For those of you keeping track, the job hunt is not going well...so far. Keith pointed out some places to look, so maybe that will help. Here's a basic break down of the problems I've been having...
The jobs that I'd really like to do require a degree in English...mine's in psychology, and they don't seem to be equal...
The jobs that I'd be willing to do are either on the other side of town or they require a "professional" appearance. The problem with jobs on the other side of town is that I don't drive...never have, probably never will...and I'm not really willing to commute two to three hours by bus for a job. The professional appearance is the bigger problem...that usually means short hair for men. For those who have never actually seen what I look like, my hair is about half way down my back, and I have no plans on cutting it...but I will keep applying.
At this point, it looks like I'm going to get stuck with a job in food or retail...I'm hoping for retail...
Saturday, April 21, 2007
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5 comments:
I cut my hair in 1973, when I got married. I figured that I had to get a job and support the wife and all. It was not as long as yours, but it was long enough to tie in back. Of course, I had long hair back when it was an identity thing. I was a hippie, I smoked dope and took LSD and listened to Frank Zappa. By 1973 everyone had long hair, even the greasers and the nascent disco dudes. My prospective father-in-law made an appointment for me at Vidal Sassoon in the city. Half a dozen gay men argued over my head for an hour. Vidal stopped by and gave his opinion The haircut that I got in 1973 is the style I wear today. How can you argue with 6 gay hair cutters and Vidal Sassoon?
My brother kept his hair long until around 1980, when he decided that it was just too much work and one day cut it all off. He's a super-cuts dude now.
As my hairline continues its retreat, I'm sure I'll one day cut it...once it looks truly ridiculous, although right now, I could do one hell of a comb over if I needed to!
time to chop the hair dude! btw, i saw a job posting for a cycling shop a couple weeks ago...have you considered that route?
J.,
If the good jobs are on the other side of town, have you thought about moving? I don't drive either, and -- when I was on my own -- I had to have everything I needed regularly within walking distance, up to about 2 miles. I could cut down my travel time considerably on my bike, depending on the weather and other conditions.
Urban sprawl definitely puts pedestrians and bicyclists at a disadvantage, and car-driving taxpayers seem reluctant to fund more convenient public transportation -- after all, they wouldn't use it. Maybe this will change, as it becomes more expensive or difficult for individuals to own and operator motor vehicles.
That said, my favorite job was Parking Lot Attendant. When I wasn't busy reading or listening to Pink Floyd or watching Are You Being Served?, I was playing the part of highwayman -- I took drivers' money, before I'd let them go. Stick it to 'em.
Robert E. Porter
On you resume, replace psychology with Journalism. You are not getting a job with the state department. Schools, if someone checks, just say if you graduated. You obviously got enough English out of it to spell and form a sentence. Nobody wants to know your opinion on King Lear. If they do a background check, you won't get the job, so the outcome is the same as if you didn't stretch the truth.
Don't buy a car - buy a truck. I drive a truck and I can feel superior to the lowly car drivers. Trucks have all of this room in the back so when you pass something good on the side of the road, you can just throw it in. You can get a used truck in decent condition for a few hundred dollars, they are cheaper to maintain, cheaper insurance, You don't need a back seat unless you've got kids. They cost the same as a car to park. Get a truck dude, then you can head up to the mountains on Sunday morning and sip a six pack far from the madding crowd. Get one with a tape deck and I'll send you some blues or books on tape.
Alternative to truck is a motorcycle. If you drive a hog, nobody questions the pony tail. You may have to get a tattoo of a swastika, though. Some of my friends are bikers, and I am jealous. They are always off on trips. Motorcyclers tend to join clubs and get social - gets you out of the house without actually having to talk to anyone.
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