance of a balanced diet with exercise to match, but advertisements for a photographed food diary? And exercises upon skin tightening creams upon micro mini skirts?

I am guilty. For years now - I am a size seven - I have tracked what I eat. Written down every breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Felt guilt for each spoonful of ice cream, for every second helping.

Is it for the boy coming over tonight?
No. It is for (and I wish I knew the answer).

Today at the library, I sat sneaking peaks at trashy magazines instead of doing homework. The number of emaciated teenagers seducing the page made me want to cry. Because I know that my sister looks at that and sees beauty. Sees a beauty that is not her, will never be her.

Beauty is skinny. And slim legged. With long shiny hair and thigh hugging jeans. Beauty wakes up wearing lip gloss and is satisfied with no bread all day long. Beauty is not me.*


*To be continued: time to get ready.
**In case anyone will be in town April 26th, I am helping to organize Minneapolis's Take Back the Night, which is a march-rally against violence against women.