Tuesday, May 28, 2013

Cardiff? I know where that is!

ah, laughingbatch…

Have a job interview on Thursday with a large international company… like they have several offices in the UK. Including one in Cardiff. Amazingly, I’ve heard of Cardiff. (My knowledge may or may not be based on the fact that that’s where Doctor Who, Torchwood, and Sherlock are filmed.)

I’m in a pissy mood today and I don’t know why.

I started my day with a bowl of ice cream (normally a surefire cure although maybe not the best choice for breakfast…), and it did nothing. That’s not a good sign.

While I was playing ‘how many times can I hit the snooze button and still wake up on time’, I heard three of my favorite songs. I even stayed awake long enough to sing all of “(Don’t Go Back To) Rockville” before hitting the snooze button. It’s been a long time since I’ve been happy to hear R.E.M. on the radio. So that can’t be it. I’m watching a movie that has David Tennant in it, WITH his Scottish accent. So that can’t be it either.

I think I’m just tired of being unemployed and stuck home all day. It’s finally broken me. I don’t even want to look for jobs today…

So. Laughingbatch it is, because he always makes me smile.

Monday, May 27, 2013

My life - tumblr style

yep.

“The loneliest people are the kindest. The saddest people smile the brightest. The most damaged people are the wisest. All because they do not wish to see anyone else suffer the way they do.”

I see this quote all over the place lately - normally paired with Doctor Who graphics, because, honestly, it seems to fit the Doctor the best. (Especially Ten for some reason. Oh, wait. I know the reason and it’s called DOOMSDAY. Damn you, RTD! You’re almost as bad as Moffat.)

It reminds me of all the outreach I tend to do on tumblr. All the kids who talk about cutting, suicide, depression… Yeah, my time on tumblr is not ALL about reblobbing pictures of hot English boys. I am a growed up sometimes. (I know! ME! A growed up.)

Some days, I feel like I missed my true calling. I know I’m making a difference to some of these kids and I wonder if I’d be better served getting paid to help others learn from my shitty experiences. Then again, I’m a little too damaged to be of much use most of the time.

I spend way too much time trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. And that’s even without being unemployed. Understandably, being unemployed cranks it to twelve.

Why else would I have two college degrees?

I’ve been spending today wondering what day my interview with the CPA firm will be. All I know right now is that it’s at some point this week. Wondering if it’s really the path I want to go back down.

Let’s be honest, shall we?

—CRAZY ALERT—I really, really, really, REALLY enjoyed tax season. It made me feel, I don’t know, kind of alive? It pushed me to my limits, education-wise.—END CRAZY ALERT—

I even liked working on clients’ books and closing the months.

I didn’t like the management. I didn’t like the summer.

Will it be different this time?

I don’t know.

And it’s the not knowing that scares the shit out of me.

I don’t want to take the first job offered to me, even though I need to get back to work. Like NEED to… but I’m afraid of passing up a good job for one that’s still only a possibility. I’m nervous about the CPA job because it’s through a recruiter and those employers normally are quicker to hire.

Of course, there’s still the issue that the one position I think I could love has a lot going against it. 

Screw it.

I’m going back to school to become a therapist.

The writing bug

sometimes, the jokes write themselves

If he’s not the most adorkable thing you’ve ever seen, then I don’t know if we can be friends.

——

I reread my Johnlock fan fic this morning, and I still really like it. That’s a first. Normally, after a NaNo, I’ll try to pick the story up so I can end it. I cringe at every single word in those 50K monsters. Every. Single. Word. Sometimes, I like the general idea of the story and I’ll try to rewrite it, but… Anne Lamont says you’re supposed to write a shitty first draft. That that’s completely fine. But what happens if you write something WORSE than a shitty first draft?

I am the Queen of the Worst-Than-Shitty-First-Draft.

Which is exactly why nothing I write for fun ever gets finished.

Which is exactly why I like the idea of writing for a living, but know it will never happen.

I’m OK with that. There were a lot of things I wanted to be when I grew up: a veterinarian, an Olympic gymnast, a fire man, a boy, a writer, normal.

I think it’s safe to say that I’m none of that.

Except I guess I’m technically a writer - writers write and I definitely write. Here, there, everywhere. The journals I’ve kept my entire life. My blogs. Stories. But not for profit, and I’ve always considered a writer someone who gets paid. So yeah, not a writer.

Anyhoo.

Now that I’ve actually written something I like, I want to write more.

Specifically fan fic.

It’s easier to play in someone else’s sandbox than to have to build your own. Everything you need is there: a world, characters, situations. You just need to know your characters inside and out. (Hence, the thousands of viewings of Sherlock during my leisure hours. It’s a good thing I really like the show. *grin*)

I suppose now the issue is whether or not I want to continue writing Johnlock or if I want to move on to something else.

If that’s the toughest choice I have to make right now, today, I guess that’s a good thing.

If not a little pathetic.

Sunday, May 26, 2013

Five hour lunch

yeah, kripke. don’t think we don’t know what you do in your free time!

Remember the days when fandoms were exclusive clubs and the show runners and actors had no idea what the fuck was going on?

*shakes fist at the internet*

——

I went out to lunch today with a woman I used to work with in a previous life. She’s kind of like a surrogate mom to me. (Her daughters are my age, so it’s not so farfetched an idea… and she would have LOVED my father.) As we do, we talked, and talked, and talked. About everything and about nothing. It was nice. I needed some ‘mom’ time and it’s been over a year. Stoopid life kept getting in the way. On both sides.

I talked about my issues with interviewing for the job at Sig Sauer and why I don’t have an opinion on gun control. We talked about gay marriage, abortion… weird shit that we normally don’t talk about, but I opened the door to that when I mentioned the interview with the political place. 

We talked a lot about my job search and how I might have a chance to work for a CPA firm again… she thinks I should get my CPA license. I’m still not sure that’s what I want to do, but it would make my job search easier. It’s one of the biggest things I’m missing on my resume. *sigh* I have the education requirement. I need the work hours and I need to pass a four part exam. (I couldn’t even get myself to take the two part CMA exam and I really want my CMA more than I want my CPA.) Two years at a CPA firm. I’m pretty sure my first year at HWG doesn’t count, and even if it did I’d probably let it slide just so I could have consecutive years.

OK. That last sentence pretty much proves I’m screwed in the head.

That or the fact that I would work two years, get licensed and start looking for a job again that’s NOT in public accounting…

*sigh*

Here’s where my hunt is at so far:

1) CPA firm mentioned above - Tony the Pimp says they want to meet me this week.

2) Collection law firm - interview on Wednesday

3) Payroll funding place - my resume is being passed on to the controller. I think I’m too expensive.

4) Political place - hoping to hear back this week. Already did an email interview and a phone screen.

5) Retirement community - hoping to hear back this week. Already did a phone screen.

6) IT company - hoping to hear back. They were the other one with the email interview questions, and a web survey.

Out of all of them, I think I’d like to work at the political place the most… but I don’t know if I should. It’s in Boston - an 80 minute train ride from Newburyport, which is about a half hour from here. And that’s one way! *sigh* There’s no way in hell I’d be able to find a place to park near Downtown Crossing, plus you couldn’t pay me enough to commute into the city by car.

I have no fucking idea what to do. I suck at looking for jobs.

——

I posted this on Facebook last week:

Netflix: Because you watched [really crappy horror movie]... here’s Dirty Dancing and What to Expect When You’re Expecting.

Me: I can’t argue with that logic.

I now have two friends in a gross-out competition. Right now, it’s tied one-all. I’m not sure what’s worse: that they found something even more upsetting than Ron Jeremy’s killer penis movie or that I’m amused enough by this to make it a competition and keep score. 

——

I don’t think there’s any more I can do with my Johnlock fic so it’s on it’s way to the proofreader. I’m so nervous! It was weird when I made J read it, and now it’s in the hands of a friend of a friend.

I think I want to puke.

That would be exactly why I DON’T write for a living.

Saturday, May 25, 2013

The first time

the address is two-two-one b baker street :: unaired pilot

I was going through some screengrabs from the first two episodes of Sherlock and the amount of eyesex between Sherlock and John is just… wow. We all know Martin ships Johnlock like a fucking maniac. (Maybe even more than the Sherlockians?) This image is from the unaired pilot (“Study in Pink”, 60 min version), and I love Ben’s face in it. The grin. The fringe. It’s all utterly perfect. Anyhoo - this is John’s first trip to Baker St., before they decide to be flatmates.

Actually, let me correct that. Sherlock KNOWS they’re going to be flatmates. John is not sure at this point. I’m not really sure he actually ever makes the decision.. I think it’s more like he goes along for the ride because Sherlock gives him everything he didn’t know he was missing.

That got me thinking about first times. (Not necessarily THAT first time. Get your head out of the gutter.) I mean these kind of first times:

The first interview for your first job.

The first time you lay eyes on the guy you’re going to spend the rest of your life with.

The first time you watch a TV show that changes your life.

The first time you set foot in a city that - impossibly - feels like home in a matter of seconds.

The first time your father tells you he’s proud of the person you’ve become.

The first time a short story of yours makes someone cry.

The first time you dump your feelings into a silly little html document.

The first time you realize that some people don’t deserve your loyalty.

The first time someone breaks your heart.

The first time you fall in love with a child. (Not like that, peanut gallery.)

The first time that thing that’s bothered you your entire life gets a name.

The first time you realize it’s all going to be OK…

And the first time you realize that life is nothing but a series of first times. Every day a new beginning. A fresh start.

I like that about living. It gives me something to look forward to…