Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Standardized tests and racial profiling

10 subscribers, 13 kudos, holding steady at 1 comment thread

10 days, 2 hours, 38 minutes until November 1st.

Not that I’m paying attention or anything…

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I found my GMAT study guides from 2007/2008. At one point, I thought it would be a great idea to rush into grad school right after I earned my accounting degree.

Yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking either.

When I did finally attempt to get my Master’s in accounting/finance, I went back to SNHU because, as a continuing student, I didn’t have to take the GMAT.

I don’t know why I’m so terrified of these big tests (I had to forfeit my entrance fee for the CMA exam because it was causing too much anxiety), but I am. Maybe it’s because my attempt at the LSAT a thousand years ago left a bad taste in my mouth. I studied so hard for that and barely got what I needed to get into the law schools of my choice. I was so disappointed - and suddenly disillusioned with being an attorney - that I didn’t even bother to apply. I did apply to UConn’s sports management graduate program and deferred my admission because I got a job in pro hockey that year. That admission also did not require a GMAT score.

So… with London as the goal, it’s time to put on my big girl panties, suck it up, and study the fuck out of those old guidebooks.

Somethings are worth the abject terror and anxiety.

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Still no word from the German Consulate, so after another careful perusal of their website, I think I’m going to send in my paperwork blind and see what happens.

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My friend, Jesse, the lead singer of The Ameros (another Albany band - big surprise there) is running for mayor of Albany. This kid has a great head on his shoulders. I’d vote for him in a heartbeat.

They had a debate the other night and the topic of racial profiling came up. One of his competitors said, and I’m paraphrasing here, that people profile themselves by their actions. I’m not quite sure what that means, but Jesse’s response was basically profiling comes from fear and why are we still afraid of each other? ( Listen to it here.)

Screw racial profiling. It seems that fear informs every major political and societal decision, like gay marriage.

It is time to stop being afraid of each other.

I can’t say it enough… I’m lucky to have these kids - this ever expanding pool of Albanians - in my life.

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Sinus headache from hell is back. I suppose I should thank it for giving me yesterday off - I got a lot done in terms of both the job search and the grad school search.

I think that means it’s time for a nap.

Monday, October 21, 2013

PUPPIES!

(I “borrowed” this pic from Wikipedia… if it’s yours, email me and let me know so I can give credit where credit is due!)

A recruiter is trying to get me an interview for a contract accounting position at a “pet store”. I’m just going to leave it at that, although they neither sell nor manufacture pets.

It’s a six month contract, which is something I’ve been against, but six months gives me something to kill time with while I try to figure out the German citizenship thing, study for the GMAT, and / or continue looking for jobs in the UK. Or, you know, focus on looking for a permanent job in the US…

I’ve already sent my resume there once, on my own, and it remains a place I’d like to work at.

I guess we’ll see…

I need someone to brit-pick my damn blog!

The tube station is Tower HILL. TOWER HILL. Not Tower Bridge.

Dumbass.

Spent a good chunk of yesterday with a massive sinus headache. Couldn’t knit because of the hole in my finger, decided not to read fan fic because all it did was make me want to write more, couldn’t read an actual book because I couldn’t focus on the plot, couldn’t even really focus on the TV.

SO. FUCKING. BORED.

About the only useful thing I did was skim a London tour book I had looking for creepy spots to place bodies. I found quite a few.

It’s really a shame that we’re not going to London before NaNo, because I’d really like to check out the body dump sites for myself.

(HI, US GOVERNMENT! Now that you’re done being children and have time to get back to more important things, are you loving my google searches on writing gay sex, the differences between a .9MM handgun and a .38, blood spatter, knives, serial killers and best places to dump a body in London yet? You’ll notice, too, that I’ve been googling ways to leave the country. I’m sure you’ll put two and two together and get seven, but I wouldn’t expect any less of you morons.)

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side note: tumblr claims ‘Merlin’ is more homoerotic than ‘Sherlock’. With lines like “You’re not going to put it in my mouth!” “I am, and you’re going to swallow!” I can see why.

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Speaking of leaving the country… woke up this morning excited to continue my UK job search. I’m also going to look into UK colleges/universities and research MBA programs today.

I have a friend on FB (a guy I knew during my entire journey through the Manchester public school system, but that’s really as far as it went) who is fascinated by my expat-ing progress. (Yeah. I made a word. Deal with it.) I’ve been discussing it with him pretty in-depth and it’s kind of cool to be able to have those discussions with him.

But I don’t bring that up to talk about becoming an expat, because really, it’s all right there in the first sentence of this section. I bring it up because out of my 91 (92 once I add N’s wife) friends on FB, most of them are people I was - at best - acquaintances with. Now through the magic of the internet and bipolar meds, I’m able to form lasting relationships. REAL friendships. I keep my FB friends under 100 on purpose. If you make the cut, it means you’re really important to me. (Aaaaaawwwwww! Schmoop!)

I think it’s Facebook’s only real value to me right now because I’m losing interest in being on the site all day every day. (Proof that I’m ready to rejoin the living and get out of this depression?)

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While we’re talking schmoop, I had some pretty intense Marlas dreams last night. Nothing but fluff… lots of fluff. Couch cuddles and top of head kisses. Bears polar and the seven dwarfs. Sitting around the portacabin making fun of Carolyn. Playing charades with Arthur (even though we all know that’s a TERRIBLE idea.) Just being cute.

Dog, I miss them. A lot.

I really had no idea how much I missed them until they were gone.

I don’t want to waste all that time I’ve spent doing the research for the casefic, but I’m really leaning towards doing the 30 Day OTP Challenge for NaNo.

Anything to spend more time with my boys…

Sunday, October 20, 2013

Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose

I missed a good part of a 7-3 drubbing of the Wisconsin Badgers last night because I was too deep in my head to notice what was going on.

(Wow. Drubbing’s a weird word choice. Where did that come from?)

Anyhoo… three is a magic number, and right now I have three options:
1) Get a Tier 2 visa (employment sponsorship)
2) Become a German citizen
3) Go to grad school and get an MBA

I think German citizenship is the easiest since I can prove a “right” to citizenship through my mother. Grad school may be the second easiest, and of course, finding a damn job might just be downright impossible. Not that I’m going to stop looking for work, but I do worry that the fact that I don’t have a work visa / sponsorship yet is hurting me. I’m just going to stay positive and throw my CV at every position I fit the requirements for no matter where it is in the UK.

To quote Wayne Gretzky, “You miss 100% of the shots you never take.”

To quote myself, “This the year of flinging stuff and seeing what sticks.”

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I discovered last night that I REALLY miss my versions Douglas and Martin. That’s probably why I couldn’t stop the trilogy at three episodes and kept pushing it out to four and almost five. I still can’t decide what I’m going to do for NaNo. There’s definitely the (getting more attractive) option of doing a 30 day OTP Challenge with those two. I could probably knock out 30 days of 2,000 word vignettes… they wouldn’t have to be related, so that’s nice. I wouldn’t use the leftover bits from the trilogy, but I do like some of the ideas I introduced and maybe I can expand on them or make them better.

Now I see why AtlinMerrick writes so many stories focused on her versions of Sherlock and John.

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Speaking of Sherlock and John:

I’ve spent the past two days charting out/researching the Zodiac and trying to figure out how to move his copycat to London.

You know it’s bad when you spend an hour looking at a map of the city and wondering which lake or pond could best replicate Lake Berryessa. (I think I’m ultimately going to cheat and use the Thames or even the Tower Bridge tube station since that has always struck me as a good place to leave a body.)

You know it’s a bit not good when you start asking, out loud, which college is the best one to dump a body at.

You know it’s probably as bad as it’s going to get when you entertain the possibility of asking British friends where the best make out/parking points were when they were growing up. Even if they’re not in London proper.

The Zodiac bounced around three police jurisdictions which meant it was harder to find him. (I don’t know about law enforcement in England, but it’s well documented that our cops don’t like to work together. In their defence, half the time they didn’t know that an unsolved murder in their jurisdiction may match one in another unless they saw it in the news or something. Now, of course, technology has made it easier for them to all play nice through national fingerprint databases and all that shit…)

I’m pretty sure I’m going to break from the real Zodiac’s path towards the end of the case, too. John always seems to get kidnapped because he’s Sherlock’s weak point, and since there’s a lot of (circumstantial) evidence pointing at a (now dead) man, it seems right that Sherlock solves the unsolvable and delivers a living suspect to the Met.

Besides, if I’m going to fictionalize it, I might as well use the term “based on a true story” and take it from there.

There’s DEFINITELY 50K words there and I’m positive that I can get it done in the 30 days. Maybe sooner if I can get all the research and outline done before November 1st.

*sigh*

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I have a meeting with a recruiter on Wednesday and then there’s one I used to work with that has a position that I might be a good fit for. I’m resending my resume to him and telling him that he needs to submit it…

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Monday’s a new day and I’m starting to feel human again. I’m even going to fit in a much needed haircut and get my Cumberbatch on this week.

It’s going to be a good week… I can feel it.

Friday, October 18, 2013

I’ve got a golden ticket!

The more expensive solicitor humoured me with a little back and forth regarding citizenship matters. (For free!!!!)

I think I’ve mentioned this before, but that lovely (really fragile) little piece of paper up there, written completely in German, and referencing a German city, may allow me to claim German citizenship.

If I can claim German citizenship, we might be able to bypass the Tier 2 sponsored employment bullshit.

I’ve written the German Consulate in Boston, and am going to push this as hard as I can. My mother was not a US Citizen until 1966 which means that for 20 years she was a citizen of… somewhere else. The country she was born in, perhaps? I think they moved to the states in 1949-ish, because (supposedly) she was three when they came here. I can’t find any proof of that and the last time I checked Ancestry.com, they couldn’t prove it either. (Even with the wicked expensive top tier membership.)

I’ve done as much research as I can, but the legalese starts getting ridiculous and then there’s the whole World War II / concentration camp / forced (railroad) workers issue that my grandparents had to deal with. I cannot figure out how that ties into citizenship, but I’ve seen it brought up once or twice.

We’ll see what the Consulate has to say.

In the meantime, I’ll be over here kicking myself for choosing French over German in school…

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According to my father, the only thing my mother really did right by me was to encourage my love of writing, but right now, I think that’s a distant second to her being born in a European country.

The amount of love I can find for this woman in my shriveled little black heart is directly proportional to how successful my attempt at German citizenship is. I’m not going to lie. So, that said…

Dear universe, I’m sure you understand that she OWES me this.

Consider it an even trade for the cigarette burn scar between my eyes (not a chicken pox scar like I tell everyone).

Consider it an even trade for the other scars on my body.

Consider it an even trade for all the mental abuse (and let’s not forget the fucking bipolar).

I really don’t feel like I’m asking for too much - I just want to prove that I’m “German” even if I come from Ukrainian and Polish blood. 

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In other news, one comment, eight kudos and six subscribers (and a partridge in a pear tree) for Hartford.

Fuck. Yeah.