well, i'm sure you're wondering how things went... so am i. the perspective boss man is off to his sister-in-law's wedding in mexico, so i'm assuming he's not going to be calling in the next 7-9 days. that's the short answer.
the abriviated answer isn't much more revealing. basically, i can tell you that it was either the best or worst interview i've ever done in my life. let me tell you why i think so. i'll set the stage...the interviewing committee was three older ladies and one older gentleman. two looked like pretty easy sells, the other two, not so much. and one showed up 20 minutes late, because this person forgot they were interviewing me. (did i mention the fact that i was EXACTLY on time? not too early, not too late, just right. and i was not overcaffineated or undersleeped. i know that's not a word, but i think it's pretty inventive. i get extra points. ) needless to say, i felt like i should have gotten a gimme point or three for participating in somewhat mindless chatter with the other three until the fourth interviewer arrived. all i can say is thank God and the baby Jesus i was raised in the south and can make idle chitchat with anyone for at least 20 minutes. in that time, you can discover that you actually know people in common, have had some common experience, and make a nice comment on the other parties experience or outfit, and still have it come off as being nice AND engaging. the interviewing room was horribly set up. i felt like i was selling avon, and had forgotten my flow charts. but i crossed my ankles, took a deep breath, and tried to answer their questions. did i mention they had a SCRIPT?
yes, yes, a script. and they were nuts about it. and i have to say, if i get this job, i will find out who created those questions, and pray for the salvation of their itty bitty cold hard hearts. here's my favorite question (with no preface, examples, ect.) "How do you meet people?" are you KIDDING me? thank good ness i got that problem with my inner monologue becoming my outter monologue, because i might have embarrassed myself with a totally inappropriate response, somewhere along the lines of like "You mean like in a bar?" i was terribly glad to find out that i did not have a mouth full of water, because i might have given the panel a shamu-like showering upon hearing the question.
i waited about ten second to see if the person who was rapidly becoming known as "the grand inquisitor" inside my head to finish asking the question. she didn't. that was it. it was hard, difficult, painful, almost to not rattle off the legion of smart-ass answers that begged to come tripping so easily off my tongue. i answered, in my best "please hire me, because i am a budding genius with a wonderful and compassionate heart who wants to save the world and love Jesus" voice, that the way i met people was to look them in the eye, tell them my name, shake their hand, and try to find some common ground to talk about. what a plastic answer to an impossibly plastic question. oy and vey. i have never felt more goofy in my entire adult life. seriously. not even at camp. not even with shaving cream in my hair. not even the time i got so tickled that i wet my pants in a room full of my peers.
"how do you meet people?" seriously, what did they expect me to say? "well, first i dance around like a goon, and then we open up the liquor, roll up some doobies, and see where the experience takes us. did i mention that i'm currently enrolled in a pole dancing class at SAC?" "i'm agoraphobic, so most of my relationships are based on typing speed and internet connectivity." "i was raised by a pack of wild dogs, so i'm mostly into ear nipping and unashamed ass-sniffing, followed by peeing on whatever stands still and doesn't smell familiar to me." "i already know everyone. i'm just that good. the masses flock to me. what can i say? i'm more popular than anyone you've ever met. and the only reason you haven't met me yet, is so you can meet me now, and be overawed by my personhood."
i have to say that the questions did get a little bit better. but i've never been in an all-by-the-script interview. they didn't even ask follow up questions. which either means that i answered every question perfectly, to their entire satisfaction, or i screwed the answers up so badly, they didn't care to hear more from me. i think the truth is hopefully somewhere closer to the first...at least, i hope so. i walked out feeling like i needed a stiff drink. so i went home and took a nap, instead. i'll keep you posted.
i hope like hell i got this job, because if that is what interview panels are like everywhere, now, i have got to take a class or something.
mil besos--rmg
24 September 2006
21 September 2006
*insert catchy title here*
i have a job interview on saturday morning. i know, who in his or her right mind goes to a job interview on saturday morning? well, i think we can all atest to my being a little, well, um, quirky. so saturday it is. momma bought me a new blue twinset and some black pants, so i can look like the professional i know is lurking deep inside me, somewhere. i feel like there is a lot riding on this interview. probably because there IS a lot riding on this interview. not like my whole existance as a human being, or anything like that...but i really think i want this job. i think i could do the job, and do it well, and feel like i was doing something worth while, and not just muddling along. we can hope. hope is a good thing, dangerous, but good.
i can't believe i'm almost 28. that's so bizarre to me, on many levels, not the least of which is that it seems SO OLD and SO YOUNG, at the same time. when did my life turn into a lesson in dichotomy? or is that one of those lessons we all learn as we get older? i'm rambling, again, i know...
i know that if this job doesn't pan out, others will. i know that i'm going to be ok, regardless. i know that. that doesn't make me not want to stomp my foot and demand that this thing go my way, though. so much for maturity...it's so over-rated. but i keep having visions of what this time next year might be like, and they are pretty nice. i'll spare you the details, and just fill you in later.
at least i interview well. i've even got a medal or two from high school to prove that fact. i can probably dig them out of my trunk and show you, if you don't believe me. a gold one, even. i'm that good. i just have to remember not to fidget, and hope that i don't get the giggles or slip and say something totally off color, which i will think is funny, but falls flat on the room. and i have to remember to be honest, but not spill my guts about what i really think about things. and not fidget. that's the worst. that means that i won't be allowed to wear jewlery below the neck, and should avoid painting my nails, because that will just give me something to pick at. and if they offer me coffee, not to shred the napkin into tiny little pieces. i would be a horrible poker player. i have no game. i secretly just want them to like me and think i am a genius and hire me on the spot. two out of three wouldn't be bad...
so, here's to hope. keep you fingers crossed. we need a homerun, gang.
mil besos--rmg
i can't believe i'm almost 28. that's so bizarre to me, on many levels, not the least of which is that it seems SO OLD and SO YOUNG, at the same time. when did my life turn into a lesson in dichotomy? or is that one of those lessons we all learn as we get older? i'm rambling, again, i know...
i know that if this job doesn't pan out, others will. i know that i'm going to be ok, regardless. i know that. that doesn't make me not want to stomp my foot and demand that this thing go my way, though. so much for maturity...it's so over-rated. but i keep having visions of what this time next year might be like, and they are pretty nice. i'll spare you the details, and just fill you in later.
at least i interview well. i've even got a medal or two from high school to prove that fact. i can probably dig them out of my trunk and show you, if you don't believe me. a gold one, even. i'm that good. i just have to remember not to fidget, and hope that i don't get the giggles or slip and say something totally off color, which i will think is funny, but falls flat on the room. and i have to remember to be honest, but not spill my guts about what i really think about things. and not fidget. that's the worst. that means that i won't be allowed to wear jewlery below the neck, and should avoid painting my nails, because that will just give me something to pick at. and if they offer me coffee, not to shred the napkin into tiny little pieces. i would be a horrible poker player. i have no game. i secretly just want them to like me and think i am a genius and hire me on the spot. two out of three wouldn't be bad...
so, here's to hope. keep you fingers crossed. we need a homerun, gang.
mil besos--rmg
11 September 2006
thoughts on waking
it's midnight, and i can't sleep, again. seems like my sleep cycle is all wacked out, probably from too many naps induced by two weeks on antibiotics and allergies that won't quit. and then there's the thought of that red plaid shirt, sitting under my chair, in a quiet corner of the room. i love that shirt. it's one of my favorites. but everytime i wear it, i remember the first time i wore it, and it changes everything.
i know there are a lot of people who will be blogging about september 11, today. i guess i'll just cast my lot with them, and tell you what i remember, what i learned, and what i hope it all means.
i spent the day before doing day-off kind of things. i bought my first cell phone, fixed dinner for my roommates, and stayed up watching the news. i woke up sometime around 8 or so, to the alarm clock, with the radio disc jockey mumbling something bizarre in my ear about snipers on rooftops, which i assumed was just another stupid radio escapade to boost ratings. my allergies were bothering me on that morning, too, so i decided to reset the alarm for 9:30 and see how i felt, and maybe call in to work. i think i had been asleep for maybe 5 minutes when the phone in our apartment started ringing off the hook.
i stumbled into the hallway, and grabbed the phone, right about the time my roommate caroline opened her door. celeste was on the phone, practically hysterically telling me something about planes and new york, and that i needed to turn on the tv NOW. caro had a tv in her room, and we immediately turned it on. you know what we saw. it was incredible. we stood there at the foot of her bed, watching the tv, in utter amazement. we grabbed hands, like two little girls in our pj's and cried. we didn't even know what was going on at that point. not really, anyway. i have no idea how long we stood there, but i remember watching the south tower come down, and having that feeling like i absolutely couldn't believe what i was seeing. i didn't believe my eyes. i couldn't. i didn't want to.
i called work. i was told to dress and drive as quickly and safely as i could into the office. i think i asked caroline if she wanted to go with me, but i think she said she would stay at home and wait for our other roommate chris to call home. chris's sister lived and worked in lower manhattan. it was surreal.
i drove down 183, and passed businesses who'd already lowered their flags to half-staff. i listened to the radio, understanding perfectly well what the dj's had meant when i turned them off earlier that morning. it was an otherworldly drive into work. the roads were wide open. all the radio stations had switched to their news affliates. there was no music, no morning hi-jinks, no commercials, no relief, nothing but wall to wall to wall to wall information. and even that was spotty, at best.
i got to work in my red plaid shirt, cut princess style, with three-quarter sleeves. i remember getting out of my car and thinking that this would be one of the days where i remembered everything--what i was wearing, what i did, who i saw, who i talked to and who i couldn't reach. i had been in dc a month ago, had lived there. i had friends who still lived there. i couldn't reach them. couldn't even get the phone to ring.
work, at the church, was chaotic, at best. we had a tv plugged in and rigged to get a channel or two in nancy's office. we all went to work answering phones. i finally got totally overstimulated and went to cry in my office, across the yard from the main building. i turned on the tv in there, and saw press conferences, replayed images of what became 4 crashes and crash sites. i heard body counts, etc. what i remembered was no sense of relief at all. there were no commercials, which i found oddly disconcerting. it just never stopped. i remember many phone calls to my family that day...over and over, just brief little calls, just checking in.
i got home that night, after what seemed like years at work. i canceled plans with some friends from college. i was just to strung out to be around people. chris finally heard from her sister, so we all breathed a sigh of relief. i heard from my friend hope, who was shaken up, but ok in dc. we heard from a friend of chris's that worked on capital hill that as he was driving up mass ave, after his office was evacuated, that he felt the concussion of the plane that hit the pentagon. hope said that there were machine gun turrets set up all around dc, that there were guys in camo on every street corner. that she didn't know what was happening, but that the office shut down for the day, and that never happened. i remember being glad that hope and i had gone and donated blood in august, before i moved back home. my aunt and uncle were in las vegas that weekend. they were supposed to fly out on the 11th, but their flight got cancelled. my uncle says that he saw a guy offer a cabbie $6000 to drive him all the way home to Chicago. he and my aunt waited three days to get out of vegas. caroline missed one of her best friend's wedding. we watched tv late into the night, every night, and drank a lot of hot tea.
i remember the days that followed. i remember faces on tv, names of people missing, smoldering piles of buildings, and the intensity of the panic surrounding it all. i remember watching the news, not just because that was all that was on, but because that was all i wanted to watch. i remember logging onto the cnn.com website every thirty minutes, and checking the news wires. i had nightmares for a long time. still do, some nights.
i guess it was the same day the president presided at the memorial service at national cathedral that i realized things were going to be different from then on. strange how it took me a whole week. i knew (and still know) people who lost dear friends, people who lost family members, people who lost jobs, etc. i watched a city that i dearly loved and lived in and another city i idealized and dreamed about be turned upside down and cut to pieces. it seemed so surreal, like at any moment, someone would come on the tv, and say, ha ha, this national disaster drill was a test, and only a test...instead the news played on, the memorial service tied up, and all of the sudden, a seinfeld re-run picked up in mid course on the picture screen. it was so bizarre. so unsettling. but oddly perfect, in a horrible belch-out loud-at-the-dinner party-because- you're-stumbling-drunk kind of way. i looked at the screen, with george and elaine going nuts over george's tupee, and i burst into tears. i think i was most afraid that everything was going back to normal, and that nothing would ever be normal again.
september 11th is one of those benchmark days. i wasn't alive when pearl harbour was bombed, when jfk was assassinated, or when elvis died. i remember what the world was like on september 10th, and i will never be able to give that to my children. and even if it was just a mirage, even if we were never as safe and secure as we thought we were, i wish for just a minute we could hold our breaths and feel that way, again. and at the same time, i'm glad we don't harbour that illusion any longer.
the truth of the matter is that i don't think any of us are sure about what the legacy of september 11th is or will be. i think that we all have so many unanswered and unasked questions about the nature of ourselves and how we relate to the world to begin defining a legacy. (you can read more about the lives of people who were lost that day at http://www.dcroe.com/2996/. my good friend tpon has a great blog up about her and her husband's friend, christopher mello, at prolly.blogs.com.)
what i do know is that 2,996 people were killed that day. while their deaths are heartbreaking, appalling, and horribly unfair, i think the legacy we have to build is about their lives, who they were, and what they meant. and we have to start living out of an attitude of love and hope, not one of fear and pessimism. we have to start behaving that way, as well, on a personal level, with the people we see on the streets, in our offices, at school, on the bus, in traffic, in restaurants, etc. this world is reminded every day of how awful we can be to each other. we can do better. we must do better. we owe it to our brothers and sisters who died 5 years ago. and we owe it to a loving and precious savior who stretched out his arms, and loved us into wholeness, and calls us to be holy.
it's 1am. there's a little boy who knows nothing of this event, nothing of this blog, nothing of the world except what God whispers in his ear, who's waiting to see me at 6am, so i can get him ready for another day of school. but if i could tell him one thing it would be that i believe there is enough love in this world to overcome all the hate. i believe that.
mil besos--rmg
i know there are a lot of people who will be blogging about september 11, today. i guess i'll just cast my lot with them, and tell you what i remember, what i learned, and what i hope it all means.
i spent the day before doing day-off kind of things. i bought my first cell phone, fixed dinner for my roommates, and stayed up watching the news. i woke up sometime around 8 or so, to the alarm clock, with the radio disc jockey mumbling something bizarre in my ear about snipers on rooftops, which i assumed was just another stupid radio escapade to boost ratings. my allergies were bothering me on that morning, too, so i decided to reset the alarm for 9:30 and see how i felt, and maybe call in to work. i think i had been asleep for maybe 5 minutes when the phone in our apartment started ringing off the hook.
i stumbled into the hallway, and grabbed the phone, right about the time my roommate caroline opened her door. celeste was on the phone, practically hysterically telling me something about planes and new york, and that i needed to turn on the tv NOW. caro had a tv in her room, and we immediately turned it on. you know what we saw. it was incredible. we stood there at the foot of her bed, watching the tv, in utter amazement. we grabbed hands, like two little girls in our pj's and cried. we didn't even know what was going on at that point. not really, anyway. i have no idea how long we stood there, but i remember watching the south tower come down, and having that feeling like i absolutely couldn't believe what i was seeing. i didn't believe my eyes. i couldn't. i didn't want to.
i called work. i was told to dress and drive as quickly and safely as i could into the office. i think i asked caroline if she wanted to go with me, but i think she said she would stay at home and wait for our other roommate chris to call home. chris's sister lived and worked in lower manhattan. it was surreal.
i drove down 183, and passed businesses who'd already lowered their flags to half-staff. i listened to the radio, understanding perfectly well what the dj's had meant when i turned them off earlier that morning. it was an otherworldly drive into work. the roads were wide open. all the radio stations had switched to their news affliates. there was no music, no morning hi-jinks, no commercials, no relief, nothing but wall to wall to wall to wall information. and even that was spotty, at best.
i got to work in my red plaid shirt, cut princess style, with three-quarter sleeves. i remember getting out of my car and thinking that this would be one of the days where i remembered everything--what i was wearing, what i did, who i saw, who i talked to and who i couldn't reach. i had been in dc a month ago, had lived there. i had friends who still lived there. i couldn't reach them. couldn't even get the phone to ring.
work, at the church, was chaotic, at best. we had a tv plugged in and rigged to get a channel or two in nancy's office. we all went to work answering phones. i finally got totally overstimulated and went to cry in my office, across the yard from the main building. i turned on the tv in there, and saw press conferences, replayed images of what became 4 crashes and crash sites. i heard body counts, etc. what i remembered was no sense of relief at all. there were no commercials, which i found oddly disconcerting. it just never stopped. i remember many phone calls to my family that day...over and over, just brief little calls, just checking in.
i got home that night, after what seemed like years at work. i canceled plans with some friends from college. i was just to strung out to be around people. chris finally heard from her sister, so we all breathed a sigh of relief. i heard from my friend hope, who was shaken up, but ok in dc. we heard from a friend of chris's that worked on capital hill that as he was driving up mass ave, after his office was evacuated, that he felt the concussion of the plane that hit the pentagon. hope said that there were machine gun turrets set up all around dc, that there were guys in camo on every street corner. that she didn't know what was happening, but that the office shut down for the day, and that never happened. i remember being glad that hope and i had gone and donated blood in august, before i moved back home. my aunt and uncle were in las vegas that weekend. they were supposed to fly out on the 11th, but their flight got cancelled. my uncle says that he saw a guy offer a cabbie $6000 to drive him all the way home to Chicago. he and my aunt waited three days to get out of vegas. caroline missed one of her best friend's wedding. we watched tv late into the night, every night, and drank a lot of hot tea.
i remember the days that followed. i remember faces on tv, names of people missing, smoldering piles of buildings, and the intensity of the panic surrounding it all. i remember watching the news, not just because that was all that was on, but because that was all i wanted to watch. i remember logging onto the cnn.com website every thirty minutes, and checking the news wires. i had nightmares for a long time. still do, some nights.
i guess it was the same day the president presided at the memorial service at national cathedral that i realized things were going to be different from then on. strange how it took me a whole week. i knew (and still know) people who lost dear friends, people who lost family members, people who lost jobs, etc. i watched a city that i dearly loved and lived in and another city i idealized and dreamed about be turned upside down and cut to pieces. it seemed so surreal, like at any moment, someone would come on the tv, and say, ha ha, this national disaster drill was a test, and only a test...instead the news played on, the memorial service tied up, and all of the sudden, a seinfeld re-run picked up in mid course on the picture screen. it was so bizarre. so unsettling. but oddly perfect, in a horrible belch-out loud-at-the-dinner party-because- you're-stumbling-drunk kind of way. i looked at the screen, with george and elaine going nuts over george's tupee, and i burst into tears. i think i was most afraid that everything was going back to normal, and that nothing would ever be normal again.
september 11th is one of those benchmark days. i wasn't alive when pearl harbour was bombed, when jfk was assassinated, or when elvis died. i remember what the world was like on september 10th, and i will never be able to give that to my children. and even if it was just a mirage, even if we were never as safe and secure as we thought we were, i wish for just a minute we could hold our breaths and feel that way, again. and at the same time, i'm glad we don't harbour that illusion any longer.
the truth of the matter is that i don't think any of us are sure about what the legacy of september 11th is or will be. i think that we all have so many unanswered and unasked questions about the nature of ourselves and how we relate to the world to begin defining a legacy. (you can read more about the lives of people who were lost that day at http://www.dcroe.com/2996/. my good friend tpon has a great blog up about her and her husband's friend, christopher mello, at prolly.blogs.com.)
what i do know is that 2,996 people were killed that day. while their deaths are heartbreaking, appalling, and horribly unfair, i think the legacy we have to build is about their lives, who they were, and what they meant. and we have to start living out of an attitude of love and hope, not one of fear and pessimism. we have to start behaving that way, as well, on a personal level, with the people we see on the streets, in our offices, at school, on the bus, in traffic, in restaurants, etc. this world is reminded every day of how awful we can be to each other. we can do better. we must do better. we owe it to our brothers and sisters who died 5 years ago. and we owe it to a loving and precious savior who stretched out his arms, and loved us into wholeness, and calls us to be holy.
it's 1am. there's a little boy who knows nothing of this event, nothing of this blog, nothing of the world except what God whispers in his ear, who's waiting to see me at 6am, so i can get him ready for another day of school. but if i could tell him one thing it would be that i believe there is enough love in this world to overcome all the hate. i believe that.
mil besos--rmg
06 September 2006
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