Translation: "I Have a Regrettable Male Ponytail."

From resume headline:

"Business Man w/Artistic Flair"

"21 year old female looking for respectable full-time work"

And she also wants you to know:

"I have much respect for myself so please do not send any response about scams, "dancing" or anything of that nature. "

That's great, young lady, but then why do I even need to know you are a young lady at all? And especially not in your resume header. The job search isn't a chat room. You can leave the A/S off of A/S/L.

Um, ow?

How come once a month when I come to my own blog it looks like the Cyrillic alphabet vomited onto the screen?

Well, if we can see this now it means it's fixed, I guess.

Recruiter, Heal Thyself Some More

Received an e-mail today from a recruiting company much like my very own. My resume is kind of confidentially lolly-gagging out on some job boards, just to see what else might be out there.

So it is the sort of usual e-mail that I send out to candidates, but unlike the ones I send out to candidates, this recruiter doesn't bother to hide his/her contempt for her audience:

"1. Click the link in this sentence to send your resume in Microsoft Word (.doc not .rtf) format (attach it, do not copy and paste into the email) with all contact info to IThinkAllCandidatesAreIdiotsWhoMustBeSpokenToLikeSixYearOlds- AlsoTheWord"Please"IsForPussies@NamelessRecruitingCompany.com.

2. Copy and paste the title and reference number into the subject box.
Then type your current salary and minimum salary requirement next to the reference number.
Do not send a range.
Must be an exact number. Please [oops, okay, there was a "please" in there, but still.] send the very minimum that you will accept "down to the penny." This is how the subject must look, see example below:Sr. Recruiter current: $ "current pay"/hr, minimum: $ "minimum accepted pay"/hr
3. On your resume, give the best time and telephone number to reach you."

I know I always feel like I am being recruited for a company that values me as an individual and not just as a widget when I have to put my salary requirements "down to the penny" in the SUBJECT HEADER of the e-mail.

Jesus Christ I know we DON'T care about people but lord can't we pretend that we'll at least read an e-mail response instead of making it clear that we'll just delete it unopened if it's a penny over what we can pay?

TACKY.

Extraneous Capitalizer Is Back!

She's posted again and she is ready to get all highly specific on your ass:

"English Speaking Receptionist With A Voice Like An Angel

English Speaking Receptionist With A Beautiful
Phone Voice Willing To Work Hard For The Money.
I Will List What My Strenths And Weaknesses
Are So You Do Not Waste Your Time.
Please Do Not Email Unless I Meet Your Criteria
And You Meet My Criteria.

Strengths:
Great Phone Voice.
Strong Work Ethics.
No Drama Brought To The Office.
Cellphone Is Left In My Car.
Sack Lunch Brought To Work.
Organized.
Ability To Multi-Task And Finish Duties
In Order Of Priority.
Outgoing Personality.
Reliable.
Efficient.
Fast On The Phones.
Always Pleasant To Clients Even If
They Are Difficult To Deal With.
Great "Can Do" Attitude.
Give 110% At Work.
No Children.
In General A Superstar Type
Of Attitude.
Mature, Engergy Of A Young
Girl, Years In The Workforce,
Traveled First Class All Over
The World.
(These Are Equivalent To A
College Degree,Beleive Me) [Ed Note: Except for the college-teaching-you-how-to-spell-"believe" part]

I Have Qualities That Cannot
Be Trained Or Learned On A
Computer Software.

Weaknesses:
I Do Not Type Very Fast.
I Am Not Young.
I Am Not Sexy Looking.
I Am Not A Bookeeper.
I Will Not Pay For Parking.
I Will Not Accept Any Position
At A Mortgage Company.
Real Estate Development Fine.
I Will Only Accept 40 Hours Per Week."

This is all unfortunate because I am actually looking for a Sexy Single Mom Bookkeeper Who Goes Out To Lunch, Argues With Her Boyfriend On Her Cell During Business Hours And Has The Voice Of Suzanne Pleshette To Work Overtime At My Mortgage Company With Street (Metered) Parking.

Willing to Start (and Stay) on the Ground Floor

From resume:

"I really prefer to work on the bottom floors, as I don't ride elevators."

Expert At Extraneous Capitalizing Of All Words And Prose Written In Form Of Poetry

From seeking-work posting, formatting intact.

"Front Office Receptionist Looking For
A Position Answering Phones As Well
As Performing Other Administrative
Tasks To Keep Busy.
Looking For The Right Company Who
Will Not Discriminate Because I Am
Not Skinny Or Twenty Two Years Old.
Hard Worker,No Nonsense Woman Who
Needs A Job, Ready To Settle Down
Into A Basic Job.
Have Lived Life In The Fast Lane
Already! Want A Job That Is Not
High Powered Or Full Of Stress."

Twofer

The same resume from the below post also yielded this coherent gem, helpfully rendered in screaming all caps. The Crazies sure love them their Caps Lock key:

"KNOWING THAT ASSET POTENTIAL INCLUDES FAR MORE - THAN EVEN THE MOST EXEMPLARY SKILL SETS - AND BECAUSE I HAVE NOT ALTERED MY RESUME TO ACCENT - WHY WE MIGHT BE A GOOD MATCH - I OVERVIEW SPECIFICS WHICH MAY BE IMPORTANT - IN PRELIMINARY EVALUATIONS OF MY CONTRIBUTING FACTOR."

Thank you, but no.

From resume:

"All interested (qualified) Decision Makers - please dial my dedicated voicemail box. Hear my voice and feel my High Vibration."

Vernal Equinox Has Sprang, Part Trois

I just got a digital camera (I have been a film snob, then indifferent, then broke, hence my late adopting when I am usually a total tech geek.)

You know what that means, right?


SUPERFLUOUS HOMEGROWN CUTENESS, SUCKAS!

(PS: Confidential to Rube: Merci Beaucoup!)

Please feel free to insert your own reaction.

Because I am not sure where to start with this one.

From resume. Yes, RESUME:

"Interests: I am interested in the creation of Ethanol and the boom that it will have on the economy. I originally wanted to get a Patton on what is now called EthanolI thought of it way before Ethanol ever came out but was to young to know how to manufacture parts to adapt cars to run off it, but I am still willing to invest in it. "

The boom? A Patton?

Oh, and PS, no this person's experience/desired job have nothing to do with alternative energy. But regular Readers probably guessed this already.

Candidate: Do not use your mother as a reference on your resume.

That is all.

No wait, I have an addendum.

Do not use your mother as a reference on your resume BUT ESPECIALLY not if she is the only reference you have.

(No, Reader, I'm not kidding. Saw this today. The resume was NOT from a six-year old nor from a developmentally-disabled person. At least not an officially-labeled developmentally-disabled person. I suppose you could assume that the diagnosis might be forthcoming.)

You know it's Friday the 13th...

...when your Gay Husband calls you and cheerfully announces that one of the engines on the plane he was on this morning EXPLODED.

!
!
!

The Gay Husband has a bizarre (to me) and deep love and appreciation for aviation, has worked for airlines, made me take him on a airplane-related tourist activity on his last visit...so his response to all this was measured calm and mild curiosity.

My response, on the other hand, even though as he was on the phone telling me this so clearly he was safe, was to nearly pass out then nearly start to cry.

I don't like planes. I don't like flying. The planes are so BIG and HEAVY. I don't believe in the physics that keep them aloft. I just can't believe it! You can explain it to me a hundred times, I still react like some superstitious dark ages ignoramus who thinks it's all DEVIL MAGIC.

I went through a weird period post-9/11 where I was seriously COMPLETELY terrified to fly. Not, mind you, because of terrorists. I think my brain had some kind of meltdown, though, after seeing the planes fly into the buildings over and over again. It's like we have an understanding of what planes can and cannot do, and to see that totally broke down my subconscious understanding of What Planes Do. Like because my brain couldn't process the horror of what had happened, it just stopped...almost like believing in flight at all. It is obviously a totally irrational thing to think - but I guess being irrational is sometimes how your brain handles things it finds too horrible to process rationally.

Anyway, with time that all faded and I can now get on a plane and not feel gripped with utter terror.

Nevertheless. THE ENGINE EXPLODED. Gay Husband wants to research the nitty gritty of what happens during such accidents. I want to crawl under my bed and cling to the ground.

This Post Has Been Outsourced: Other Workplace Laffs

This is a dead blog, but it is worth a read, from the start through the completion (it doesn't take that long). Because we ALL have been there.

But before I go...

...the Public had this to say today.

From candidate's resume headline:

"Just greaduated"

This wasn't Myspace. This was Monster.

And this wasn't a typo inserted in the midst of a big block of text.

These are the only two words in the headline. Ergo, this person only had two words to scan to proof this and think..."Hmm. Fifty percent of the first thing I am showing to a prospective employer looks somehow...off."

I have, on occasion, physically harmed innocent hardware due to frustration with Microsoft software. Nevertheless, I can see that Bill Gates is a smart dude.

And so the fact that Bill Gates is concerned enough about appear before Congress to speak about how he is, essentially, kinda scared shitless about the state of American education might be enough to make me sit up and take notice. However, I don't actually need that because the crumbling American education system seems to make a little appearance on my desktop at least every other day.

And the heavens opened up...

Okay, I KNOW I am constantly saying that the blog is on the verge of running out of steam and devolving into being solely shoe criticism.

BUT

This time I might mean it.

I might be getting out of direct candidate contact and moving into being safely ensconced in the bubble wrap of managing a process as opposed to actually carrying out a process. You know: becoming one of those people mercifully ignorant of what it's actually like on the ground. One of those people for whom I currently feel nothing but contempt and resentment. I can't wait to be just like them!!!

I might still have to talk to candidates on occasion but the constant, daily state of being bludgeoned about the head and neck with the heavy blunt instrument that is the Public might be coming to an end. Smell ya later, Public!

I have a few anecdotes stored up so I might be posting those over the next few weeks, but I am really thinking this might be it.

Off-Topic: I don't want to do this to you, Reader...

...but I have to.

Back whenever "The Twilight Zone" TV series came back in the 80's or 90's or...wait a minute, this is the internet, I don't need to wonder, I can research. Hold, please.

.
.
.
Okay, it was the FIRST revival of "The Twilight Zone" which took place from 1985-1989, there was one episode I saw that has stuck with me to this day. Actually, there are two, but only one is relevant to this blog post.

This one was about someone figuring out the meaning of life, but it drove them crazy, and every person they told it made THEM crazy and so on and so forth. At least I think that's what it was. I could probably research that on the internet, but I am a busy lady.

Anyway, I think I have the blog post containing the YouTube clip that might be the internet equivalent of this. I saw it a few days ago on the blog 99sense (which, by the by, brilliantly showcases the stuff you find at discount stores, which I am all about).

Kangsta, the author, leads into the clip by saying, about the woman in the clip, "This chick owns me." I read that and was all, "Whatever, Internet Hyperbole!"

I watched it, and thought, "Well, okay. That is kinda special."

But now days later and I cannot get this clip out of my head. Not just in a song-stuck-in-my-head-way but...

This

chick

owns

ME.

Cue field of stars with floating window frame.

Anyway, it's at the very bottom of this post. You COULD just scroll down, but what's your hurry? Read the whole thing - it's all pretty damn funny.

The Ill-Suit Road Show

I had to travel for business this week. It was not horrible. This surprised me.

I have been fortunate enough to not have to travel for biz in over 2.5 years. The main thing that has changed: Bluetooth.

I also had the opportunity to see, wandering around its natural environment (i.e., a business travel hotel), a certain organism that I don't encounter into often in the circles I run with: The Corporate Guy Who Is Clinging to His Edginess.

• He's wearing Dockers but has an awkwardly-large gold hoop earring.
• He leaves the complimentary hotel breakfast early to go outside and smoke a cigarette with the sucked-in-cheek eye-squinty drag of someone who still looks at their reflection while smoking and practices looking cool.
• His sunglasses say: "I'm trying really hard."
  

I find these dudes fascinating. I want to make a reality show about them. I want to know who they thought they were going to be when they were younger. Who is this person all these little signifiers are pointing to? What is this identity they are not yet willing to let go of? Ill-suited minds are dying to know!

Also from this trip: somebody was having a VERY...um...rambunctious and vocal great time in a random Silicon Valley hotel at 8:00 AM on a Monday morning. Those of us blearily trudging our way down the hotel hall heading to all-day conferences were glad that somebody was having fun.


Speaking of fun, I guess my hotel was trying out some new features as I was apparently staying in an entire Magic Fingers ROOM. The WHOLE THING randomly vibrated. Like things would jiggle across the desk. I was too exhausted at the idea of packing up my crap so I didn't complain, but Hotel: what the heck?

And that was about it. I was expecting to have all sorts of laffs from the trip, but this client - despite all of The Crazies I tell you about - actually seems to be populated by smart, not crazy, likable people. It was, quite frankly, a little disconcerting. Possibly my and my counterparts' roles as Gatekeepers keeping out all the crazies DO actually do something more than drive us to despair and refined carbs? I honestly hadn't considered that possibility.