what is God trying to tell me…

so…we are being released in groups from work. our HR positions have been splintered and shipped to india. the majority of my department left, only to leave a group of us to do menial tasks, at best.

my bestest bestest work bud/friend was apart of the first group. we had worked together for three years…i even trained him on his function and can remember the very first day we met and that he wore a suit and tie. we laughed about that much much later, having watched our semi-stuffy typically corporate department fall apart.

i heard from him recently. prior to his exit, i had discussed with him that i’d have my resume re-structured and after the finished product i let him see it. he wanted to copy the format to see if it would garner attention. which was fine. we had spent many many many days discussing dreams, academics, disappointments, anxiety, disdain with our environment…countless days sharing the success stories of other people who seemingly get awesome jobs and/or strokes of luck while we had felt so left behind in the process. sometimes our conversations would literally turn my stressful days into good ones. we are both guitar players and video game addicts, imeem fiends and so on…

well, as fate would have it he landed a dynamic job, for a cool company, making almost twenty thousand dollars more. the opportunities for stuff he never should have been denied were even offered in this new role. possibly contributing to the success other than copying the resume format was getting an MBA, as well after busting his arse working and going to school for years.

i say this…to say this. if that resume’s worth was to get him a job and never have any pay off value for me…the money is by far not wasted…even if it never works for me. he’s a dynamic guy who will go far and in whom i believe in…to the very core of me.

and i say this…also to say this. if my resume’s format isn’t working for me…and i have a master’s…of all the places i’ve been applying to for months on end without any gain…what is God trying to tell me?

i support adult recess

everyone jokes about how recess was cool. little kids screeching about, running like deer across the tar landscape of a schoolyard. i believe that as adults…we should be allowed this sacred time…amidst…credit card bills, crap jobs, crazy employees, computers and their wardrobe malfunctions, bad songs, bad music, bad love, bad marriages, bad food…outsourcing, greenland melting, nutzo neighbors, a late train, catching no taxis…student loan payments and on and on an on.

but…i’ve also decided to brag on finding my ultimate recess partner. having spent a weekend at the beach…falling in the ocean, jumping waves, losing my top in the ocean then adjusting it right back in place (indecency fines would ruin me), playing paddleball off the coast of the atlantic and sand-diving, eating like a pig(gy pig), finishing all that alice white, seeing ‘the dark knight’ at midnight, craving britt’s donuts, biting people…and observing and cherishing life with the crazy silly person who gets me in a subtle mix of play play…and serious seriousness…well, in short…

i support adult recess time. let the movement across america…begin.

think outside the…

there are certain phrases that i hate. for some reason the mention of them, no matter how cute or steamy the sayer…the repetition of ‘it’ drives me into a fit of helpless rage.

i, heartbreak, admit that i hate the term, “think outside the box.” for first…who the eff said i think in a box? i would like to imagine my thoughts are more circles or bright clouds…or um…in the shapes of floating leather jackets or um…barbie plastic sandle shoes. or lego blocks. or the facial frontal creative canvas of an etch-a-sketch. not a freakin box.

anyway…i’ve newly discovered a way to channel my distraughtful thoughts. oft i get locked into a frenzied mind-dance of self-doubt & defeat…but if i calm down enough to look at the issue from a whole new perspective…opportunity sprouts like a freakin newborn tree. try it sometime but the equation to equal anything requires a bit of trouble or agony…a puzzle…a problem.

for example. i am having zero luck pinning down a job in my old categories. but…i’ve learned through a bit more researching that my current position (soon to be over) coupled with a bit of my interest…a bit of my passion…equals a whole new crop of jobs to apply for.

so try this…

your issue, sprinkled with time…a new perspective…then move.

more specific??

my degree (master’s and bachelor’s) is in journalism, my professional background HR…my passion is in communications/writing…these facts open up many other possibilities i’ve never searched for…hence
technical writing (for i’ve written many procedures)
direct marketing (communication and writing again…in a corporate yet more expansive market)
public relations
advising/counseling/recruiting
i’m web saavy…
so, web marketing / research
and…
after hearing slowjams.com on the radio over the weekend…i’d love to dj an internet radio show…
and on and on…

don’t give in…just keep going.

here’s to thinking outside…you.

and…dot dot dot

being told that someone loves your arteries and veins…is like whoa!

my love is like whoa…mya

cell phone love

the last several times i’ve been out to lunch or dinner, i’ve noticed an interesting phenomena. couples out for presumably dining and social purposes yet both or one is waaay preoccupied with their cell phone.

if i’m out with mine, i wanna push my phone as far down into my purse as possible and shut the ringtone off. all that really matters to me is right in front of me…preferably engaged in me while we have a fine dinner, characteristically great conversation, flirty laffs and touches and no cell phone intruding on our time.

what is this new thing? cuz i sure as hell don’t like it…it’s none of my business what others allow in and out of their relationships, and maybe it is for an e-business, a family emergency, but if we lovers stop paying attention to OUR lovers…no doubt…we soon may be all alone.

this entry sorta comes from something my pastor talked about this morning. how certain members of the congregation are texting or checking email during church. and that the reason the people are probably at church seeking help in the first place is because of a problem or issue that that very same person on the other end of the cell or text said or did. well, who knows but there is such a thing as giving too much attention to the wrong thing…and missing out on the blessing. there is such a thing as reveling in the bad enough to totally miss the good. there is a destructive nature to trying to be everybody’s someone and totally missing the one who is or could have been your everything.

2 names

to find…musically
head and neck sessions
and
atmosphere (i know, enuff already)
now…go!

oh, and old curtis mayfield albums.

now…go.

let me in!

i keep applying to jobs in HR for the sake of working on a college campus and finally did hear back from my columbia contact positively but why everything gotta take sooooooooo long? as a student at boston university, i was convinced that there was nothing i couldn’t do. world at my fingertips, libraries for research and study, the green line…good varied, eclectic friends and my cool resident advisor, good food, legal seafood and tower records. making a commercial for doc marten shoes in cambridge for class, photography class and stories about a photo shoot with andy warhol, paula cole and sarah mclachlan singing for free, the hatch shell, seeing cassandra wilson live, free access into the real world boston fire station house, maya angelou in the alley way showing love to the crowd and i. seeing natalie portman in ‘the diary of anne frank,’ walking past cornel west. shopping at tower records beside the band smashmouth. tanya donnelly of belly flirting with my neighbor, joe. john travolta dancing in the park one late night for a film. not being able to catch the T when there was a game at the fenway. brighton and star market. hmmm, i’ve gotten carried away.

anyway. where was i?

dayum!

keep the faith. always keep the faith….ok? u promise?

ok.

i heart writing but…

it’s saturday. the saturday after my most favorite holiday, july 4. the mid-morning air is crisp and moving lightly in underneath the bottom of my open window. my ‘wanna be’ cool dark wood shades for world market allow a nice view of the street…my neighbor’s home across the way, the occasional jogger and the tree in my yard. my music is soft and i’ve just updated some writing of mine that i am really really excited and scared about.

i have been aware for a long time now…that writing is what i am supposed to do. it cleanses me and it moves me…it captivates me and reassures me. it is what is and what has always gotten me by. it is my best friend and my love. it is my answer and it holds all my questions. it is my beginning and no doubt, my end.

and even though it has proven from time to time to be mine…my power and my weakness. the thing that catches all my quirks…all my weirdness it still evades me as to what i want to do with it to earn a living…to be my lifestyle. i’ve always had to two-time it…cheat on it by having a 9-5. not because this is what i want.

i love writing so much that i enrolled in it as an undergrad…graduated in it as a master’s…and yet am still stuck as to how to get in. even, how to pave my way in this field. yet somehow i guess i’m thankful because the frustration has pushed me to write. i guess i’ll always need that wicked mix…but i’d prefer to do it…and get paid. stay true to my creativity…still.

i guess i’m bitter too. going to college, i had some scholarships but loans also. hence debt. and that debt the chain…linking me to the slavery of being financially indebted to the system, not free enough to roam about and be that bohemian writergirl i’ve always dreamed about. it’s tough smiling for the man, sitting in his cubicle while he forces me to tussle with his paper work for a small payment, bad health benefits and little incentive. especially compared to what he makes.

according to the center for american progress:
“The New York Times recently reported that the average CEO made nearly $10 million last year. That’s the average salary for CEOs at 179 large companies. The average worker, on the other hand, earns just under $30,000 per year, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics. This means that CEOs now take home upwards of 250 times the average worker’s wage.”

contemplative. angry. and stuck.
living as a debt slave in this society…debt to major corporations and living in an economic environment that is outsourcing jobs and just not growing right now thanks to 8 years of the very unapologetic bush and cheney regime.

being financially stuck makes one stilted. you can’t travel, you can’t learn other countries, you can’t eat as healthy, you have to suffice with less effective medications, you have to live less safe, you have to work through despite every inch of your body telling you that you need to rest. it’s a vicious way of living with no easy out…except winning the lottery…and we all know those odds.

all this and my life could be worse…i do watch the evening news with my hand over my eyes. but i suggest that we…those who make less than say the average workers $47,000 a year…if WE banded together to change the price of gasoline, to demand banking corporations be less predatory, to demand equal rights, better health care…if we could forget about our racial divide and focus on what really matters…our survival in the world, and having a substantial financial mound to grow from…to allow our kids a better future…then…what are we waiting for? the amount of us making under $47,000 are…we are the majority.

for more insight…read paul krugman’s article, “the great wealth transfer.”

along these lines…here’s ‘guarantees’ by atmosphere who is a rapper who’s been in the game for a minute now. he’s freeekin’ genius…

what are we waiting for? we are actually sitting on power. untapped power to change the … our horizon.