A Good Job is Hard to Find

I have yet to beat myself into applying for jobs unrelated to the field I have so far enjoyed, and in which I can actually boast experience. Ah, libraries - so quiet, well-ordered, and filled with an unmistakable air of pseudo-intellectualism.

However, there seems to be a prejudice against me, somehow. I've applied for about 7 positions, most full-time but one half-time, and I was unmistakably qualified for all of them (and not overqualified, either), but I haven't heard a word from any of them. Maybe it's the fact that the mailing address currently listed is for Florida - but I did specify that I would be moving as soon as possible (i.e., as soon as I could get a job), and that I'd be happy to fly into town for an interview. Maybe it's the fact that the undergraduate degree I have bears the stigma of the liberal arts, i.e., it saith, to the unenlightened, "I did nothing nothing useful in college". Maybe it's the fact that I'm 23. I mean, old people sue for age descrimination, but to be honest, for all I can tell, they're not the ones who actually suffer from that sort of thing in the working world. Sometimes I think people see my birthyear and think, "Goodness, in 1985 I was (insert adult activity here) - she couldn't know what she was doing. That's just crazy young."

So, I am rather torn, here. Do I stall myself out in the job hunt, out of a preference for a "career" I'm (hopefully) not going to keep all that long? Or, rather, do I just knuckle under and apply for some pathetic secretarial job I may very well end up hating?

Hmmmmmm . . .

Griping

I once saw a cartoon (courtesy of Kakashi, I believe) a very long time ago, that more or less satirized all blogs as public forums for personal (and often very stereotypical) complaints.

I also recall, once, when I was having to write a persuasive speech on a subject I didn't care about, that frustration seemed to be the only surefire way of motivating my muse. If something didn't make me mad, or, moreover, if I thought that the subject was so frustrating it was pointless to talk about it anymore, I couldn't write very well.

Now, my father has held, and continues to hold, that I have a gift for the turning of phrases, and that my highschool journalistic aspirations need not and ought not be tossed aside lightly.

However, the world doesn't need another barking dog.

What I want to know is whether I will ever be virtuous enough to write (and write well) when not griping about something? Reading my old posts, I can dig up a few pithy gems which were written in good humor. However, they were all written during college.

. . .

So, in that case, let me qualify my question: will I ever, apart from a near ideal social setting, be virtuous enough to 1) want to write, and 2) write well, when I'm not complaining?

Now, truth be told, there are lots of happy things I could, theoretically, write about. However, all of my really happy things currently live in the land of potentia, and for that reason it seems to me that they ought to be treated as sacred. They ought not be written about like any other mundane thing. They should be saved up in silence until they reach actuality, right?

. . .

Student Surveys

So, I'm still processing nearly 200 student surveys for my academic library. It's very boring, and when it's not boring it's frustrating, because inevitably the students who give more than the required information state that they want the library open all night long or they want to be able to bring in their coffee and sticky rolls (we used to let them do this until the spills, sticky tables, molding food under the furniture and abandoned trash got out of hand) or they want free printing/copying (this is the Engineering dept.'s prerogative, not ours) or they want special access to the library if they're music students (the security department isn't about to let people wander in here after hours just for the sake of rehearsal rooms - especially with all of Mr. Monaghan's art all over the place. Once again, not our prerogative.), blahdity blah blah blah. Arg! students can be such little beasties. I know, more grumpy bug Emily. Grumpity grump grump grump.

However, today, one student managed to brighten the drudgery:

-How could the Library be improved? Please include any comments, ideas, or suggestions for the Library.
We need smoke machines, black lights and rave music. Oh, and free coffee, too.

Do you have any special needs or disabilities you would like the library to accommodate, and if so, how would you like them to be accommodated?
I have moderate to severe ADD and a complete lack of motivation.
Please fix that.

oh, and God bless.

LOL. I guess I'm a little less grumpy now.

I'm working on Saturday and

How upsetting it is

to look about me and think of the things that might have been.


BNF PARIS




HANDELINGENKAMER TWEEDE KAMER DER STATEN-GENERAAL DEN HAAG




BIBLIOTECA DE LA REAL ACADEMIA DE LA LENGUA MADRID




REAL GABINETE PORTUGUES DE LEITURA RIO DE JANEIRO




TRINITY COLLEGE, DUBLIN




OXFORD UNIVERSITY, ENGLAND




STRAHOVSKA KNIHOVNA PRAHA




RIJKMUSEUM AMSTERDAM




STIFTSBIBLIOTHEK ST. GALLEN

Grumpy

Really, this is getting out of hand. I am WAY too grumpy these days in general, and I am WAY WAY too grumpy for a four-day weekend.

My dormpartment is a total mess.
GRUMP
I turn 23 tomorrow.
GRUMP
That blah graduation ceremony just wasted three and a half hours of our lives.
GRUMPITY GRUMP GRUMP GRUMP

. . . Maybe I should go to confession. That tends to put things in perspective. Then, as a self-inflicted penance, I can just say the serenity prayer every time I start to think a grumpy thought.

*sigh*

Maybe Fr. Fessio is in his room down the hall . . .

Using your Big Brother

This is the coolest thing I've seen in a long time. This British rock band took advantage of the insane number of TV cameras in their part of the world (one for every 14 people, or thereabouts), and cooked themselves up a music video. They performed this piece in front of cameras in about 80 different locations. Thanks to You Tube and Gizmodo for the heads-up.

Explanations and Elaborations

Well, truth be told, my husband and I *did* go back to regular grocery-store food this week (with some adjustments to accommodate the prescribed dietary requirements. I was pretty much always buying the sort of stuff she prescribes - just not USDA-certified organic. Like I said, my meals have never been the processed/microwavable/canned variety - I may not like the studies and hype but I was raised by a nutritionist), and our grocery bill settled itself right back down into the previous, non-astronomical range we were more accustomed to. However, it has come to my attention, ahem, that perhaps I might need to elaborate upon the particulars of my situation and/or clarify my intentions. I ought to have done so earlier - mea culpa.

First, a word on where we live:
We live in Southwest Florida.

The produce:
Big stinky trucks of produce originate here, and just in case there might be any doubt - they're stinky before they leave. There is a local farmers market, but from what I hear it's just poor, overworked Jose making a few extra bucks off the stuff that didn't make it onto the last stinky truck. :-/ Cheap? Yes. Good? Not so much. It all comes off the same commercialized, badly run farms.

The culture:
This is one, big, very sad geriatrics ward. People have always come here searching for the fountain of youth, and try as they may they're still not finding it. The charming old people you once knew don't live here - these people are 65 going on 14. There is almost no culture here (at least, I haven't been able to find it over the past 9 months, try as I might) - only that which is conducive to materialism.

The (unfortunately, not previously laid out) context:
This part of the world focuses on selling things to the people described above, whose financial wherewithal is massive. Now, the natural foods market in this area is marketing primarily, if not exclusively, to that group of people and their income bracket. They rely on hype from the media to tell these old people that such-and-such kind of food will keep them alive that much longer, and then they fleece them, since they're willing to pay whatever it takes to, presumably, keep that grim old reaper at bay for one more hour. These old, unwise, difficult persons are the idiots to which I was referring in my previous post. Far be it from me to call well-intentioned people idiots - no doubt many people have found some way to provide themselves with affordable organic food, when and how they may. One of them is my mother, in fact. However, you have to be blind not to notice that there's a sizable section of the popular media which positively thrives off the hype that promotes the newest, coolest nutrition information. Given that fact and the situation here in general, there is no doubt in the world that we were "had" last week, and I'm still feeling pretty dumb for letting it happen.

Granted, in my previous post on this issue I was, uhm, quite flip - mainly because I was ticked off (that happens with me a little . . . too often, so I apologize. Tasik, slap me). More or less, my biggest beef is that I think that organic food producers and marketing is in no way exempt from the consumerist, capitalist culture we live in (i.e., the men in expensive suits are more prevalent than you'd think), and in all honesty, at least in my part of the world (which is, admittedly, quite possibly one of the worst places in this country), I really can't figure how the nebulous whoever-they-are aren't milking it for all it's worth. Moreover, the fact that I was raised to appreciate local business, local farmers, and good wholesome food makes it all the more horrific that such good things could be thus abused for filthy lucre.

ALSO, one other thing that's really been bugging me: does it not bother anyone else that, inevitably, when going to your local health-food joint, you're standing right next to our cultural enemy, i.e., liberal, new-aged, America? Perhaps it's less obvious in California, since so much of California bears that general, uhm, atmosphere, but I find it a bit startling. Now, it has occurred to me that there are certain of aspects of liberal ideology which might be part-and-parcel to this whole ordeal. Wouldn't it be rather advantageous to the liberal cause if the only people who could comfortably afford the nutritious food would be the people with two incomes and no kids? I'm not saying anyone planned it that way, but it sure is an unsettling irony.

So, moving onto a point for point: shopping my local farmers' market.
Already addressed that one above. Truth be told, I haven't yet been able to go check it out and verify the reports, as it's only open during the hours I'm expected to be at work. However, we should be moving soon, and I know the whereabouts of lots of farmers markets in the town we're moving to - I look forward to being able to visit them again.

Making farmer friends:
We would, but . . . we don't speak Spanish. :-/

Having a weekly meal plan:
Well, I guess I didn't say as much in my post, but that's precisely what we'd done last week - in fact, more so than I'd ever done. I sat myself down and lined out precisely what we'd need, narrowing down the meals prescribed by "the book" to only the necessary items for three meal-days (that is, I expected to rotate three breakfasts, three lunches and three dinners for the week, as we can't go into town very frequently. It's an hour drive each way). There were no impulse buys, whatsoever. Moreover, I almost never impulse buy anyway, as I shop with my husband, and . . . yeah, randomness is not something he's naturally inclined to appreciate, especially when it costs something. He gets rather put out with me if I don't go in with a written-out list, or at least a conceptualized plan for the meals, as, if I don't, it usually means we take WAY too long in the store and end up forgetting most of what we need.

Stewards of the earth:
Like I said, big business is big business, and the local Wild Oats looks as much of a corporate monster as any I've encountered. It's not like I disbelieve the accounts of foreclosing farms or the fact that real, honest agriculture is in shambles - full well I know that that's true. I'm just not so sure that Wild Oats isn't part of the problem. Heck, don't get me wrong, I'd be happy to give Jose a few extra bucks (if I could find the time to do it) since he's probably a more responsible recipient of cash than the monstrosity named Wild Oats (a.k.a., "Whole Foods Market") - excepting the fact that even his stuff isn't the organic, correctly farmed, stuff-o-goodness the doctor ordered. However (some would say unfortunately, and in some ways I'd be about, oh, maybe a fourth inclined to agree with them), not everywhere in the world is like California - heck, not everywhere in the world is like my home back in the midwest, even. There were real farmers there, and fortunately we will probably be moving back there soon. However, in the here and now . . . *shrug*

Factory contamination:
I mentioned this in an intentionally flip fashion as a sarcastic barb at the rather wild claims I've typically received for why-organic-food-will-save-your-life. My question is not whether organic food is good, or even whether it's better than the mainstream stuff, it's just whether it's the hill my pocketbook has to die on. Now, even in the future I have to admit that I may always have a hard time precisely keeping the full-gamut of organic/local food demands, as I'm more of a homebody than most and hate the concept of shopping so very hard for food, but I can at least have my own little garden, and shop at the farmers' market on the weekends. I will admit, though, that I have a disdain for all the scientific studies out there, mainly because I just plain don't trust the people doing them. My mother, however, is a nutritionist - both her educational formation and her deeper patience makes her friendlier to all the flashy hype that annoys me into a tizzy in about half a nanosecond. Now, Sarah has recommended this aforementioned cookbook to me, and my mother says she actually already owns it so I can borrow it when we move home, and I plan to . . . I have been informed that there are things in there which I would find compelling. I guess we'll know more about that soon.

Most of all, I'm really bothered by the notion that buying organic is somehow going to fix, or sidestep, the problem of capitalism. There's no reason to presume that organic foods are more expensive because the people who grow them happen to be unusually ethical in their business practices - heck, even most Catholic institutions don't bother to pay more than what the market-established salary demands for a job, and they have piles of encyclicals telling them to do otherwise. I mean, it would be nice if organic grower-people were so very ethical - virtue is good. Perhaps in some parts of the world they are that way? Who's to say? If you know of the place, tell me where it is. We should all move there.

So, Ignoramus, if you're reading this - - remind me to ask you what affordable outlets you guys have located around here, as I'm presuming that you guys have need of health food stores.

more on the diet

Okay, so I had some success with the diet last week, but I'm unsure whether it was due to the diet, per se, or to last week's committment to getting some exercise every day. For now, I'm going to presume it was both. It's not going to kill me - I mean, after all, a diet that requires me to eat things like this for a snack:



yeah, uhm, I hardly need anyone to twist my arm.