A Cubicle to Call My Own

As if in karmic response to my previous post I got a job last week.  A grown up job, in an office, without a uniform or non-slip shoes.  While I am miffed that I can no longer wallow in self-indulgent jobless despair (read: sit around and eat while watching all the episodes of 30 Rock On Demand) I can't tell you how happy I am to have a job that sounds good when you talk about it.

Yes I can. It's very happy.

Worked an entire day without being coated in syrup! What what?!

I am working for Busch Gardens (and not in the park in a costume, as is my theme park experience thus far) in their Sales and Marketing Department.  Yeah, baby! Corporate. I have an ID card with credentials and permissions to do stuff and touch things.  My official job is a member of the group sales team and I am specifically in charge of travel and tourism.  Essentially, if you and your choir, church group, nudist colony, etc. decide you want to spend a joyous day at Busch Gardens in scenic Williamsburg, VA and you decide to book it through a travel or tourist agency I'm your girl.  So, you know, do that. Keep me hired.

Yesterday was my first day and, through no real fault of my new employer, I've spent the last two days being relatively useless.  It turns out there isn't a whole lot for me to do just yet as I have to wait for all of my fancy (and apparently numerous and disparate) approvals to process so I can do things like turn on the computer, access the internet, and have a stapler.  So I've been enjoying getting paid a handsome enough hourly sum to:
1. Spin in my new office chair
2. Make grocery lists
3. Read every piece of information on Busch Gardens ticketing and tour packages in the entire office multiple times
4. Plan how I'll decorate my little cubicle
5. Consider checking Pinterest for clever cubicle decorating ideas
6. Read a Virginia tourism magazine and make a list of all the places I'd like to visit and things I'd like to do and
7. Stare down the clock and will something to do into existence.

My face during hours 1-8 of my day.

However, the nice ladies I work with (my cubineighbors, if you will) have been attempting to show me a bit of what I'll be doing and it looks like once I'm allowed to work I'll have plenty to keep me busy.  Coupled with my work at the diner on weekends I'll be sleeping like a baby/blackout drunk in no time.

Oh, and I'm sure this is totally no big deal, but I've never even seen a Busch Gardens park before. Guess I know what the fiance and I are doing for this week's Sunday Funday activity.  The trouble is fiance is an engineer by training and, as a result of being too smart, over thinks roller coasters and has the reasonable fear of them most humans should when confronted with something that wants to hurl them through the air at unreasonable speeds held in only by a harness, some G-Forces, and fervently whispered prayer.  I suspect I, being a liberal arts major and completely undaunted by things like "physics" and "logic" and "self-preservation," will get to enjoy the single rider lines.  He is a good sport.

"I'm paying to taunt physics... My God, what have I done?"

Fairy for Hire

The next time you go out for a meal take a moment to consider the wait staff at your restaurant of choice.  Odds are good you are in the midst of a community of scholars (in addition to a few highly successful basement dwellers.) I have multiple degrees from a highly accredited university and I serve breakfast and lunch in a tiny skirt.  I'm not alone.  I know would be biologists, teachers, journalists, doctors, and therapists who spend their expensive educations selling your favorite foods and beverages.  If their lucky.  There is a remarkable phenomenon that is, perhaps not unique to my generation.  We have been incredibly fortunate to receive educations only to tumble out, four years later and probably no wiser, into underemployment.

My graduation photo.

Now, a disclaimer: This is not one of those "Oh pity me! I've been wronged by society! My plan of action for this is to complain to you, the internet!" posts.  No, no, there are countless perfectly timed reasons why I, and many recent college grads, are duking it out for $10 an hour sales jobs.  It doesn't matter why.  What matters is what we're doing about it.  Because, as it turns out, success is all about experience.

I have applied to the following positions since graduating: Visitors Center Representative, Assistant Archivist,  Sales Rep, Sales Rep, Sales Rep, Administrative Assistant at a College, Administrative Assistant at a Business School, Administrative Assistant at somewhere else that needed assistance administrating, Front Desk Host at four different hotels, Concierge at two additional hotels, Group Sales at a theme park, and waitress. I have received several charming form letters telling me that "while we appreciate your interest in *insert job we're not giving you* you can just go suck it. Sincerely, Someone Who has Never Seen your Application." At first, this stings a little but, after the fifth of sixth time your inbox presents the same letter you start to build a callus and streamline your process.  I can now see the subject line and immediately open a pint of ice cream.  No reading required!  

And then she tried to use internships as experience! I kid you not!

   

But don't worry, dear readers, I've persevered and found many interesting and enlightening opportunities to get my bank account out of the double digits.  I returned to my roots and began selling eggs and breakfast meats to people who think I am a.) an unwed mother, b.) a high school dropout, c.) somehow mentally deficient or d.) just waiting for my perfect greasy truck driver to sweep me off my feet.  All of these are, of course, a perfect description of me.  Pay no mind to my lack of child, (do cats count?) college degree, freakishly large vocabulary, and very shiny engagement ring (regrettably, not given to me by a greasy truck driver...)  The trouble is, I'm just not making enough to save the way I'd like.  Lucky for me, an opportunity for a little financial windfall presented itself the other day.

Two elderly gentlemen with impressive ponytails sat at my table and enjoyed their country ham and grits.  As I came to pick up their paid check the man with the longer, more voluptuous ponytail looked up at me and asked, entirely politely, if I would be interested in posing nude for him to draw me for $200.  I didn't speak right away. Not just because I was shocked ($200? That's it? I really should be hitting the gym...) but because $200 was more than I make in a week in tips and a less Catholic-raised girl than myself would have considered the offer.  I, on the other hand, was working on a snappy comeback.  "Oh honey," I held up my engagement ring, "The only guy who's going to get to see me nude spent way more than that." I failed to inform him that that gentleman is still waiting on the return on his investment.  Why crush his spirits further than necessary?  

I'm still not entirely sure he was an artist...

"And then I said, I got yer job experience right here, sweetie!"

So maybe I'm not enjoying that cushy job working in a museum, wearing real clothes, and making enough to actually have a savings account, but I'm definitely gaining experience.  I'm learning resilience. I'm learning to accept rejection (something to which I am rather new.) I'm learning that just because you get told "No" 1000 times doesn't mean the next one isn't going to say "Yes." And I'm learning that it's worth the effort for that one yes.  In fact, it's better to get 1000 "no"s before that "yes" because when that yes finally comes, and it will come, you are going to appreciate that "yes." You're going to love that yes; you're going to get on your knees and cry over that "yes" even if it's not your dream job.  You're going to hang that "yes" on the fridge and take pride in it because you earned that yes.  So fellow grads, stay strong. It's coming. And to all our restaurant patrons, be kind. We're here earning our "yes."

The Pinterest Problem

I apologize for the delay, loyal readers! I had a bit of personal business to attend to back home (read: I have flown to Pittsburgh and back again in the past three days) which kept me from updating sooner this week.  I also felt the burning desire to organize my Pinterest boards which kept me from updating sooner this evening.  Have you developed a Pinterest addiction yet? Ladies, ladies, ladies, if complex recipes and craft suggestions to make things you never knew you needed are your bag let me introduce you to your new worst frenemy.

Follow me and track my downward spiral in to sugary treats and clothes I can't afford.  

Gentlemen and non-crafters, for you there is Reddit. Say goodbye to the sun before starting.

I decided when I made the move to Williamsburg that I was going to take up crafting.  I'm not entirely sure what prompted this but after pinning picture after picture of clever things to make with t-shirts and 100 ways to use a paper doily I have become rather hell-bent on the DIY.  I decided to start with something that required none of the following Pinterest staples:

1.) Sewing
2.) Knitting
3.) Throwing a party
4.) Power tools
5.) A large budget
6.) Artistic flare

With that in mind I chose to make a "coffee filter wreath" in a theme appropriate for one of the most joyous seasons of the year.  That time when people all over the country come together with the ones that have suffered through sorrows and celebrated joys with them year in and year out.  That beautiful season of food, fun, and brutal violence that is the NFL football season. Hang on, I got a bit choked up there just thinking about Troy Polamalu air-tackling some hapless receiver.  Truly majestic.  All right, here's how it went...


How to Make a Steelers Coffee Filter Wreath:  

You will need-
            * about 100 coffee filters
            * yellow food coloring
            * a serious Sharpie
            * a foam wreath form
            * some Steelers fabric and other football themed cute buttons and such
            * a hot glue gun
            * floral wire
            * a screw driver
            * several hours of your life you are willing to sacrifice
            * resilience

1.) Prepare yourself mentally. You are embarking on a journey both physical and spiritual that will test your patience and creativity as well as your kitchen surfaces' stain resistance.  Assemble all your supplies and lay them out in front of you so you feel the weight of your craft decision.

Bask in its filtration-based glory.

2.) Start by dying half of your filters yellow.  Heat some water to a temperature you determine to be hot but not "scald the flesh off" and add yellow food coloring until the water turns a shade akin to the liquid waste of a dehydrated person.  That is Steeler yellow. Deal.  Dip your filters in to the water and allow to soak until you feel they look yellow enough.  Lay them out to dry on paper towels or a sweater you truly hate.  Repeat this process until you appear to have jaundice and 50 filters are a shade of yellow you fancy.

Or just a fancy shade of yellow.

3.) Attempt to repeat the process and dye the remaining half of your filters black.  Realize that no matter how much black food coloring you use, no matter how bruised your entire lower arms look, those suckers are turning purple.  Recalculate. There is no way you are accidentally making a Ravens wreath.  Ray Lewis didn't "accidentally" kill a guy.  Sharpies. Sharpies are the way to go here.

Pictured: tedium.

Proceed to burn through three brand new Sharpies.  Apologize to your fiance for destroying the entire household marker supply.  Buy the Sharpie Magnum because you are done playing around.

Game on, coffee filters.

4.) Hours later you will emerge, Sharpie stained and a little high from the fumes.  It's time to play with fabric because you are a little angry with the coffee filters despite them being inanimate objects and having never insulted your family.  Reasoning is diminished on a Sharpie buzz.  Take your Steelers fabric and cut a long strip slightly wider than you would want a ribbon.  Fold the edges of the fabric about 1/4 inch from the edge and place a floral wire against the crease.  Use your hot glue gun, your mighty Excalibur of crafting, to glue the edges down over the floral wire to make a smooth-sided ribbon of Steelers fabric.  You can then fold that ribbon in to any sort of bow shape you like.  Maybe your feeling hair bow today, or perhaps a nice Christmas present topper.  You just spent hours dying coffee filters. You do what you want.

The black and yellow rhinestones add that touch of sparkle former Fairy Godmothers crave without the overwhelming shine that attracts raccoon.

5.) Use additional Steelers fabric to make a few accent flower shapes.  Cut out three circles of coffee filter size per flower and fold the fabric over itself to make pleats.  Attach the three pleated fan shaped pieces that should result from this folding and glue the accent button of your choice in the middle.  A football button would probably be nice but, hey, throw a baseball in there to confuse people. No judgement from this tutorial.

6.) Now it's time to get aggressive. Put on your game face.  Evaluate whether your game face is also your "ate bad Mexican food" face.  Something to think about while you work.  Take your screw driver and place the tip in the center of a coffee filter.  Wrap the filter around the screw driver and jam that sucker in to the foam wreath mold like it deserves it.  That oughta hold it. Repeat process 99 more times remembering to vary your color placement to avoid bumble bee stripes.

There's a certain Black Dahlia quality to the Sharpied coffee filter. Excuse me while I make sure my door is locked...

7.) The Big Finish! Attach your stylish bow and flower shapes and anything else necessary to cover any sketchy looking patches with hot glue and/or brute force.  Stand back and admire your work.  Taunt it a little.  Tell it who's boss.  Who the crafter? You the crafter! Take a picture to show your mom and coworkers.

...and blog readers.

8.) Hang that beast up and wait patiently for compliments to pour in!  But don't get too cocky.  This was only a Level 1 Pinterest Problem.

BOOM BABY! CRAFTALAFTIN'!