(From a recent Facebook post titled: Mister Blister is about to redeem a coupon for the new AT&T 3G MicroCell, since a year later they realized there are indeed reception problems with the iPhone. Hmmm, maybe now I can send text messages within the first four tries. $149 value, FREE for loyal customers. Awwww, ain't customer service neat?)
So what do you think happened when I got to the AT&T store and presented my in-store coupon for a spiffy new MicroTower?
"uhhhh, waz dat? ummm, we dont got none in stock, butchu can cawl cuztimur support and dey can sen' you one"
Me: can I call from here in the store?
AT&T: ok, here's duh fon
Me: hello, customer support? I recently received an offer for...
Cuztimur Support: No, that's not correct. We are unable to send one out, however I can try to call another location to see if they have one available
Me: (22 minutes later) yes, thank you for calling 7 locations in NYC and trying to find an in-stock unit. Yes, it is odd that several locations didn't answer, but no it doesn't seem that busy, there are only 2-3 customers at this location. Could you call the store I'm at to see if they can reclassify one of their in-stock units to use for the free MicroCell promotion?
Me: (9 minutes later) alright, thank you for trying
AT&T In-store Rep: I don't know of any other locations that have it in stock, but I can check the computer to look at inventories at other stores
Me:
AT&T: (6 minutes later) I just have to find a computer I can check (because the 5 of the 8 terminals that weren't being used was jus stoopid computahs, dat wuzznt on)
AT&T Rep #3: I checked about 8 or 9 locations in the city, and no one has them in stock. I'm very sorry.
Me: Can you put me on a waiting list to pick one up when they are in stock?
AT&T Rep #4: Oh, we can just do an in-store fulfillment and have one mailed directly to you. What's your account number?
AT&T Rep #4: (2 minutes later) OK, that should delivered to your house in 7 to 10 business days. Sorry for the delay and confusion.
Lesson Learnt -
MicroCell Tower: $149
Time Spent Trying to Get said Tower: 54 minutes @ $215/hour ~ $202.41
Not Having Your Time Wasted By Inept Service Providers: Priceless
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Success! As the Clouds Have Parted, part 2
Success! As the Clouds Have Parted, part 1
Friday, July 9, 2010
Is it wrong...
Dating and the Job Search
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Phrase of the Week
What I Accomplished Today
Sunday, June 27, 2010
How Apple's iOS4.0 Stole My Messages
I started out as a Mac user. That was back in 1986, after the fateful days of the TRS-80 and PacMan fever. But over time, I slowly realized a lot of the software I needed just wasn't Mac-compatible. As I got into Excel (a previously mentioned torrid love-affair that continues to this day), it became an even clearer choice that I'd need to convert to Mr. Bill's world of PCs (ohh noooooo). The wedge between me and Apple was driven-in even further when I discovered Palm products in business school. The Palm was neat, efficient, powerful and reliable. Mind you, I didn't have anything against Apple products, it's just that some people study French in high school, some study German (or in Mister Blister's case - Russian). Some people drive Mercedes and some drive BMWs (or a Boeing 727). To each her own, I say. I loved my Palm, and my Palm loved me.
So it was a real big deal when I actually installed and started using iTunes "way" back in 2007. You see, there was a short period that year when your hero Mister Blister worked at a branding agency, which was 90% Mac-based. They also had this really cool way of sharing iTunes libraries across the network so you could hear other people's playlists. Now that's some fierce tech. And in those days, the iPhone was still just a candy bar in daddy's back pocket (Laurie Anderson fans will recognize the reference). I was still using a Palm Treo, and very happy with it. I actually preferred the heavy, clunky size and could type 85 words a minute using just my thumbs on the physical keyboard. The stylus-based interface meant I could see an entire DAY's worth of appointments on my calendar while having a multi-directional button that could hop around the screen with precision. Information on contacts was robust and highly customizable. And yup, it even played music. (Ironically, I got the Trēo as a replacement for a Sony Cliē, the last Sony product that ever worked right for me - and was my surrogate iPod at the gym for almost 5 years.)
It's fair to say that the iPhone clearly owes much of its inspiration to the Treo. And yes, with the earliest Treos, you could even cut-and-paste with but a touch and a click. Try *that* iPhone 1.0. So it was a very long and winding process that led to eventually switching to the iPhone.
Sadly, the Treo's demise actually came at Palm's own hands. I started pining for the newest, shiniest and best-ever Palm product over 15 months before the Prē was to be released. (I was shivering with an...tici... pation - that every Sweet Transvestite knows). I woke up at 5:30am on a Saturday morning early last June to wait in line. When I arrived, there were already 12 people lined up around the block ahead of me at the local Sprint store. Whoo hoo! That was the day - I was gettin' this baby. I should have known my place as number 13 would be anything but lucky. A harbinger of what was yet to come.
I'd heard so much about the iPhone but was skeptical about it not having a physical keyboard (fears that ended up being well-founded). But what a train wreck the Pre was. Let's start with the name Prē. What the frack is that? Like, "before" what? But the worst disappointment was that they jettisoned almost everything that made the Treo cool. Gone was the stylus with pinpoint screen accuracy. Gone was a highly customizable calendar. Gone was a phone that fit my hand well and felt sturdy. Gone was a phone with good reception I could actually make phone calls on. And the slide-out "extendable" keyboard? You couldn't do a damn thing on the phone except answer a call if it *wasn't* extended. On the 28th day of my Prē ownership, I took that phone right back to Sprint and marched up to the Apple store across the street from work (at about 2am when there was no one there). And I took the plunge. I became an iPhone convert. oh! how my life would change.
I probably should thank Palm for sacrificing their brand and business by putting out the Pre, which was little more than a cheap chick-phone knock-off of the iPhone, designed to fit better in a businesswoman's purse (I kid you not; know your market). Gone was the sleek Palm OS. Gone was... etc, etc. BUT, it meant that once I got it, the deficiencies of the iPhone were mild *in comparison* to the long-awaited debacle that was the Prü. Or Prå. Or, what was it called again?
So within maybe two days I was completely comfortable with the iPhone's sleek, intuitive interface. I was a convert. I even started buying music directly through the iStore. (This from someone with over 800 CDs who covets the format like old-school DJs covet vinyl.) And timing it just right to get the fancy iPhone 3GS, I was now suddenly able to have a satellite track where I was jogging via GPS (or some kind of cell-tower triangulation di-variant algorithm thingie). All these new and marvelous wonders. Life truly was better under the iPhone, and that's no hyperbole. (For our younger faithful readers, that's pronounced "hi, Purr bow lee", not a word meaning 'bigger-than-the-Superbowl'. Wait, who just said 'Megabowl'? Smarty pants.) Well, better except for the crappy $2 headphones that come with the thing. But carrying around that slim black and silver brick was sexxxxxxy.
Now fast-forward 11 months. My last boyfriend (and fellow iPhone adopter) has dumped me by text message. My relationship with my employer is annulled like a bad marriage. My new apartment has cracks in the wall bigger than Doctor Who's universe. But the iPhone 4 is coming out. It's going to be better than world peace or even a YouTube video of Miss South Carolina answering questions at a beauty pageant. It's the Supermega-iPhone to kill all previous iPhones. Folders for Apps! Character counts on text messages! Spell-check. (sorta) Integrated Inbox for email! Background multi-tasking! Sign. Me. Up.
But wait, what's this? I don't need to actually purchase a new handset, other than to get video chat (60 years after the Jetsons, finally)? Huzzah!! Let me just download the new software. Ok. Just, now, click... that button. Press sync. Ummm, let's see. Ok. Restart, and... Oh. My. God. It's here! I now have something better than my Treo 680! (Cue chorus of humming angels from above.) I have an iPhone 3GS/iOS4.0.
Let me just check my email, and...
Awww CRIPES!!!!!! Now my Yahoo! Mail is deleted, and wont reload. CRAP! When I type, the keyboard is off even worse than before. 'Jullrt' isn't a word! And great, now I'm getting alerts every time someone 'Limes' a comment on Facebook (ed: 'Likes'), but I can't get the damn app to load and show me the comments. Where's my friggging email?!?
Is it a bug? Is the system just so overloaded from the 1.2 million new devices that the network is crashing? Hkw come (ed: 'How') I can still get mail from my Earthlink account - which of course is the account I get my Spam at. But HOLD ON, what about all those emails from potential employers or people agreeing to set-up informational meetings I need to get back to? Heeeeeeellllp (sound of soft whimpering in the background). How will I ever find a job without my iPhone's email??
I guess maybe I need to rely less on emails and technology and start reachingboit (ed: 'reaching out') to people by phone. But OH YEAH, the damn "phone" does everything EXCEPT MAKE PHONE CALLS. Technology sucks.
Why does it so often seem that technology has to take two steps backwards to take one step forward? Cf. with MS Office and its idiotically designed ribbon-system and elimination of drop-down menus. Rat bastards.
Cf. also Time-Warner Cable's switch from the Passport DVR operating system to the evil and incompetent Mystrō system. (Here's a clue your software's going down the toilet - those stupid, meaningless bars over a vowel in the name that's supposed to look cute but has no linguistic value.)
And my replacement laptop arrives in two days. Any guesses what Monday's post's topic will be? Someone please come remove all sharp and blunt objects before I commit technolicide on one of these poor, helpless hunks of infuriating metal.
Will I get my email back? Will iOS4.0 correct itself? Will my DVR start deleting shows I haven't watched? Will tech support in Bangalore ever be able to reset my malfunctioning wi-fi router? For the answer to these and many other uninteresting questions,
Stay tuned oh faithful reader...
(Written by iPhone. Typos WILL occur.)
So it was a real big deal when I actually installed and started using iTunes "way" back in 2007. You see, there was a short period that year when your hero Mister Blister worked at a branding agency, which was 90% Mac-based. They also had this really cool way of sharing iTunes libraries across the network so you could hear other people's playlists. Now that's some fierce tech. And in those days, the iPhone was still just a candy bar in daddy's back pocket (Laurie Anderson fans will recognize the reference). I was still using a Palm Treo, and very happy with it. I actually preferred the heavy, clunky size and could type 85 words a minute using just my thumbs on the physical keyboard. The stylus-based interface meant I could see an entire DAY's worth of appointments on my calendar while having a multi-directional button that could hop around the screen with precision. Information on contacts was robust and highly customizable. And yup, it even played music. (Ironically, I got the Trēo as a replacement for a Sony Cliē, the last Sony product that ever worked right for me - and was my surrogate iPod at the gym for almost 5 years.)
It's fair to say that the iPhone clearly owes much of its inspiration to the Treo. And yes, with the earliest Treos, you could even cut-and-paste with but a touch and a click. Try *that* iPhone 1.0. So it was a very long and winding process that led to eventually switching to the iPhone.
Sadly, the Treo's demise actually came at Palm's own hands. I started pining for the newest, shiniest and best-ever Palm product over 15 months before the Prē was to be released. (I was shivering with an...tici... pation - that every Sweet Transvestite knows). I woke up at 5:30am on a Saturday morning early last June to wait in line. When I arrived, there were already 12 people lined up around the block ahead of me at the local Sprint store. Whoo hoo! That was the day - I was gettin' this baby. I should have known my place as number 13 would be anything but lucky. A harbinger of what was yet to come.
I'd heard so much about the iPhone but was skeptical about it not having a physical keyboard (fears that ended up being well-founded). But what a train wreck the Pre was. Let's start with the name Prē. What the frack is that? Like, "before" what? But the worst disappointment was that they jettisoned almost everything that made the Treo cool. Gone was the stylus with pinpoint screen accuracy. Gone was a highly customizable calendar. Gone was a phone that fit my hand well and felt sturdy. Gone was a phone with good reception I could actually make phone calls on. And the slide-out "extendable" keyboard? You couldn't do a damn thing on the phone except answer a call if it *wasn't* extended. On the 28th day of my Prē ownership, I took that phone right back to Sprint and marched up to the Apple store across the street from work (at about 2am when there was no one there). And I took the plunge. I became an iPhone convert. oh! how my life would change.
I probably should thank Palm for sacrificing their brand and business by putting out the Pre, which was little more than a cheap chick-phone knock-off of the iPhone, designed to fit better in a businesswoman's purse (I kid you not; know your market). Gone was the sleek Palm OS. Gone was... etc, etc. BUT, it meant that once I got it, the deficiencies of the iPhone were mild *in comparison* to the long-awaited debacle that was the Prü. Or Prå. Or, what was it called again?
So within maybe two days I was completely comfortable with the iPhone's sleek, intuitive interface. I was a convert. I even started buying music directly through the iStore. (This from someone with over 800 CDs who covets the format like old-school DJs covet vinyl.) And timing it just right to get the fancy iPhone 3GS, I was now suddenly able to have a satellite track where I was jogging via GPS (or some kind of cell-tower triangulation di-variant algorithm thingie). All these new and marvelous wonders. Life truly was better under the iPhone, and that's no hyperbole. (For our younger faithful readers, that's pronounced "hi, Purr bow lee", not a word meaning 'bigger-than-the-Superbowl'. Wait, who just said 'Megabowl'? Smarty pants.) Well, better except for the crappy $2 headphones that come with the thing. But carrying around that slim black and silver brick was sexxxxxxy.
Now fast-forward 11 months. My last boyfriend (and fellow iPhone adopter) has dumped me by text message. My relationship with my employer is annulled like a bad marriage. My new apartment has cracks in the wall bigger than Doctor Who's universe. But the iPhone 4 is coming out. It's going to be better than world peace or even a YouTube video of Miss South Carolina answering questions at a beauty pageant. It's the Supermega-iPhone to kill all previous iPhones. Folders for Apps! Character counts on text messages! Spell-check. (sorta) Integrated Inbox for email! Background multi-tasking! Sign. Me. Up.
But wait, what's this? I don't need to actually purchase a new handset, other than to get video chat (60 years after the Jetsons, finally)? Huzzah!! Let me just download the new software. Ok. Just, now, click... that button. Press sync. Ummm, let's see. Ok. Restart, and... Oh. My. God. It's here! I now have something better than my Treo 680! (Cue chorus of humming angels from above.) I have an iPhone 3GS/iOS4.0.
Let me just check my email, and...
Awww CRIPES!!!!!! Now my Yahoo! Mail is deleted, and wont reload. CRAP! When I type, the keyboard is off even worse than before. 'Jullrt' isn't a word! And great, now I'm getting alerts every time someone 'Limes' a comment on Facebook (ed: 'Likes'), but I can't get the damn app to load and show me the comments. Where's my friggging email?!?
Is it a bug? Is the system just so overloaded from the 1.2 million new devices that the network is crashing? Hkw come (ed: 'How') I can still get mail from my Earthlink account - which of course is the account I get my Spam at. But HOLD ON, what about all those emails from potential employers or people agreeing to set-up informational meetings I need to get back to? Heeeeeeellllp (sound of soft whimpering in the background). How will I ever find a job without my iPhone's email??
I guess maybe I need to rely less on emails and technology and start reachingboit (ed: 'reaching out') to people by phone. But OH YEAH, the damn "phone" does everything EXCEPT MAKE PHONE CALLS. Technology sucks.
Why does it so often seem that technology has to take two steps backwards to take one step forward? Cf. with MS Office and its idiotically designed ribbon-system and elimination of drop-down menus. Rat bastards.
Cf. also Time-Warner Cable's switch from the Passport DVR operating system to the evil and incompetent Mystrō system. (Here's a clue your software's going down the toilet - those stupid, meaningless bars over a vowel in the name that's supposed to look cute but has no linguistic value.)
And my replacement laptop arrives in two days. Any guesses what Monday's post's topic will be? Someone please come remove all sharp and blunt objects before I commit technolicide on one of these poor, helpless hunks of infuriating metal.
Will I get my email back? Will iOS4.0 correct itself? Will my DVR start deleting shows I haven't watched? Will tech support in Bangalore ever be able to reset my malfunctioning wi-fi router? For the answer to these and many other uninteresting questions,
Stay tuned oh faithful reader...
(Written by iPhone. Typos WILL occur.)
Friday, June 25, 2010
Why Does Buying a New Computer Suck Buckshot?
(Note: this blog contains lots of I/T geektail [geeky detail] that may put our most faithful readers to sleep - please follow directions from the last post and get $115 to buy yourself a Mountain Dew before reading further.)
Rather unfortunately, my Sony VAIO computer is mentally ill. It's also two shakes away from being an self-amputee as various pieces of plastic-disguised-as-high-quality-carbon-composites fall off. Since they don't have an insane asylum for laptops, that means it's time to buy a replacement. There seems to be a common thread in my life with alternating positive and negative experiences with Sony, but I think I'm finally ready to cut the cord and end it once and for all (my idiotic pattern of buying a VAIO, having it break twice as fast at four times the price of the leading brand, getting frustrated, SWEARING I'll never get another Sony, then getting seduced by the newest model's sexy exterior, glistening screen, powerful underchassis, and Hamptons-esque price tag).
But what does this have to do with unemployment, and how does it enter this Unguide - the place for all the things not to do when trying to find a job? Well, in today's digital age, it's would be damn near, if not literally, impossible to get a job without a solid, efficient and reliable computer for:
- revising resumes
- sending emails
- Internet Exploring job openings
- getting invitations to networking events
- applying through those appalling online career sites
- printing out resumes
- looking at LinkedIn, RSS Feeds, Twittering about Tweets, Tweeting about Twits, Facebooking, friending, forwarding, flipping, flopping, flapping, and Digg-ing
(In case you're wondering, that last one is just a feeble attempt to increase my search hits by using popular keywords while demonstrating digital marketing savvy.)
So back to why buying a new computer suxx. First of all, most of the commercial sites don't have a lot of detailed information, or a weird way of comparing, or a list of specs that are not close to what matters, like does the slate gunmetal gray look better than the lava black. Take the processor for instance - will I really notice the difference between an Intel i5 at 2.66GHz and "turbo boost" to 3.06GHz versus the Intel i7 at 2.81GHz and boost to 3.17GHz. Probably not. And if I did, I should be making a lot more money in this market with skills and knowledge like that!
In the end it came down to this: I looked at some computers in real-life at Best Buy and realized what was wrong with my current computer - aside from the right-click button not working, the screen's left hinge being broken, the Windows 7 upgrade freezing every time I have more than 5 browser windows open and having a headphone jack that only works in one ear. When looking at emails, spreadsheets and documents, the newfangled 16:9 "high def aspect ratio" leaves me with too little vertical space and useless horizontal borders. One easy way to fix that: find a laptop with a screen that rotates from landscape to portrait (with actual computing accumen unlike the iTampon, or whatever it's called). Or, ummm: get a bigger computer. Ooooh, how in love I was with my brain-dead VAIO's compact design and light-as-a-feather weight. I nearly got a Netbook if I could have found one with a DVD player, but that apparently defies what the definition of a Netbook is.
And once I decided just maybe bigger is better (in terms of computer screen size), I noticed some of these computers have keyboards which come with a number pad on the side. Whoa, now that's HOT! I never thought much of them until I had one on my desktop at work, and rarely ever use the fake number pad inconveniently placed on the right side of the u, j and m keys. And the other thing I've been waiting 6 years for is a back-lit keyboard. Ooooh, how I just love to write emails (and drafts of cheesy romance novels) at 2am with nothing but the flicker of late-nite TV programming to light the room. I even bought a USB clip-on light to help a few years ago, but that's about as useful as a plug-in heat lamp in the Sahara (Sex and the City 2 reference, in case you missed it, oh faithful one).
During a jaunt to the local BestBuy to return my wireless router which Belkin customer support fried while on the phone once, I decided to saunter down to the laptop section and browse the goods. After some extensive conversations with the only sales rep on the floor, I managed narrow it down to the Toshiba or the... no. Say it isn't so. I won't do it. But. It's pretty. And not as expensive as the last one. Dangit! The only other model that seemed to give me the features and style I was looking for was a Sony F12U3C456K model. Sigh. So having had my computer freeze up 4 times in the last week, losing two blog post drafts and the screen snap out of place twice in 8 hours, I knew I had to act quickly. I mean, if I had been actually going to IvyExec or the Ladders that day, and found a job I wanted to apply to, it wouldn't do me any good if I couldn't craft an eloquent response to a potential employer because my VAIO was in 35 pieces on floor, would it? (Note: the initial damage would be a computer in three pieces when the screen snaps off - the remaining 32 come from violently throwing what's left of the computer against the concrete 10' ceiling, and whacking the cascading silicon remains with a graphite tennis racket.) Besides, it was a Thursday, and I had all day Friday to hunt the concrete jungle for that career to end all careers, right?
And that kicked off a rather exhaustive 9 hour comparison one I got home of Toshiba Satellite T40s, L650s, M480s, A660s, qrst9000s and whatever other models they have all of which differed by 3 components, with no explanation of why the L650 with the i5 processor and 4GB of RAM was more expensive than the R2D2-670 with an i7 processor and 6GB of RAM. Then a miracle happened. I begrudgingly surfed (more like doggie paddled) on over to the sonystyle website and got one of those cutesy little pop-up floating menu screens saying "would you like to chat with a live representative?" just like when you make reservations at aa.com (it's pretty cool actually - an airline representative will call YOU?; brilliant marketing). So I chatted and asked which model met my needs best. Of course their answer was the Z-series which started at $1999 and didn't have the number pad, as opposed to the EB-series which started at $699 and did. But I was amazed that as I asked a few questions and browsed the various offerings and specs, the customer service person actually was able to answer all of my questions. All of them. Every one. Even when I asked what the difference in size between the track pads was across three of the product lines. She even told me when I joked that I wished I could trade-in my old VAIOs like when you buy a new car, that any Sony store would accept them and give me some in-store credit value or something. That of course predicates wanting to ever buy another piece of Sony electronics. And would probably give me even less value than my ill-fated "bonus" (about half a paycheck) that Sony so graciously sent me after leaving the company and saving over $3 million in marketing expenditures so the fat cats could make the next installment on their 45' yachts. But I digress. (Like you didn't see that coming.)
In the end, I had customized and configured a beautiful Sony VAIO EB36-21-hut-hut and a solid Toshiba Satellite A660-TSe1i0t, for $1700 and $1400 respectively (both, of course, with Office 2010 Professional pre-loaded, because I DON'T STEAL software. Or music. I'm old-school like that.) And 10 seconds before hitting the Check-out button on the Sony (god save me), I noticed a pre-configured Toshiba with the i5 processor, 4MB of RAM, 500GB hard drive, number pad (for all that Excel I do), backlit keyboard, double-finger entry trackpad like on the iPhone, and Music-while-the-computer-Sleeps with Harmon-Kardon speakers for only $699. Whoa, that's a good price. And wouldn't you know that just as I was about to checkout and click Pay Now, I decided to quickly check some online reviews. Most reviewers had reviled the new VAIO models, and the Toshiba was too new to have comments or analysis. I finally found one site that had a post, and just as it opened - wouldn't you know - my entire system hemmoraged white light. The pointer disappeared, all the open windows went blank, and the desktop started sputtering. It took me 15 minutes of trying different keyboard shortcuts and trying to grab at different programs to close them out. I finally snatched one of the gadgets and closed it freeing a few kb of memory. That allowed me to find another one and close it freeing up a few more kb and so on until I was able to close Outlook and Excel. Yup. It's time for a new computer. After closing almost all the open applications, I finally got back to the order screen, and clicked OK. And then got one of those pesky "Please Log In to your Account" screens. LUCKILY, the cart still had everything saved and ready to go. Whew! Technology pleases. And technology pains.
But the day was not a complete loss from a career development perspective. One of my favorite entertainment conglomerates had a Pride Mixer in Murray Hill. I put on a nice shirt and suit, slinked to the subway and was fortunate to get an air conditioned subway before too long. But the walk from the subway to the bar was a little less forgiving. It was only 6 blocks, but at 92F in the shade, it didn't take long before I was panting like a chocolate lab. At one intersection some snooty banker and his drinking buddies were lined up 5-across as I was trying to step onto the curb from the street. All I could say in my heat-stroked fervor was "Really? Really." Five steps later I hear the prick shout "yeah, dude, really". Bankers. Really.
I few minutes later I get to the venue, looking forward to seeing old colleagues, and hopefully a few future ones, as well. But what I didn't realize was that JPMorganChaseCitiBankofWherever was also a sponsor. And they invited two friends, and so on, and so on, until probably more than half the people there were from areas very much outside of the entertainment biz. At least they did kick in a few bucks to sponsor some killer appetizers. But even the people who I feel are normally friends were just dismissive, or drunk-sloppy or looking around aimlessly for something better to come along and not even trying to engage, other than the obligatory introductions to the other people in their group who were similarly disinterested. Maybe I just didn't have my "he's-hot" face on. Or maybe it was the bankers. Really! And that was supposed to be the pinnacle [networking] event of Pride Week. More actually came of the Garden Party when I was in a baseball cap and t-shirt. Go figure.
But aside from all that, I did have a contact at one of the channels forward my resume for a finance position to her/his HR contact with a recommendation they bring me in for a meeting. That was nice. And there was also an email from the alumni office with a contact at a bank looking for an equity research associate to cover the entertainment and digital space. That might be cool. Aside from the bankers. Let's see if Mister Blister is singing a different tune in a few months. (After all, it would be good to get some modeling experience to eventually be more competitive for strategy positions; and they can't ALL be self-aggrandizing, ego-inflated, philosophically immature immoralists, can they?) Maybe there'd be an opportunity to conduct research in other languages and travel to other countries or offices to get a real sense of the pulse of the industry. Alas, probably just a pipe dream. Did I mention I love planes, and getting on them yet? Well, that may not exactly work out, but it's always a good idea to keep one's options open. And have a computer that works. And stay out of the heat if it has a tendency to make you bitchy (-ier than usual). And eat your peas. And look both ways before crossing. And cross your 'i's and dot your 't's. And wash behind your ears... and...
OK, faithful reader, signing out for now.
M Blister
Rather unfortunately, my Sony VAIO computer is mentally ill. It's also two shakes away from being an self-amputee as various pieces of plastic-disguised-as-high-quality-carbon-composites fall off. Since they don't have an insane asylum for laptops, that means it's time to buy a replacement. There seems to be a common thread in my life with alternating positive and negative experiences with Sony, but I think I'm finally ready to cut the cord and end it once and for all (my idiotic pattern of buying a VAIO, having it break twice as fast at four times the price of the leading brand, getting frustrated, SWEARING I'll never get another Sony, then getting seduced by the newest model's sexy exterior, glistening screen, powerful underchassis, and Hamptons-esque price tag).
But what does this have to do with unemployment, and how does it enter this Unguide - the place for all the things not to do when trying to find a job? Well, in today's digital age, it's would be damn near, if not literally, impossible to get a job without a solid, efficient and reliable computer for:
- revising resumes
- sending emails
- Internet Exploring job openings
- getting invitations to networking events
- applying through those appalling online career sites
- printing out resumes
- looking at LinkedIn, RSS Feeds, Twittering about Tweets, Tweeting about Twits, Facebooking, friending, forwarding, flipping, flopping, flapping, and Digg-ing
(In case you're wondering, that last one is just a feeble attempt to increase my search hits by using popular keywords while demonstrating digital marketing savvy.)
So back to why buying a new computer suxx. First of all, most of the commercial sites don't have a lot of detailed information, or a weird way of comparing, or a list of specs that are not close to what matters, like does the slate gunmetal gray look better than the lava black. Take the processor for instance - will I really notice the difference between an Intel i5 at 2.66GHz and "turbo boost" to 3.06GHz versus the Intel i7 at 2.81GHz and boost to 3.17GHz. Probably not. And if I did, I should be making a lot more money in this market with skills and knowledge like that!
In the end it came down to this: I looked at some computers in real-life at Best Buy and realized what was wrong with my current computer - aside from the right-click button not working, the screen's left hinge being broken, the Windows 7 upgrade freezing every time I have more than 5 browser windows open and having a headphone jack that only works in one ear. When looking at emails, spreadsheets and documents, the newfangled 16:9 "high def aspect ratio" leaves me with too little vertical space and useless horizontal borders. One easy way to fix that: find a laptop with a screen that rotates from landscape to portrait (with actual computing accumen unlike the iTampon, or whatever it's called). Or, ummm: get a bigger computer. Ooooh, how in love I was with my brain-dead VAIO's compact design and light-as-a-feather weight. I nearly got a Netbook if I could have found one with a DVD player, but that apparently defies what the definition of a Netbook is.
And once I decided just maybe bigger is better (in terms of computer screen size), I noticed some of these computers have keyboards which come with a number pad on the side. Whoa, now that's HOT! I never thought much of them until I had one on my desktop at work, and rarely ever use the fake number pad inconveniently placed on the right side of the u, j and m keys. And the other thing I've been waiting 6 years for is a back-lit keyboard. Ooooh, how I just love to write emails (and drafts of cheesy romance novels) at 2am with nothing but the flicker of late-nite TV programming to light the room. I even bought a USB clip-on light to help a few years ago, but that's about as useful as a plug-in heat lamp in the Sahara (Sex and the City 2 reference, in case you missed it, oh faithful one).
During a jaunt to the local BestBuy to return my wireless router which Belkin customer support fried while on the phone once, I decided to saunter down to the laptop section and browse the goods. After some extensive conversations with the only sales rep on the floor, I managed narrow it down to the Toshiba or the... no. Say it isn't so. I won't do it. But. It's pretty. And not as expensive as the last one. Dangit! The only other model that seemed to give me the features and style I was looking for was a Sony F12U3C456K model. Sigh. So having had my computer freeze up 4 times in the last week, losing two blog post drafts and the screen snap out of place twice in 8 hours, I knew I had to act quickly. I mean, if I had been actually going to IvyExec or the Ladders that day, and found a job I wanted to apply to, it wouldn't do me any good if I couldn't craft an eloquent response to a potential employer because my VAIO was in 35 pieces on floor, would it? (Note: the initial damage would be a computer in three pieces when the screen snaps off - the remaining 32 come from violently throwing what's left of the computer against the concrete 10' ceiling, and whacking the cascading silicon remains with a graphite tennis racket.) Besides, it was a Thursday, and I had all day Friday to hunt the concrete jungle for that career to end all careers, right?
And that kicked off a rather exhaustive 9 hour comparison one I got home of Toshiba Satellite T40s, L650s, M480s, A660s, qrst9000s and whatever other models they have all of which differed by 3 components, with no explanation of why the L650 with the i5 processor and 4GB of RAM was more expensive than the R2D2-670 with an i7 processor and 6GB of RAM. Then a miracle happened. I begrudgingly surfed (more like doggie paddled) on over to the sonystyle website and got one of those cutesy little pop-up floating menu screens saying "would you like to chat with a live representative?" just like when you make reservations at aa.com (it's pretty cool actually - an airline representative will call YOU?; brilliant marketing). So I chatted and asked which model met my needs best. Of course their answer was the Z-series which started at $1999 and didn't have the number pad, as opposed to the EB-series which started at $699 and did. But I was amazed that as I asked a few questions and browsed the various offerings and specs, the customer service person actually was able to answer all of my questions. All of them. Every one. Even when I asked what the difference in size between the track pads was across three of the product lines. She even told me when I joked that I wished I could trade-in my old VAIOs like when you buy a new car, that any Sony store would accept them and give me some in-store credit value or something. That of course predicates wanting to ever buy another piece of Sony electronics. And would probably give me even less value than my ill-fated "bonus" (about half a paycheck) that Sony so graciously sent me after leaving the company and saving over $3 million in marketing expenditures so the fat cats could make the next installment on their 45' yachts. But I digress. (Like you didn't see that coming.)
In the end, I had customized and configured a beautiful Sony VAIO EB36-21-hut-hut and a solid Toshiba Satellite A660-TSe1i0t, for $1700 and $1400 respectively (both, of course, with Office 2010 Professional pre-loaded, because I DON'T STEAL software. Or music. I'm old-school like that.) And 10 seconds before hitting the Check-out button on the Sony (god save me), I noticed a pre-configured Toshiba with the i5 processor, 4MB of RAM, 500GB hard drive, number pad (for all that Excel I do), backlit keyboard, double-finger entry trackpad like on the iPhone, and Music-while-the-computer-Sleeps with Harmon-Kardon speakers for only $699. Whoa, that's a good price. And wouldn't you know that just as I was about to checkout and click Pay Now, I decided to quickly check some online reviews. Most reviewers had reviled the new VAIO models, and the Toshiba was too new to have comments or analysis. I finally found one site that had a post, and just as it opened - wouldn't you know - my entire system hemmoraged white light. The pointer disappeared, all the open windows went blank, and the desktop started sputtering. It took me 15 minutes of trying different keyboard shortcuts and trying to grab at different programs to close them out. I finally snatched one of the gadgets and closed it freeing a few kb of memory. That allowed me to find another one and close it freeing up a few more kb and so on until I was able to close Outlook and Excel. Yup. It's time for a new computer. After closing almost all the open applications, I finally got back to the order screen, and clicked OK. And then got one of those pesky "Please Log In to your Account" screens. LUCKILY, the cart still had everything saved and ready to go. Whew! Technology pleases. And technology pains.
But the day was not a complete loss from a career development perspective. One of my favorite entertainment conglomerates had a Pride Mixer in Murray Hill. I put on a nice shirt and suit, slinked to the subway and was fortunate to get an air conditioned subway before too long. But the walk from the subway to the bar was a little less forgiving. It was only 6 blocks, but at 92F in the shade, it didn't take long before I was panting like a chocolate lab. At one intersection some snooty banker and his drinking buddies were lined up 5-across as I was trying to step onto the curb from the street. All I could say in my heat-stroked fervor was "Really? Really." Five steps later I hear the prick shout "yeah, dude, really". Bankers. Really.
I few minutes later I get to the venue, looking forward to seeing old colleagues, and hopefully a few future ones, as well. But what I didn't realize was that JPMorganChaseCitiBankofWherever was also a sponsor. And they invited two friends, and so on, and so on, until probably more than half the people there were from areas very much outside of the entertainment biz. At least they did kick in a few bucks to sponsor some killer appetizers. But even the people who I feel are normally friends were just dismissive, or drunk-sloppy or looking around aimlessly for something better to come along and not even trying to engage, other than the obligatory introductions to the other people in their group who were similarly disinterested. Maybe I just didn't have my "he's-hot" face on. Or maybe it was the bankers. Really! And that was supposed to be the pinnacle [networking] event of Pride Week. More actually came of the Garden Party when I was in a baseball cap and t-shirt. Go figure.
But aside from all that, I did have a contact at one of the channels forward my resume for a finance position to her/his HR contact with a recommendation they bring me in for a meeting. That was nice. And there was also an email from the alumni office with a contact at a bank looking for an equity research associate to cover the entertainment and digital space. That might be cool. Aside from the bankers. Let's see if Mister Blister is singing a different tune in a few months. (After all, it would be good to get some modeling experience to eventually be more competitive for strategy positions; and they can't ALL be self-aggrandizing, ego-inflated, philosophically immature immoralists, can they?) Maybe there'd be an opportunity to conduct research in other languages and travel to other countries or offices to get a real sense of the pulse of the industry. Alas, probably just a pipe dream. Did I mention I love planes, and getting on them yet? Well, that may not exactly work out, but it's always a good idea to keep one's options open. And have a computer that works. And stay out of the heat if it has a tendency to make you bitchy (-ier than usual). And eat your peas. And look both ways before crossing. And cross your 'i's and dot your 't's. And wash behind your ears... and...
OK, faithful reader, signing out for now.
M Blister
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
How To Spend $115 on Mountain Dew
I’m an entertainer. I like to see people smile, and hear them laugh. I also like to entertain, and put 14 years of “chicken or beef” flight attendant training to good use – a neatly filled ramekin of hummus here or a gently cooked pork tenderloin with sprigs of rosemary there.
So returning from getting passport photos today (why did I go the Post Office of all places to do this?), I stopped by the lair of my evil nemesis The Food Emporium, looking simply for a 20 ounce bottle of Mountain Dew to help keep my energy and focus up as I followed up on several contacts made at last night’s Garden Party and as I applied for a few new positions that opened up at NBCU and MTVN.
But appalled that a 20 ounce bottle cost as much or more than a 2-liter bottle ($1.99 what?), I huffed down the aisles to get more value for my money. Aaaaaaand while I’m here, I should get some bananas for smoothies. And oh yes, the last time I was in Gristede’s they were charging $6.99/lb for ground beef, so I picked up a pound to put in the freezer in case I have a craving at 2am for Macaroni & Cheese hotdish (a Minnesota specialty with ground beef and cream of mushroom soup – a definite step up from Spam goulash, as I learned at my 2nd week in the Pines last year).
Tracking my expenses to the nickel until I have a more steady flow of cash, I realized I have spent less than my budget on groceries, eating out and food for June. (Although truth be told, I would still track my expenses to the nickel because I have a torrid love affair with Excel and her powerful, strapping spreadsheets.) So I also decided to pick up a few staples. A good Minnesota boy can’t go far without Miracle Whip and ketchup.
Suddenly, my little half cart is filled with groceries. Did you know they still make Twinkies? Spongy, greasy, tasty, cream-filled Twinkies. Mmmmmm. And then Haagen-Dazs was on sale. I'm trying to kick the habit, but a 2 pints for $6, it was too good a deal to pass up.
And 40 minutes later I have spent $115 on groceries and wasted yet another two hours that I could have devoted to my job search. But don't worry about swimsuit season - I have a bag of carrots and two large carb-burning celery hearts in the fridge as well. And the weight of carrying the groceries home must have burned at *least* 300 calories. So I'll just have TWO scoops of Haagen-Dazs instead of three (pronounced "five").
Thanks for checking in, oh faithful reader - I'll save some leftovers in the fridge for ya...
So returning from getting passport photos today (why did I go the Post Office of all places to do this?), I stopped by the lair of my evil nemesis The Food Emporium, looking simply for a 20 ounce bottle of Mountain Dew to help keep my energy and focus up as I followed up on several contacts made at last night’s Garden Party and as I applied for a few new positions that opened up at NBCU and MTVN.
But appalled that a 20 ounce bottle cost as much or more than a 2-liter bottle ($1.99 what?), I huffed down the aisles to get more value for my money. Aaaaaaand while I’m here, I should get some bananas for smoothies. And oh yes, the last time I was in Gristede’s they were charging $6.99/lb for ground beef, so I picked up a pound to put in the freezer in case I have a craving at 2am for Macaroni & Cheese hotdish (a Minnesota specialty with ground beef and cream of mushroom soup – a definite step up from Spam goulash, as I learned at my 2nd week in the Pines last year).
Tracking my expenses to the nickel until I have a more steady flow of cash, I realized I have spent less than my budget on groceries, eating out and food for June. (Although truth be told, I would still track my expenses to the nickel because I have a torrid love affair with Excel and her powerful, strapping spreadsheets.) So I also decided to pick up a few staples. A good Minnesota boy can’t go far without Miracle Whip and ketchup.
Suddenly, my little half cart is filled with groceries. Did you know they still make Twinkies? Spongy, greasy, tasty, cream-filled Twinkies. Mmmmmm. And then Haagen-Dazs was on sale. I'm trying to kick the habit, but a 2 pints for $6, it was too good a deal to pass up.
And 40 minutes later I have spent $115 on groceries and wasted yet another two hours that I could have devoted to my job search. But don't worry about swimsuit season - I have a bag of carrots and two large carb-burning celery hearts in the fridge as well. And the weight of carrying the groceries home must have burned at *least* 300 calories. So I'll just have TWO scoops of Haagen-Dazs instead of three (pronounced "five").
Thanks for checking in, oh faithful reader - I'll save some leftovers in the fridge for ya...
Thursday, June 17, 2010
LinkedIn and Tweeting and Blogs: Oh MY!
Mister Blister had the distinct pleasure of attending a panel discussion last week on the evils of - I mean the advantages of - Social Networking at the delightfully appointed Samsung Experience at the Time Warner Center at Columbus Circle in New York.
That inspired me to post about the topic, and the words "LinkedIn and Tweeting and Blogs: Oh MY!" kept running through my head. (And 20 points for the first Commenter who can spot where the reference comes from and 10 bonus points for showing the relationship to the original ;-)
Social networking is not as new as many people may think, just the fad of it all. Dating and buddy sites like connexion.org have been around since 2003, which is seven years. That's like a first-grader compared to these toddlers going through their Terrible Twos. (OK, so Facebook actually was founded in early 2004, but it only became a Shirley Temple-style DARLING in the last two years. Feel free to Comment and correct me. But please - don't sue me.)
The interesting thing is that most people on connexion.org just have 15-20 Friends and they're people you actually *know*, not someone with a hot picture who friended you to increase their own friend count and fake popularity. It's worth checking out, as they also provide news for the GLBT community and aside from the occasional shirtless profile picture, has a less sleazy raison-d'etre.
The panel on social networking was nice, and it was good to hear some real-world examples of successes from companies that have been able to engage with and pinpoint preferences from customers to build loyalty and reflect what those customers want. It was also a great event for reconnecting with (or meeting in person the first time) with no less than four acquaintances from the business school world - you can never underestimate the value of that face time, especially when you're doing something to help out. Plus that had nice finger sandwiches for hors d'oeuvres.
Only thing was that whether it was the heat, nerves, or something completely different, I found myself not feeling well just before the panel ended and driven by a compulsion to get a chicken chimichanga - neither good for the arteries nor the waistline, but ooooh so tasty.
So in this Unguide to Unemployment - Tip #37: when unemployed, even if you're feeling nauseous, DON'T leave before the networking begins. There may have been several potential business models or partners to have aligned with down the line.
Now, to find out if Mister Blister actually had food poisoning, or a complete nervous breakdown, well
Stay tuned, old faithfuls
Footnote: this posting was originally begun Thursday morning - and somehow mysteriously was left Uncomplete until Sunday night. Hmmm, what was going on for Mister Blister in these intervening four days??
That inspired me to post about the topic, and the words "LinkedIn and Tweeting and Blogs: Oh MY!" kept running through my head. (And 20 points for the first Commenter who can spot where the reference comes from and 10 bonus points for showing the relationship to the original ;-)
Social networking is not as new as many people may think, just the fad of it all. Dating and buddy sites like connexion.org have been around since 2003, which is seven years. That's like a first-grader compared to these toddlers going through their Terrible Twos. (OK, so Facebook actually was founded in early 2004, but it only became a Shirley Temple-style DARLING in the last two years. Feel free to Comment and correct me. But please - don't sue me.)
The interesting thing is that most people on connexion.org just have 15-20 Friends and they're people you actually *know*, not someone with a hot picture who friended you to increase their own friend count and fake popularity. It's worth checking out, as they also provide news for the GLBT community and aside from the occasional shirtless profile picture, has a less sleazy raison-d'etre.
The panel on social networking was nice, and it was good to hear some real-world examples of successes from companies that have been able to engage with and pinpoint preferences from customers to build loyalty and reflect what those customers want. It was also a great event for reconnecting with (or meeting in person the first time) with no less than four acquaintances from the business school world - you can never underestimate the value of that face time, especially when you're doing something to help out. Plus that had nice finger sandwiches for hors d'oeuvres.
Only thing was that whether it was the heat, nerves, or something completely different, I found myself not feeling well just before the panel ended and driven by a compulsion to get a chicken chimichanga - neither good for the arteries nor the waistline, but ooooh so tasty.
So in this Unguide to Unemployment - Tip #37: when unemployed, even if you're feeling nauseous, DON'T leave before the networking begins. There may have been several potential business models or partners to have aligned with down the line.
Now, to find out if Mister Blister actually had food poisoning, or a complete nervous breakdown, well
Stay tuned, old faithfuls
Footnote: this posting was originally begun Thursday morning - and somehow mysteriously was left Uncomplete until Sunday night. Hmmm, what was going on for Mister Blister in these intervening four days??
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
It Comes From the Heart
As things get tough, at some point you think - well, it really can't get much worse, can it? I have my health, I have my friends, and I live in one of the greatest and most admired (and/or hated) cities in the world, at the heart of all the action.
But then you wake up early, trying through great inertia to just get some gym clothes on and do a quick 20 minute work out before your lunch meeting with a contact at one of your favorite target companies. Then you decide to put on those flashy Nike sneakers that actually talk to your iPhone. Or at least they're supposed to. You put in the Nike+ sensor, but somehow it's not working. Note to self: another task to distract from the job search - replace that sensor at the Apple store. If they are willing to replace it. Note to self 2: the frustration of having them not replace it could be more worse than the joy of being able to track those workouts.
So at about the same time, you get a text message on the phone that now is *not* willing to be your workout buddy. The person you'd been dating has just decided to reconcile with an ex. In response, you start to tap out: "I'm very happy for you and hope you have a great summer". It's a message that comes from the heart. But so is the OTHER message you almost sent: "thanks for dumping me by text message; you're a douche, and by the way, I hope that tingling feeling ends up being an infection that antibiotics won't cure". See, both messages from the heart - one takes the high road, the other? Much more satisfying. Well, it was only three dates, so what can ya do? No biggie.
But in such matters, no matter what the circumstances, Mister Blister would always opt for the high road, in the high styled tradition of Miss Manners and Carrie Bradshaw (at least SHE got a Post-It). And you still have time to get a good workout in before your networking lunch, which could help re-energize your search and outlook. Just a quick check of email before--
oh CRAP! "Dear Mister Blister, I've had a number of meetings moved around, and am unfortunately not available to meet this week. How does three weeks from next Thursday sound?"
The second response to said ex above may actually apply it this case, but once again...
"Thanks for letting me know. I hope the meetings go well. I certainly look forward to meeting with you in three weeks and sharing information about developments in the industry." Snore. But it comes from the heart. The black heart laboriously lub-dubbing away in the black hole of a pit that is my soul. But it comes from the heart, and that's what's important.
Career options seems to be slimming, and in the far off distance I hear "Peanuts, anyone?" "Would you like chicken or beef?" Chicken or beef? chickenorbeef chknorbeefchknorbeef
xoxo, oh faithful reader - from the heart
But then you wake up early, trying through great inertia to just get some gym clothes on and do a quick 20 minute work out before your lunch meeting with a contact at one of your favorite target companies. Then you decide to put on those flashy Nike sneakers that actually talk to your iPhone. Or at least they're supposed to. You put in the Nike+ sensor, but somehow it's not working. Note to self: another task to distract from the job search - replace that sensor at the Apple store. If they are willing to replace it. Note to self 2: the frustration of having them not replace it could be more worse than the joy of being able to track those workouts.
So at about the same time, you get a text message on the phone that now is *not* willing to be your workout buddy. The person you'd been dating has just decided to reconcile with an ex. In response, you start to tap out: "I'm very happy for you and hope you have a great summer". It's a message that comes from the heart. But so is the OTHER message you almost sent: "thanks for dumping me by text message; you're a douche, and by the way, I hope that tingling feeling ends up being an infection that antibiotics won't cure". See, both messages from the heart - one takes the high road, the other? Much more satisfying. Well, it was only three dates, so what can ya do? No biggie.
But in such matters, no matter what the circumstances, Mister Blister would always opt for the high road, in the high styled tradition of Miss Manners and Carrie Bradshaw (at least SHE got a Post-It). And you still have time to get a good workout in before your networking lunch, which could help re-energize your search and outlook. Just a quick check of email before--
oh CRAP! "Dear Mister Blister, I've had a number of meetings moved around, and am unfortunately not available to meet this week. How does three weeks from next Thursday sound?"
The second response to said ex above may actually apply it this case, but once again...
"Thanks for letting me know. I hope the meetings go well. I certainly look forward to meeting with you in three weeks and sharing information about developments in the industry." Snore. But it comes from the heart. The black heart laboriously lub-dubbing away in the black hole of a pit that is my soul. But it comes from the heart, and that's what's important.
Career options seems to be slimming, and in the far off distance I hear "Peanuts, anyone?" "Would you like chicken or beef?" Chicken or beef? chickenorbeef chknorbeefchknorbeef
xoxo, oh faithful reader - from the heart
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Blogging by Phone is Hot
"Stay tuned, oh --" you know the rest...
Just WHEN will all be revealed?
Interestingly enough, I started logging before anyone was blogging.
I was in a volunteer position (called an "internship") at a post-Bubble internet start-up that produced online newscasts covering the foreign currency exchange market. I was indeed a webcaster long before YouTube was let out of Pandora's Box and into the hearts of billions of bored housewives, curious pre-teens and giggling stoner college kids.
Since it was a start-up, we had to research the news stories on one computer, then email it to ourselves and pull it up on another computer connected to the camera and webcast teleprompter software. It was kind of cool, if not clunky, and right at the start, I realized I needed a way to organize and track the broadcasts I'd done, so I kept my "Mister Blister's Daily Log for [insert date here]" that included a short summary of what I'd learned that day and the files/webcasts I'd uploaded. (Except I wasn't called Mister Blister yet; forgive the artistic license.)
And if there's one thing that someone who's obsessive, compulsive - or even both, a nasty combination - needs, it's structure, and something to grasp onto. So in 2005 when I moved from a more nomadic career to a corporate version of indentured servitude, I kept my little Daily Log going. It allowed me to laugh, to cry, to bitch, to moan, to figure out some deeper questions, and all-around feel quite human.
Since I'd followed a very non-traditional career path, and most people were more confused by me than they knew what to do with, these Logs also helped me keep my sanity.
But over time, they grew to overcome me. I'd be late for sports practice, or dinner with a friend, or just getting the hell out of the office, and I'd compulsively *have* to at least make notes about the day so I could send my Daily Log first thing the next morning. I pretended I was being practical and thinking of the future by including useful bits of information like:
- when I started my day
- when I ended my day
- what tasks I accomplished
- who I had meetings with
- how many emails were in my Inbox
- how much I weighed that morning
- what color socks I wore
because loving to work with data in addition to using people skills to help others become more United, I wanted to have a body of data I could play around with, just in my spare time. (And no, I didn't really keep track of what color socks I wore - shame on you for thinking I was that bad.)
But it did provide me an opportunity to do something creative, even if it was just for myself. That is me and my future self, who I imagined would read back in ten years' time about how I tortured myself over the most mundane things, like a five-year old who didn't get the green lollipop at the dentist and was instead stuck with the purple one. Well, kind of like that. More like, "I had such a great idea for a fun graphic on this PowerPoint presentation, and my boss made me take it out, leaving the presentation dull and lifeless" like Shirley MacLaine without her other selves. But it went on and on compulsively every day, until I had calluses on my typing fingers and blisters on my computer-screen-staring retinas.
So I had to quit, cold turkey. It was terrible. But on August 11, 2009, I wrote my last-ever "Work Log for 2009/08/11". And it gets even worse - I didn't even send it for a week. Things were getting so soul-draining at work, that I was out sick for almost a week, and didn't actually send it until (gasp) August 19th. But at last I was free to live my life, unshackled by the need to plead to my future self.
Little did I realize it was the beginning of a downward spiral leading to where I am today.
For more, stay tuned, oh faithful reader!
P.S. so Just WHEN will all be revealed? All in due time through these blog posts, maybe once a day, maybe once a night, maybe once a month. Stay tuned, oh faithf-- awww, cripes, I already said that.
I was in a volunteer position (called an "internship") at a post-Bubble internet start-up that produced online newscasts covering the foreign currency exchange market. I was indeed a webcaster long before YouTube was let out of Pandora's Box and into the hearts of billions of bored housewives, curious pre-teens and giggling stoner college kids.
Since it was a start-up, we had to research the news stories on one computer, then email it to ourselves and pull it up on another computer connected to the camera and webcast teleprompter software. It was kind of cool, if not clunky, and right at the start, I realized I needed a way to organize and track the broadcasts I'd done, so I kept my "Mister Blister's Daily Log for [insert date here]" that included a short summary of what I'd learned that day and the files/webcasts I'd uploaded. (Except I wasn't called Mister Blister yet; forgive the artistic license.)
And if there's one thing that someone who's obsessive, compulsive - or even both, a nasty combination - needs, it's structure, and something to grasp onto. So in 2005 when I moved from a more nomadic career to a corporate version of indentured servitude, I kept my little Daily Log going. It allowed me to laugh, to cry, to bitch, to moan, to figure out some deeper questions, and all-around feel quite human.
Since I'd followed a very non-traditional career path, and most people were more confused by me than they knew what to do with, these Logs also helped me keep my sanity.
But over time, they grew to overcome me. I'd be late for sports practice, or dinner with a friend, or just getting the hell out of the office, and I'd compulsively *have* to at least make notes about the day so I could send my Daily Log first thing the next morning. I pretended I was being practical and thinking of the future by including useful bits of information like:
- when I started my day
- when I ended my day
- what tasks I accomplished
- who I had meetings with
- how many emails were in my Inbox
- how much I weighed that morning
- what color socks I wore
because loving to work with data in addition to using people skills to help others become more United, I wanted to have a body of data I could play around with, just in my spare time. (And no, I didn't really keep track of what color socks I wore - shame on you for thinking I was that bad.)
But it did provide me an opportunity to do something creative, even if it was just for myself. That is me and my future self, who I imagined would read back in ten years' time about how I tortured myself over the most mundane things, like a five-year old who didn't get the green lollipop at the dentist and was instead stuck with the purple one. Well, kind of like that. More like, "I had such a great idea for a fun graphic on this PowerPoint presentation, and my boss made me take it out, leaving the presentation dull and lifeless" like Shirley MacLaine without her other selves. But it went on and on compulsively every day, until I had calluses on my typing fingers and blisters on my computer-screen-staring retinas.
So I had to quit, cold turkey. It was terrible. But on August 11, 2009, I wrote my last-ever "Work Log for 2009/08/11". And it gets even worse - I didn't even send it for a week. Things were getting so soul-draining at work, that I was out sick for almost a week, and didn't actually send it until (gasp) August 19th. But at last I was free to live my life, unshackled by the need to plead to my future self.
Little did I realize it was the beginning of a downward spiral leading to where I am today.
For more, stay tuned, oh faithful reader!
P.S. so Just WHEN will all be revealed? All in due time through these blog posts, maybe once a day, maybe once a night, maybe once a month. Stay tuned, oh faithf-- awww, cripes, I already said that.
For WHAT reason was Mister Blister driven to this desperate attempt to blog?
Welcome back, oh faithful reader. It's good to see you again. Well, not really see you so much as it is nice to have you see me again. Wait, that didn't come out right. But I would like to see you, too. Fill out that little Comments box thing below and let Mister Blister - and all the other readers - know more about you. After all, you're the reason we exist. Or, well, that this blog exists.
Now, down to business. For WHAT reason was Mister Blister driven to write this seminal (or perhaps 'original', ummm, let's say "first-ever") blog? Let's face it, the world has gone to the dogs. Iceland is/was/very nearly ended up in bankruptcy. The US mortgage crisis has caused most of Corporate America to end up on its collective ass. Greece is about to do a Titanic, possibly adding another iceberg to the line of plagues befuddling my beloved Olympics, through implicating Athens 2004 in some kind of money laundering scandal. Or something. And BP is trying to do to the South, what the Yankees already did 150 years ago (yes, it was only 145 years ago, although former President Bush sure seems to be having the last laugh).
As you'll soon see, it takes a while to get to the point. But that point is, with the global economy practically in tatters, being smart, charming, affable and hard working simply isn't enough to get a job. Even McDonalds can require "experience in advanced food service preparation techniques" and "achievement in six sigma customer-oriented dispute resolution" from its most successful candidates.
And I want to work in the television industry. Not just any part of the industry. I love cable TV. I feel it helps ease the pains of daily life through comedy, drama, and general entertainment. I want to be part of bringing that joy into people's homes. TV now has global appeal, and top-rated (usually but not always top-quality) programs are seen in dozens or even hundreds of countries. (Of course, after the break up of the Soviet Union and other Slavic empires, there are so many more to choose from - and I know, I was there - really.)
But to work in any kind of marketing, sales or branding position, all the major players want Digital Media experience. Social networking! I have a facebook page - two actually, though I just learned that's a violation of the Terms Of Service, oops. Apps! Hooray, I can now play Sudoku on the Subway and Shazam! (see prior post on hero-worship) can tell me what song I'm listening to (though I secretly wish it were called Isis! - see same prior post). HTML! I can figure out what means, no problem. Tweeting! Sure, I'll increase my 200 txt msgs per month to 1,500 to handle hearing that Miley Cyrus just had pizza for lunch. Blog! YES, at last Mister Blister can be counted as one of the cyber-cognocenti. Just let Mickey Mouse tell ME I'm not highly experienced in digital marketing. I see your iPad and raise you one handy dandy iPhone 4 (it even multi-tasks, so take that Palm Pre!).
So there's the very long and winding answer to for WHAT reason Mister Blister started a blog - to be a vital and vituperative participant in the digital age and demostrate professional proficiency in its evolution.
Disclaimer - I really wanted to have an introductory series of posts covering Who, What, Why, When and Where to have some kind of alliterative theme. Yup, saying 'for WHAT reason' *is* really just cheating by using two WHYs, with one in disguise, but it's my blog, so there. Life isn't fair. Watch out for blisters.
But I do like to keep things on a positive note, lest I become too snarky. As my career advisor ('life coach' is soooo '00s) likes to remind me, it is Show Time. Someone in HR could at this very moment be looking for a reason to screen me right out of contention for that job as a financial operations specialist (cashier) or starched cuisine captain (french fry operator). So in the immortal words of Herve Villachaize "Welcome To Fanta--", no wait. He said "boss, de plane, de plane". [tangent coming=> ] Ugh, how I wish I were on a plane right now. I'll go to Peoria, Poughkeepsie or Padukah - just let me soar once more! (This will become clearer in future posts; stay tuned, oh faithful reader.)
Yours truly,
Mister Blister
P.S. Did you know that with Google's blogger.com tool thing that you can't paste text into the blog box? How crazy is that? Or am I doing a total Betty White in not being able to figure it out.
P.P.S. Did you know that if you try to select all the text in the blog box, if you use the up arrow more times than there are lines of text - EVERYTHING YOU'VE WRITTEN vanishes in a poof of smoke? I didn't know that. I learned the hard way. And you can't type it somewhere else to be on the safe side and paste it in the damn blog box. Wow, that'll cause a blister on the path called Life.
Now, down to business. For WHAT reason was Mister Blister driven to write this seminal (or perhaps 'original', ummm, let's say "first-ever") blog? Let's face it, the world has gone to the dogs. Iceland is/was/very nearly ended up in bankruptcy. The US mortgage crisis has caused most of Corporate America to end up on its collective ass. Greece is about to do a Titanic, possibly adding another iceberg to the line of plagues befuddling my beloved Olympics, through implicating Athens 2004 in some kind of money laundering scandal. Or something. And BP is trying to do to the South, what the Yankees already did 150 years ago (yes, it was only 145 years ago, although former President Bush sure seems to be having the last laugh).
As you'll soon see, it takes a while to get to the point. But that point is, with the global economy practically in tatters, being smart, charming, affable and hard working simply isn't enough to get a job. Even McDonalds can require "experience in advanced food service preparation techniques" and "achievement in six sigma customer-oriented dispute resolution" from its most successful candidates.
And I want to work in the television industry. Not just any part of the industry. I love cable TV. I feel it helps ease the pains of daily life through comedy, drama, and general entertainment. I want to be part of bringing that joy into people's homes. TV now has global appeal, and top-rated (usually but not always top-quality) programs are seen in dozens or even hundreds of countries. (Of course, after the break up of the Soviet Union and other Slavic empires, there are so many more to choose from - and I know, I was there - really.)
But to work in any kind of marketing, sales or branding position, all the major players want Digital Media experience. Social networking! I have a facebook page - two actually, though I just learned that's a violation of the Terms Of Service, oops. Apps! Hooray, I can now play Sudoku on the Subway and Shazam! (see prior post on hero-worship) can tell me what song I'm listening to (though I secretly wish it were called Isis! - see same prior post). HTML! I can figure out what
So there's the very long and winding answer to for WHAT reason Mister Blister started a blog - to be a vital and vituperative participant in the digital age and demostrate professional proficiency in its evolution.
Disclaimer - I really wanted to have an introductory series of posts covering Who, What, Why, When and Where to have some kind of alliterative theme. Yup, saying 'for WHAT reason' *is* really just cheating by using two WHYs, with one in disguise, but it's my blog, so there. Life isn't fair. Watch out for blisters.
But I do like to keep things on a positive note, lest I become too snarky. As my career advisor ('life coach' is soooo '00s) likes to remind me, it is Show Time. Someone in HR could at this very moment be looking for a reason to screen me right out of contention for that job as a financial operations specialist (cashier) or starched cuisine captain (french fry operator). So in the immortal words of Herve Villachaize "Welcome To Fanta--", no wait. He said "boss, de plane, de plane". [tangent coming=> ] Ugh, how I wish I were on a plane right now. I'll go to Peoria, Poughkeepsie or Padukah - just let me soar once more! (This will become clearer in future posts; stay tuned, oh faithful reader.)
Yours truly,
Mister Blister
P.S. Did you know that with Google's blogger.com tool thing that you can't paste text into the blog box? How crazy is that? Or am I doing a total Betty White in not being able to figure it out.
P.P.S. Did you know that if you try to select all the text in the blog box, if you use the up arrow more times than there are lines of text - EVERYTHING YOU'VE WRITTEN vanishes in a poof of smoke? I didn't know that. I learned the hard way. And you can't type it somewhere else to be on the safe side and paste it in the damn blog box. Wow, that'll cause a blister on the path called Life.
And WHY is he (or she??) writing an Unguide to Unemployment
So only three posts in, and I already realize I have edits to make. I wanted to use the Who, What, Why, When, Where theme in getting started - it's simple, it's practical, and it's informative. Only I ran out of topics for the WHAT and had two topics for the WHY, so I cheated and turned one of the WHYs into a 'for WHAT reason'. Pretty lame, but I got away with it, dontcha think?
But isn't Kismet, just a BITCH! After going through all that rationalization, I realize my second WHY should have been WHAT after all - a WHAT (the hell) is an Unguide to Unemployment.
So since there are few rules on the Interweb, allow me to digress. It is, after all, what I do best. But I'll actually stick to the point and rather digress from the the 'WHY' constraint of this post.
An Unguide is sort of a way NOT to do things. Let's say you have a job, and then you leave that job (for reasons to be disclosed in the future). Then let's say that you have a tremendous amount of enthusiasm in the weeks that follow. You get great advice from co-workers before leaving. You set up literally 25 meetings to connect with people over the ensuing 2-3 weeks. You start to see a few postings that could end up being the dream of your jobs.
Then let's say everyone starts to tell you how the job market has improved, but it's still really tough out there. Then your personal surrogate Developmental Autonomy Department (your shrink) wants to delve into the deeper issues and emotions around your departure from that great job. And then you start to realize your boss was very uncommunicative, rarely gave any praise, and only infrequently helped you fix your mistakes since (s)he was used to figuring out everything on (her/his) own.
And then you start to struggle to see your true accomplishments and crowning achievements from a job you worked so hard at for nearly three years. Living in New York City, you often have to be the Best of the Best, the Cream of the Crop and always at the Top of your Game. It's pretty daunting without a team of friends, lovers, mentor, stylists, managers and producers to keep you running on all cylinders. Christina Aguilera doesn't roll out of bed looking that Bionic all by herself, you know. And it can be a pretty damning head game to have to keep your morale and self-esteem up in the Big Pond swimming with the sharks.
So yeah, you have friends, but they're all so *busy*. People start to reschedule appointments and meetings, then reschedule what they rescheduled. But "that's alright, that's OK, they're gonna work for US one day". (Sorry, couldn't resist a little plug for my college's favorite taunt when our football team was getting its pigskins slaughtered by the not-quite-as-affluent opposing team, in spite of the University being very community service oriented and pretty humble as far as Top-20-wanting-to-be-Top-10 schools go.) But in the end, those 25 meetings dwindle to 15, and the next 10 are increasingly harder to confirm.
So then you turn to the so-called Free Resume Critique offered by The Ladders. Some 22-year old brat living in his mom's basement in Hackensack decides to write a 6-page sonnet evicerating your resume, and just about every belief you've held about what makes an impression and gets interviews. What, no Objective Statement? Why how will anyone know what you're good at other than the bulleted accomplishments you have listed before your experience! What, only two pages? Anyone with more than four years experience and a degree has 3-, 4- or even more pages to their resume; everyone knows that! What, no quantitative bullet points to demonstate your ROI to prospective employers? I mean, other than the 7 or 8 you already have listed under your 4 most recent jobs. But HEY, for just a small fee of $695, we can completely *revolutionize* your resume, and get results. But all they've done is throw more self-doubt onto your accomplishments and ability to market yourself, all for their own greedy commercial ends. But don't worry, I haven't turned socialist yet, God Forbid! I still consume fast food, purchase unnecessary electronics and rack up credit card debt like a good Right Wing American, contributing to the re-stabilization of the economy. Just not through The Ladders' so-called Resume Writing scam.
So yup, I'm unemployed. Yup, I get roughly $10/hour in unemployment, or 1/10 of what I made 10 months ago. Yup, I don't have an idea of how to pay my rent in 15 days without taking out a cash advance at 21.99% APR, and that's with a 713 credit score. Something doesn't seem right here. I went to business school (a pretty good one). I paid my dues (union dues were $42/month when I left the airline industry 5 years ago). But sometimes your heart doesn't connect with what your mind knows it needs to do. There will no doubt be calls of "quit your whining and just do it" in the Comments section, but believe me, if it were that easy, this blog wouldn't exist.
In other words, this is a guide of how not to move through unemployment, and all the mistakes that are so easy to make along the way. Kind of an Unguide to Unemployment. Oh no, I feel another snarky moment coming on. Too, late, I'm already overcome; yelp!
Yes, there are Guides that tell you - get out of bed every day at 8am, go to the gym and get a Fresh Start on your rose-colored Day! There are Guides that tell you, go to the library, go to a cafe, go to your alumni career services office and meet with a career counselor. Wow, how 'bout that, my future is just solved in 20 minutes and I'll have whiter teeth in 30 days, no less.
Except for that one little overriding factor. I JUST DON'T FEEL UP TO IT!!!!! Sure, I can try to spout self-loving mantras to reaffirm my self-worth. Sure, I can make little Post-It's with 3 Things I Will Accomplish To-day. But this is New York. Somehow it's more fun to play the tortured artist, and blog about the situation rather than joining Doris Day's Mighty Shangri-La of precious and precocious little worker nymphs.
And at that very instant, Mister Blister has reached the end of "Why an Unguide to Unemployment".
Stay tuned, oh faithful reader...
But isn't Kismet, just a BITCH! After going through all that rationalization, I realize my second WHY should have been WHAT after all - a WHAT (the hell) is an Unguide to Unemployment.
So since there are few rules on the Interweb, allow me to digress. It is, after all, what I do best. But I'll actually stick to the point and rather digress from the the 'WHY' constraint of this post.
An Unguide is sort of a way NOT to do things. Let's say you have a job, and then you leave that job (for reasons to be disclosed in the future). Then let's say that you have a tremendous amount of enthusiasm in the weeks that follow. You get great advice from co-workers before leaving. You set up literally 25 meetings to connect with people over the ensuing 2-3 weeks. You start to see a few postings that could end up being the dream of your jobs.
Then let's say everyone starts to tell you how the job market has improved, but it's still really tough out there. Then your personal surrogate Developmental Autonomy Department (your shrink) wants to delve into the deeper issues and emotions around your departure from that great job. And then you start to realize your boss was very uncommunicative, rarely gave any praise, and only infrequently helped you fix your mistakes since (s)he was used to figuring out everything on (her/his) own.
And then you start to struggle to see your true accomplishments and crowning achievements from a job you worked so hard at for nearly three years. Living in New York City, you often have to be the Best of the Best, the Cream of the Crop and always at the Top of your Game. It's pretty daunting without a team of friends, lovers, mentor, stylists, managers and producers to keep you running on all cylinders. Christina Aguilera doesn't roll out of bed looking that Bionic all by herself, you know. And it can be a pretty damning head game to have to keep your morale and self-esteem up in the Big Pond swimming with the sharks.
So yeah, you have friends, but they're all so *busy*. People start to reschedule appointments and meetings, then reschedule what they rescheduled. But "that's alright, that's OK, they're gonna work for US one day". (Sorry, couldn't resist a little plug for my college's favorite taunt when our football team was getting its pigskins slaughtered by the not-quite-as-affluent opposing team, in spite of the University being very community service oriented and pretty humble as far as Top-20-wanting-to-be-Top-10 schools go.) But in the end, those 25 meetings dwindle to 15, and the next 10 are increasingly harder to confirm.
So then you turn to the so-called Free Resume Critique offered by The Ladders. Some 22-year old brat living in his mom's basement in Hackensack decides to write a 6-page sonnet evicerating your resume, and just about every belief you've held about what makes an impression and gets interviews. What, no Objective Statement? Why how will anyone know what you're good at other than the bulleted accomplishments you have listed before your experience! What, only two pages? Anyone with more than four years experience and a degree has 3-, 4- or even more pages to their resume; everyone knows that! What, no quantitative bullet points to demonstate your ROI to prospective employers? I mean, other than the 7 or 8 you already have listed under your 4 most recent jobs. But HEY, for just a small fee of $695, we can completely *revolutionize* your resume, and get results. But all they've done is throw more self-doubt onto your accomplishments and ability to market yourself, all for their own greedy commercial ends. But don't worry, I haven't turned socialist yet, God Forbid! I still consume fast food, purchase unnecessary electronics and rack up credit card debt like a good Right Wing American, contributing to the re-stabilization of the economy. Just not through The Ladders' so-called Resume Writing scam.
So yup, I'm unemployed. Yup, I get roughly $10/hour in unemployment, or 1/10 of what I made 10 months ago. Yup, I don't have an idea of how to pay my rent in 15 days without taking out a cash advance at 21.99% APR, and that's with a 713 credit score. Something doesn't seem right here. I went to business school (a pretty good one). I paid my dues (union dues were $42/month when I left the airline industry 5 years ago). But sometimes your heart doesn't connect with what your mind knows it needs to do. There will no doubt be calls of "quit your whining and just do it" in the Comments section, but believe me, if it were that easy, this blog wouldn't exist.
In other words, this is a guide of how not to move through unemployment, and all the mistakes that are so easy to make along the way. Kind of an Unguide to Unemployment. Oh no, I feel another snarky moment coming on. Too, late, I'm already overcome; yelp!
Yes, there are Guides that tell you - get out of bed every day at 8am, go to the gym and get a Fresh Start on your rose-colored Day! There are Guides that tell you, go to the library, go to a cafe, go to your alumni career services office and meet with a career counselor. Wow, how 'bout that, my future is just solved in 20 minutes and I'll have whiter teeth in 30 days, no less.
Except for that one little overriding factor. I JUST DON'T FEEL UP TO IT!!!!! Sure, I can try to spout self-loving mantras to reaffirm my self-worth. Sure, I can make little Post-It's with 3 Things I Will Accomplish To-day. But this is New York. Somehow it's more fun to play the tortured artist, and blog about the situation rather than joining Doris Day's Mighty Shangri-La of precious and precocious little worker nymphs.
And at that very instant, Mister Blister has reached the end of "Why an Unguide to Unemployment".
Stay tuned, oh faithful reader...
So WHO is this Mister Blister?
Well, the short answer is that Mister Blister is just a name that popped into my head this morning. Maybe it was divine intervention. Maybe it was a subtle something lurking in the back of my unconscious for weeks, maybe years.
But more likely, it has something to do with liking superheroes as a kid. I grew up without a dad and a single mom who was rarely around (or in a very good mood), and superheroes provided the role models that were lacking in my life. Lynda Carter in Wonder Woman (mostly just the first WWII-based season), Lindsay Wagner in the Bionic Woman (the *real* Bionic Woman, not the massacred Bizarro-world version creatively un-adapted by Laeta Kalogridis in 2007) and the family dynamic created by the Justice League of America allowed my imagination to run free and unbridled and foresee a great escape from poverty, humble beginnings and the inevitable boredom of growing up in rural but-we-considered-ourselves-suburban Minnesota. (Hint they don't usually have an 80-acre farm across from your high school in the suburbs, but that would change within 10 years of graduation.)
So in the vein of Mister Terrific, Mister Fantastic, Mister Miracle, and even Mister Ed (it's too hard to spell Mr. Mxyzptlk), I wanted a flashy name, something that rhymed. But there was already a Mister Twister. Hmmmm, what would be catch and memorable?
Then it dawned on me that life is hard, life is not fair, and life can grate on you, especially in the abrasive and ultimately competitive New York City. Since taking up running last summer, I've been thankfully blessed to suffer from few blisters on my feet (thank you Nike Shox). I haven't been so fortunate in other areas of my life, and while not bitter about the twists and turns of fate, it does sometimes feel like my soul gets blisters from walking down the metaphorical pathway called life.
So hence, Mister Blister was created. But really; just WHO is this Mister Blister? Well, our author...
... lives in New York...
... is gay (and by virtue of being a card-carrying homo, extreeeeemely witty; or is it snide? well, let's just go with snarky)...
... recently left a position in the music industry, and at a not very good time in the economy...
... loves languages and used to travel the world professionally...
... has roots in early New Wave and modern "dance rock" like Franz Ferdinand and Gossip (or The Band Formerly Known as 'The' Gossip)...
... while not a hero of the Super kind, has indeed joined the ranks of another band of heroes, with a dedication and commitment to helping others in the community...
... wants very much to share the story of what it's like to try to find one's place in the world.
More will become clear as the posts unfold.
Stay tuned oh faithful reader.
But more likely, it has something to do with liking superheroes as a kid. I grew up without a dad and a single mom who was rarely around (or in a very good mood), and superheroes provided the role models that were lacking in my life. Lynda Carter in Wonder Woman (mostly just the first WWII-based season), Lindsay Wagner in the Bionic Woman (the *real* Bionic Woman, not the massacred Bizarro-world version creatively un-adapted by Laeta Kalogridis in 2007) and the family dynamic created by the Justice League of America allowed my imagination to run free and unbridled and foresee a great escape from poverty, humble beginnings and the inevitable boredom of growing up in rural but-we-considered-ourselves-suburban Minnesota. (Hint they don't usually have an 80-acre farm across from your high school in the suburbs, but that would change within 10 years of graduation.)
So in the vein of Mister Terrific, Mister Fantastic, Mister Miracle, and even Mister Ed (it's too hard to spell Mr. Mxyzptlk), I wanted a flashy name, something that rhymed. But there was already a Mister Twister. Hmmmm, what would be catch and memorable?
Then it dawned on me that life is hard, life is not fair, and life can grate on you, especially in the abrasive and ultimately competitive New York City. Since taking up running last summer, I've been thankfully blessed to suffer from few blisters on my feet (thank you Nike Shox). I haven't been so fortunate in other areas of my life, and while not bitter about the twists and turns of fate, it does sometimes feel like my soul gets blisters from walking down the metaphorical pathway called life.
So hence, Mister Blister was created. But really; just WHO is this Mister Blister? Well, our author...
... lives in New York...
... is gay (and by virtue of being a card-carrying homo, extreeeeemely witty; or is it snide? well, let's just go with snarky)...
... recently left a position in the music industry, and at a not very good time in the economy...
... loves languages and used to travel the world professionally...
... has roots in early New Wave and modern "dance rock" like Franz Ferdinand and Gossip (or The Band Formerly Known as 'The' Gossip)...
... while not a hero of the Super kind, has indeed joined the ranks of another band of heroes, with a dedication and commitment to helping others in the community...
... wants very much to share the story of what it's like to try to find one's place in the world.
More will become clear as the posts unfold.
Stay tuned oh faithful reader.
Day 60 - Let the Unfun Unbegin
Welcome to the first posting of Mister Blister's (un)Guide to (un)Employment.
Yup, this is my first blog.
Yup, I was caught in the unemployment fad of 2009 (but wasn't claimed by the movement until 2010).
Yup, there are so far 0.00 (zero-point-zero-zero) people following this blog.
Nope, I have no idea where this will take me - but bejezuz, what a better way to understand the growth of social networking and the so-called Digital Media than to be an active participant in the Wonderful Word of Blogging (ahem, "...World of Blogging", that is)?
So just WHO is this Mister Blister?
For WHAT reason was Mister Blister driven to this desperate attempt to enter the future, or ah, "modern" age?
And WHY is he (or she??) writing an Unguide to Unemployment, whatever the hell that is?
And just WHEN will all be revealed?
The one question that will be answered immediately is WHERE you can follow these exploits.
Why right HERE at Mister Blister's Unguide to Unemployment, silly goose.
Stay tuned, oh faithful reader.
Yup, this is my first blog.
Yup, I was caught in the unemployment fad of 2009 (but wasn't claimed by the movement until 2010).
Yup, there are so far 0.00 (zero-point-zero-zero) people following this blog.
Nope, I have no idea where this will take me - but bejezuz, what a better way to understand the growth of social networking and the so-called Digital Media than to be an active participant in the Wonderful Word of Blogging (ahem, "...World of Blogging", that is)?
So just WHO is this Mister Blister?
For WHAT reason was Mister Blister driven to this desperate attempt to enter the future, or ah, "modern" age?
And WHY is he (or she??) writing an Unguide to Unemployment, whatever the hell that is?
And just WHEN will all be revealed?
The one question that will be answered immediately is WHERE you can follow these exploits.
Why right HERE at Mister Blister's Unguide to Unemployment, silly goose.
Stay tuned, oh faithful reader.
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