my greatest weakness

Not that I've been offered any interviews yet, but I've been thinking about them as I've been searching for a new job. And you know how there are always those questions they ask that you hate? Like...

"Tell me about yourself."

This, to me, is like the most intimidating question. What do they want to know? How much do they want to know? What are the important things about me? What if I think the important things about me are not the things THEY think are important to know? How much of this is supposed to be personal information, and how much is supposed to be professional experience and aspirations?

"Where do you see yourself in five years?"

Now, if you have a five-year plan, you probably love this question. But I don't even have a five-month plan. Who knows what I'll be doing, where I'll be, or who I'll be with in five years? And what does that say about me? I like to think it says I'm willing to go anywhere and be put to use in the best possible way, without any restrictions. But someone else could see that as saying that I'm not committed to anything or that I don't have any ambition because I don't have any long-term goals set. I don't WANT to have a five-year plan. But if I don't, is that a dealbreaker for employers?

"What's your greatest weakness?"

Why do they even ask this one? It always puts you in this position where you try to think of something that sounds self-depreciating even though it's actually something good, like "I'm too nice" or "I get too invested in my work." Or in the words of Jenna from 30 Rock, a "back-door brag." And you know the interviewer has heard these answers about a zillion times and can see right through what you're doing. But isn't that what they're trying to get you to do? Because if you answered with something like, "Well, I am really sensitive to criticism. You're going to see me cry at least once if you hire me," or "I don't deal with distractions very well; you're going to have to lock my door and unplug my phone if you want me to get anything done," or "I don't do well with last-minute changes; I need an outlined plan at least a day in advance or I won't be able to function," would they hire us? What are they really looking for when they ask us this question -- our honest answer, or just the way we answer?

I'd love to hear anyone's thoughts/experiences/advice/funny stories about job interviews. Lord knows we've all been through them, so anything you have to share would be great! :)

Autumn in La La Land

As long as I've lived in the Lafayette area, the arrival of fall -- and more specifically, October -- has excited me.

First of all, it's football season -- REAL football season, when the other Big Ten teams come to town. And even if we're losing (as we are this year), there's nothing like spending a Saturday at Ross Ade cheering on the Boilers. If you win, you want to hug everyone around you. And if you lose, well...there's plenty of beer back at the tailgate.

Secondly, this is the point of the year in Indiana when the weather actually starts to change. No more of this dilly-dallying between summer and autumn. No more wondering whether to wear shorts or jeans. Get out the scarves and hats and sweaters! The leaves are changing, falling, and crunching. The windows are open during the day. It's perfect sleeping weather. It's freaking fall.

And thirdly (and probably most importantly), it's Christmas show season.

Now, I've been out of college for like...over two years. So this doesn't even apply directly to my life anymore. But for four years, October meant the beginning of rehearsals for the spectacular Purdue Christmas Show. First was the unveiling meeting where we got to see for the first time what the set would look like and what songs were in the show. Right after that, rehearsals would start. And even though it meant no more free time between regular PMO rehearsals and classes and homework, it was the thing I loved best, and I soaked it up. I walked to class with the rehearsal music in my mp3 player, memorizing the arrangements to "O Holy Night" and "Sleigh Ride" as I passed the spookily decorated Greek houses and Halloween event sheet signs.

And even now, when October rolls around, I get that same urge to crunch across the leaf-strewn sidewalks, smelling Starbucks pumpkin lattes, and letting my headphones pump the sounds of Christmas into my brain.

Is that crazy? Yes. Is it cheesy? Yes. But also magical. And while I'm not the kind of person who starts putting up the tree before Thanksgiving or anything like that, I do enjoy my slightly brainwashed reaction to the change of seasons and the subsequent need for me to listen to a yuletide tune or two.

WANTED: Fake Boyfriend

While I for the most part enjoy not having to deal with relationships, the biggest drawback of my currently single lifestyle is that it's very difficult to get out of my apartment and do things without feeling like a total loner. I mean, don't get me wrong...I'll go do something by myself. But it's usually more fun to have someone to go with. The problem with being a 20-something is that it seems to be harder at this point in life to be spontaneous and just say, "Hey, want to go to a movie tonight?" or "Hey, want to go downtown for this art and spaghetti festival?" or, "Hey, want to try that new Irish-Mexican place where Applebees used to be?"

It's like, people either already have plans, or they have to go to bed early, or they live in a different state, or they're married. And nothing against married people or folks with early bedtimes...it's just that I don't often plan social engagements far in advance and I just wish I had a guaranteed go-to guy for these and similar situations.

Well anyway, I've been looking for my next job recently, so I decided to put my wish for a fake boyfriend in the language I've been reading most lately:

WANTED: Fake Boyfriend
JOB TYPE: Temporary (6 to 9 months), Part-time/Internship

JOB DESCRIPTION: Going to movies and trying new restaurants with me; accompanying me to weddings, parties, and live performance events; coming with me to any sort of get-together that includes other couples so I don’t have to be the third/fifth/or other such odd-numbered wheel; occasionally staying in to watch DVDs with me; occasionally joining me and my dog for walks.

JOB REQUIREMENTS:
*Bachelor’s degree or similar life experience.
*Must be employed, so when people ask me what you do I don’t have to tell them you’re “exploring your options.”
*Must be willing to work flexible hours, especially weekends.
*Must be willing to attend local theatre, music, and art events as well as dine at local restaurants.
*Ideal candidate has a working knowledge of such TV shows as 30 Rock and The Office.
*Ideal candidate also has a working knowledge of Arrested Development and Dorm Life, as well as films such as Best in Show and Waiting for Guffman.
*Proficiency in giving shoulder massages a plus.
*Good listening skills and good hair a must.
*Ideal candidate possesses the ability to make me laugh.

Looking for a candidate who is positive, self-sufficient, and is not looking for an actual romantic connection or any kind of long-term arrangement. Lengthy and/or frequent phone conversation is discouraged, as is gift-giving, jealousy, and picking fights. This is an unpaid internship, but counts toward your credit as good boyfriend material in future relationships and will provide you with several opportunities to gain experience as a gentleman. To apply, please send resume, cover letter, head-shot, and one letter of recommendation to lisa.stanforth@gmail.com.

Whiners and d-bags need not apply!
Lis :)

and...off you go!

So I met -- scratch that, BEAT! -- a deadline I set for myself. My goal was to have an updated resume ready by October 1 to send out into the world in search of a Cool New Job. Well, yesterday I finished my revamped lil resume and uploaded it to a few different company sites in hopes of getting hired.

It just makes me feel so nervous.

It's weird that I can write blogs, talk to webcams, and tweet my most random thoughts for anyone to see, but when it comes to sending out a resume I feel very self-conscious and exposed.

I'm worried about things like, am I coming off as too braggy? Or am I not selling myself enough? Is someone going to look at my resume and laugh at me and then delete it? Or even worse, grumble, "stop wasting my time, idiot" as they move on to the next one? Here's the thing: I will never hear any of that negative feedback, but I still feel very self-conscious about the possibility of it happening! Is that crazy?

And the other thing is, I always sort of feel like sending out a resume is like tossing a message in a bottle out into the open sea. Is anyone even going to see it?! Or will it just float around until a killer whale mistakes it for a baby seal and eats it?

I don't really know where the killer whale fits into this analogy. I'm just sayin'.

Anyway, if you know anyone who's interested in hiring a well-spoken, well-organized, positive-thinking (except when it comes to resumes) multitasker with a penchant for problem-solving, let me know.

And if they laugh at my resume, don't tell me.

Smooth move, Ex Lax!

That's what my mom's friend Ron would say.
~Kenneth the Page, 30 Rock


Well, after six months I finally did it.

I took Lola outside...and forgot to bring my keys. Hence, locked out. Of the building.

Nice.

What was even nicer is that since we've been having really nice, warm weather, I've been lazy about putting shoes on before taking Lola outside. So I was barefoot. And in my PJs.

Yup.

So of course I realized just as the door was latching shut that I had locked myself out, and then I also realized it was like 1:00 in the afternoon, meaning pretty much everyone else in my building was at work. So no one was really coming in and out of the building at this time.

We had gone out the back door, so we walked (barefoot, mind you) around the building, through the grass toward the front door. And I just have to say, walking through the grass barefoot is kind of like walking through a minefield, only instead of mines there are little -- and big -- piles of poo that you have to constantly scan the ground for so you don't step on one.

This story would probably be better if I told you I DID step on a doggy-poo landmine, but that would be a lie. If you'd like to pretend I did for the sake of entertainment, that's fine with me.

So we got to the front door, and I just stood there...like a goober.

What next? Uhhhh...

We have a dial system that allows residents to ring people in through the front door, and for a moment I thought about just pushing random numbers until someone let me in. But considering I don't really know anyone in my building, I thought that might end up being super awkward.

Then I thought, well maybe I should push the button for the main office, and then I got those memories about living in dorms and how the RAs would tell you at the beginning of the year to always carry your keys with you because if you got locked out you were gonna get charged for it. So I hesitated because I didn't want to get...like...fined for getting locked out. Do they even do that at my building?

Luckily I didn't have to risk it because just then a guy came and unlocked the door on his way inside, letting Lola and me back into the building.

And then I stepped in dog poo.

KIDDING! Nothing gross happened.

The end.

thumper

One of my favorite lines from the Disney classic Bambi is a mantra Thumper recites in a way so adorable I'll never forget it:



"If ya can't say somethin' nice...don't say nothin' at all."

Well, Thumper, I have a new one:

"If you can't say something nice, don't make something up."

Right? I feel like sometimes nice people get into a nasty habit of coming up with something nice to say even (and especially) when they don't mean it. I don't mean saying "good job" to someone who just sang the national anthem about a step and a half off-key. I mean saying to that person, "Wow, you were really great! You have such a wonderful voice!"

Because it's one thing to be polite, but it's something else completely to just be needlessly dishonest.

Remember in Mean Girls when Rachel McAdams told that one girl that she loved her skirt, but then turned around and told Lindsay Lohan that was "the ugliest effing skirt I've ever seen?" So why did she make a point to compliment the skirt in the first place?

I realize not everyone is trying to be a Regina George, but what ARE we trying to accomplish when we say stuff like that? I've always wondered if it was some sort of knee-jerk reaction to thinking something mean or negative. Do people think an unkind thought, and then immediately spit out a compliment to morally redeem themselves? Or do they open their mouth, realize they're about to say something rude, and instead make a last-minute turn in the opposite direction?

Maybe no one else gets why I'm so riled up about this...It just bugs me that sometimes people seem to go out of their way to say something nice when they really don't mean it. And then it makes me wonder if anything nice they've ever said to me is even true. I would rather they not try to make me feel good than falsely flatter me.

Of course, if you just have to spit out whatever uncharitable thought you were thinking and you have a faithful friend who won't tell anybody about it, there's always Clairee's variation of the "if you can't say something nice' mantra:


"If you can't say something nice about anybody, come sit by me!"

That one works too. ;)

if i could write songs...

...I'd write one about today.

But unfortunately, I don't possess that gift. So I'm just going to describe it to you.

Lola and I went for a walk downtown. It was perfect: sunny, comfortably cool, warm but not enough to break a sweat. Jeans and t-shirt (and scarf!) and sunglasses weather.

We took a lap around the courthouse square and passed the Java Roaster where there are ALWAYS people sitting around outside, which is one of the reasons I love the place so much. Today it was a friendly older man who gave Lola a good ear-scratch, a very school-of-ag looking student studying a text book, and a couple of biker dudes.

Lola and I turned the corner and headed toward the pedestrian bridge, passing Red Seven where people were enjoying the most scrumptious cuisine I have ever smelled. We decided to work up an appetite and started across the bridge.

As we climbed the depot stairs, a train passed underneath us, which is always fun for some reason. Lola looked so cute climbing up and down the stairways that got us to the pedestrian bridge. Something about those wrinkly little legs hopping steps and those perky little ears flopping and that pink tongue sticking out sideways just gets me!

We said hello to another older gentleman who was resting next to his walking cane on a bench in the middle of the bridge, and we met a dad with a beautiful baby girl in a stroller.

Then we walked past what looked like a yoga class in session on the west side of the bridge. It was the most ragtag group I'd ever seen, but they seemed to be enjoying learning their poses. Next to them sat two scruffy guys who were drinking who knows what out of a paper bagged bottle. One of them asked me if I was single and I laughed as we walked away (quickly).

It was shady and cool at the other end of the bridge, so I gave Lola some water and sat on a bench to read a few chapters of a Jane Austen book. Then it was time to go back.

We ran into three teenage kids who liked Lola. One of them asked me if I wanted to hear a song and I said yes. He pulled out a guitar and sang and played "No Rain" by Blind Melon and it was pretty good! He attracted a little crowd there on the bridge as he played.

After the song, we moved on, pausing to say hi to a family with two adorable little kids. They had cameras with them; obviously a perfect day and setting for some pictures.

We crossed the bridge and passed Red Seven again on the way back to the car. People looked so classy sitting on the patio under the square umbrellas, all dressed up for a special night out. The servers sailed around the tables removing and replacing big, square, steaming dishes that smelled irresistible.

We walked past the Lafayette Theater where a skinny guy in the ticket booth was eating a plate of noodles. I smiled at him and he smiled back. Then we went across the street and found the car. Lola climbed into my lap, which I usually don't allow when I'm driving. But this time I rolled my window down and let her hang her tongue out the window as we climbed 4th Street to the apartment buildings.

Now Lola is asleep, snoring her adorable pug snore on her little blue bed. I've got the living room window open. I can hear voices and dinner plates clinking through other open windows in the building. The crickets and every other insect in nature with a sound to make are creating little symphonies out in the woods. I love that sound.

Now it's dinner time and I know that as soon as I cross over the baby gate into the kitchen, Lola will wake up and start jumping around in anticipation of food. Then the sound of the skillet and the kitchen faucet will drown out the summer sounds coming through the window. Before I know it, it will be time for work.

So I'm going to hang on to this peaceful moment just a little bit longer.