Big Hair Jobs

I can make my hair look like this. In fact, it probably looks like hers right now. Plus, I"m pretty sure this job is in my future.

Phone calls from my temp agency cause two immediate feelings: happiness and dread. I prefer working and get a little excited at the possibility of making my car payment or having the money to get my roots done. (It all comes back to hair!) But I also have learned to live with the feeling of dread. Companies don't use employment/temporary agencies to fill jobs that I am interested in or qualified for. Especially in this economy.

Happiness and dread go hand in hand in lots of situations. But let's not go there.

"The trouble with unemployment is that you wake up in the morning and you're on the job."
Slappy White

Temporary Insanity

As I continue to pursue full-time employment in my field (along with nine million other people,) I have been working for a temporary agency to help make ends meet.

Ok, that's a joke. The ends are not meeting. They don't even reside in the same hemisphere. But, I figure every little bit helps.

I have taken on a few assignments -- each a little more humiliating than the last. I'm currently working for a non-profit agency, soliciting business people to participate in a fund-raising event. The job is fine. I am of the mindset that if you give me a job, I will do it to the best of my ability. Apparently this is not the norm. This particular office acts as if none of us can read, write, etc. We have little games and contests to win ridiculous prizes that I immediately throw away.

I'm excited to give you a glimpse of this world but I must run off to the "office" to work and see what activities are in store for today.

"I have enough money to last me the rest of my life unless I buy something."
Jackie Mason

Sexting

When I was a young girl, our way of letting a boy know we had a crush on him was to:

Pass a note to a girlfriend hoping she would let someone know who could pass the information along to him.
Or, call his house and hang up. This usually happened during sleepovers.

We did not have caller ID. Many of us still had party lines. Even so, teenagers are usually pretty transparent and it's not hard to figure out who has a crush on whom.

Technology has given us many gifts but it has also opened Pandora's box. A survey discussed on morning television today cited that one in five teenage girls admits to sending nude or semi-nude photos of herself to a boy. Apparently, boys are also photographing and posting their private parts.

I can be self-righteous about this because I have never done it and will never do it. But even in my carefree, pre-Internet, pre-social networking and naive days, I NEVER would have allowed a nude photo of myself. Even I was smart enough to realize there would still be negatives that could be redeveloped. There would still be break-ups where people forgot to gather the incriminating evidence.

What seems like a joke, a funny stunt or a dare can become life altering. I would hate to see a loved one denied law school admission because of some slutty photos on My Space. I would hate to see the look on the groom's face when his "friends" show him the wild and reckless days of the bride. I would hate to sit in a job interview and realize the person I am asking to hire me has seen me nude because he's linked in. This all happens. Seemingly, every day.

I've only recently learned to text. Once again, I'm way behind. Once again, I'm glad.

Dogs with Jobs

After the horrific experience of 9/11/01 and the constant coverage of rescue and recovery, we were amazed at the heroics of policemen, firemen, ordinary citizens jumping in, etc. Can you believe that was almost six years ago?

Our old dog was with us then. Every news story showed a dog digging through the rubble. The husband used to say, "Look Holly, dogs with jobs."

We are Lab people. That is our breed of choice. Sometimes our newspaper will feature a Lab who has saved someone or serves as their seeing eye dog or helper. We have a tough time imagining our puppy serving in this capacity since her biggest talent seems to be knocking people down.

Dalmatians are usually identified as fire dogs. German Shepard's are usually identified as police dogs. Labs are the rescue dogs.

The only thing my Lab will rescue is her toy in the back yard. Then she'll probably jump on one of the oldies and I'll make another trip to the hospital. She's never actually hurt them but we've skirted around it. The mother-in-law loves to throw her ball but then you have to squinch your eyes, knock on wood and say a quick prayer that she won't throw herself on this tiny person.

The husband thinks she needs more training. I think she needs a job.