Apologies

To Reader(s):

I was all set to post every weekday in earnest this week, but then I totally forgot to post yesterday. But I figure that the what? third day in a row of Britney flashing the photogs is like the blogging equivalent of a snow day: why bother posting when you know you cannot compete with that trainwreck?

To Candidates:

This week, it’s totally not you, it’s me, and in this particular case, I actually do mean me. No matter how many cups of coffee I drink this week, I cannot wake up. It’s like my synaptic clefts got exponentially bigger over the holiday weekend and my little neurotransmitters are pumping at the same volume and so cannot make the jump. Like they just disappear off a cliff. And I wind up just sitting here staring off into space for ten minutes before I realize: I’ve been staring off into space for ten minutes.

(Aside: when reading about how neurons and the brain works, does anyone else GET COMPLETELY FREAKED OUT like, is that IT? Like somehow you throw enough of those things together and all of a sudden I can read and/or write a sentence, have a personality, prefer cats to dogs, sing in harmony? That just wigs me out.)

But anyway, Candidate, so I am giving you a total pass for the rest of the week because, quite frankly, I can barely tie my own shoes, much less make a measured assessment of your abilities against the job description. As long as you don’t make any egregious missteps during the phone screen, you are probably getting through! (Streamers! Party hats! Confetti!)

To the Dude Who Wrote this Letter on Salon (you might have to watch a brief ad to read):

You are right. And I am sorry. And I'm being completely sincere. We do kinda suck.

Why are you telling me this?

I know I'm flogging (blogging?) a dead horse here as this is at least my third post on this topic, but EVERY SINGLE TIME I see something like this, I'm 100% the same amount of incredulous and outraged. It's always like the first time.

From resume for A FINANCIAL ANALYST candidate:

"Professional caliber artist specializing in portraits and pencil sketches."

Why? Why is this on your resume when the jobs you are applying for have NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS? Why would I care? WHY ON EARTH WOULD I CARE?

What am I missing? I'm now cycling past incredulity/outrage to like, is it me? Am I the one who doesn't get it? I have forever claimed that I was absent one day in third grade and missed an all-school assembly that Explained It All and the reason why I am constantly befuddled by humanity is because I had a stomachache that day. That, or the fact that we were the only family without cable in my neighborhood doomed me to just never ever getting it.

But I don't get it.

Reader(s?...are there still at least two?), do you? Can someone please explain this to me? I try and try to imagine what on this planet could inspire me to think that some potential employer would be slightly swayed to hire me because I like to bicycle or make really tasty biscotti but I just can't. Can't imagine.

I'm glad Ginuwine wants to sex you up...

...but do I need to hear about it when I am calling for a job?

(If you follow this link and click on "Listen" for Track 2, you will hear what I am referencing. No actual bad words are used but would use caution if you are in a cubicle environment and/or hyper-sensitive to rico-sauve talk.)

(Aside: I'm also glad that Ginuwine is exploring some alternate income streams here, because really, what's he been up to?)

If you have something like this, one of those ringback tone things you kids are all about nowadays, might I suggest you disable the feature during your job search. Or use a different phone.

If you insist on using it, try to avoid a song with lyrics containing the word that just got Michael Richards in trouble or ones that refer to humans with ovaries as "bitches." Because you never really know what the person calling you for a gig might think of those words. Or, as in my case, there might be things equally or more offensive on her iPod, but she will hang up just because it's so effing stupid and unprofessional that she can't be bothered to talk to you.

The question marks are the best part.

This Sunday's New York Times had an article about "Child-Led Learning" which is apparently a form of home-schooling that allows kids to set the pace and pick what they want to learn about each day and follow their curiousity, etc.

I was immediately stricken with horror, imagining 50 years from now when I am in a nursing home being cared for by the generation raised this way. "I just don't FEEL like giving Ms. Ill-Suit her insulin right now."

Anyhoodle, the reason I am thinking of that is that I saw this on a resume, and sort of suspect maybe this person had her own fair share of "Child-Led Learning" as well:

"My current schedule for the rest of this year is this:
Sunday: 1:00 PM- ?
Monday: 11:30 AM- ?
Tuesday: 1:30 PM- ?
Wednesday: 11:30 AM- 6:30 PM
Thursday: 1:30 PM- ?
Friday: 11:30 AM- ?
Saturday: All day "


In the interest of full disclosure, I totally hate The Man and think we all should be wrestling back as much of our lives as possible from the Scourge that is Work. Nevertheless, come on now. This is not, sweetheart, how the world currently runs.

CORRECTION

It was NOT Tofurky Day, as I previously indicated below. It was To-Quorn Day or Quornkey Day or whatever. Actually not an un-tasty fake meat, although the facts from this Slate article I read months before were still sort of hazily floating around in my head as I ate it, making me feel slightly on edge throughout the dinner. Still on the fence about it.

Anyway, just wanted to be sure that all three Readers had a completely accurate understanding of what my Thanksgiving entailed. The cornbread pudding KILLED.

Don't say I never gave you anything, Reader.

In the spirit of the holiday or whatever, please follow below link if you would like a recipe for the most heavenly of cheesy-bready goodness in the form of Seattle restaurant guru Tom Douglas’s Etta’s Cornbread Pudding.

But be forewarned: just looking at the ingredient list will clog at least one (1) artery.

I will be making it for the Tofurky Day festivities tomorrow and while it’s not likely to be quite as transcendent as the stuff at the restaurant, I don't see how anything with that quantity of full-fat dairy products could possibly turn out bad.

(Also…not that I would know anything about this particular part of the country because I certainly wouldn’t be foolish enough to put any personal/distinguishing characteristics out here on this grounds-for-termination blog, but I have heard tell that if you are ever around Seattle way, you really cannot go too wrong with any of Tom Douglas’s places. The shrimpy thing at Lola’s? Nothing bad about that.)

While I do have to work on Black Friday, I will likely be both hungover and carbed-out-sluggish, so either no posts or if there are posts, I’m just going to apologize in advance now for their even more phoning-it-in than usual quality.

Sorry.

Everything I Need to Know that I Apparently Didn't Learn in Kindergarten...

...somebody with an MBA wants to try to teach me as an adult. From a meeting (of adults! in the workplace!) agenda about "Building Trust" for today:

"•Talk straight. Be honest and tell the truth.
•Demonstrate respect. Treat everyone with respect, especially those who can't do anything for you.
•Right wrongs. Apologize quickly. Don't let pride get in the way of doing the right thing.
•Show loyalty. Acknowledge others' contributions. Speak about others as if they were present.
•Practice accountability. Don't blame others when things go wrong.
•Wash your hands after going to the bathroom.
•Sharing is caring."

OK, two of those are fake.

I am so bummed that this isn't a face-to-face meeting, because if it were, I would totally start eating paste about twelve minutes in.

Also Too Good to Leave in Comment Trail: Totally Fortunate Name!

So I don't know if it's like way blog-dorky to keep pulling comments from the comments to make posts out of them, but so what if it is? You're not the boss of me!

Anyway, Deborah Ng, who has a really great free writing job posting blog/service for freelance writers (I should alert the candidate from the below post) left me the below comment (thanks, Deborah!) in response to an Unfortunate Name post:

"When I worked in retail there was a gentleman who used to come in on occasion to sell antiques. His name? 'Mighty Dreamstreet.' At first I thought it was a joke or street cred adding nickname such as Mr T or LL Cool J, but the gentleman informed me that it was, indeed, his name."

Like on the one hand, I have my usual why-on-earth-would-anyone-do-that? reaction. But then again...Mighty Dreamstreet. I would completely be a superhero by now if that were my name.

FYI: TMI

From a resume of a candidate looking for an accounting position:

"I wrote four novels, 13 short stories, and translated 2/3 of a classic story s youth version from Mandarin to English. (All unpublished for now.)"

So many levels...where to start?

1) You're applying for an accounting position. All this tells me is that you are possibly going to be even more miserable in that job than I am in mine.
2) Why only 2/3?
3) "All unpublished for now." Actually, that one speaks for itself.

Unfortunate Names: Special Eyebrow-Waxing Edition

This is actually not recruiting-related. (*Body sagging like a toddler in the grocery store*) I don't wanna write about recruiting this week. Seriously, sometimes the only way to get through doing your job is to sort of pretend for a week that you're actually NOT doing your job and to instead read all your journals from ten years ago and think: a) yeah, that one auburn-haired kid at college who read "Scientific American" WAS really unexpectedly hot and maybe I should google him and see what he's up to and b) I might be crazy but AT LEAST I'm no longer circa-1996-crazy.

So this episode of Unfortunate Names has nothing to do with recruiting UNLESS you are in charge of hiring at my local salon. In which case: I don't want anybody whose name is Patti - crucially - with an "i" waxing my eyebrows.

I don't want to have to explain it, I think some of you out there might know or at least sense what I am talking about...all I know is I got them waxed, I was displeased, then she handed me her card and AS SOON as I saw "Patti" with an i, I was like, "Damn, I wish I had known that before."

I am sure there are a couple Patti-with-an-i eyebrow-waxers who are like the Michael Jordan of waxing and maybe I'll be flamed for my extremely controversial post here, but I know what I know. And I know I will be finding another waxist.

And no, I'm not surprised to see you, I'm just going to look like this for another three weeks.

Can't be bothered.

Addendum!

I've now recovered my seat on my exercise ball and have a little bit more to say about the below post.

"No HIDDEN drinking/drugs"?

The addition of this word gives me a sudden vision of walking past this dude's cube - which is of course decorated with a) pictures of his wife, b) footballs and power tools and other outre signs of unapologetic vigorous male heterosexuality, c) an Opus plush toy and d) a toaster, and seeing him, sleeve rolled up, belt around his bicep with one end clenched in his teeth, cheerfully shooting up because, much like his 100% red-blooded love-of-the-ladies, a love so virile it must be included on a resume for employment, his drug use is something about which he's completely open.

Can...not...type...

I read this on a resume and fell off my exercise ball chair and am typing this with one hand from the floor:

"Not divorced, not gay, no hidden drinking/drugs. U.S. citizen. Taoist/ Buddhist readings. Favorite comics:Peanuts, Blondie, Bloom County. Favorite waffle: L Eggo My Eggo!. HTML. Enjoy surfing the Net (maybe too much!)"

From a RESUME.

WHO RAISED THESE PEOPLE?

I can't go on. That is too much for a Monday morning. The waffle-eating, "Bloom County"-reading, not divorced/not gay Taoist candidate might have pushed me over the edge. I'm going back to the weekend.

"It's my fondest dream..."

Doing a little Sunday evening prep work for the week (and about to watch "60 Minutes" and also preparing to be bummed about Ed Bradley whom I've been watching since I was a kid and who seemed like a really all right guy), and listening to some work messages.

One candidate called me back, saying she's excited to talk to me because "it's [her] fondest dream to work for Current Nameless Corporation."

(Key detail: not an ESL candidate. Not a quaint mistranslation. Native English speaker fully conscious of her word choice.)

Okay, I know I am the one on my laptop on the weekend and watching a CBS News Program like I'm a retiree or something instead of the frisky young lady that I am, but I am seriously depressed now about this lady's life if doing ANY kind of job at Current Nameless Corporation is her "fondest dream." Like, even if you DREAMED of being the CEO, wouldn't you just be dreaming of cashing out at some point so that you could go actually live your "fondest dream?"

Or maybe that is just me and maybe that is all part of why I am ill-suited. There are some good and interesting things that happen in this environment but I could not imagine dreaming about it.

(Damn, one minute into the Ed Bradley tribute I am already teary. )

The Wrong Answer

I recently had to do a lot of phone screens for an entry-level position. The screening process included one particular question that seemed to trip up most candidates.

The question was:

Tell me about a time you had to multi-task.

When I would ask the question exactly as it was written, invariably the answer would come back too general. Rather than provide an example, per the question, the candidate would usually just give a kind of stock answer about how they "always" do that or "did it all the time."

And honestly, I don't really care, but this particular hiring manager was a stickler for the specific answer. Wanted the concrete example. So then I would have to ask the question again, and try to get them to describe one particular situation.

So in order to save time, rather than asking the question, getting the wrong style of answer, and then asking it again, I started saying this right off the bat:

Please tell me about a time you had to multi-task. I realize this might be a skill you had to use nearly every day in your previous position, but that's not what we are looking for with this question. Rather than a general sense of your skill in that area or what you did every day, we're really looking for a specific situation related to multi-tasking, like one project or particular period in time.

And 3 out of 5 times, the candidate's response to this was:

"Oh, that's something I had to do EVERYDAY."

They gave me the answer I JUST TOLD THEM was the wrong answer.

Look, despite this whole blog, I AM ON YOUR SIDE. I don't like to be rejected and I don't want to reject you. You want a job and I want to help you get a job. Work gives a person purpose, dignity...at least for the first week until you realize how small your paycheck is and it's going to be six months till you get benefits and can get that tooth fixed and the department head is a mouthbreather and the whole damn system starts to eat at your soul.

But I want you to have that first good week! I want to pass your resume onto the hiring manager!

So please: work with me. If words are coming out of my mouth, make your best effort to listen to ALL of them.

Ladies' Mid-Morning!

When I was but a wee lass, there was a group in my high school called the "Society of Women Scholars." It was a group for the ladies.

Although I was both a) a lady and b) kinda brainy, I refused to join because it was an exclusionary group.

(The second reason I refused to join was because the aconym was "SOWS." Seriously. WHO PICKS A NAME for a WOMEN'S group with THAT as the acronym? And, although I look back now and think I was probably pretty durn cute and should have been running around in halter tops quite a bit more than I did, at the time I felt the usual young-lady insecurity about...well, everything. So I think I also just did not want to be associating with something with a name like SOWS, like to give myself a fighting chance.)

I didn't - and don't - like exlcusionary groups NOT because I am so open-minded and open-hearted that I just love everyone and everything the same. (As we established, I don't actually have a heart, just a shrivelled little nub of an organ that keeps the venom circulating regular.)

Rather I cannot stand everyone and everything about the same, and so I don't like exclusionary groups because I think you are all a bunch of shaved monkeys (when I say you, I mean THEM, not YOU, Reader[s], I mean the Other People, the ones who don't read this) so why bother dividing you up into classes and colors and genders of shaved monkeys and making distinctions about it. Most of the time I'm too busy being racked with despair that I am trapped here with the lot of you all (Other People) on this, the only planet we know of that I can survive on.

But, occasionally, despite this, sometimes I cannot help but notice that certain kinds of shaved monkeys aggravate me in particular ways. Again, ultimately, the quantity of aggravation is about equal, it's more like...like Style Points.

So, with that preamble out of the way, today, Ladies, let's discuss some Style Points you've been accumulating. The following is directed at you because I keep hearing something similar from quite a few of you every week, whereas I cannot think of a single instance of a guy doing this. And I talk - literally - to hundreds of people every month so screw it, I'm going to make a distinction.

First of all, let me say I know first hand the conditioning we go through to be cooperative rather than competitive, to always be inclusive and considerate, and all that other stuff. And, actually, that is all good stuff.

But that said, when I ask you "What are your current job duties?" your answer should NOT nearly exclusively contain the pronoun "we" unless you are, in fact, applying for a job with your conjoined twin.

You might be working as part of a team. You might feel like giving credit where credit is due. It might feel weird to toot your own horn. But guess what? Your team is not going to get you this job. Your modesty is not going to get you this job.

The purpose of an interview is for you to draw for me, the interviewer, clear connections between what YOU have done and how that will fit in with a new position. And if you kept telling me how "we did this" and "we did that," I'm going to wonder what the heck YOU were doing at that previous job besides trailing along behind all those other folks.

So, ladies, say it with me now: I. I. I. I.

If you did it, you can take credit for it. So say it.

Actual Unfortunate Names - Too Good to Leave in Comment Trail

A million thanks to Lisa the Mad Tatter for alerting me to what is really one of the most questionable and unfortunate names I have encountered. From her comment:

You think "Lucifer" and "Little" are bad? I know of a young man (7 years old) by the name of Handsomestranger. Yes. Handsomestranger. It begs the question: Was he named for his father?

That is FANTASTIC. Merry Early Xmas Everyone!

From the ashes!

My will to nitpick basic spelling/grammatical errors on resumes has been nearly destroyed by the realization that its existence is utterly pointless and anachronistic in today's world...

But every once in a while, it's stirred to life, like the phantom pain of an amputated limb. And today it wants to say:

Is it too much to ask that, if you make $140,000 a year BASE SALARY, working at a job that can be done whilst SEATED and in an climate-controlled building, you know the difference between "your" and "you're"?

Is it, sir? Is it really so beyond the pale to expect that?

And now (to mix imagery) my will to nitpick has exhausted its frail constitution. It's slithering back into its hole. (Please feel free to refer back to the prior sentence for correct usage of "its" vs "it's." Like anybody cares.)

That sound you heard, Candidate...

...was the phone falling from my hand in stunned disbelief when you said the following sentence to me (emphasis, this time, not really added, just transcribed):

"Yeah, right now, I'm really working a solid forty hours a week."

Now, please excuse me for a moment, Candidate, while I turn to Reader(s) and explain this to them.

Was this person emphasizing the amazing work-life balance available in their current position?

Or was this a person in a part-time position explaining why she figured she might as well move to a full-time role?

No, Reader(s), and no.

This was a person COMPLAINING. To ME. The person interviewing them for a FULL-TIME job.

I mean, look, you can see the time I'm posting this, I'm no innocent, I know we don't always work a "solid forty hours a week."

Nevertheless, do we complain about it when we have to? You know, complain about working the number of hours generally considered to be a normal workweek? In a job interview? What is she, from FRANCE or something?

P.S. She wasn't. And not slagging off on the French, just sayin' I'd understand the statement if she had been.

I'm sorry to have been unclear, Rain Man.

Okay, so let's say your current and previous position titles were some variation on Florn-Jumper. You've been an Assistant Florn-Jumper, Junior Florn-Jumper, and now risen in the ranks to become a Senior Florn-Jumper.

But in your heart, you know what you were really put on this earth to do is Queeg Analysis. Any time a project came up in your Florn-Jumping world that involved Queeg Analysis, you rose your sweaty little hand and said, "Me! Me, Boss, I can do that special Queeg Analysis project!"

And finally you are ready to get out of the Florn-Jumping business (much like pole-dancing, it's hard on the body) and try to get into Queeg Analysis full-time. So you apply to my current Queeg Analyst I position posting.

Now, I am hard up for candidates. So although I only see one lone bullet point on your resume about a special project involving Queeg Analysis and everything else seems a little off, I decide to give you a shot.

I talk to you about my Queeg Analyst position, and I like you. You seem like a bright lad. So I say, okay, although Queeg Analysis has not been your primary job duty, I believe you could do it, so I am going to send your resume to the hiring manager.

However, the hiring manager is going to need to be convinced. So I ask you to send me a new resume, highlighting your experience in Queeg Analysis.

What I meant was:

REWRITE your resume to expand on your experience in the area of Queeg Analysis. Although this might have just been a part of a project or two that you worked on in addition to your daily Florn-Jumping duties, flesh out your involvement to show you are not a complete Queeg Analysis novice.

What I DID NOT mean was:

Send me the EXACT SAME RESUME you already provided, but with the bullet point about Queeg Analysis highlighted. Literally. With the yellow highlighter function in MS Word.

I realize this is my own fault. I am talking to to some serious calculator-heads and as my friend who is married to one of them has pointed out, they can be like computers. You have to actually program each step or else they will...well, send you a resume with a bullet point highlighted.

So my apologies, Raymond. I will be more precise moving forward.

P.S. I'm already irritated with my own intra-blog slang, so if you also found it a bit twee and aggravating, I am working on it. I do need to be vague but there must be a better way.

Breaking: It's not a conference call if there are only two people involved.

Then it is called a "phone call."

So please stop referring to it otherwise.