Monday, April 30, 2012

There's something to be said for unbridled enthusiasm

I love it when I get someone spazzy emailing me.

I don't know why in particular this makes me happy ... perhaps it's because 95% of what I see is usually a combination of dull, snooze-olicious junk with a slight tinge of yelling and anger. So, to me, excited and spazzy is that extra 5% and quite frankly? It's like discovering there's a whole new color in the package of rainbow colored Skittles you just cracked open.

Secretly I think I get giddy about spazziness on paper because I know it will eventually be blog fodder.
That's just the plain Jane truth.

Take this dude named "Billy" for example.

Short back story with Billy is this: he had *slight* insurance office work experience under his belt, working for an established agent in a city 20 minutes away from us. I was interested in *possibly* interviewing him to see if he'd be a good fit for 2 separate agencies that were looking for my help with staffing placement. I knew he would be young (as I could figure it out from his resume) but his INCREDIBLE ENTHUSIASM took me by surprise.

I'll let Billy speak for himself though from here on out. This is his blow by blow email that landed directly in my inbox:

"Ms. Stephanie,

I am just ECSTATIC about your email! I do get excited over the littlest things though, my short life has taught me a lot of big lessons, as well as knowledge. I wanted to respond ASAP to you because I am extremely interested in the position and would be honored to meet, speak, shake your hand, show off my skills, why, I'll even do cartwheels!! I will get my resume at my house ASAP and send it to you by day's end.

I wish I could be more specific on time, but I have two appointments today and not sure how long one will take, it being open-ended and all. I wanted to be curteous and aknowledge your email ASAP. I look forward to meeting and speaking with you. And shaking your hand. Oh, I prefer black not blue pens, so I would prefer that color of pen when I get my desk. If i can choose a brand, Mont Blanc is prefered but will settle for a Sensa. LOL!

Have a wonderful day! You can email me back or you can call me on my cell phone (805-555-1212). Please leave a message after the beep should you call and I am unable to answer. Once again many thank yous for the email. I can't wait to shake your hand!

Billy"

LMFAO!


P.S. Anyone else creeped out by his compulsory want to shake my hand?

P.P.S. 10 points if you caught the Seinfeld Billy Mumphrey Unbridled Enthusiasm theme I very non-subtly wove into this posting. Don't know what I'm talking about? Spend some time familiarizing yourself with one of THE best shows on television EVAH: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QGxPLws7PCo
(Billy Mumphrey reference at approximately 57 seconds in. But you have to see the entire episode to really appreciate the humor in this epic show.)

P.P.P.S. If you're wondering if I called Billy, why yes, yes I did. He couldn't, however, get his shit together and call me back. After all that! So cheers to Billy for providing us with some excellent entertainment. A clink of the glass all around in honor of Billy!

P.P.P.P.S. Yes it's late as I'm writing this and yes, I've had some wine. Thus the clink of the glass reference.

P.P.P.P.P.S. Don't get judgey.

P.P.P.P.P.P.S. How many damn "P"s can one use in a PS run? Anyone? Bueller?



Friday, April 20, 2012

A Recap of Random Stupidity (plus notes on how NOT to recover from surgery!)

Hello there!
I'm back in the blogosphere, thought it was time I popped my little head in to say hello and throw around some resume humor.

How's everyone been these past few days?

This has been my final week of recovering at home after my surgery where I had some "parts" removed. I'm on week 2 since the big day, but have to return to work on Monday, even though my doc has repeatedly warned me against it. But a girl's gotta work, and (unfortunately) can only do so virtually without losing her job for so long. (Insert motions of Tiny Tim playing the mini violin on your shoulder here ____________. For those of you that are too young to know what the hell I'm talking about, here's a YouTube clip that might just be more your speed, where Mr. Krabs is demonstrating what I mean here. )

Anyhoo- even though this isn't my first time at the rodeo surgery-wise, I've learned some things about recovering and have compiled this handy dandy list for you to keep in mind, should you find yourself in a similar situation:

1. Don't attempt to do even a quarter of what you would normally do. I know this may seem lame or too obvious to be pointing out, but trust me on this, just take off the Superwoman/Superman cape and keep it in it's glass case until you're fully recovered.


I learned this the hard way and got a partial lecture from the doc my first week out.

The jist of it went something like: "If you don't slow down and take it easy, all your other organs located around the surgery site could collapse in at a most unexpected moment, and then we'll have to do much MORE major surgery down the road when you don't want to interrupt your life. Kapeesh?"
(Okay, she is a tiny, beautiful little Puerto Rican thing and didn't say Kapeesh, but if she was Italian, I'm sure she would have. Also- for those of you that like to email me and take me to task on spelling errors- yes I KNOW that Kapeesh is actually correctly spelled capisci. But most people don't know that and thus the need to use a different version. So you can back off meaners!)



Ahem.
On to #2!

2. Don't order up a lot of comedies off Netflix. Comedies = laughing and laughing = hurting stitches. To be noted in case you ignore Rule #2- get a pillow and hold it tightly on your parts that jiggle when you feel the need to chuckle. Or sneeze. Sneezing SUCKS.



3. Don't watch or listen to anything sappy and/or emotional. Anesthesia apparently induces depression in some folk, to the point where you might be slobber crying over a stupid Richard Marx song that reminds you of a boyfriend past when you would normally just say "That shit sucks" and quickly change the channel and/or station.
(Yesterday was my crying day, and let me tell you, it wasn't pretty. The cats were considering calling 911.)



4. Don't expect your Draw Something and Words with Friends scores to improve while hopped up on narcotics. Yes, you may have more time on your hands, but more time, coupled with narcotics, does NOT equal a higher IQ or game score. As a matter of fact, I think it's important to tell you upfront that your ability to kick ass in these games drops. Considerably.


(This? Is pretty cool. This? I did not draw. Not at all.)


5. Don't isolate yourself too much. Yeah, you're gonna have moments when people are driving you crazy and trying to do TOO much for you and in your head you'll be all like "Just leave me the EFF ALONE!" because you want some peace and just want to rest. But don't go for a long run of days without seeing friends or family for 12 hour stretches at a time. It can possibly result in you talking to teddy bears that used to belong to deceased loved ones and resorting, once again, to #3.



6. Don't remain completely sedentary. Try to take yourself on little walks around the block like a 3 year old. You will look more like an 82 year old at the pace you can probably keep, and your stitches and insides will hurt when you return, despite how slow you've forced yourself to go, but it will be worth it. Your attempt at clawing your way out of Pathetic Land will pay off. Just remember to look both ways when crossing the street.



7. Don't over do on the sweets. People usually go one of 3 ways when giving "recovery" gifts to a friend or family member: flowers, reading material, or candy. Just because there is an entire box of beautiful truffles, a lovely tray of Oreo cookies, a box of Skittles, a box of Whoppers, and a box of Junior Mints on your nightstand, this does NOT mean you need to eat all of them within 2-3 days time. Just sayin.




8. Don't forget to have tissues nearby for when you attempt to put your "real" clothes back on, as this will make you cry. Transitioning from "surgery recovery gear" to normal clothes will be traumatic. I guarantee it. Jeans will require an extra box of tissues. Especially if you didn't pay very close attention to rule #7.



9. Don't get frustrated with your pets. Even though it makes no sense to you why in the world they feel the need to lick a hole in your hand to take care of you or why they think they need to continually walk all over your wounded body parts, don't get upset with them. They do these odd behaviors out of sincere concern for your well being.



10. And last but not least- don't get uber pissy with your loved ones. Just because they bark at you when you attempt to bend over and pick up a feather off the floor, or they tell you to "settle" one too many times, still love them. They mean well and just want you to recover faster so you can stop annoying the hell out of them with all your demands.



Alright! So now you've got your list, just in case you need it!

Onto the resume humor!

My virtual work week seemed to be an odd hodgepodge of random stupidity. Lots of little things I noticed here and there that just stuck out and bugged me right away ... fortunately for you my little blog reading chickadees, I kept them in a nice neat pile on my desk for a post such as this!

So here they are, in all their glory!

"My choisen trade is Heating, Ventalation, Air condisioning, and Refrigeration Technision."
This was in a cover note to me. The question is, WHY??



"My name is Eliot. And I'm looking for a steady job. You may look at my resume and think that I have moved around a lot. Truth is I have. But truth also is, I'd like to stop."

BAHAHAHAHA!!



"I like schedule the time. thank you."


This is the 2nd person I've had say this to me. You are fond of scheduling time you say? Then you need a different job than the one I'm offering. 

"I have Golobal directlly Experience since 10(Ten) year."
What? Just, what?

"My number has changed. Please make a note of it. 
I will update my rusume soon."

Well said Napoleon, well said. 

"At this time I'm looking for work in the property management field. But I do have all the qualities you recuested. I just can't make up my mind."

Why are you bothering to contact me then? 




"As appealing as a job sounds, I would love to be convinced out of the fear."

Fear? Fear of what? Putting a sentence together correctly??



"I'm interested in your job posting but am heading in another direction. Presently, however, I'm heading in a different direction."

You said that. Twice. I don't think you know where the eff you are heading. Somebody get this one a GPS!!



"I'm poor and unemployed. I need a job like NOW. Contact me if you are interested in paying me for my services."


Sorry cupcake, but with a shitty attitude like that? Not a chance.


"It's defiantly safe to say I know the ABC's of sales... ALWAYS BE CLOSING. You know that saying right???"

I would have to defiantly say that yes, I'm familiar with that phrase. Although I've come up with my own to apply to candidates such as yourself and it's called "ABS" which stands for ALWAYS BE SHREDDING.


(I seriously NEED one of these size shredders. I started salivating when I found the pic of it online.)

And there you have it folks!
My virtual work week's compilation of Random Stupidity.

Thanks for stopping by!
Peace out.



Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Let's go to the fair!

Anyone feel like going to your local fair? 


The next time you get on one of those questionably constructed fair rides with your loved ones



or eat some mahvelous fair type food


keep THIS wonderful resume in mind:

"I only had worked with my aunt for 1 year, and I worked at the Ohio State Fair in 2003 for an month. they both was just an summer job."


I guess that settles it, I'm officially crossing "Ohio State Fair" off my bucket list. 
Damn.












Monday, April 16, 2012

I prefer not to have to move...

Happy Monday everybody!
Back to the resume silliness!
I've been working virtually for my "normal" job for about a week now, so fortunately I still have access to the stupidity that doth maketh everyone laugh. Truth be told, I feel I must confess a little secret: I also have an entire drawer full of senselessness that more than likely makes up an entire YEAR of blog postings (no joke) so nobody panic! The material is overflowing like an angry volcano.

Today's example of resume absurdity is brought to you by "Ronald".

Ronald didn't really have a resume. 
Or at least he was fooling himself into thinking he did when he put together 6 sentences and called it a day.

Here's what Ronald submitted to me, I'm assuming expecting me to scramble for the phone and call him:

Summary: Over 25 yeas Restaurant Anagemnt experience. Looking for a career in anything that doesn't have to do with restaurants.
Objective: Restuarant Manager
Employer: _____________, Santa Baraba, CA
Duties: General Anager: responsible for total operations and profitibility of a full servie multi million dollar causual dining restaurant and bar.
Skills: FAUILURE IS NOT AN OPTION, PILOTS LICNESED.
Additional comments: Perfer to stay in area.


Okay, so wait just a cotton pickin' minute, hold on now.
There are so many things to rip apart here, I hardly know where to start.

First of all, Ronald, I can't believe anybody would let you a) get your pilot's license and b) be the manager of a restaurant. Oh sorry, I meant pilot's "licnese" and be the "Anager" of a "restuarant". (For the record, Ronald, your spelling errors are so atrocious, even my 13 year old bristled when she saw your boo-boos on paper.)

Secondly, if you are trying to get out of the restaurant business (as your summary states) then why did you put on the next line down that you have an objective of BECOMING A RESTAURANT MANAGER? 
Could you be any more stupid, contradictory, or schizophrenic?
Wait, don't answer that. You probably could if you just applied yourself. 
Because after all, to use your brilliant choice of words, "FAUILURE IS NOT AN OPTION".

And where is Santa Baraba anyway? I've never heard of the place, is it nice?
I sure hope so, considering the fact that you prefer not to relocate. 

I do have to speak candidly here however, and tell you I don't think you will have to worry about being relocated Ronald, considering your resume is one of the most pathetic I've ever seen. 
There's a 99% chance you're not going anywhere bud. 
Just keep those moving boxes in the attic and be grateful you're employed at all as there are MANY MORE talented people waiting in the wings that deserve your job a LOT more than you do. 

Gah.




Friday, April 13, 2012

Today's message: Don't Give Up Hope!

Today is my 143rd blog posting.
Hard to believe it since I only started this craziness back in October of 2011.
But my blog stats don't lie man... we'z at the big 1 four threeeee.

So I know 143 is a totally random number, but what the hell, let's have a little stat party here, shall we?

For those of you that don't write blogs and quite frankly have no idea what the heck I'm talking about, your stats track everything about your blog:

Pageviews achieved by all the different kinds of operating systems such as Windows, Mac, iphone, Blackberry, Android etc...

Pageviews achieved by all the different kinds of browsers available such as Chrome, Firefox, Internet Explorer etc...

And of course pageviews by countries.

I've hit 19,940 views overall since I began this shindig, and am being read in more countries than I can keep track of or even, (embarrassingly enough), pronounce. Aside from Canada and the U.S., Best. Resume. Ever. is still most popular in Russia, Turkey and Australia.
Who knew there was such a need for resume knowledge in Turkey? I sure didn't.

All that being said, I seriously cannot believe you people read this shit.

I mean really here. NINETEEN THOUSAND, NINE HUNDRED AND FORTY VIEWS? AND NONE OF THEM MINE? (I double checked LOL). Wow!
Thanks for hanging around and finding some kind of value, or humor, or just will to see the train that's been barreling down the tracks at a high rate of speed for so long, finally crash.
Whatever the draw is, I appreciate you being a reader.

I'm normally much more "blog producing" during the week so I apologize for lacking in my attention to my resume-making-fun-of baby this week. Apparently having body parts removed is tougher than I originally thought, so my typical "Super Woman" behavior that I normally carry on with got me in a little bit of hot water yesterday with my doc. The fact that I've been working virtually all week for my normal job, working on my new resume business at night, helping escrow to finally close on a family property (THIS COMING MONDAY!) and doing a little bit too much ironing didn't impress my doctor, but instead, landed me straight in the dog house. She pretty much forbid me to go back to work (physically) as fast as I had intended, and wants me to just REST.
Heh.
Those that know me well know that this is like a prison sentence to me, and I shiver to think what she would have done to me should I have mentioned the fact that I attempted to clean the 4000' house we live in right before my appointment with her. (Probably would have readmitted me to the hospital just so people could keep an eye on me.)

All joking aside, once she explained in more detail what she did to me in the operating room, I realized I better actually heed her advice and put the brakes on or I'm going to be in a world of hurt like she keeps threatening. So I'm writing this post, IN BED, not sitting up in my craft room/office where I normally do. I'm practically LAYING DOWN, can barely type, and am not sure any of this is going to turn out in a coherent fashion.

So now - I promised you guys a hospital story from my stay, so here it comes!

My operation recovery took place in this semi-swanky establishment affectionately known around these parts as "TOSH" which doesn't stand for the TV show Tosh.O, but instead means "Thousand Oaks Surgical Hospital". Now, I've been operated on at this lovely institution before (yes, I have too many operations), but only for an outpatient event. I was hoping my longer stay would be just as good as my outpatient time I had spent as the nurses seemed supreme. Cream of the crop. Like they really did their homework when hiring for their spiffy pad.

For the most part, the staff did not disappoint. Well, that is, with the exception of Jose.
But I'm getting ahead of myself here.
Let me set the stage first.

I got my own beautiful room, which was really like a hotel suite, including a fold out bed for my poor sweet husband who could have just gone home but chose to stay and help me throughout my first awful night with my necessary blood transfusions and multiple fights with the portable IV tree they hung from. There were 3 nurses on each 12 hour shift, and they were always good about coming in and introducing themselves, writing their names on the board to my left and showing me the call button set up for the 400th time.

I was there for a few days, so I had a lot of nurses. Most of them female, but at times, I had a few males rotating in and out. My surgery took place in my mid-drift, but regardless the kind of surgery, they just seem to put everybody, all nek-kid, in that thin, hideous, pale blue and plaid hospital gown and call it good. I guess they just want easy access all the time?  That's SO annoying, and not what I want.

Not a one of them seemed to appreciate the fact that I managed (with one hand only as the other was attached to my IV/drug tree) to bundle myself up with my blankets like a caterpillar trying to turn herself into a beautiful butterfly in my silky, white cotton cocoon. They fought to unwrap me every time they'd come in to check my vitals and push on my tummy and check my wounds and make me scream, but the second they'd walk out my door, I'd re-wrap myself again.

And then there was Jose.
Toward the end of my hospital stay, a short little Hispanic man in his late twenties came in and introduced himself as Jose. He stood over my bed and said he'd like to check on my "nether regions" but said I had a legal right to say no, I'd prefer a female. I glanced at the wipe erase board again and could see 2 other female names written up there for the same shift he was on, so I saw no point in Jose seeing my who-ha and declared my intent to stay tightly wrapped in his presence.
Jose didn't seem to like this very much.
While it's possible he just doesn't take well to rejection by females in general, in a very hostile fashion he immediately turned around and wrote "VITALS ONLY" next to his name on the wipe erase board, and then underlined each word about 17 times for dramatic emphasis.

After leaving in a huff, Jose would come back less often than the other nurses, perhaps only because he was forced to by state law, to make sure I was still alive. He didn't speak to me at all, never asked me how I was or what my pain was on a scale of 1-10, or even to see if my dry mouth desired some ice chips. Nope, Jose just jotted down notes on a clipboard and marched out of the room.

So imagine his surprise when I went with a female nurse on my first official "can she walk around the 2nd floor of the hospital without collapsing in pain or fainting from all the narcotics we've been pumping her with" and I flashed the ENTIRE group of nurses, AND patients, AND floating around family members. Everyone that is except for Jose. He had his back to me at the nurses station and missed the entire show- he had heard the ruckus and turned around just as the nurse had straightened out my little blue ribbon mess that had me utterly confused. (I swear those hospital gown makers do that crap on purpose...how do they expect people in pain or on drugs to figure that shit out? I mean COME ON.)
I was naturally  mortified that everyone got to see my who-ha in my fancy white fish net panties they give you to wear (again, WHY do they create this crap? Is this some kind of conspiracy??) but Jose was REALLY UBER PISSED THAT HE MISSED IT ALL, YET AGAIN. You could see it on his face, first crestfallen, then just MAD.
And to further prove to me that he was angry this went down, he refused to come back to my room at all for the rest of my stay and instead, just made a lot of slamming noises right outside my door on purpose.
How mature.

But then there's mature me, who was singing in my head as my female nurses came in to check on me:
Denied, denied, DENIED!

Sorry Jose, but the hospital gown gods were sort of on my side, if only a smidge.
You never know, maybe some other chick will feel inclined to share her goodies with you.
Could happen right?
Keep on hopin'!




Thanks again for helping me hit the big 143!
I'll get back to the resume humor on Monday my peeps. In the meantime, if you'll excuse me, I think I need a nap.
Peace out!

Monday, April 9, 2012

Oh I don't wanna... please don't make me read your resume!!

Happy Monday my peeps!

I'm sorry for my brief disappearance.
I can basically sum up my very long week I was MIA by telling you that I was in the hospital having some body parts removed, and some emergency transfusions before and after said body parts were removed, and we'll leave it at that. I've got a good hospital story to share, but I'll save that for later in the week!

On a side note, I appreciate all of you that privately emailed me to point out that I was neglecting my duties to amuse and distract you from your normal life. That means more to me than you'll ever know.

In the meantime, I'll be recuperating in bed for a bit, so I'm back to entertain you now aren't I?

Let's get started!

The following are real life excerpts that I got in my real life inbox at work last week, before I was cut into.
These were messages that accompanied resumes that I, quite frankly, had NO interest in reading once I read these fabulous messages.

"hello. thank you for reading my rseme. please shecdule my interview. please let me know. what time you've scheduled it for. and tell me whats are the hourly or salary paid."


Uh, no thanks, I think I'll pass.

"I am expert level in Micro soft word."



I'm sorry, but if you're putting "Micro soft word" on your resume, you're probably not the expert you claim to be. 

"I'm in-tress in sales."


WTF?


"What is your cell phone number?"



Why would you ask such a thing? There are 7 other office phone numbers available. Did you think I was going to go hook up with you at a bar later or something? Give me a break.

"i would love to pursue a career opportunity as an advisor. by the way i currently dont have a phone the number on my resume is a family members that i see offten so i can be reached from my email day and night i look forward to going to my intervew!!"


OMG. Just OMG.

"My career plan overall is to help people out and be know for that as-wel. As life has passed me by, i have seen people become successful & some go in the opposite direction. With the movitivation that is in me, I want to be konwn as some one who has made change & has earned his position in being successful."

m-o-v-i-t-i-v-a-t-i-o-n ?
k-o-n-w-n?
as-wel?



And really, what the heck does any of that even mean?

"I am very interested in the job position here is my resent resume."



Resent? Like you've sent it to me before? Or you just had amnesia for the moment on how to spell recent?

"In this economic recession. lots of people get laid off very often."



Huh. Ya don't say.
That one didn't even have a resume attached. So I guess it's just some dimwit's version of a profound societal observation.


I don't get people. I really don't.
Not even in my hopped-up-on-narcotics state do I understand any of this. I was hoping the drugs might help me, but no...I can't seem to dumb myself down enough.
So I guess I'll just keep poppin' my pills and licking my wounds.
In the meantime, cheers to loopiness!
And just so I cover myself with all the necessary safety disclaimers, ONLY when loopiness is called for, like after major surgery, NOT while job searching PEOPLE!


Peace out my peeps!