The America In Me

It seems appropriate this 4th of July weekend to think about America from an egotistical point of view. How is this country is getting to me? How is this country getting into me? I’ve been living here almost a year now and, while my Aussie accent remains strong (Mum says so!), there are definitely a few areas I’ve compromised on.

So, to the list!

I am American because…
I say ‘cell’ phone.
I write the date backwards: 7/4/09 = 4th of July 2009
I’ve switched spelling (I did this one quick smart!)... ‘s’ to ‘z’, the archaic spelling for ‘color’ etc.
I’ve recently started adding the extra comma to separate list items (I don’t like doing this one, it just looks stupid… eg. Dot, Mars, Emo, and Sally had a big fight. However, this is the way they do it in America and I don’t want it to look like I cant grammar right.)
I wear ‘sweatpants’ and runners in public (I would never do this in Melbourne).
I like filter coffee better than espresso-based coffee.
I use expressions like “let’s make this happen” and “we need to motivate” (although I am being a little bit ironic when I do this).
I love bagels and cream cheese.
I read the New York Times and never even bother to check The Age online any more.

I am not American because…
I always convert the temperature to Celsius.
Measuring in inches and feet drives me nut (same with miles per hour).
I refuse to refer to anyone’s mother as ‘mom’.
I can’t write or speak about ‘our nation’. I’ll always say ‘in America’.
I will never go to the gym (I know people do this in Australia, but it’s a lot more popular in America).
I have no idea about all those M places (Minnesota, Missouri, Minneapolis). Where are they? Are they states or cities? Do people like living there?
I’m not afraid of the word ‘socialism’.
I still freak a little any time someone says to me 'God bless you' (and not because I just sneezed).

Celebrity RIPs

Wow, I was just reading an article about Farrah Fawcett's fame. The journalist was really scrapping around trying to find 'highlights' in Fawcett's career. In the end the best she could say was, "Not all of her performances will stand the test of time, but what is worth remembering is how hard Farrah Fawcett tried."

Then my husband came home from work and asked me if I'd heard the big news.

"Farrah Fawcett died?" I guessed, half joking.

"No! Michael Jackson died," He replied.

"Wow!"

What is this feeling you have when someone really famous dies? It's like morbid excitement, and it's completely guilt free. Poor Michael, he was such weirdo, it's impossible to empathize with his life.

Although, Latoya will be sad. That makes me sad.

Anyway, there are a million things that can be said about Michael Jackson. I'm working reception at a law firm tomorrow, and I know what I'm going to be reading about all day...

Where does one begin to sum up his life?

Are you there Brooklyn Museum? It's me, Dot.

The Brooklyn Museum's website is like water to my oil.

I've been trying for a year to access this website (not all the time, but once every couple of months) and my server just won't let me in. Very frustrating!

Can anyone else access it: http://www.brooklynmuseum.org/

I called up the museum to comment - because that's what I do these days - and the nice lady at the information desk told me no one had ever called up to complain about the website before. She thought I was some Luddite who didn't know how to use the internet and made me read out to her the exact web address I was typing in. w w w dot b r o o k etc.

What is going on? Is it just me, or does this website not work?

No! Oh, no! It's not what you think! Noooo!

There must be a word of this feeling: when you have a delayed realization that somebody thinks you were doing something gross, which you weren't actually doing, but they've walked away from you thinking you were, and you suddenly realize what they must think, and you want to call them back and say, 'I wasn't just doing what you think I was doing!'

There must be a word for that.

For example.

I went to the laundromat today. I did a nice little half-load of laundry (it's good to be on top of these things and have your favorite underwear on stand-by for that last-minute job interview you get called in for...). Once everything was done I stuffed the clean clothes into my laundry bag. I never sort and fold at the laundromat because the lady who works at there doesn't like me, so I don't dilly-dally. These days I like to wash, dry, smash, grab, stuff laundry into mesh bag and run out.

On my way home I passed my favorite little wine store. It's one of those places run by a real New Yorker, who has been in the neighborhood forever. If a Wine Megamart ever tried to open next door, and put her out of business, the whole neighborhood would boycott Megamart, and then Hollywood would make a movie out of the boycott staring Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan.

I decided to go to Kathleen's Wine and buy a little something to go with dinner. I entered the store, which is really small, and put my laundry bag on the counter while I browsed. After selecting my wine I returned to the counter to pay.

Kathleen gave me a really icky look. I didn't understand why. She is normally super friendly, but today she was cold cold cold. I tried to engage her by making bland comment about the rain. But she ignored it!

In the end I just paid for the wine, grabbed my laundry and left.

It was only once I was out of the store that I realized that Kathleen thought I'd left my dirty laundry - in its see-through mesh bag, exposing a whole heap of colored cotton underwear - on her counter. No wonder she was dark at me.

I didn't just do what you think I just did! It was clean laundry!

Now the lady at the laundromat and Kathleen of Kathleen's Wines don't like me.

(See below for another example of that feeling you get when you realize somebody thinks you were doing something gross, which you weren't actually doing, but they've walked away from you thinking you were, and you suddenly realize what they must think, and you want to call them back and say, 'I wasn't just doing what you think I was doing!')

I am not an animal either!

Blogging Fox News Style

Breaking News
I just realised the job application I sent out today began with the sentence, "I am wish to apply for the position of Administrator" Idiot! I don't deserve employment!

Latest News
My lovely neighbours - Enin and the French girl - have brought a massive new sound system for their teevee. Tonight they watching something that sounds like Jurassic Park. Every time a dinosaur takes a step my bedroom rumbles like I live next door to an elevated train line. Just like Elwood in the Blues Brothers, only his apartment was bigger.

Current News
I'm temping again as receptionist at the property management company. When I left the office today my supervisor said to me, "Good-luck kid!"

Not My News
Mars is back in Manchester. She returned briefly to Australia last month and decided it wasn't for her. After completing, what she describes as, 'the world's biggest u-turn', she is currently back in the UK working a (sort-of-legal) position on the phones. She'll probably yell at me for blogging this. However, I suspect she no longer even reads this blog... testing... testing... are you there Mars?

I always knew those PETA people were stupid...

But it turns out they are also opportunistic, fundamentalist, heartless... blahs! I have no words.

Here's why:

PETA's latest ad campaign in Wichita seeks to capitalize on the shooting death of abortion doctor George Tiller in order to promote animal rights.

The bully brains of PETA's Wichita chapter are seeking to display billboards that urge both pro-choice and pro-life proponents to, simply, go vegetarian.

Here are the two ads:


Lindsay Rajt, the campaign manager for PETA, openly admits these ads were inspired by Tiller's death.

Rajt says, "While our hearts go out to the family and friends of George Tiller, we are hoping that these billboards will make those who are rightly shocked by his murder sit up and realize that behind closed doors, millions of animals are suffering every day, and that we as individuals can help to reduce the amount of violence and suffering in the world."

This group will do anything for attention.

We've all seen the ads of pretty celebrities posing nude for a cause, but other acts of ridiculousness PETA has stooped to included campaigning the town of Hamburg, New York to change its name to Veggieburg, and creating a 'Got Beer?' ad that encouraged college students to replace their milk mustaches with foam ones.

These campaigns are fluffy. They convey the idea that going vegetarian (or vegan, preferably) is a lifestyle choice. It is fun, and sometimes funny, and will make you feel good.

Yet, PETA have also constantly produced shock-material; the kind of ads that punch you in the face and scream, 'Murderer!'

In 2003, PETA held an exhibition 'Holocaust on a Plate' that juxtaposed images of people in concentration camps with pictures of animals on farms. In 2005, the 'Are Animals the New Slaves?' campaign compared images of slaves with chained animals.

How can an organization reconcile the meanings behind such overarching eclectic imagery? It's a mess. A moral mess of a message that comes out loud, shrill and stupefying:

• Take your clothes off if you're sexy, don't wear fur and be sexy.
• Fight for the rights of those who have been oppressed - the victims of war, slavery, labor abuse, discrimination - as embodied today by the little chickies.
• Your fisherman Daddy is a murderer.
• Your nostalgia for visiting the circus as a child is cruel.
• Your abuse of alcohol is fine, just don't drink milk.
  

And now,

• Your decision to have an abortion has nothing to do with the ethical treatment of animals. However, if you're feeling unsure you can ease your heart a little by choosing to be vegetarian.

Shut-up, PETA!!!!! Shut-up! Shut-up! Shut-up!

Shut-up and listen to me... I will neither 'choose' nor 'go' vegetarian. I have thought about it in the past (on grounds of the environmental damage caused by those farting cows) but now I won't. You've bullied me into stubborn irrationality.

PETA, you've yelled at people for too long. You've pranced around naked, making meat-eaters feel ugly and overweight. You hate us, yet you are obsessed with us. And now, you are daring to pull the memory of George Tillers into your self-righteous world.

GO AWAY PETA! Go and play with your baby kittens and your plastic sandals. Don't you dare turn the issue of abortion into a 'facade' for shock-tactic techniques that service your own agenda.

That's really... ah! Again, I have no words.

I'm not doing it!

So, re: stupid interview for fake-job I didn't even want...

On Tuesday morning I sent a typically insipid email to Ms Manager saying, "I'm sorry I missed you again on Sunday. I'm still happy to meet you at the office. What time would suit you?"

Ms Manager replied immediately saying, "I have an appointment at 2pm on Friday. But I can meet you after at 4pm at the office."

Danger! Danger! It's Tuesday morning and she wants to set-up an interview for Friday afternoon? An interview directly after another appointment? All the signs suggested FLAKE-OUT potential was extremely high.

However, I replied, "Blah blah blah... great, see you then."

Then, today, Friday, at 1pm, Ms Manager called me. She said, "I am not going to office today. But you can meet me down stairs."

I said, "You mean downtown?"

She said, "Yes. At my apartment."

I said, "You know... I don't think I'm interested any more. This is becoming a little bit silly. Thanks for your time."

She said, sounding a little bit surprised, "Oh... okay."

I said, "Yeah. Thanks. Bye!"

THE END. NO MORE!

I don't care. I had just finished getting dressed and doing hair, make-up etc, and then to find out she didn't even BOTHER to open the office today. Well, I can't be BOTHERED going downtown.

My only regret is I didn't use stronger language when withdrawing my interest. "This is a little bit silly..."

Come on, Dot! Grow some George Costanzas.

Latoya doesn't live here any more...

I got a new cell/mobile number about a year ago. It's about the fifth number I've had over the past eight years. I'm not precious about keeping old numbers and am quite happy to let them expire and die along with junky phones they inhabit.

However, a problem with having had so many phone numbers is they become quite difficult to remember. So, now, whenever I get a new one I like to ask for an "easy number". This means something with a sequence of repeating or patterning numbers. Obviously.

My latest number is great. It's all 6's and 4's and 3's and 0's. And that's all.

However, when I got my little Sim mate home and plugged him in I realized pretty quickly that T-Mobile had given me a recycled number. The phone immediately started ringing with people requesting to speak to Latoya.

Latoya.

At first I thought that setting up my voicemail and telling all unknown numbers that 'This is Dot' would get the message across. However, a year later, people are still ringing for Latoya.

It's sometimes annoying when Latoya's friends ring late at night. Which they do a lot. It's also frustrating when I see 'unknown number' and get excited thinking it's a potential employer, so I answer the phone in my most chirpy upbeat voice, only to hear a dial tone.

However. In general I am becoming more and more interested in the mysterious Latoya, and have collected clues trying to work out who she is. Let me paint a Latoya picture.

Firstly, you can guess what she looks like.

Peak Latoya

Next, I know that Latoya is very social because she gets calls all the time.

I know that it was Latoya's birthday last week. She got a text message from a cousin saying, "Happy 30 Birthday Cuz!"

I know that a lot of Latoya's friends don't speak English because sometimes when I try to explain - this is not Latoya's number! - they say something in Spanish and then hang up and then ring back and then hang up.

I know that one of Latoya's friends isn't very nice because he once left a message on my voicemail saying, "Latoya, ah wan' chew to get me some cigerettes." He's also not very smart because my voicemail clearly says, "Hi, you've called Dot..."

I know that Latoya may be involved with gangs because on Halloween last year I got a text message saying, "Warning. Don't go out tonight. Blood and Crips are having initiation."

So, that's the evidence.

And I am afraid I have come to the conclusion that Latoya was a prostitute and she is dead.

She gets so many calls from different people, at all times, that I'm guessing her number is listed somewhere for 'exotic services'. Also, I reckon that the bastard who wanted her to "get me some cigerettes" was her pimp. Who else would assume ownership of someone's services like that? Also, the Bloods and the Crips text implies she was close to/involed with very very scary crowds.

As for the 'happy birthday' message: that was from a mourning family member who shoots a text message into the void each year on Latoya's birthday. One for the homegirl...

Rest in Peace Latoya. You had an easy number, and now it's mine.

Isn't is stupid that, at 28 years old, I am applying for internships?

If I had never left the wonderful country of Oz I would not be in this predicament. My career would, most likely, have started two years ago and continued on a straight and narrow path of increasing responsibilities, salary and fancy job titles.

However, I met an American man who tempted me to New York where I thought my good career could be made, like all American things, bigger, better and with more branding power.

Unfortunately there is 280 million extra people in America, and a Recession, and a way of doing things that I just can't get used to. Lots of people are giving me advice on how to get a job in These Competitive Times with ideas of 'find a mentor', 'exploit old contacts', 'use the side-door entrance', and always 'hustle hustle hustle'.

Brantley Foster shows us how to hustle and become a Carlton Whitfield

But, what if I don't have the charm and smirk to pull of a hustle? I'm more the stoic stuffy type; I can't 'sell myself', so instead I have this (deluded) idea that by writing a good application letter and backing it up with a solid resume, I should at least land myself a few interviews.

But it's never quite that straight-forward.

I had a job interview last Wednesday. The position was 'unpaid intern', which I normal don't apply for. However, the job description also mentioned, 'with potential for paid employment after two months in the position of Executive Assistant to the Director'. Haha. Such. A. Joke. What a tease! What a nasty sly mean low-down son of a... Slave labour! (BTW: This is the direction Australia was headed with Work Choices... your rights at work ARE worth fighting for!)

Anyway, it was my first interview since getting back from Australia (not including temp work) so I thought I should just go and at least try out a new 'job interview' outfit.

Except that when I got to the office for midday appointment it was closed.

I called and left a nice message on the answering machine, "Sorry to miss you... I assume there's been a misunderstanding... I hope I get the chance to meet you soon..."

Later that evening I got an email from the office manager apologizing for 'missing me'. She said she had to run out for an urgent appointment. Fine. Manager then suggested I could come for an interview 'Sunday at the office' or 'Monday at my apartment'. Both options seemed really weird. I opted for the 'Sunday at the office' rather than having to mess with a split-personility of being a friendly well-mannered guest and an enthusiatic proffessional applicant in her apartment.

So I went to interview on Sunday and found the office closed again.

I left another message on the office answering machine (with only a slight slight expression of my annoyance), "Sorry to miss you... I assume there's been a misunderstanding again... I hope I get the chance to meet you soon...".

When I got home I found an email waiting for me from the manager. She said she had been feeling ill and closed up the office early. She would be at home all Sunday evening and Monday and I was welcome to drop around if I had the time.

This is where I am now, and I'm not sure how to proceed.

There's so many things that are odd about this situation, yet who am I to criticise a potential employer? Although, it doesn't feel like I'm setting up a job interview any more, it feels like trying to arrange a time for a tea party with a flakey friend.

This company is obviously a joke. I recognize the sloppy style. Someone with a little bit of money is dabbling with their 'own business'. They've got the website and the office space set-up... but can't quite seem to get production moving (as this is when the real work is required). They are lazy and are doomed to fail.

However this doesn't necessarily mean they won't be good (short-term) employers. I have worked for dying companies before, and the dumb perseverance of some people to keep operations running, despite all lack of ability and network, can create great places for a 'young gun' to take on oodles of responsibly. Of course, I prefer to work for smart people, however the experiences of working in a stupid office can be very enlightening in a trial-by-fire kind of way.

Do I bother to reschedule interview? Do I want this ridiculous unpaid job? Can I afford to be fussy?

Can my self-esteem afford to sit interview and then not get job?

What would Carlton Whitfield do?

Job list revised...

1. Apply for jobs (ongoing)
2. Find new apartment (for same or lesser rent yet with more space and natural light)
3. Laundry
4. Write great work of fiction
5. Email temp agency, "Hi, thanks for placing me at the blah blah assignment last week. I really enjoyed it and look forward to being placed at blah blah blah again."
6. Go for a run!
7. Email all those friends you barely have anymore because you hardly ever email them
8. Blog about something (other than this)
9. Re-order 'to do' list and with more realistic sense of priorities


Achieved over last four days...

1. Applied for internship (got a fab reference from ex-employer, now I'm just worried my essays on 'why I'd be a great intern for blah blah' weren't good enough...)
2. True Blood is available on Netflix... next in queue and I can't wait!
3. Chased up paychecks... $321 is all mine!