snark is good, right?

You know, maybe part of the reason no one wants to hire me is because my Live Chat skills are just not up to par. I just had to use a website’s Live Chat tool because I couldn’t log into my account, and the conversation was peppered with things like:

Received: Please do not worry.
Received: I will surely help you login to your account.
Received: Thank you so much for all the valuable information and verifying your account details.
Received: I am more than happy to know that you were able to login to your account successfully.
Received: Have I resolved your issue today?
Received: I wish you all the very best in finding your dream job.

How very polite and helpful! Much more helpful than I ever was when manning the Live Chat windows:

Client: I’m trying to use your program on a Mac
Kimli: I’m sorry, but our system is PC-based – our Mac-compatible tools are still in the alpha stage
Client: Is there a program I can download that will make it work?
Kimli: Yes .. Windows.

Snort. One more thing for me to worry about, I suppose – that I can’t find another job because I am just too snarky.

In other news, it’s looking more and more likely that I will be going through the holiday season unemployed. Hooray! If you eat spam with cranberry sauce, is it close enough to turkey?

baby you’re no good

I hate it when excellent restaurants go away.

We’ve dined at Higashi West at the Lonsdale Quay a bunch of times, and each time it’s been delicious and cheap and unique. Last week when I met Shan at the Quay, I noticed with horror that the restaurant was newspaper’d up completely. Hoping they were just closed for renovations, I went over and looked for signage – nothing. I tried to peek through the paper – nothing. It’s just closed up. No signs, no activity, no ethereally delicious scallop thingies – nothing.

Well, fuck. I loved that place. I went online trying to find out more, but there’s no info to be found. Curious though, I did find a restaurant review dated as recently as October 23rd of this year and another one the day before that. I discovered they were gone on November 15th – so at some point in those three weeks, they went from awesome to gone. This sucks.

Also sucking: I’m morbidly convinced that I will never get another job in ANY industry, let alone the one I’m throwing myself at so shamelessly. I am depressed and quite literally medicating myself with ice cream; something I only thought ever happened in chick flicks/lit. I am utterly despondent that several positions I applied for that I would be truly excellent at have been reposted, meaning I didn’t make the cut (again). I am thinking there is little to no point in reapplying, but what else have I got to lose except my apartment. In short, I am in a funk. It is not a good funk. It is a very, very bad funk.

Booooo.

i’m a streaker

Most people, when nervous, tend to sweat or stutter or twitch.

When I’m nervous, my eyes start to water.

A lot.

Not a big deal, right?

Except I really like my mascara.

A lot.

No, it’s not waterproof. Yes, I spent most of my thing with big black streaks around my eyes. Yes, I am sure it made a fantastic impression.

The thing went well. Now I get to stop being nervous about the thing and instead hunker down to be nervous wondering if they liked me and if they want me for stuff. I am sure the runny mascara absolutely helped my cause; nothing says “I am a loyal and hardworking employee” like looking as though you’re about to burst into tears.

Just call me Streaky McGee!

Crap.

 

scared of the thing

I have a thing tomorrow.

I don’t normally write about interviews in advance for fear of jinxing myself, but I’m sure doing exactly that can’t hurt as much as I scare myself into thinking it will.

The thing is a little different than other things I’ve been to – for one, it was an invitation to lunch to meet and discuss. There was no specific thing I’m being called out for, so it’s really .. you know, a meet and discuss. Naturally, I am terrified. I mean, I would be terrified if it was a general interview but because it is a thing I am even more scared than usual.

Of course I hope that a nifty awesome job will come from this, but I am the world’s worst self-pessimist. While I know I should be confidently shouting my skills from the rooftops, I usually think I HAVE no skills and as such, people wouldn’t really want to meet with me to discuss jobs or openings or opportunities of any kind.

So what, if not a job, am I afraid this meet and discuss is all about?

I am afraid:

  • They’re going to try to sell me Amway
  • They’re going to sit me down and tell me gently but firmly that no one in the industry will ever hire me because:
    • I have no skills
    • I am not pretty enough
  • I’ve been blacklisted from the Vancouver job market, ALL of it
  • They’re going to ask if I’ve given thought to accepting the Lord as my own personal Jesus, then break out into synchronized dancing as Depeche Mode plays in the background
  • I’m about to be Punk’d
  • I’m about to snap back to reality oh there goes gravity oh there goes Rabbit he choked he’s so mad but he won’t give up that easy no he won’t have it he knows his whole back’s to these ropes
  • That I won’t be able to get that Eminem song out of my head

Mostly, I am just scared that I don’t deserve to get a good job where I’m treated like a real human being.

awkward moments in history

Go on – ask me how awkward it is to buy sex toys in front of a four-year-old child.

Last night Shan and I went to the Open House at the Lonsdale Quay. All the stores on the second floor were offering free food and discounted hoohahs, in addition to the various artisans displaying their wares. We wandered around a little, had some free nibblies, and made some small purchases in the name of giving to others but really to ourselves. Each store was featuring a different type of food item, so in making the rounds we had a relatively full meal from each of the major food groups – salami, crackers, cheese, cherry tomatoes, cupcakes and chocolate.

The sex store in Lonsdale was part of the festivities, and they had a chocolate fountain with marshmallows and strawberries and sticks. I eschewed the marshmallows in favour of the fruit, and it was delicious. The logistics of owning and operating a chocolate fountain seems like far too much work for me, but I did enjoy experiencing someone else’s. Since everyone enjoys chocolate, the sex store was one of the more popular places in the evening. This is excellent; everyone should buy things from sex stores. Unfortunately though, *everyone* likes chocolate – including small children. There were many small children huddled around the chocolate fountain, eating all the marshmallows. Fine by me, I wanted the strawberries. The sex store was also having a “15% off everything!” sale, so we both looked around at the saucy items and I eventually opted to pick up a couple things.

This is where the four-year-old comes in. The girl working the register was deep in conversation with several friends, some of whom brought small children. She, being very tall, had hoisted the small boy child up into her arms so he could contribute to the conversation, things like “babies are small” and “I have a card”. Everyone ooh’d and aww’d at this apparently astounding display of smarts, and I had to heartless interrupt their good times by wishing to give the store some money. Small child still perched on her hip, the very tall girl made it to the register, set the small child on a stool so he was eye level with the items I was purchasing, and started to make things go beep.

This was not at all awkward.

The small child cast a curious eye towards my purchases, then thankfully opted to babble about a clown. The tall girl eventually handed my the debit keypad, then finally a black bag full of saucy items and I was able to make my escape (after another strawberry).

Did not like. I am in my element in a sex store. I am extremely awkward around small children. Purchasing dildos and leather restraints and ball gags in front of a small child is not at all as fun as it should be.

As uncomfortable as that entire scenario was, the highlight of the evening was undoubtedly the two tiny old ladies stomping around the lubricant aisle with one of them sagely saying “All it took was chocolate to finally get us into a sex store!”. Too cute. And props to them for not just taking the chocolate and leaving but actually going into the store to have a peek around!

At one of the stores we saw a line of knitted, beaded jewellery being sold that looked very, very familiar. I know I didn’t invent the idea or anything, but it was damn near identical to the stuff I was making during the Purl Necklaces days. I’ve actually been thinking about Purl Necklaces a lot – I miss being all crafty and I had a lot of fun with it. I still have a staggering amount of pretty shiny beads, so I just ordered some sterling silver wire off the eBays. It’d be nice to start it up again, even if only for myself. Hell, if someone can sell a pendant almost identical to this for $80 in a boutique, then maybe I should rethink starting Purl Necklaces back up again. I could use $80!

Hmpf. I made this choker for a friend; they’re selling the same idea on a bracelet for $149. I could whip up a pretty exact copy in a few hours, and it sure as hell wouldn’t cost $149. Oh well. I’m not really cut out for business anyway; I gave away my Purl Necklaces on a donation basis and it was fun. I think I’ll bone up on my knitting this weekend.

Heh heh “bone”.

plz help the nice kimli

Okay, there’s got to be a Mac whiz out there somewhere:

I has issues. At home we have a Linksys Wireless-G Router, model WRT54G. Ed’s laptop (runs XP) connects to our mixed WPA network, no questions asked. My MacBook, when Boot Camp’d to XP, connects to the same network just fine. However, since day one, I’ve had to manually input an IP address into my Network settings in order for OS X to connect to the wireless. What gives? This sucks. My home network is the only network I’ve ever encountered this with and it is not good at all. Until now I’ve just been doing what I have to in order to get an internet connection at home, but I have officially Had It and I am Not Going To Take It Anymore.

You can tell I’m serious because I’m using Title Case.

Anyhoo. It appears this problem is present on ALL Macs in my humble abode; a friend’s MacBook Pro would not connect to the network and at the time we did not know this sneaky manual fix. I must fix it, and soon – my iPod Touch is having the same problem, and will not connect to my wireless network. Please help! Why do my Apple products hate me so much?

I know that once upon a time we had a very good reason to be running a WPA network instead of a WEP but I can’t remember that reason. If I switch, will everything be rainbows and lollipops again? Oh please help!

at least my liver is happy

Ed is on his way to Saskatoon for a wild and crazy insurance convention. I know – I’m jealous too. Think about it! Insurance, a convention, Saskatoon – he gets to have all the fun. I hear the insurance industry has the best swag, too. I brought back MP3 players and computer hardware from CES, but I bet he’ll get pens and coffee mugs and maybe – just maybe – stress release balls. I am SO JEALOUS!

And apparently, too sarcastic for my own good. At least Ed has a job and isn’t some sort of unwashed bum with nothing to do but make fun of The Employed and wait for the postman to show up. It must be nice to actually have a purpose in life.

I am not doing so well. I am getting more and more depressed about my apparently undesirable and useless skill sets and worried that I will never, ever find a job. It does not help that I picked an absolutely lousy time to wean myself off my crazy pills; I have one pill left on the smallest dose possible before I’m off the chemically induced sanity teat. I’ve thought about going to the doctor and asking to up my dosage again, but that would involve taking a shower and going outside and frankly, I’d almost rather be miserable with incredibly intense withdrawal headaches.

Yes, things are just super.

that sinking feeling

I keep having flashbacks to what was probably the lowest point in my life (2002/3 – getting laid off from work two weeks before our wedding and not finding another job for 9 months, only to get one so bad it put me on brain medication) and I am scared. Not even pointy hugs from the 20 lb horse cat are cheering me up; I’m too worried and stressed out and sad. I hate this. Looking for work sucks ass.

I’m trying really hard to think of something upbeat to say, but I’m completely coming up blank. How sad is that? Maybe I’ll just fall back to the standard: recapping the weekend. Saturday we did nothing but sleep and play video games. Sunday was more entertaining, it was Girl’s Day and Shan, Miranda and I ditched the boys and went for brunch, to Portobello West, and way out to Coquitlam to experience H&M. We then had a tasty dinner with lousy service, and went to our respective homes exhausted and a little poorer. The end. I am a thrill a minute, right here.

I am trying to get enthused about taking a shower and going outside, and it’s not working. It must be done though; I have a meeting at 1:30 and then I get to come home and crawl into bed to continue to be sad and defeated. I’m working on the assumption that tomorrow will be a better day; right now Monday and I are just not seeing eye to eye.

the wreck of the ss taco

Okay so I’ve tried really hard to be upbeat for the last couple days both for my own sanity and also to make sure Ed doesn’t freak out and worry that we’ll soon be homeless, but today I am just plumb out of cheer.

I’ve always felt I was being screwed over at the Space Station, but now that I’m facing unemployment it’s become startlingly clear just how large a pickle I am now in.

Things weighing heavily on my mind:

  • I don’t get a Record of Employment, as I wasn’t technically employed
  • I wasn’t taxed, so I didn’t pay into EI
  • They just gave me a new contract stating I’m a consultant who works when work is available and that I wasn’t ever an employee
  • I’ve been removed from the support email group so I can’t help our clients or do any work (ie claim any hours)
  • I’m the only one of the three people who were NOT made “real” employees who is not getting any work
  • I’ve been applying for jobs left and right, but as true to my nature since I don’t have a job after two days of looking I am in full panic mode that I’ll never get another job
  • I’m more like my mother than I thought – replace “job” with “apartment”, and I’m exhibiting the exact behaviour she demonstrated in May that had me so incredulous and baffled
  • I don’t know what I’m going to do
  • So I’m sitting here sobbing pathetically
  • I miss my dad
  • I both love and hate the month of September

Oh, hell. What am I going to do?