February 14, 2011 § Leave a comment
About a two weeks ago, I exhausted the best Christmas present my brother J** has ever given me, “The Wire.” It took me longer than expected to finish the 5-season show because my sister and brother-in-law decided that they loved it too, and now I had to watch it on their schedule. No harm done, however, because having a schedule meant that I could accomplish other things during my day, most important–job hunting.
A couple of weeks ago, I checked out Netflix to see if I could get a free trial in which I could watch as many tv shows as I wanted. By chance, I discovered that sometime in the past, my father had added my computer to his Netflix account and I could watch as much as I wanted FOREVER.
Don’t make the same mistake I did. Don’t decide to watch the X-Files, from season 1 to 9 (currently on 5) because that was the nerdy part of high school you tried to avoid but would inevitably succumb to later in your adult life.
No matter how much funny shit Mulder says, don’t fall prey to his poker-face delivered jokes.
“Squeeze,” Season 1: Mulder sticking his hand in bile and announcing, “Quick, how do I get this off without betraying my cool exterior.”
“Humbug,” Season 2: Mulder catching Mr. Nutt, the dwarf or little person from “Twin Peaks,” underneath Scully’s trailer:
Mr. Nutt: Just because I’m not of so-called average height does not mean I must receive my thrills vicariously. Not all women are attracted to overly tall, lanky men such as yourself. You’d be surprised how many women find my size intriguingly alluring.
Mulder: You’d be surprised how many men do as well.
Don’t clap and giggle every time The Lone Gunmen appear in an episode.
Try to not become a victim of pop culture, thus feeling amazed when “The Andy Griffith Show” is cross-referenced with an X-Files episode in a quaint town where the villains are inbred monsters–BRILLIANT.
Don’t stay up all night watching the X-Files and then act like you’re 8 and need to sleep with the lights on because you’re too creeped out to fall asleep.
When ants start to crawl into the cracks of your basement room after a rainstorm, don’t think that the infestation automatically assumes X-File status.
Though watching “The Wire” only took an hour or less per day, abusing my newly discovered Netflix account has resulted in two weeks of doing nothing but eating, exercising, and watching the X-Files–oh, and NOT job hunting.
My job-hunting motivation has been equitably slaughtered by Mulder and Scully.
Things I was going to do in the last couple of weeks:
Read The Brothers KaramazovX-Files Season 1 Write two articles for a freelance gigX-Files Season 2 Take the Food Handlers testX-Files Season 3 Look for jobsX-Files Season 4 Finish reading A People’s History of the United StatesX-Files Season 5
My friends in Wisconsin will be happy to know, however, that I took a break from my FBI fantasies to watch the Packers win the Super Bowl.
Unemployment #6: Knowing when to move on, or realizing you aren’t “sexy” enough for the Portland service industry
January 28, 2011 § 2 Comments
I have been called that frightful word, “hipster.”
I listen to music, a lot of it, and I will tell you that I hate the Dave Matthews Band ever since the radio abused “Crash” when I was in high school. I will also exclaim that some of your music choices are “disgusting,” but probably behind your back.
I watch shows you’ve probably never seen, or more likely, have never heard of. Such as “Cowboy Bebop,” “Firefly,” “Battlestar Galactica” (is that hipster or just nerd?), and “The Wire” (I can’t help it, I’m obsessed with the show).
I wear dark clothes and vintage coats (just the coats though, I’m too fat to fit into vintage outfits).
I have a tattoo that depicts my upbringing and my favorite song of 2004.
The most hipster thing about me, however, is my attitude, and this offends me. I like to think of myself becoming jaded the moment I found myself behind the slats of a baby crib, not because an abominate subculture says I am.
Like every other hipster, I resent being called one. I agree, however, that I have hipster qualities that disgust others (or just my general qualities that frighten people). Little did I know, however, that I was to be one-upped in hipsterdom by EVERY OTHER PERSON in Portland, OR, thus making me the least sexy newcomer to apply for work in the service industry.
Fact: I am not sexy enough to be a server or bartender in Portland.
Why? Rejection from low-end employers based upon my looks (no piercing, no visible tattoos, no eye make-up), dress (interview appropriate, sensible shoes, neutral colors), speak (articulating my words, not saying “like” or “rad”), resume (a wrongly outfitted resume with too much job experience in different fields, interviewers get confused), and status (Portland newcomer with no friends or connections).
The problem with not being cool enough for Portland stems from my main problem of desperation. If I had a job already, I would be more confident in interviews for other jobs, but as it is, I am absolutely desperate for work, and I’m sure that shows.
At any rate, I’d like my friends and acquaintances to reconsider my “hipster” status, because here, I don’t exist as one.
- Portlandia: Put A Bird On It & Check Your Chicken’s Papers (apartmenttherapy.com)
- What Cracked.com says about Hipsters