Just call me Girl Interrupted... a typical Sunday afternoon for Steph

Setting: My house, mid-day on a cloudy Sunday.

Me: Trying to work on a resume order in my office, which happens to be in the front of the house and doesn't have a door to close. (Need for door? Noted.)

Me in head: Okay! Going to attack Corrina's resume now. I promised it done by tomorrow morning, I've got to get on this. I'm less than half way done.

Pull open previously saved Word doc... rearrange and adjust brain to car dealership verbiage...

TV in living room flips on. Look up to see teenage daughter plopped on couch 50' away with a mug full of dry Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Me: "Try to keep it down hun. I'm trying to concentrate on an order."
Daughter: "Okay!"

TV: "Cam STOP!"
Oh gawd.
She's watching Modern Family. I haven't seen it yet. I really want to see that episode.

"Is that a Bulldog sweatshirt I see?"
Oh gawd.
I hear Matthew Broderick's voice. Really want to watch.
Must. 
Concentrate.

Car dealerships... car dealerships... 

Drier buzzes.
I should get that. I need to transfer laundry.

7 minutes later:
Car dealerships... car dealerships...

Ring!
Oh goody, an incoming phone call. I have to take it. It's from a contractor we've been waiting to get a bid from.

6 minutes later:
WWF message pops up.
Must check.
What's that you say? You're out of vowels? I SO can't concentrate on your vowel-lacking issues right now but MAN I totally want to.
Don't answer Stephanie Sue, just put the phone down...

"Squeee! Squeee!"
Me: "Beck! The pig needs food! Please go feed her."
Daughter: "Okay, but hold on, this is funny!"

Me: Sigh.
Car dealerships... car dealerships...

Incoming message alert from resume inbox:
"Hello Stephanie... you did my resume earlier this year and my entire hard drive crashed on my computer. Would you mind sending it all to me again? Thanks so much."
Okay, commence assisting client...

10 minutes later:
Car dealerships... car dealerships...

Daughter in between loud crunching on dry cereal: "Bahahahaha!!"
Me: "What now? Are you still watching Modern Family? And why must you laugh out loud when you know I can't watch it yet??"

Daughter: "I'm not watching Modern Family anymore. Now I'm watching the neighbors."

Daughter: "Clarification: I'm not watching our ACTUAL neighbors, I'm watching "The Neighbors". Cuz if I was watching our ACTUAL neighbors, that would be kinda creepy."

Noted.

Car dealerships... car dealerships...

Phone: Chirp!
Incoming text message from agent at work:
"What's the 800 # for service help?"

Why does he need to know this? It's SUNDAY FOR CRYING OUT LOUD. THE SERVICE CENTER ISN'T EVEN OPEN."

Me back via text: "1-800-555-5555 don't bother trying until tomorrow"
Stupid people.

Husband walks in and plops himself down on a chair in the office next to me: "What's the highest I'm allowed to bid on my motorcycle? I need a number."
Me: "TWO DOLLARS"
Husband: "Very funny. No really, I need a number."

Gawd this resume really isn't getting done. 

Commence discussion over fantastic motorcycle of the week he's been obsessing on and driving me batty about...

4 minutes later:
Car dealerships... car dealerships...

Gawd my shoulder blades are KILLING ME. I really need to lay down. But I can't. I have to get this done.

Husband, back in office again. Standing behind me vigorously shaking a can of spray paint right by my head while handing me a different can "What do you think of this color for the lamp I'm creating for us?"

Me: "It's lovely dear. Can you go shake that somewhere else?" accompanied by my best version of a death glare.

Husband: "What? You're just sitting there. You should go do some laundry or something."

Me: Ramped up death glare with additional teeth gritting for *extra persuasiveness*.

Phone: Chirp!
Text message from family member: "I had an awful night at work, I came home late crying. Can you help me with my resume?"
Me back: "Of course. And call me later to discuss. I'm sorry :0("

Car dealerships... car dealerships...

Email alert:
Daily mother-in-law email regarding Northern California weather report I totally don't care about. Must not answer now. Note to self: do that later.

Hanging with friends alert!
"Good luck solving THAT one. I'm tired of you winning me!"
Pffft. Totally want to answer that but MUST RESIST.

Car dealerships... car dealerships...

Oh my gawd my hair hurts. I have to take this pony tail out.
And I'm hungry. I should really eat something.
Ooo! I know, I should have left overs from last night's dinner out. OOOOO! And I get to eat on our new dining room set! Squeeeee!!

Up from my chair, passing by dining room, wait. Hold up. Who the HELL put shit all over the new table? What is it about our house and an empty table or surface being like a magnet for miscellaneous CRAP to land all over it? I HATE THAT! And this stuff? Has my husband's name all over it.

Husband was here.

Day before- husband was NOT here yet. See the difference?

Well shit, now I have to clean it off so I have a place to sit. First, let me re-heat my yumminess in the microwave.

Two minutes later, cleaning off table while grumbling: Boom! 
Oopsies, I think I got a bit over zealous with the time needed to reheat. 

3 minutes later... eating.
Husband comes and sits at the table with me and stares at me and my food. Longingly.

Sigh.

Finishing eating, rinse off dish in sink. The dishes really need to be put away. I should really put the dishes away. NO. I have to finish Corrina's resume!!!

Patter back to office, only to find this:

"I think your computer needs some love mom. Let me just rub myself all over it to give you some good resume mojo. I think that's what you've been missing mom."

"Tasha! Get down huney. I don't need your help this afternoon, thank you."

"No, I'm good. I think I'll just stay thank you."

Sigh.
Cat scampers out of room leaving wake of destruction in her path.

Car dealerships... car dealerships...

Poking in my back.
"Mom, I'm hungry."
Me: "Rebekah Anne! You just ATE! And go fix your own food."
Daughter: "But what do we have?"
Me: "What do you want?"
Daughter: "Nothing we have."
Me: "This game we play is fun. I'd really miss it if we didn't play it every day."

Obnoxious car honking and police sirens start blaring on freeway.
Drier buzzes.

Okay. 
I give up. 
I'll just do it in the middle of the night like I usually do.

Family/TV/phone/games/emails/pets/freeway = 1
Steph = 0

(P.S. Captcha is gone my faithful blog reading chickadees... no more struggling when you want to comment!)

It's time for some show and tell!

The last few weeks have been phenomenally interesting to say the very least.

One of my blog reading chickadees emailed me to tell me she can't believe I actually get this kind of crap in my work inbox on a daily basis. This wasn't the first time somebody posed this type of question, and while I find it incredibly flattering that people think I have the kind of wherewith all and *creativity* to make this shit up (as if!) I decided maybe it's time for a little show and tell.

I decided to take pictures to PROVE that I'm not making this crap up. 

So guess what? 

Today's posting is complete with pictures to help "aid" in my story telling adventure.

First off, my Monday last week started off with full blown Monday-like shenanigans. 

The dumb-ass cleaning crew my boss has had on the payroll for 15+ years continued with their usual inane dickery of moving shit around and not putting it back where it belongs. It's their favoritist trick, the "moving of things". Nothing is ever where it is supposed to be, OR where you left it, which is oh, I DUNNO, probably WHERE YOU WANTED IT TO STAY PUT. It's like going on an Easter egg hunt to find your personal possessions every Monday morning, only THERE ARE NO BUNNIES OR CANDY-INDUCED HAPPINESS. 

I find this particularly offensive as I used to own and run a cleaning company back in the dark ages in Northern Nevada. And I tell you what, if I ever had the NERVE to set a picture frame back down in the wrong spot, my fussy customers would come UNHINGED and leave me a nasty note for our following return visit indicating such debauchery was HIGHLY UNACCEPTABLE. So the fact that they get away with it on a weekly basis, freakin' PISSES ME OFF.

Last Monday though, I was madder than a wet hen as they'd somehow managed to drop my desk calendar down behind my desk and I was damned determined I was going to get it back. 

Here's a pic of my very important calendar I shopped 3 office supply stores to get so you have an idea what I'm talking about. It's one of the few you can find on the planet that stands on one's desk as I'm technically not allowed to put holes in the wall at work (yes, we're a little on the anally retentive side...):

Here's the hole they shoved it off into, dropping it half way down the wall:

Said hole runs maybe a full 1.5" in width, making it exceptionally challenging for me to retrieve my cherished, scribbled-upon prized possession. I naturally did not let this deter me, however, as I grabbed my trusty $8000 Huntington Learning Center green plastic ruler and went to town. (Yes, that is what I have to show for the 8 grand we dropped on the kid one year for tutoring. A plastic green ruler. That and some A's and B's on her report cards and some extra brain cells rattling around in her noggin'.) 

A few minutes of struggling later, I'd managed to stick the ruler through it, scoop it up and fling it up the wall, catching it with my left hand. Only problem was, I suddenly couldn't get my right hand unstuck from the space. I don't have very large wrists, but after all the frantic activity and pressure not to drop the $4 calendar and $8000 ruler all the way to the floor, I must have swollen up something fierce. 

So there I am, panicking like a dog with it's head stuck between the bars on a rod iron gate after it finally figures out how to get it's head through to get the tasty looking cat on the other side of the yard. I'm by myself (as on most days I'm usually the first one there), I've got a 300 lb. desk keeping my hand locked against the wall and I'm starting to get all worked up into a full blown bitch panic. My cell phone is within reach of my left hand but I started thinking "Just who the HELL do I think I'd be calling to come "rescue" me? The only people that have a key to this place are 30 minutes out, minimum. I'm totally fucked." 

So I plopped myself on my desk (as I couldn't sit down in my actual chair at the angle I was stuck in) and sat there staring at the retina burning, goldenrod-colored wall in disbelief. 
"Fuck you Monday," I said out loud, which reverberated down the hall into nothingness.

Then suddenly getting pissed off, I yanked my hand out as if the building was I fire and I was gonna go down with it.

I think I should have filed a worker's comp claim considering I'm in the right spot and all, working at an insurance company, don't you? My wrist was swollen, cut, and bright red for about 7 more hours. I tried to "man up" about it, but really, I HATE that cleaning crew. Damn inconsiderate douchecanoes.

So now, on to the next set of pics. As you can imagine, my day did not improve from there on out... shocker!
Here are some of the lovely things I snapped pics of to show you, my faithful readers that no, in fact, I do not have the cojones to make this shit up.

This high-powered exec decided to send his resume in the font of a 5 year old:

And then some engineering student decided I would need FOUR-FUCKING-TEEN PAGES of charts of every topic known to man that not only does NOT interest me, but has no bearing on the position he was applying for:

Next, this yay-who decided to YELL AT ME THROUGH HER RESUME WITH 42 PT. FONT:

Yes I changed her personal info. Although it would've been hella funny if she'd submitted it with "Name Here" on it, no?

By the end of that horrible day, I'd come to the awful realization that I still had a small stack of idiots to wade through... including this dude that I'm 99.9% sure made up his name just to fuck with me:

Jeff "Bras Well" Ummm really dude? Come. On.

So really, people astound me. If you're a job seeker reading my blog... PLEASE do NOT do anything I've listed here OR in any of the other 142 posts I've written. I beg of you. Us recruiter types and hiring managers you have come to loathe JUST CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE.

Until next time ... peace out my peeps!

Resumes on Halloween? You bet your sweet bippy!

I've been wracking my brain for about a week now, wanting to come up with something a little different for this charming day as let's face it, who can concentrate on normal life when there's so much damn candy around and people are dressed like lunatics?

So for show and tell today, I would like to share a couple of things with you that I thought were pretty spectacular.

First-  a picture that one of my girlfriends up in Dayton, Nevada (yo Malinda!) sent me. If you've never had the privilege of visiting Dayton, Nevada, you're really missing out. (That was sarcasm people. Are your sarcasm detectors broken because you've been eating too much sugar? Because you barely got that one. Sheesh!)

Anyhoo- below is a REAL picture that was snapped on a Virginia City Ghost Tour. The person taking the picture was in Malinda's group and all they thought they were doing was snapping a picture of a mirror. What they found later after browsing through all the pictures they took during the evening was a little oh, how shall we say? Unsettling. 

Here is the picture- setting is an 1800's building that was originally a hospital, now they hold art classes there- sign me up for those classes!

So tell me- what do you see here? 

A young boy? 

A woman in an old fashioned dress with a bun on top of her head?

Or a man with a hat on? 

The opinions have been varied of course, and who the heck really knows anyways?

Here's another pic, this one is from my fearless co-worker Tammy who is being awesome and allowing me to share as it's kinda personal in a weird sort of way.

The photo was taken from her living room, looking out towards their back yard patio. The figure matches the exact silhouette of her deceased mother-in-law. When they went to pull back the curtains to see who was standing on their patio, there was nobody there.
Can you say freaky man???


I thought that in honor of the holiday at hand, I'd have a little fun and create a resume for ghosts in general as I think they deserve to have their own, don't you?  So I present to you, possibly for the first time ever in the history of internet stupidity:

Resume of a Ghost

Objective: 

To get the hell out of this building I'm trapped in.

Special Skills: 

• Scaring the crap out of people
• Creating footstep and banging noises on as many hard surfaces as I can
• Slamming doors
• Distributing goose bumps
• Morphing into different sizes, shapes and shadows
• Changing room temps
• Showing up in as many people's photographs as possible by positioning myself across from every mirror in this God-forsaken building
• Speaking into new-fangled silver metallic boxes on cue

Extra special skill: 

If I concentrate really hard I can pick things up and throw them at people, or run a penny up a wall.

Goals: 

• To have my eyes show up accurately in a picture again
• To have a conversation with somebody besides myself
• To change my clothes
• To get new room mates
• To cause enough of a ruckus to have the TAPS team or Amy from Dead Files show up and investigate, then fool 'em and stay quiet in the corner until they leave

Hobbies:

• Avid people watcher
• Goosing small pets- making them appear to their owners that they've totally lost their marbles

Previous Work History:

• 1860's - ? It's been so long I don't remember

*And for those of you that even had the passing thought to get on my case about the fact that the ghost has an Objective listed on it's resume...because according to me and other resume gurus, Objectives are old-school right? So, um, yeah... exactly my case in point. Do you know anything more old-school than a ghost?

I didn't think so.

Anyways, thanks for stopping by and

Happy Halloween everybody!! 

Email Signatures. A How-(not) To Guide for Resume Making Dummies.

Ahh the email signature situation.

Usually a relatively neutral topic, but not when it comes to job hunting. 

I briefly covered this topic back in this post I wrote when I had to bring up the Bouncing Jesus crap, but I feel the need to delve into the topic a little bit further as they've been driving me NUTS lately.

Here is a list of the unfathomable, head-scratching, bumble-fuckery email sigs I've been receiving. Please keep in mind, these are NOT direct messages to me, these are the phrases permanently right underneath the candidates' names:

"The future depends on what you do with it"

"I like to get super social"

"Absense makes the heart grow funder"

"I'm full of sugar, sugar ;0)"

"Please like me on Facebook!"

"I'll be speaking to you soon, somehow."

"Ask my about my dog! Ruff!"

"This message is approved by ME"

"Sent by me, from my totally awesome phone"

"Mother + 1 bun in the oven, caffeine addicted super woman extraordinaire"

"Travel often down memory lane..."

"Never forget the power you have in life to affect yourself!"

"Change is so good."

"When you were born, the people around you smiled"

"Phone (818) 555-3456 (Monday thru Sunday only)"

"Show me the feet!'

"Faith and virginity above all else."

"(805) 237-5555 Parents home"

"Executive Assiatant"

"Liaison Expert Extraordinaire"

"People transformation is where it's at"

"Clerical Connuseur"

"When you need something in a blink, count on Fink" (last name was Finkelstein)

"I've got soul baby!"

And last but certainly not least:

"Use my global international number to rich me"

Now if you'll please excuse me, I have some drinking to do.

Peace out my peeps!

Oh Mr. Whipple, Let's Have a Conversation

This week has been hot baby (hot I tell you!) in regards to stupid job seeker behavior. I added to my folder with glee tonight when I came home and unloaded the last few days' worth of goodies to share with all my peeps.

But there was a certain conversation I had with a candidate on the phone today that stuck with me and sent me thinking about things rather "indepthly".

(I'm sure that isn't a word. And I'm sure somebody will email me to TELL ME that's not a word, but whatever. I'm still using it.)

This gentleman I called to chat with was like uber skilled in the industry I recruit for. Which (just for the record so you have some reference) is kind of rare.

He was also slightly full of himself.

We'll just call him Chuck.

Chuck told me I had proven myself "unique" while talking with him compared to all the "other" recruiters he'd been speaking to, and thus he apparently felt compelled to explore the possibility of gracing us with his talents. (In other words, a slightly pompous jackass was impressed by my shenanigans and ability to verbally spar with him on the phone for 7 minutes and decided my *uniqueness* (read: fruit loopy goodness?) was worth rewarding by coming in to interview with us.)

Big la-de-freakin'-da, right?
Right.

He did ask me though how long I'd been recruiting (almost 5 years) and how I got into it.
Heh.
Well that's another story for another day, but I told him the career just seemed to "gel" with my personality, and left it at that.

There is a back story however, and this is where that word "indepthly" comes up again.

Story time my little chickadees!

When I was little, I was extremely shy. *Gasp!*
(I know several of you, perhaps the entire handful of people that actually read this, are shocked!)
I'm talking shy beyond shy, like I would go hide under the table so people didn't dare see me or try to interact with me.

My mom, however, wasn't terribly shy, but perhaps more importantly, had "not so shy" friends that I was exposed to.

There was one incident I remember very distinctly that stuck with me over the years.
And that is the pivotal afternoon I went with mom to visit her sorority sister, Karen.

Dripping in diamonds, sporting the ridiculous long, fake eyelashes of the 70's, and constantly flipping her long, bleached blonde feathered hair back like the fabulous Breck girl on TV at the time (which can be seen here if you have NO idea what I'm talking about), Karen was a bit on the "extravagant" side. Going to visit her in her mansion full of Roman columns, white marble flooring, and groomed poodles larger-than-my-tiny-self always proved to be an adventure.

Setting aside her ability to flip her hair like Erin Gray, Karen had an uncanny ability to do 2 things exceptionally well : play the violin and talk to anybody about anything.

I remember driving away with mom after that particularly long gab-fest/coffee klatch I'd been forced to attend. I was maybe all of 4 or 5 years old and I had made a comment about how "there's only so many times I can throw that ratty tennis ball for Rocco mommy" before she launched into the various high points of her friend and her lifestyle. One thing I will never forget she listed was Karen's unique characteristic of being able to converse with anyone. She specifically said: "That woman could talk about toilet paper with somebody for hours on end if she had to."

Perhaps it was the image of toilet paper and my immediate association to the Mr. Whipple and the "Squeeze the Charmin" campaign that made this memory stick in the vault that was my little, impressionable mind.
But I never forgot that saying.

(Don't know who Mr. Whipple is?
Well you're about to get schooled: your second 70's/80's throwback lesson for the day.)

So now, all these years later, I'm no longer shy.
I've somehow come out of my shell.
Time frame on that would be sort of in high school but more than likely in college, when I became the President of my sorority. Being in front of 80 women will force ANYBODY out of their shell for sure. (Not to mention also teach them important life skills like how to sneak a guy through your bedroom window and how to suck down 4 Advil and drink a boat load of water when you're drunker than a skunk so you don't wake up with a hangover.)

So back to the point at hand: as Chuck so forcingly reminded me, I am a fairly decent recruiter.
I can now say with the utmost confidence, I can pretty much have a conversation about anything, with anyone.
Including toilet paper.

What's most ironic about this discussion this week is the fact that just the day before, I received an email from a chick that had apparently applied for MY recruiting job, had an interview set up with my boss and then cancelled at the last minute, way back in early 2008. I only know this because we use GoldMine, which can track the fact that somebody sneezed or had a bowel movement back in 2005, should you choose to be so gross and do so. (Note to all job seekers- yes, some companies track ALL of their interactions with you. Keep that in mind.)

I pulled up her resume to compare what she had sent me now, and discovered (with great disgust) it was the same exact damn thing.
She hadn't added anything to it.
And it actually went back to 2006- she hadn't even bothered to update it back in 2008 when she had tried to apply before.

I feel I need to clarify- she wasn't applying for MY job now, she was trying to work under one of our established agents.
In order to do that though, she has to first get past the gatekeeper (read: ME) to be considered for this type of position.
I knew I wasn't going to have her come in to interview, and figured in the back of my mind she's been a stay- at-home mommy (which is FINE but you stay-at-home mommy's NEED to put that on your resume) but regardless, I decided to have a little fun with her nonetheless because quite frankly, anybody that's going to let their resume sit for 6 years and not update it then send it out to the world? Deserves to be messed with. 

Here's what I emailed her:
Dear Alanna,
Thank you for submitting your resume for the job posting I have up on CareerBuilder right now for the position of _____________. I just went to put you into our system and it looks as if you'd already previously considered interviewing back in 2008, but cancelled at the last minute. We have your prior resume on hand as well and after comparing them, I noticed it looks exactly the same as the current one you just submitted. That leads me to the need to ask- what have you been doing career-wise since 2006? If you could fill me in on this, I would appreciate it.
Best regards,
Stephanie ________
Recruiting Director
for _________
etc etc

Here's what she wrote back- in all it's beautiful glory, punctuation, exact phrasing etc, left perfectly in tact for your enjoyment:

"ive been unemployed,going to collage as well as taking care of my children but its a long time since i've worked and always had jobs and always enjoyed working and always a hard worker.I know a long break and need highly to go back to work since being at work me very happy and whoel .i'm extremely  smart,kind,and hardworking.Thats why i've never had finding work.Where u located in simi too.i would love an interview with u."

Okay. There's so many things wrong with this, I don't even now where to start, so I don't think I will. I'll just let it sit and fester with y'all like it did me.

Oh alright, you guys know me, I can't help myself, I HAVE to say something, so I will say these 2 things: "extremely smart" my ASS
and
she ain't no Stephanie. My boss man dodged a MAJOR bullet there.
I'd place some pretty major money on the fact that she can't talk about no toilet paper for hours on end, wouldn't you?

Now go squeeze the Charmin!

It's Crazy Resume O'Clock!

It would seem as if most of my posts as of late have started out with "Sorry I've been gone so long..." etc. 

Alas, it is true once again, I've been gone a bit, and for that I hang my head in shame and humbly apologize to all my faithful readers. 

People have been actually emailing me and saying "WTH? Where did you go? Are you alive? I am worried." and so on. 
One reader even sent me this adorable pic she was so concerned:

(Thank you Miss T!)

You have no idea how happy it makes me when people are fretful that this ridiculous blog might forever be abandoned. 
It's truly flattering that I'm missed. 
So thanks to all of you that have been concerned and because of that, I feel as if I should explain what I've been up to. 

The truth is, it would seem as if I have an ax planted in the left side of my neck, or at least what feels like about half an ax tip, as I have a herniation in my neck that's driving me BATTY. 
I walk around feeling like a newborn infant in an extreme amount of pain, unable to hold her head up properly. (For the record, if I were actually a newborn, I'd be a newborn on crack, with colic and some serious teething issues.) 

If you've never had a herniation in your neck then really, you're missing out. It makes life oh, how shall I say...? 

Shitty.

That's the best adjective I can come up with. 

Things become "less funny" when you have a chronic pain health situation, so being a writer of "funny" (or so I've been told I am) makes things a little challenging. Fortunately I've been squirreling away the stupid resume examples I knew I would want to write about because *at some point* I figured I would get better and I'd actually be able to hold my head up without crying, wearing an ice pack around my neck like a scarf, or being hopped up on narcotics.

Seeing as how I have an extensive history with spine issues (including multiple back surgeries and a spinal fusion 7 years ago), I'm rather versed in what would need to go down to make me better. Just to be sure as to what was going on, I checked with my back and spine doc, who had me endure a 2 hour neck and spine MRI/CAT scan session that could have sent me into therapy just by itself. 

Don't believe me and think I'm being overly dramatic about an MRI session? Try not being allowed to swallow for 5-8 minutes at a time while being heavily nauseated from the contrast dye they injected in you because you're already riddled with metal, all the while being trapped inside a gigantic smelly tube with a mask 1" from your face... you start to get a little panicky while trying to convince yourself you're not going to drown in your own spit. 

The whole session was "tainted" by the fact that about 30 minutes in I realized I REALLY had to pee and they wouldn't let me because they said we'd have to start completely over (oh hell to the no!). What made it even worse (as if that were possible) was the fact that they were piping relaxing nature sounds through my headphones in an effort to try and calm me down... nature sounds with lots of rushing water. When I had to pee. IDIOTS.

*Sigh.*

Upon perusal of the 7 pounds of heavy MRI films I carried into my doctor's office about a week later, it would seem as if I had indeed hurt myself and needed to be fused again. More fusing?
This is not something I want to go through anytime soon, so I told him unless I have complete paralysis of my upper extremities or spine itself, I was just going to "endure".

Easier said than done.

I had been managing the pain fairly well as my part-time, working from home set up allowed me to lay down briefly in the afternoon if needed. But as Murphy and his mocking-me law would have it, my afternoon replacement gal up and quit and boss man asked me to come back full time. I told him I needed to chew on it for a few days, but ultimately decided I didn't REALLY want to have to go through all the effort of finding another "Afternoon-Stephanie-Replacement" person, and then train him or her, only to have them possibly quit shortly thereafter. I also knew my teenage daughter was more settled with her school and heavily involved Color Guard schedule... what the hell, I'd give it a whirl. 

The first day I felt like a truck ran me over.
The second, I wanted to jump off the balcony of our 3rd story building at work.
By the third day, I was an all out bitch on wheels.

I knew something needed to be done, something that didn't involve fusing... something less "Western-medicine-esque". So for 2 weeks now I have been doing laser light therapy which basically entails shooting some specific, high powered wave length of light through my problem areas in the hopes of speeding up cell regeneration.  And guess what? 
It seems to be working!  
While the immediate hours after the treatments have been pretty awful, and I'm not completely pain free, I've got it down to about a 2-3 on the 1-10 pain scale. Without ANY pain meds, even Advil. 
Yahoo!
This is huge.

So guess what that means?
I'm back in the saddle baby!
Time to bring on the resume funny!
You just endured reading all that (my hat is off to you for THAT!) so let's just jump in, shall we?

Here's what I've compiled in my trusty pink folder while you were all so patiently waiting... 

From Marvin- under his "Career Overview":
"In my past jobs I have qualified for a manager position which I completed thoroughly while thriving on the greatness and honesty I portray even while I am sleeping..."

From Shirley- under her "Skill Highlights" section:
"Have excellent filling skills."
(As in teeth? No... she is not in the dental field...)

From Rod- under his "Core Accomplishments" portion:
"I can calm down ALL customers while keeping them as a client. I enjoy telling them what to do and how to breathe to settle their nerves."

From Seda- in her initial email to me along with her resume:
"i'm a great worker and i interact with different people and personalities very well, despite their grumpiness. I just NEED THIS OPPORTUNITY!!!"

From Vanessa- in an email to me accompanying her equally confusing resume:
"I thank you for looking at my resume as it shows me there is great interest in me as a potential person with what i have to offer. i do reside in Northridge, and i currently have my life and accidental health (pending). i've been waiting for several months for my license and i don't know why it is taking so long to get it. Based on the financial world i would rather work on base as i am knowledgable in life, a great people person, and this industry hasn't been in my favor because my pending license and i have yet to see any one change in it, so it does effect my financial interest and assistant pending industry career. i do thank you for your time and appreciate that there is interest in me as a potential person with what i have to offer."

Cindy put this as one of her strengths:
"Very analytic to help notice my strong week points."

Mark said that he's "Talented in design anguls of communications."

Rebecca put this and ONLY this under her specific job description as an admin:
"Accomplished understanding how to use new technology to create a PDF."

Jonathan thought it important to highlight this crap, otherwise known as his hobby:
"Record and write lyrics based on my life experience to give different perspectives to other people, that may not have had those perspectives or experiences, themselves, before."

Jack wanted to be sure to put this under his volunteer service section: "Played basketball on my lunch break."
He also felt it necessary to point out that he "Swept sand in parking lot while it rained."

Nathan put:
"I have the keen ability to satisfy a customer, if you know what I mean."

Anthony (who currently works at a PIZZA HUT in GUAM I might add) emailed me this little diddy:
"I would like to be interested in your offer but I was told you would need a woman."

I was laughing so hard, my boss man came in my office to see if I was okay- when I showed it to him he said in his normal, non-PC kind of way "Why don't you write him back and say "it looks like YOU need a woman." 

Calm down boys, she's not even real ;0)

And last, my most favoritist one of the bunch lately, from Caroline, who sent me this lovely message along with her resume:
"As I am currently in Copenhagen, I would be happy to move as soon as i am guaranteed the position. In the meantime, I would appreciate it if you could please pay for my travel expenses to fly in for an interview."
You read that right- she's in COPENHAGEN. As in DENMARK. And she wants us to foot the bill for her to fly over here for an interview.

It took everything in me not to write her back and say "Does this ever work? How many cool places have you gotten to travel to utilizing this method?"

Gah.

Peace out my peeps!

My Tale of WOE

First off, I'd like to say a special *thank you* to those of you that commented on the whole Vacuum Gate situation that doth goith on in my house.

A lot of you emailed me privately as well to wax eloquent, not only about vacuums, but about being married to an engineer, and I thought that was awesome.

It made me realize that I need to start a support group for Wives of Engineers. We could call it "WOE" - get it? (Wives Of Engineers for those of you that haz the dumb today.) I think it's fitting. I'm pretty sure it would be a LARGE and RELIEVED group that could get together and drink heavily without judgement. All the exchanging tales of common and predictable behavior would be a joyous time together, no? 

Anyhoo, this past Saturday night would have made for an excellent WOE story telling moment. 

We'd just finished installing the baseboards into our teenage daughter's bedroom and I wanted hubs to finally HANG some shit up on the wall for CRYING OUT LOUD. I wanted to do that as soon as we'd finished painting eons ago; he said NO, that was OUT OF ORDER, that we hang LAST. So I've waited impatiently for 3 effing months to hang stuff up. My simple wish was for one of those paper orb lights to hang over our daughter's bed and some other paper orb things sans lights to hang in the middle of her room. Plus various other mirrors and pictures, invisible bookshelves etc to make it as "teenage zen-like" as possible. (Cuz I'm the coolest mom ever, yo!)

Finally agreeing to help me hang things (probably because I'd been threatening to do it myself, and he knows if I follow through with my threat, it won't be "to his liking" so he'll have to re-do it anyway) out come the levels, the plumb line, tape, pencils, hammers, 29 different colored wall anchors, the drill, and about 422 different sizes of drill bits. You know, just in case. You've got to be PREPARED to do this stuff properly. Can't be hanging stuff all Willy Nilly and shit. 

At this point I was so ecstatic things were going to be permanently hung, I didn't care; I was willing to stand on my head while handing him his tools with my toes if he so required it of me.

After 10 minutes of working flawlessly together, there was suddenly a snafu. Of all the things that held up our progress, the worst issue became the paper globe with the nightlight in it. Oh for the love of everything that is holy, did I want to go postal over this one. It required yet another pit stop to Lowe's (our local money dumping facility) to find *just the right* cable holder thingys that go in the corner of a wall. You know, THESE things:

We'd already been to Lowe's THREE TIMES that day, but in the car we went.

At first it would seem that Lowe's didn't have the right kind. Too big, too small... My 6'4" manly Goldilocks about blew a damn gasket over not having the precise one. But alas, after 26 minutes of combing the aisles, we located the little boogers. 

After those were safely in hand, I timidly expressed my *creative Pinteresty wish* to get all crafty and hang these OTHER cool cute paper orb things I got from my friend Malinda's baby shower a week ago... right in the middle of our daughter's room, from the ceiling. Well that sent him into a tailspin, searching for the appropriate "hooks" to "ruin" (according to him) the ceiling with.

I quickly grabbed those 3M plastic sticky-backed picture hanging things and said "What's wrong with these? Why can't I just use clear fishing line and stick them to the ceiling with these?"

He looked at me as if I'd shot him in the chest.

Hubs: "I don't think that's a good idea. That's not the proper way to do it."
Me: Wha? "How do you know? They don't WEIGH anything, it's like hanging feathers."
Hubs: "Fine, whatever. Ruin the ceiling then. It's late, I'm tired, let's just go."

It was late (8:47 on a Saturday night, yeah, I know, we need to get a life) and I had to remind myself that Grumpy McSnappy pants had just had surgery on his teeth 2 days before... surgery that went horribly wrong when the lovely dentist drilled an extra HOLE through his jaw bone. (Yick.)

All the way home I contemplated 
a) how I got away with it and 
b) how I was going to actually ruin the ceiling. 

Cuz I was pretty sure I'd never hear the end of it if I actually DID ruin the ceiling, and this was one of my only shots to prove that there isn't just ONE way to do something. 


Here is a pic of the end result... I think it turned out lovely, and sweet teenage daughter was tickled to death when she came home from her sleepover the next day to her new and improved room:

Some days I want to be my own daughter. Seriously. 

But the best part of the whole experience?
Hubs said it actually wasn't such a bad idea to use those sticky thingys after all. 
Gasp!

Score one for the founding member of WOE!

What's that you say? 
You showed up here to read about bad resumes and want me to shut up about home improvement and engineers in general?

Well then (as my totally non-PC cool boss man would say) KEEP YOUR PANTIES ON! I'M GETTING TO IT!

There never seems to be a lack of material... so whom shall I pick on today? 

This is a shot of my blog writing folder... EACH ONE of those pieces of paper could be an entire blog posting. 

There are more than 500 sheets of paper there. Y'all relax now, those of you that are worried about my material "drying up" and have even emailed me to say so. While I think it's touching you are worried I won't have anything to say about job seekers being moronic, never fear, the stupidity is rampant.

Now!
Here's a few I've gathered up most recently- a lovely hodge podge of insanity for you:


This was a direct message to me from Ruth. This message is all that came in with her resume:
"hi, well honestly i don't drive, but maybe i could do a few parts of the job?"
A "few" parts? Oh honey, that's not how it works out here in real-live-job land.

"I am a highly qualified and results-driffen Operations Mangment professional." 
Driffen?
Underneath that sentence, this was his job description:
"Remove staples, paperclips and tape. Then shred."
That's ALL he listed.
Pffft. "Operations Mangment Professional" my ASS.

This note came in, submitted along with a very confusing resume: 
"I am not your person!"
THEN WHY DID YOU APPLY DINGLE BERRY?
Oh wait, maybe this is why... because he (she?) signed it with SEVEN DIFFERENT NAMES.
"Litlin, Boris, Galina, Bales, Vlad, Mari and Johnny."
Perhaps they got confused and were fighting amongst each other over whether to apply or not?

Allan started his resume off with this at the top of it: "I retired in January 2010."
Really? Just for the record- don't lead with your "I retired" foot, people.

Rachel applied to one of my customer service type positions that requires heavy phone responsibilities:
"I am really interested in the job. i do not have an active phone but i am really interested in the job. so can you please provide a phone number where i can reach you, i can be sure to call you."
How? 
How will you accomplish this? 

On the flip side of Rachel's brilliant statement is Ramone's:
"If you wish to contact me; please do so with the contact information provided."
As opposed to what? Subliminally?

And last but certainly not least, I think the best one I randomly pulled out of my magical folder today comes from Eric:
"My name is Eric Bly S____. I live in _______ California which I have me entire life. I am 19 turning 20 in a few years. I have currently completed 2 years of college and will be starting into my 4th."
WTF? How has Eric accomplished anything? After those opening few phrases, I'd be impressed if he could brush his teeth properly.

Peace out my peeps!