Time for another chapter in the story of me to close. For the past six months I have been under the employment of a Canadian company, the Yellow Pages Group. Sound familiar? Yep, it is pretty much the same thing as the Yellow Pages of our country. I would describe my job to you, but I'd feel like that guy in Office Space trying to explain the idiosyncracies of the Y2K computer fiasco. My job is only slightly more interesting than that and I am happy to be done with it.
One funny thing about my job, or my whole office rather, is that we are outsourced. Isn't it funny to think of being an outsourced American? And we are outsourced in every sense of the word: we are underpaid, have crappier facilities, worse benefits packages, and our opinions of how the work should be handled are generally ignored. Now, I am sure that the third world countries we outsource to probably have it worse than we do, but you get the idea. When I make phone calls to our customers in Canada I have to try and avoid answering the question of where I am from, due to previous outrage by "pro-Canada" customers. That's right, Canadians can hate seeing Canadian jobs going to Americans, just as some Americans don't like seeing American jobs go to Indians or anyone else outside of the country. There is a popular backpacker phrase that you see on lots of grungy traveler's t-shirts: "Same, same, but different." The older I get, the more I get that phrase.
So what is my opinion of office work now that I have spent 1/50 of my life working in one? Sucks, to be honest. I am not a fan of doing the same thing, over and over, day after day, sitting in the same cubicle, writing up the same reports, and, worst of all, staring at a computer ALL day. I don't even like computers. Why do think I write so sporadically on my blog? I have lots of thoughts, I just have a hard time bringing myself to sit down at my computer at home after being here all day. Hopefully now that I won't be doing this any more, I will find more motivation to write to you guys out there in internet land.
I know that in every profession you find people that hate their lives, and maybe it is the fluorescent lighting or the excess grays and blues and whites of the office decor, but man, some people here just look so lifeless and miserable. I don't do data entry, but that is what the majority of the office is dedicated to, and I could see how years of that kind of mindless work could be somewhat draining. Maybe I really shouldn't generalize, though. It just makes me so sad to see people who are always angry, or annoyed, complaining endlessly about the people who spill sugar near the coffee machine or don't refill the ice trays. Valid complaints though they may be, I just don't want something like that to ruin my day.
So now I am pursuing my Master's degree with the hopes of maybe teaching highschool English, while also trying to get some writing out there. I have mentioned to people before that I hate the politics and beaurocracy that go with working in a corporate environment as I do now. They usually follow that with, "And you want to be a TEACHER?" Ok, I KNOW there is a ton of BS you have to deal with, especially in the public school system, ESPECIALLY in a crappy economy, but that is fine. I have never been one to take the easy road (foolish as that has been on occasion) and I don't mind putting up with crap if it means I can at least try to represent the needs of students. I think it totally sucks that some kids are screwed from the start because their school has no funding, exhausted teachers and whatever other obstacles kids just shouldn't have to deal with at that age. But I digress, education is a blog post all on its own, one I will address sometime later when I have a more educated opinion on the matter.
For now, I will be happily serving food and drink to the patrons of Molly Maguire's, a pseudo-Irish pub in lovely Lansdale, while I study and try to figure out a life for me and my wonderful boyfriend. It is 11:15 am on Friday the 12th of August. I am cleaning up my open accounts, manning the phone lines while my soon-to-be-former colleagues are in training all day, and listening to bagpipe music on YouTube (don't ask why, I have no real answer). My last day in an office. Feels about the same as my first.
"Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky." ~ Rabindranath Tagore
Friday, August 12, 2011
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Acceptance
Deadlines are totally NOT my thing. No matter what the deadline is, I have a pretty hard time sticking to it. I prefer to work at my own, leisurely pace. Don't we all? Maybe it is because I was raised more or less as an only child and I am used to doing things the way I want. Maybe it is because I consider myself an artist (with words at least since I can't draw a straight line to save my life) and I simply can't be done until the inspiration in my head tells the work is finished. Maybe I am just lazy. Yep, probably that last one.
Well, West Chester University didn't seem to mind me missing their application deadline and I have been officially accepted into the English Masters program for fall 2011! Woo! Higher learning! Time to party! Oh, wait. That was my undergrad studies. Graduate school I actually have to study and learn and not spend the whole time trying to find a good kegger to spend my Friday (or Tuesday) night. Hmm, I guess I'll go anyway.
I am excited to get back into school. I feel like I could have done so much more with years in the Bachelor program. I got so swept up in the whole college thing, making friends, going to parties, carving out my own little life in West Chester, that I kind of forget to put my whole self into school. Now I won't be living in West Chester and grad school is bit too important (and expensive) to screw around with. I'm paying my way through grad school, hopefully without the use of student loans, and I intend on making it worth my while. The job market blows and I need some good credentials if I am going to live up to my dreams of falling into the perfect career that pays me what I am worth to do something I love. Ok, I know that is almost certainly NOT going to happen, but hey, if I aim high, maybe I can end up somewhere in the middle? I could be OK with that.
I don't have SUPER high expectations for my life, but I do have some standards I would like to keep. First, I need to be intelligent and well read. I know school and learning is not for everyone, but it is for me. When I used to do poorly in school my dad would yell at me and tell me I am not lucky enough to have the excuse of being stupid to explain my bad grades. He was right. I am not stupid. I am actually pretty smart. Just, as I mentioned earlier, lazy. Well, that is a habit I am trying to break. In the past I would slack on my homework to hang out with my friends. I was always afraid if I didn't see my friends as frequently as I could they would forget about me and find someone better to hang out with. I am now a bit older and understand that usually doesn't happen. And if it does, good riddance to those lousy friends. I know my real friends will understand that I am busy with school and when I finish my homework early or am on holiday break we can party it up. I am sure I will need it.
Another thing I need to do with my life is travel. I love hanging out around my house and around town. I can be a real homebody most of the time and be fine with that. Tom likes to garden and do yard work and I like to clean and keep a nice place. BUT, not all the time. Neither of us want a big house. We want a small, easy to care for, affordable house that does not run us dry because we need to travel. Maybe not every year, but I need to go back to Thailand to visit some friends sometime. Oh yeah, we have spent some months in South East Asia. That is a story for another time, though. The point is, it is awesome over there and I would move in a heart beat if I didn't love my family and friends so much. You guys really suck, you know?
I want to be able to give my kid(s) a good life, too. Now, one child sounds like enough to me, but I leave room open for a second one to be, hopefully, adopted. I am a woman and of course I have that silly maternal feeling that just bugs me to have a child of my own. And one of those would be plenty. If I decided that I wanted a second child, they would definitely have to be adopted. It is a real shame how many kids are born into this world and left with nothing before they even get started. I can't save the world, but helping out one kid by bringing them into our family would feel pretty good I think. And I don't want more than one or two children because I want to provide everything I can for them and I just don't feel like I could provide enough attention and/ or money to more than that. Like I said, I can be kind of lazy. And while I hope that I am not a lazy mother, I still need some down time. More than one or two kids and I can't imagine you get much of that. Even with just one kid I am sure you don't get much down time at all. I hear they are a pretty full time job.
In summary, a halfway decent career, a modest house, a chance to leave the country once in a while and 1-2 children. That is what I would like to aim for in life. I don't think that is too much, right? Well, step one: get into grad school. Check.
"Where your talents and the needs of the world cross lies your calling." ~ Aristotle
Let's hope so, bra.
Well, West Chester University didn't seem to mind me missing their application deadline and I have been officially accepted into the English Masters program for fall 2011! Woo! Higher learning! Time to party! Oh, wait. That was my undergrad studies. Graduate school I actually have to study and learn and not spend the whole time trying to find a good kegger to spend my Friday (or Tuesday) night. Hmm, I guess I'll go anyway.
I am excited to get back into school. I feel like I could have done so much more with years in the Bachelor program. I got so swept up in the whole college thing, making friends, going to parties, carving out my own little life in West Chester, that I kind of forget to put my whole self into school. Now I won't be living in West Chester and grad school is bit too important (and expensive) to screw around with. I'm paying my way through grad school, hopefully without the use of student loans, and I intend on making it worth my while. The job market blows and I need some good credentials if I am going to live up to my dreams of falling into the perfect career that pays me what I am worth to do something I love. Ok, I know that is almost certainly NOT going to happen, but hey, if I aim high, maybe I can end up somewhere in the middle? I could be OK with that.
I don't have SUPER high expectations for my life, but I do have some standards I would like to keep. First, I need to be intelligent and well read. I know school and learning is not for everyone, but it is for me. When I used to do poorly in school my dad would yell at me and tell me I am not lucky enough to have the excuse of being stupid to explain my bad grades. He was right. I am not stupid. I am actually pretty smart. Just, as I mentioned earlier, lazy. Well, that is a habit I am trying to break. In the past I would slack on my homework to hang out with my friends. I was always afraid if I didn't see my friends as frequently as I could they would forget about me and find someone better to hang out with. I am now a bit older and understand that usually doesn't happen. And if it does, good riddance to those lousy friends. I know my real friends will understand that I am busy with school and when I finish my homework early or am on holiday break we can party it up. I am sure I will need it.
Another thing I need to do with my life is travel. I love hanging out around my house and around town. I can be a real homebody most of the time and be fine with that. Tom likes to garden and do yard work and I like to clean and keep a nice place. BUT, not all the time. Neither of us want a big house. We want a small, easy to care for, affordable house that does not run us dry because we need to travel. Maybe not every year, but I need to go back to Thailand to visit some friends sometime. Oh yeah, we have spent some months in South East Asia. That is a story for another time, though. The point is, it is awesome over there and I would move in a heart beat if I didn't love my family and friends so much. You guys really suck, you know?
I want to be able to give my kid(s) a good life, too. Now, one child sounds like enough to me, but I leave room open for a second one to be, hopefully, adopted. I am a woman and of course I have that silly maternal feeling that just bugs me to have a child of my own. And one of those would be plenty. If I decided that I wanted a second child, they would definitely have to be adopted. It is a real shame how many kids are born into this world and left with nothing before they even get started. I can't save the world, but helping out one kid by bringing them into our family would feel pretty good I think. And I don't want more than one or two children because I want to provide everything I can for them and I just don't feel like I could provide enough attention and/ or money to more than that. Like I said, I can be kind of lazy. And while I hope that I am not a lazy mother, I still need some down time. More than one or two kids and I can't imagine you get much of that. Even with just one kid I am sure you don't get much down time at all. I hear they are a pretty full time job.
In summary, a halfway decent career, a modest house, a chance to leave the country once in a while and 1-2 children. That is what I would like to aim for in life. I don't think that is too much, right? Well, step one: get into grad school. Check.
"Where your talents and the needs of the world cross lies your calling." ~ Aristotle
Let's hope so, bra.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Post Adolescent, Pre Geriatric
Real adult. What does that even mean? If you came here looking for the answer, then keep on blog browsing, because I don't have the answer. In fact, I don't even know if that is a valid question. Is there such a thing as a real adult? Are their certain incontrovertible characteristics that qualify you as having crossed that line into adulthood?
And why do I care? I always thought adulthood just kind of happened. I pretty much thought my life would just take shape to be the glamorous, yet humble, existence that I was always meant for. When I was 18, I would be whisked away by higher education to the ritzy and intellectual circles in New York, or the sunny, 1969-era San Francisco. That didn't happen. By 22 I figured I would be published, wooing the literary circles of the country with my highly witty and insightful, yet totally accessible, musings. Uh, yeah, still working on that one. By my ripe old age of 25 I... well, I guess I hadn't really planned that far ahead. I imagined I would have an awesome job of my choosing (though what that job may have been changed to frequently to record accurately) and I would most likely live in a small, but still swank apartment that I shared with my equally successful and interesting roommate or boyfriend. That was my life plan.
So life isn't exactly on track. However, I can't blame anyone but myself. I never applied to any schools in California and thinking I would get into NYU was a pipe dream. You have kiss high school's ass to get into a school like NYU (or be loaded or famous) and I didn't do anything beyond showing up for class. And I didn't do that all the time. It's three years past when I should have been published by and except for submitting a few things (unedited and last minute) to some writing contests in school, I haven't exactly tried very hard.
I'm 25 now. And the plan is still a little blurry, but it is definitely taking some definition. I do live with super awesome and totally interesting boyfriend. But we live in his dad's basement. Now, it's a nice basement, don't get me wrong. And we live here by choice. We both work and could easily have ourselves a small, if not swank, apartment. I think his dad likes us being here, though, and it's really hard to turn down an opportunity to save some money and try to figure out what the hell we are going to do now. I still live a little closer to Lansdale, my hometown, than I would like, and a little closer to the poverty line than I would like, and a little farther from a Pulitzer than I would like, but all in all life isn't bad.
Anyway, I am getting off topic. The original point was that having turned 25 has given me so much food for thought that I am nearly sick to my stomach worrying about what I should be doing at this point in my life. 25. That's a hell of a number, and I am not saying it's THAT old, but it's the oldest I've ever been. And it's a lot older than when I started to become the person that I am starting to be, which I would put at roughly 12 or 13. You know, those early adolescent years where you start to wonder about who you are and why you aren't good enough. I imagine that starts even younger for kids now, which is a shame. All I know right now is that if I am an adult then I gots to get working on getting some things in order.
I won't get too into whining about my quarter life crisis or making empty promises about all the things that I am doing to make my life everything that I know it has the potential to be. That wouldn't be very interesting for you to read and it wouldn't be all that interesting for me to write, since it gets pretty repetitive.
Instead, you can read my reflections on life and this thing called growing up. Or being a grown up? I never got around to trying to define this adult thing, but there is time. I tend to ramble, but I will try to keep my thoughts here more or less cohesive, and hopefully somewhat relatable to anyone that wants to join in the blogging fun. Do people actually read these?
In case people DO actually read this, I will leave you with a quote to think on. I can only hope that one day I say something worthy of adding quotations around it.
"Happiness is neither virtue nor pleasure nor this thing nor that but simply growth, We are happy when we are growing." ~ William Butler Yeats
And why do I care? I always thought adulthood just kind of happened. I pretty much thought my life would just take shape to be the glamorous, yet humble, existence that I was always meant for. When I was 18, I would be whisked away by higher education to the ritzy and intellectual circles in New York, or the sunny, 1969-era San Francisco. That didn't happen. By 22 I figured I would be published, wooing the literary circles of the country with my highly witty and insightful, yet totally accessible, musings. Uh, yeah, still working on that one. By my ripe old age of 25 I... well, I guess I hadn't really planned that far ahead. I imagined I would have an awesome job of my choosing (though what that job may have been changed to frequently to record accurately) and I would most likely live in a small, but still swank apartment that I shared with my equally successful and interesting roommate or boyfriend. That was my life plan.
So life isn't exactly on track. However, I can't blame anyone but myself. I never applied to any schools in California and thinking I would get into NYU was a pipe dream. You have kiss high school's ass to get into a school like NYU (or be loaded or famous) and I didn't do anything beyond showing up for class. And I didn't do that all the time. It's three years past when I should have been published by and except for submitting a few things (unedited and last minute) to some writing contests in school, I haven't exactly tried very hard.
I'm 25 now. And the plan is still a little blurry, but it is definitely taking some definition. I do live with super awesome and totally interesting boyfriend. But we live in his dad's basement. Now, it's a nice basement, don't get me wrong. And we live here by choice. We both work and could easily have ourselves a small, if not swank, apartment. I think his dad likes us being here, though, and it's really hard to turn down an opportunity to save some money and try to figure out what the hell we are going to do now. I still live a little closer to Lansdale, my hometown, than I would like, and a little closer to the poverty line than I would like, and a little farther from a Pulitzer than I would like, but all in all life isn't bad.
Anyway, I am getting off topic. The original point was that having turned 25 has given me so much food for thought that I am nearly sick to my stomach worrying about what I should be doing at this point in my life. 25. That's a hell of a number, and I am not saying it's THAT old, but it's the oldest I've ever been. And it's a lot older than when I started to become the person that I am starting to be, which I would put at roughly 12 or 13. You know, those early adolescent years where you start to wonder about who you are and why you aren't good enough. I imagine that starts even younger for kids now, which is a shame. All I know right now is that if I am an adult then I gots to get working on getting some things in order.
I won't get too into whining about my quarter life crisis or making empty promises about all the things that I am doing to make my life everything that I know it has the potential to be. That wouldn't be very interesting for you to read and it wouldn't be all that interesting for me to write, since it gets pretty repetitive.
Instead, you can read my reflections on life and this thing called growing up. Or being a grown up? I never got around to trying to define this adult thing, but there is time. I tend to ramble, but I will try to keep my thoughts here more or less cohesive, and hopefully somewhat relatable to anyone that wants to join in the blogging fun. Do people actually read these?
In case people DO actually read this, I will leave you with a quote to think on. I can only hope that one day I say something worthy of adding quotations around it.
"Happiness is neither virtue nor pleasure nor this thing nor that but simply growth, We are happy when we are growing." ~ William Butler Yeats
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