Tuesday, March 31, 2009

We’re On A Break

Sorry slaw fans but I’ve checked myself out of the loop to enjoy a bit of Spring Break therefore you will have to go without a full blog for another week. But don’t fret dear ones cause hilarity will ensue again, for NEXT MONDAY I begin a whole new adventure as Upper East Side Personal Assistant (UESPS)!!

Here is a tid bit of an update to keep the momentum humming:

- My temp job did me a solid by releasing me from administrative servitude at the end of last week. My supervisor at Porn Haven acted humanly and swiftly on my behalf by replacing me with a 23 year old bight eyed temp who will gladly work for a pittance and is jazzed to be a member of the workforce. Oh and extra bonus, the temp is NOT from Hydra…. looks like someone won’t get cash from my ass this week and WON’T get a fee from my replacement either.

- By Thursday morning with the aide of sunny weather and the knowledge that my shackles of temporary employment were about to disintegrate my sullenness over Scooter abandoning me (I mean moving) melted away thereby returning the spring to my step. However the glow of contentment was short lived for that evening MAC Daddy sprang the news that he is probably moving to Salt Lake City. Really? How about people just stay put! Hey Galleta….any plans? Just asking.

- I am spending my Spring Break in the Hamptons with my septuagenarian mother however after several hours of funneling Baileys it’s been a trial to keep her from entering the local wet T shirt contests. Oh mom.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

First of Many

At some point I WILL stop writing about it, but for now blog fans I am totally consumed with the sadness in my heart, sorry. Today is the first day without Scooter inhabiting my time zone and even the most casual of acquaintances can ascertain by my glum countenance, I am not my usual G. We did get to spend tons of time together over the past few days, albeit packing and loading a Uhaul (that was a tad too tiny), but there was time for foolishness, falderal, the study of english vocabulary (prosy), White Castle hamburgers and a chocolate shake (yummm). Scooter promised that our friendship will never change and after a week’s worth of prodding and rehearsal he voluntarily muttered the words, “I’ll miss you when I’m gone” without a bit of irony or facetiousness (or so I convinced myself). The next few days will be a trial but I’ll bounce back, especially if I stay clear of the 167 tracks on my ipod that remind me of our past and if I take Scooter’s advise and pretend that he is merely on an extended “Bus and Truck” national tour.

My glee over the new FT job quickly dissolved into despair and defeat when my temp placement firm (HYDRA) demanded that I remain for two additional weeks in my temp position as a sign of good faith. WTF!!?? It’s a temp job. The good faith is that I have shown up here for the past month, worked the job of 10 temps, didn’t listen to my ipod, texted or hung out on Facebook like the other 20 something temps, all the while making LESS money than I would have if I went on unemployment (or the SAME amount I made during the summer of 1991 working at Adventureland). So unfortunately since I can’t get myself fired from this place (like 3 other temps did in the past week) I will not have any down time between temp and full time – it’s been 1.5 years without a vacation so it would have been nice to get a few days…ughhhh. Yes in the big picture of life this really doesn’t matter and I am soooo happy to have a FT job in this floundering economy but it would have been pleasant if my old co-workers (money grubbing drones that they are) could have acted like human beings and let me just finish out the week then have a few days to decompress before ramping up into my new FT gig. I am now regretting the dessert basket I sent them yesterday….arghhhhh.

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Highs and Lows

I did it; I got the Personal Assistant job and believe me I have no doubt that the pearls played a major role in securing the position. I am so excited and relieved to be employed once again and in a position that I feel will be a doorway to a new life long career – or maybe not, who the heck knows. All I know is that I almost collapsed on the conference room floor and burst into tears of joy when I was offered the position at the conclusion of my final interview. In retrospect I’m glad I retained my composure cause it would be really hard to return a tear stained business suit back to Lord and Taylor (hey I only wore it for like 2 hours…let’s call it a rental).

After receiving the grand news I spent the remainder of my day celebrating with Scooter in Upstate Manhattan. Yesterday was our “last G & S lovefest”, a day though supposedly reserved for packing was high jacked by the 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T, eating take out, drinking beer and singing and dancing around the apartment to our favorite music. Of course I got weepy; my sappy meter is so off the charts. However once Scooter realized that our musical trip down memory lane was leading me down the path into emotional oblivion he swiftly disengaged the offending track thereby denying me the pleasure a big ol’ heaving cry….ehhh it will come, I am sure.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Buttoned Up Tight

Not all is lost; the Personal Assistant gig is still in the pipe line, who knew? Last Friday I received a call from my recruiter informing me that my presence is required for ROUND THREE of interviews however they would like me to be more “polished”. In the recruiting world the word polished is used to avoid the ever lingering threat of a lawsuit brought on by illegal hiring practices based on candidates’ looks and perceived socio economical level. The label of “Polished” is usually allocated to candidates who are attractive, conservatively dressed, sport perfectly coifed shiny hair, employ non “regional” vocal patterns, oh and of course own a strand of pearls. Really…really? Well my competition though rather dull is “polished” so the client is battling her internal struggle…me = charming and funky, competition= stuffy and polished…which should she choose?

This Sunday following my recruiter's advise to “wear a tailored business suit “, I popped onto the Q32 for a leisurely ride to Bloomingdales, Saks 5th Ave., Lord and Taylor and if all else failed, final destination Macy’s. I am a shopper, I love shopping, I may actually shop a wee bit too much, but buying a business suit was so far out of my predefined constructs of ‘shopping’ that I found myself at a total loss. Bloomingdale’s was a bust, I bought a gray Calvin Klein dress with a cropped jacket that resembled something from the “People’s Army”, Saks had 2 suits to choose from (one black one blue) with rectangular jackets and skirts that hit below my calf …nice look. Lord and Taylor had a ton of suits but none of them were “me”. I felt like one of those ladies on What Not To Wear who break down and cry in the stores because they do not know what is “right”. I looked, I circled, I picked up things then returned them to the rack…I was totally lost. It took all I had NOT to pull out my credit card and scoop up the candy colored new spring arrivals but I knew better and persevered while holding firmly to the belief that it is much easier for me to don preppy attire than for my competition to generate an entire new personality. So with the attentive help of my dressing room attendant, Marcy, I exited with an awful brownish, blackish, grayish tweed suit with a cream shell. Ughhhh. Could feel less me?

At the completion of this arduous task I paused briefly at the fine jewelry counter to slip on my gloves and tie my scarf in a jaunty knot however a giant red sign drew my attention, All Pearls 80% Off. Wholly cow, it was a sign…well yes it was actually a physical sign stating the sale but it was also a metaphysical SIGN. Something was begging me to buy the pearls, whispering softly in my ear, “If You Buy Them, Jobs Will Come”. So even though I am on a strict PB&J budget I plunked down my L & T card and scooped up my first real strand of pearls. Upper East Side here I come…fingers crossed that I can pull this one off.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009


My temp job company supplies VOD (that is industry talk for Video On Demand) and of course a large percentage of their revenue is due to the sale of soft core porn. If one was to take a casual walk through the maze of cubicles there would be a pretty good chance you’d discover a number of monitors awash with huge bouncing boobs. Well today I met the sweet young thing whose job it is to watch said video to confirm its digital transfer; yes her job is to watch porn.
We spoke briefly about how the poor economy has driven the need to upload a huge amount of new porn titles. With the sudden influx of laid off persons stuck at home with time on their hands this poor girl has been working overtime to satisfy the needs of the down trodden. Interestingly she informed me that last Spring when the federal stimulus checks began to arrive the demand for porn increased 400% - wtf? Really people? Well I guess it was apropos, I mean it was a “stimulus” check (lame….I know). She also shared with me that at a recent scheduling meeting the company announced their decision to up the ummm…’intimacy’ factor to satisfy their loyal customers’ demands and that she should not be shocked by the updated…. Umm…’story lines’.

Lastly I would like to share with you two film titles I came across this week that made me pause, Over-Sexed Rugsuckers From Mars and Blind Date: Vampire Car Wash. The second title however I believe was created by utilizing those “magnetic poetry” words. Somebody just tossed 5 nouns up onto the refrigerator door and was all, “Yep that sounds good, shoot it, print it, done.”

9 to 5

I’m still on tenterhooks regarding the office manager job. I know it has only been two days and they are seeing more people but I hate the waiting. I am confident that if I don’t get the gig it was not meant to be and that is totally hunky dorey, no love lost. However if I am not going to be the best office manager on the East Side of the Garment District I need to get other stuff moving and grooving like signing up for COBRA, renegotiating my temp fee, and hitting the pavement hard for a full time job. Oh and on other non employment news I still haven’t heard anything from my two recruiters about the PA job so I am assuming it was a no go. Oh well.

Temp Gig:
It gets wackier each day. I am now thinking that this would NOT be a good place to stay. Besides the work being bizarrro the actual operations of this place are just odd – but it’s funny cause nobody seems to care. In the past week I have been very confused and disappointed by the staff kitchen. First I discovered that not only do they not supply cups (as stated in a previous blog) but there are NO supplies in the kitchen, no utensils, plates, napkins, no nothing. Well except for two full pots of coffee that sit untouched, for obvious reasons. Also I had the unfortunate experience of storing my lunch in one of the refrigerators only to discover a few hours later my sandwich and baggie of baby carrots were incased within ¾ inch of permafrost. However when visiting the freezer a few days later to procure a cube or two of ice for my homemade ice coffee I was faced with a freezer packed to the gills with 10 years worth of forgotten frozen food items yet not an cube to be found. I did of course ask a dude in the vicinity if there was any ice in the office and I was met with a head shake and a look that read, “Damn, ice? Who does this temp think she is?”

In closing I would like to add that I feel as a temp I have adopted a few practices that appear to be pervasive throughout my assignments and even though it has been several months since I performed as a temp I surprisingly picked up right where I had left off. Yep I have once again stormed into a bathroom stall with a broken lock thereby trapping a full time employee behind the swinging door with her pants around her knees. Oh and a few days later I mistakenly walked confidently straight into the men’s room and was greeted by a line of guys looking at me over their shoulders …I think you know what I mean.

Saturday, March 7, 2009

Saying Goodbye

I’ve put off writing about this because I felt the need to separate myself from the inevitable. But now with only 2 weeks remaining I thought I might as well bite the bullet and post yet another bare bones internal glimpse at my psyche. It is bizarre the amount of emotional upheaval I’ve experienced in the short time I’ve been blogging, or maybe my life has always been like this but I’ve never stopped to record the episodes and reflect. But now it is all here in print, posted in public view for all to read.

As many of you already know Scooter has landed a fantastic new job and is currently boxing up his life here in New York in exchange for a new one in Seattle. It is so hard to assign words to my feelings about this process so that I won’t sound obsessive, jealous, desperate and just basically crazy. My brain knows that I will be fine and we will always be best friends but as with most things my brain does not win any battles against my heart.

Scooter and I have been together for 18 years, not counting our 4 year “great separation”, and he may be the only person on this planet who truly knows everything about me and still loves me for it. We have a bond like family and he has always been my brother and my superhero. He’s seen me at my most vulnerable and knew just what to say (and not), he’s been the calming voice on the other end of a call when creatures have entered my apartment, he’s gone to battle for me when I’ve been wronged, and he’s been my cheerleader when I’ve felt useless. We do fight, lord do we fight, but no matter how frustrated I get Scooter has always been the one to bring us back together.

So now with my work life precariously on edge my emotional status is buffering another blow by my best friend leaving town, for good. Scooter and his wife have always spoken about moving to Seattle (she lived there prior to their engagement) and they both have wanted to make a real home in the Pacific North West, and I’m sure they will. However the next two weeks are gonna be just plan awful since I KNOW that Scooter has a ton of stuff to do and a ton of people he wants to see before he leaves town but….. ughhhh here I go getting way to close to “crazy”….

So much to blog about so little time

I finally have a ton of stuff to share with all of you however I have no time to post anything, arggggh. So I have broken it out into a couple of posts. Ok let’s get started – go. The PA Interview:
It’s really hard interviewing in NYC in the middle of the winter while you are temping. My temp job is very tee shirts and jeans but my PA interview was gonna be very buttoned up so on Friday morning I pressed all my interview clothes, packed a bag with stockings, heals, foundation garments, makeup, hair products, etc… and set off to work. Oh and I knew I had to pack all my gear it in a way that would not look as if I was entering my posh PA interview with a duffel bag full of casual work clothes. So I got that all together and at exactly 5 pm I raced into the bathroom to change from downtown funky temp girl to Upper East Side preppy business lady. I knew I would have plenty of time for hair and makeup once uptown (I gave myself 1.5 hours) so I only changed my clothes and thought I would complete the transformation along my long subway ride. Well it turns out that it is very hard to do your hair and makeup on a speeding train when you have forgotten your mirror on your DESK! Yep there I was on the subway trying to apply eyeliner while pressed up against the window of the train door squinting to find my reflection. It was like trying to find the 3D dolphins in those wacky mall posters from the mid 90’s. So OK.. Exhale, relax. I’ll just get off the train 2 stops earlier and visit my old alma matter’s 2nd floor bathroom and all will be fine. RIGHT, not so much. PING! Ladies and Gentleman this train is being held because of a police investigation at 86th Street – WTF!!?? Well there went that idea. Now I’m stuck on a train with the clock running out, tick…tick…tick. We resumed forward motion in about 12 minutes but now it was way too late to make a pit stop at CUNY so I decided to just go up to the interview location, sit in a very shinny Starbucks, and hopefully catch my reflection in something.
Got out of the subway at 79th street and walked directly into a freezing monsoon…great. My hair was flying around, my feet were soaked and guess what, there are NO Starbucks on Madison Ave. from 76th Street to 81st Street. So with 20 minutes to kill I found a sidewalk bench situated under a dripping awning and in the darkness of the street I could just make out the reflected outline of my face in the plastic cover of my Blackberry. So there I sat in the freezing rain TRYING to pull it together and de-stress.
The interview went very well and I even returned this week for a second round. Unfortunately I do not have high hopes for the position for as much as the lady really likes me she feels that the job would be WAY too lame for my effervescent persona. Damn me and my charm. I should really try to practice shy and boring if I wanna land a job anytime soon.

FYI - Do not Travel From Woodside to West Hempstead

Last week I was surprised to discover that Q was up from NC and staying with her Mom for the month. So when she called to invite me out for a visit I leapt at the chance for some good eats and an old fashioned girlie sleepover.
Q instructed me to meet her late Saturday afternoon at her family’s Deli in West Hempstead and since the train stopped directly in front of their door it would be an easy peasy trip on the ol’ LIRR. Saturday came , I packed my overnight bag with PJ’s and some dirty laundry (even at 38 I still live like a college kid)and I headed off to the Woodside LIRR station for my 40 min ride to West Hempstead (or so I thought). From Woodside my first stop was Jamaica and when we arrived there were 3 trains already waiting to take on their transfers. I spotted the Hempstead train 2 platforms away but as I turned to climb the stairs of the overpass the loud speaker announced “Last Call For The Train To Hempstead” – CRAP! I ran across the overpass then down the other side, leapt into the awaiting train and popped down into a seat as the conductor rattled off the list of stops. Hmmmm I don’t think he said West Hempstead? I asked the other east bound travelers if the train stopped in West Hempstead, they looked at me with wide eyes and yelled out “NO!”. “Ding – Stand Clear of the closing Doors Please”. Yikes! I grabbed my bag and flew through the closing train doors. Turns out from Jamaica you take the Long Beach train to Valley Stream then take the West Hempstead train to …. West Hempstead. So I waited the 20 minutes for the LB train then another 15 minutes in Valley Stream and finally I arrived at West Hempstead.
After exiting the train it all looked odd to me. I hadn’t been to the Deli in about 10 years but NOTHING looked familiar. I walked a few yards to the next large intersection and I was totally confused (and freezing cold). Ok no big deal I’ll just call Q and have her point me in the right direction.
G: Hi Q I just got off the train, which way do I walk?
Q: What? You are here now? I don’t see the train.
G: Yeah I just got off the train in the front. I am standing next to a really seedy hotel and some gas stations.
Q: Where are you?
G: (Louder and slower) I just got off the train in West Hempstead and I’m on the corner of Hempstead Ave.

Q: Hold on. (faintly I hear her ask, “Is this station West Hempstead? What? Oh it’s not? What is the station right here? Oh it is? Oh.) Um G yeah you should have gone to Lake View not West Hempstead. I know I said West Hempstead but I meant that’s where the Deli is. Do you know where Lake View is?
G: Yeah Q (now rather annoyed, her family has owned this Deli for like 35 years) Lake View is two stops back I’m at the LAST stop in West Hempstead.
Q: Um Ok just stay there and I can leave in about 45 min. to get you.
G: WHAT?? I am not standing out here for almost an hour, you’re kidding right?
After a quick exchange of words Q decided that she better pick me up ASAP. I in turn headed to the closest gas station and convinced the attendant that it would be totally OK for me to hang out in the shop. There I stood glued to the window of the service shop waiting for Q to pass by in about 5 min. After 10 minutes I called to check in on her, she said she knew where she was going and rushed me off the phone. After waiting almost a half hour Q arrived. She informed me that she had driven 2 train stops WEST – not EAST like I told her. Really Q… really? Why am I not surprised. As I directed her BACK to the deli she was pleasantly surprised to discover that my gas station haven was located on the same street as her deli, just two traffic lights away.
Edited for time:
The hookah in the shop
My gas attendant’s love of Britney Spears
The constant threat that my sweet candy ass would be sold to the next car load of “full serve” Armenian customers.

No please toss me one more chainsaw

Last weekend I was ensconced in heavy email exchanges with my Full Time recruiter who was trying to schedule my second interview with Fancy Lady, my Part Time recruiter who was not down with my need to take a half day so I could interview, and Office Manager dude requesting a phone interview on Monday at 12:30.
The phone interview was held on the corner of King St. and Hudson St during my 30 min lunch break in the middle of the worst NYC snow storm this season. I stood there on the corner with my back to river bundled up in my full length down coat trying not to sound frozen and wet. Oh and to add more stress to the situation I received an email at 12:15 informing me that I needed to be on a conference call at 1pm. Good LORD! The interview call sucked but long story short – he called just a few hours later to schedule a face to face.
The next day I scheduled the 2 – second interviews back to back. I thought why not, I already had requested a half day at my temp job. It again was FREEZING so my fashion was a bit under par but I did my best with Fancy Lady, grabbed a snack then proceeded to Office Manager. By the end of the day I had ridden 8 trains changed my shoes to boots 6 times, and retouched my makeup and hair 3 times.
I guess stuff went well enough because Office Manager is calling me back for interview three this Monday. However after talking about me for the past 2weeks I have become so boarded of my own voice and terribly charming stories that I am seriously considering just making stuff up.

I'm On a Roll

So I think I may be the superstar temp at my job. There are a bunch of us here (I don’t socialize with the others) but it seems like I am the one who gets to work independently and without direct supervision (sweet). Most of my day is still filled with rather basic stuff but on the day of my winter storm phone interview I was informed that I would be heading this rather big important thing. Great like I needed MORE stress. I sit in on conference calls where I understood about 1/5 of the conversation and I attend bi-weekly strategy meeting where everybody speaks in code. I take tons of notes and I kind of understand the big picture…but that is about it. However I must be doing something right cause the big cheese tapped me to coordinate this big time project. Too bad though they are still only paying me the “stupid temp” rate of $12 an hour, ouch. If I end up staying at temp job I will have to re-negotiate cause this is crazy.

PS - Cute boy alert at work. I have a little flirt thing going on with Ee, a sweet uber tall, (did I say cute?) maybe age appropriate, and hopefully NOT gay dude. Scooter is adamant that I ask Ee out however Galleta is concerned that I have become completely and utterly boy crazy. In response to my sudden infatuation I decided to do the only right thing, and cyber stalk my new pre-crush. I checked Facebook and Myspace –nothng. Really Ee no Facebook? So I looked to Google to hook me up with at least a nugget of info and what I discovered is that 1 - Ee may be 11 years my junior (there goes age appropriate), 2- he may be a convicted criminal, and 3 – and worst of all - He may still live at home with his folks.