It's All Stagnant to me...

The search continues and with all my friends everywhere but here, my sanity is only as present as my ability to entertain myself. I've become fairly obsessed with a "Third Eye Blind" Pandora station and researching different opinions on the worth/worthlessness of a college degree.

When I was beginning to apply for colleges, and in talking with my younger sister, who's first semester will begin this August, my family came to the conclusion that college has become a pertinent part of this generation's resume. It'll be impossible to get a job without a degree. I know we're not the only people who started to think that way, but I believe that because of the resulting rush to University, the value of a degree is diminishing.

Most of the job postings I've seen require secondary education for a position that pays, the lowest I've seen- but I've seen it often, $9.00 an hour. If I would have picked my position back up at the retail store I was seasonal at during the past few years, I'd be making more than that.

Granted, in a real position my ability to grow and earn more could move a lot quicker than it would if I was back at a corporate retail outlet (where you're considered for a raise only once a year and management positions are hard to come by.) Regardless, it still really pulls the rug out from under me to realize how incredibly financially limited I am right now- especially when the ability to earn more was one of my main reasons for getting a secondary education (beyond my passion to learn :-p).

Between my job search and my apartment hunt in Broward County, where there's quite the range of socio-economic communities, I've realized that I can't live- where living means rent, food, gas, utilities, internet, student loans, and credit card bills from four years of flying to Florida for Thanksgiving and a semester abroad- for less than $13.00 an hour when working 40 hours a week. That would get me by by the skin of my teeth, and excludes luxuries like my summer movie addiction, my passion for traveling, and my obsession with accessories. Or, you know, saving up for that graduate degree that I eventually want to go back for.

I knew this was coming, but my current inability to find a job that pays less than I need to survive is making it incredibly difficult for me to focus on a future of being able to afford life.

This article was featured on MSN today and, though it's really radical, I think it poses some really interesting ideas about the secondary education system. (And the discussion at the end helps to explicate the points Hough misses.) Definitely worth a read.

I'll go back to my different forms of entertainment for now, but my endeavors continue tomorrow.

P.S. Get your vote on to my right! A poll isn't much of a poll if nobody responds.

Scams Galore

It seems as though every insurance agency and marketing firm in Boynton Beach desperately needs me.

That sounds rather optimistic. I should clarify.

Let's start with the "need" in that statement. These establishments are all looking for people to fill sales positions. Unless you know that's your ticket, it's a difficult position you have to be incredibly invested in - and that's when people are actually willing to spend their money. Whether you're selling insurance, credit service, clothes, or office supplies, your target is looking for the best deal possible. In our current financial state, a sell takes just as much effort as it does skill. It seems we're severely lacking people who have the skill and/or will make the effort, so all of these companies are reaching out to anybody they think might be naive enough to give the position a go.

Next, onto the "me." Me here is in reference to any and every poor shmuck who has left their contact info on their internet job-site posted resume.

Yesterday at about 11am, I got a call. Not wanting to answer a work call with morning raspyness, I got up to brush my teeth. I came out and there was another call and a voicemail. I listened and got excited. "My manager was impressed with your resume. I'd like to speak with you and perhaps arrange for an interview in the near future. Please call me directly at ...." OMG A JOB. YES.

Drink some oj, get my voice together. Google the company. No webpage for a marketing firm? Hmf. That should have been my first clue but my overwhelming optimism kicked in and I ignored that little tidbit. The careerbuilder profile made it look like something I wouldn't mind doing.

I told my mom and she said they must be very interested if they contacted me first. OoOoOo JOB A JOB A JOB.

Then I went to grab my cell phone to get the number and saw that they called another two times. Then my mom started to get suspicious. Anxiety on the part of the employer is not professional. I gave the place a call and our suspicions were confirmed. They were very subtle about it though and it took some digging to find out the position was sales and, though had a base salary, was mostly commission. I'd be trying to convince local small business to use this marketing/financial firm to process there major credit card bills. BAH.

Well that was a let down I was not prepared for. I'm off to remove my home number/cell number/ and address from the resumes I have posted on the internet. Everybody is more than familiar with email and that is a sufficient first contact.

This page lists an assortment of links to helps us spot the scams in our online job searches.

Amphibian Adjustments

For many college graduates, moving back home is an inevitable and stressful adjustment. We've gotten used to living by our own rules, under our own roof (ok, so maybe the school or mom or dad paid for it- but you know what I mean,) with our own transportation, our own grocery lists, and our own consequences. Ah, independence.

But then, after we've gotten speeches and lectures about how we're fully responsible for ourselves and ready for the real world, we have to temporarily adjust to that post-graduation summer where we move back in to save up some cash, find a job, find a place to live, etc. All of a sudden, we have to set the dinner table, clean up after ourselves before we go to bed, hang the keys up by the door for the person leaving in the am, make sure our siblings are being responsible, and remember that our parents are parents and not just roommates.

When I come back home to the small, three-bedroom townhouse in South Florida with my parents and my two younger siblings, my make-shift bedroom that blocks off the downstairs bathroom and laundry room is an inconvenience to everybody. Not only does my mom have to pause and knock every time she switches the wash and my little brother has to ask to grab tennis balls off the storage shelves, but I have to work extra hard to keep my room presentable so guests can use the bathroom.

Well, over the past 10 days or so, I kind of let go and let my infamous pile of worn-but-not-dirty clothes stack in the corner. Tonight, (yes I am aware it's currently 4:30a.m., but I clean best after midnight,) I decided to straighten up a bit. I moved around some small furniture to make some room, cleaned up a pile of papers at the foot of my bed and then tackled my pile of laundry last. Down to the homeless hats and gloves that I brought back from my tundra-ed university, I gathered them to shove them into an empty crevice of my closet... but ended up screaming and doing a backwards somersault when I discovered a 4inch lizard jumping out of my fleece lined glove and scurrying across the hall to find another home. (Yeah, it was a gecko- and he didn't try to seduce me into buying car insurance with a British accent.)

Naive little me forgot about the climate adjustments. At school, with a can of air, I guarded the spout of a pitcher I used to trap a hairy, long-legged spider for three hours, waiting for my roommate to wake up so she could kill it because I couldn't handle the squish. In South Florida, I have to get my sister in the wee hours of the morning so she can channel her Elmyra tendencies and put them to good use.

Now, I'm itchy all over and feel really guilty about tossing, at least, an extra load of laundry onto my mom's pile- but I just can't handle the thought of those little suction-cuppy hands crawling all over my t-shirts...and who knows what else he was up to? *shiver*

Apparently there's also a rather large snake living in the rose bush on our patio.

Welcome Home.

Couch Potato Internships

The time between jobs.

Apparently my smile and excellent typing skills can be resisted because last Thursday, the law office told me they had nothing for me to do the next day and that my assignment was complete. It being my first temporary position, I was half expecting them to keep me much longer because I was more efficient than some of the salaried employees- but I'm not one to mess with the flow of things. Also, because they had run out of things I was brought in to do, they looked for things to fill the time on Thursday and I ended up hole-punching monthly invoice records. Half-way through a stack of sheets, I came ridiculously close to welling up, realizing the awfully productive way I was putting the last four years to use. Ouch.

Anyway, I called the employment agency first thing Friday morning asking to be re-assigned as my shtick at the law office was complete and I got an answer that I thought I wasn't going to have to experience: "We don't have anything right now, but we'll give you a call as soon as something comes up."

So, my miserable case of unemployment continues. Now it's a matter of filling the time so I don't become an unproductive lump of jobless depression. Over the weekend, I started searching for apartments (jumping the gun maybe, but it's a seriously involved process.) I continue to fight with the gritty lines of pastels and have tried, unsuccessfully, to read Anna Karenina countless times. Oh, and the find job post, write cover letter, send resume, get no response cycle continues.

Keep on Keepin' On

When I got up the nerve to tell my Aunt (my family's number one...uh..."Motivator") that I was going to settle for temporary positions, she was more than disappointed and told my mom she thought I was giving up on my dream.

But I'm not. I still come home every evening and check craigslist, careerbuilder and monster for anything that might fit me. Tonight I started searching in Miami with the thought process that if I'm temping in Boca and don't mind the drive on 95, what's to stop me from going further south, especially when I know the doors that could open for me in Miami? Well... I found an internship that seems fairly perfect. A boutique custom publishing/marketing agency with a tag line of "Be Unique." 12-15 hours a week (I could still hold paying temp jobs... because this is unpaid.) BUT, without traffic, it's almost an hour and a half south of here. With traffic, and trust me, at 8 a.m., there is an exorbitant amount of traffic, I'm looking at over three hours of driving for a three hour day? I guess I should wait and see if they respond to my email first, huh.

How far are you willing to travel, heavy traffic included, if your dream job is on the other side of the terrible commute...(Shave while driving? Really Miami?)

Temp Job # 1: Transcriptionist at a Law Firm

Picture It:

• Wednesday at 5:30p.m.: temp agency calls cell
• Wednesday 5:45pm: The Breakdown- law firm needs help with Word Perfect. Thursday and Friday. 11:00am to 6pm. $12.00/hour. Boca Raton, FL
• Thursday 11:00am: five minute break down of expansive file system and dictaphone machine
• Thursday 11:05-3:00: Transcription
• Thursday 3:01-6:00: Corrections (almost illegible handwriting, have to regularly ask near-by full-timers for assistance)
• Friday: Repeat of Thursday
• Friday: 6:00pm- asked to return indefinitely

The people are nice and the woman who works with me regularly, the assistant to the head partner, is both incredibly helpful and has a fantastic sense of humor (constantly flustered, but swearing - and laughing- under her breath and complaining about she might lose her pinky toe to her heels.) The firm deals with property law for community associations all over South Florida, so the letter's aren't as entertaining as they could be and, beyond the incomprehensible handwriting, the new-to-me legal jargon requires a tap dance on the dictaphone pedal when I'm transcribing. Right

(play) - lift (pause) - left (rewind) - right.....- lift- type- left- right...- left- right- lift- right- lift- right- life. Find the right file, save. Print. Find the right printer.

Sitting in front of a desk but still getting to socialize with the people who are losing their minds about getting the letters out on time is way more forgiving to my feet than 9 hours of organizing stock-room shelves or demoing the newest lotion. I'm not sure what kind of fake wood the floor is, but it's impossible to walk without sounding like an elephant who's shoes don't fit.... but there's a real, live water cooler :p The pay's good, the hours are perfect. However, temp is temp. They can say "Don't come tomorrow" at any point (though how can your resist this smile and my wonderfully speedy typing skills.)

Poser's Potential: High, if you're interested in law.

Bottom Line: I'm sure if it wasn't temp and you were anxious to enter into a life of law, it'd get boring very quickly. What I do for the office could definitely be done by an intern, but I'm getting paid pretty well all things considered.

3/5 Prop

This website breaks it down if you're interested in the field of law.

A Poser's Platform

It goes without saying that I'm not the only twenty-something that has an unfathomable amount of debt racked up in a bank note that's hiding somewhere beyond my levels of (now highly educated) comprehension. Is it even necessary to say that I'm fairly clueless as to what I want to do with my life now that I have a degree in something that I borderline despise? I do believe I should say that for a certain amount of time, and sometimes even now, it does feel like I'm the only one.

That's why I decided to start a blog about my encounters with the -quote- real world -end quote- now that college life is the kind of memory that PHI 117 taught me might just be a trick. A priori or a posteriori?

Here is my empircal knowledge (aka, this is what my silent post-college resume says):

Schoolin':

A regionally infamous private university has dubbed me worthy of my $200,000 diploma (or I should say that they handed me a branded portfolio and a letter that said they'd mail me the elusive diploma) that seems like it has already lived up its value even though I only earned it a month ago. When people read "B.S. in Advertising," they laugh.

Baggage:

• I've spent the past seven years convincing people, including and sometimes exclusively myself, into thinking that I really care about any of the following:

a) how many items go into the dressing room

b) whether or not the package is upgraded

c) where the lien paperwork gets filed if it's sent to a client of the client

d) how many bottles of shower gel are wrung up in the next hour or which cream will actually get rid of wrinkles

e) which article database is trustworthy

f) what aisle the spade shovels are in

g) that a job is more than just a job

• I'm broke. I'm broke minus a comfortable savings account.
• The thought of yet another summer in retail makes my heels ache and my head throb.
• My network connections from the past four years are minimal. Fantastic references, but useless when it comes to finding a job that's 1500 miles away from where the network started.
• My parents are broke and anti-social. Dead end.
• I live in my parents' hallway with the raw addition of a few slabs of graffitied sheetrock.
• Both of my parents, my 18 year old sister, and myself all share two vehicles.
• My to-be roommate is leaving her developed life in her hometown to come live with me across the country...in approximately 10 weeks.
• All of my relevant experience (three internships spanning from academic integrity research to editing to design) is somehow related to my University, and therefore, I have been informed, makes it seem as though I am not "serious" about entering said career.

Extracurriculars:

I moved to South Florida two weeks before I started college in central New York. My main social network consists of the recent high school graduates that are entertaining my younger sister for the month.

Awards:

• Dean's List
• Proudest Mom
• Most Contagious Laugh (9 years running)

Competencies:

-I know where a comma belongs and doesn't belong.

-My over-priced private education has taught me how to navigate the most advanced programs and operating systems that technology has to offer. Much to my demise, most places of business cannot afford such systems and currently run Windows 98 or the like, lacking any or all of the complex webs of pull downs and short-cuts and right clicks that I've mastered.

-I'm passionate about..... figuring out what I'm passionate about.

-I can type 80 wpm according to employment agency skills testing software.

*Excellent references available upon request.

For all the reasons listed above, and a month of cold-calling that has left me freezer-burned, I have decided to register with assorted employment agencies. This blog will follow my adventures as I explore and maneuver the professional world in the all-too-often-used excuse of a "bad economy."

Come back to read my weekly assessments of life as a struggling recent graduate: life as a temp, life as a freelancer, life as a slacker, and hopefully, eventually- life as a professional.