Boomerangs and Dirty Business: The Challenge of Networking

I hate networking. I hate it because it's a filthy game of soullessness and greed. Now that said I'm working on the whole idea of networking, because, if I throw up a pretend statistic that is close to right, 90% of the people I know who have gotten jobs in their fields after graduating had done so because they know someone or their parents know someone.

I know people, they're just not the right people apparently, so I am on LinkedIn, I'm emailing the heck out of people asking for advice, I'm studying the bossman's technique (he listed networking as an "interest" for a class he is taking, he is a pro at it if one can be), and I'm reading and researching.  I can do these things. Maybe.

So far the bossman's technique has gotten me a client who may or may not have asked me to visit his son out of state with him, so I'm not great at it yet but I'll keep working. My mom's boss is willing to put in a good word for me in the places where she can, which helps. I'm on HR's mind when new jobs come up, I have them thinking of me, inventing ways to make it work. And I'm meeting people. The one person who emailed me back with advice said business cards were a biggie, so now that's on the table as an idea.

I've discovered a new in today. One that is sort of "six degrees of Kevin Bacon" but isn't that how this game is supposed to be played? If I knew people who could help me, wouldn't I already be out of this situation?

Here's to networking, then taking a shower.

Gossip: You Throw It Out and It Comes Right Back to You

I think I've made it clear how I feel about working retail, especailly my current retail job. My Independence Day blow up (which I turn a pretty shade of purple when talking about, I wonder what a psychologist would say about  mixed sense pride and shame?) is still haunting me. And I know, the situation is one of those that will take a bit to get to disappear, but the people that keep coming to me telling me its still being talked about aren't even people I work with. The people talking about the whole thing aren't the supposed unsophisticated-youngins' working their first job, traumatized by the horrors of working for a company who knows that you are utterly replaceable.

No the gossipers are the middle aged ladies with real jobs and children my age. Children, who, if put in my position on that day, would have angry mothers breathing hell fire. But since I am somehow less human then their flunky children I deserve much worse than I got, which was nothing. My boss sighed and asked me not to quit, apologized for something she had nothing to do with and accepted my apology for not handling it better. Since then with few exceptions work has been rather peaceful, the talking behind people's backs still runs rampant but I suppose that's just the nature of the beast.

Now, because the incident was with a lower manager and the gossiper is her equal I'm stuck. I either suffer through the my already painful job with the added bit of whispering and backstabbing or I quit. So, I'm going to quit.

And if I'm being honest, I'm not good at quitting. I've quit twice in my life, once after the managers decided that I was lying about being sick because I didn't sound sick (I'm polite enough not to take the phone to the bathroom with me) and the second time was my July 4th incident of this year (and that didn't stick).

I need you to hold me accountable. Keep me from going back to the lack of respect and the lack of pay. Today, the curmudgeons win. But I'm looking bigger picture here.

Living in the "Right" Place: A Boomerang's Tale

At my bank job I am allowed an hour of silly internet time a day. I rarely use that hour because 1.Though we are a slow branch there is only so much of People.com one can handle and 2. I have access to internet news free and clear. I spend a bit of time on the culture pages, read some of the more tasteful news blogs, check out the Guardian online (the sheer enormity of the site can keep me going for days) but out of habit, and perhaps ease of spelling, I always start my day on CNN.com. Yesterday, I made the mistake of ending it there.

I have to clarify this upfront my outrage and hurt have nothing to do with CNN, they were just creating a top ten type list and it so happened to pique my interest, I don't hold CNN responsible for my heartbreak.

I'm clicking through links and more links and end up here. The article is a wonderful place to read and dream, and there are pictures to aid me in this endeavor. I really wanted to know where the jobs are, and where I need to be to find these jobs. I clicked next after the first slide and nearly cried. Number two: Loudoun County.

I live there. I live here! I have for the majority of my twenty-three years. Most of my jobs have been in Loudoun County. All of my jobs in Loudoun County have been menial (with the exception of my internship at Weider History Group, that was intellectually stimulating, it was fun, it was professional) mindless jobs. I've worked at the outlet mall in Leesburg for nearly seven years. I've worked in labs and banks and doctor's offices for little pay and usually no benefits.

Before you get too agitated about the above point you need to know that for the last, well, no less than five years, Loudoun County has been either the first or second richest county per capita. So, yes, I'm jaded about making $8.51 an hour helping women who claim an income of $250000 a year only to be declined for a credit card that starts with a $250 limit.

Back to the living in the second best place to find a job. Verizon, Aol, and some other large tech companies are headquartered here. Verizon is having union troubles right now. Makes me wary of even considering working there, though I'm not qualified for anything. Aol is only anything anymore because it acquired Huffington Post recently and with that they acquired higher standards when it comes to experience.

Loudoun County is still a bit wild around the edges, my neighbors have cows. I just got bumped from a farm sitting gig while the farmers, a nurse and a federal law enforcement agent, are on vacation, they're Virginia Tech-student of a son is leasing himself to other farmers to make a bit of cash before heading back to school. Twenty miles east is where creepy suburbia begins, and not all Starbucks and WholeFoods, just white people, houses and expensive cars to go with credit debt and teeny-bopper clothes on the forty-somethings. Suburbia is a new invention, my parents moved to Loudoun County so that my father could help draft the plans for that evil.

So I'm in the right place. I have been applying to jobs and beseeching people to help me. So what if I lived in Loudoun County when people ate the chickens from their backyards. So what if my childhood friends were very successful in 4-H. I have the education. I have some of the experience. And the places I've lived while not living in Loudoun County have been dreams come true. London, New York, Harrisonburg. Dreams lived, and I can't find a job in my hometown.

The Boomerang Drives

Two of the girls I work with, colleagues from the same job, totaled their cars with past week. And being a supposed mediocre driver I didn't pass judgement, mostly I told them I was glad they were alive. Then I heard the stories.

Girl one was driving in the rain and hydroplaned, scary, everything would have been fine except the spot where her car stopped was a hunk of cement that tried to rip her entire undercarriage to shreds. With school about to start and her hours being a bit low at both of her jobs, a wedding to plan and the like she cut her losses and settled for an older but nice used car to replace it and went on her merry way.

Girl two hit a tree, because she was driving too fast around a bend, misjudging the whole speed/curve thing because she was inebriated. She passed all of the sobriety tests but she blew a .1, above the legal limit in Virginia since, well, a while. How she didn't get a DUI, I don't know. But the bragging about this fact is kind of sickening. Is it cruel that I hope that when she goes to court for her reckless charges she gets it good?

Then today while stopped at a stoplight I noticed I a police car behind me, what really caught my eye was that the police officer was using his computer. If texting is illegal shouldn't Googling be as well?

It is said that drowsy driving and distracted driving are as dangerous as drunk driving so my real question is why did, when the light turned green, the officer keep his eyes glued to his screen, especially when the station was a mere half mile past the light? Could it have been that urgent? Was he running my plates for kicks and giggles? Maybe. But what if the roles were reversed?

I've been pulled over for driving too slow, I was changing a CD and trying not to get caught out after curfew, it was indeed two in the morning. I was questioned about drinking and eyed suspiciously before being sent on my way with a warning, he pulled me over outside of then town limits. That was embarrassing enough to keep me worried about actually drinking and driving, not driving drunk, having a drink and a few hours later driving home...what if I speed, what if?

Texting is freighting no-no, one that I'm guilty of.  Distracted and dangerous, a friend nearly scared me straight while driving down Interstate-81. Swerving, swearing and speed nearly did the trick. But I'm not stupid, I know that despite my ability to blind text, I could indeed kill myself or others. I'm slowly being cured by the habit, that police officer on the computer sure did help that cause.

Lest we forget, cars are death traps. We get complaisant, comfortable driving our 1000 miles a week. Keep me alive a kicking. Don't drink and drive and I won't. Don't text and drive and I won't. 

The Communicating Boomerang

Enough is enough. If I send you an email, directed at you, in response to your email, and with questions that are not rhetorical in nature you have to send me an email in return, potential employers included.

On that note, I shouldn't be saying that, I do have this blog linked from some conspicuous places.

Communication is one of those things that job ads are always noting that the ideal candidate should be an excellent communicator. And I, at least I hope, am a decent communicator but then again shouting into the abyss isn't communicating. So, I think as I type that last sentence, is this communicating? And my hope is that it would be. My hope is that it is.

The stats show that nearly daily someone looks at this thing everyday. And I am working on when to keep my mouth shut when it's appropriate. I'm working on telling people what I need. And asking questions has, for the most part, been a strong point.

I've been told, and I'd like to believe, I'm an ok writer. I'll never tell you I am the best, I read a friends blog today, it was like being in creative writing again, he sparkled brighter than I could.

I have room for improvement but it hurts, it actually feels like a personal dig, when the communication goes out, no matter how feeble, and there is no response, none.

For all the boomerangs out there, it is indignant enough to live at home with very little independence financially, please just write us back.

Job Sympathy for the Boomerang

In an interesting turn of events, the last few days have been filled with questions and condolences regarding a promotion I recently lost an outside hire (I was unqualified, I was considered based on personality and speed). I knew long before I was officially turned down that the woman I would have been assisting was looking elsewhere for that experience I didn't have, so when I got the call saying they had hired someone else (I know, first reject call in a long, well, ever) I wasn't terribly disappointed.

My boss, reassured me it was for the best, though I think he's being selfish about the whole thing. He needs me to edit the papers he has to write for the class he is taking, even he knows I'm in the wrong profession. And in quick passing the HR person in charge of the whole debacle expressed her deep sympathy over the whole thing. Like it was somehow her fault. It couldn't be.

I'm not sure how I feel about this now. I wanted the job for the money. I wanted it for the hours and the prospect of getting out of retail. But it's not a path I'd like to take, it's not me. I'm not numbers. I'm words. But the mounting number of rejections and the looming two year anniversary of my college graduation have me reeling. I'm digging myself deeper into the black hole that is a black mood and am having more and more trouble seeing the light.

The Boomerang's Dilemma

I have discovered a problem with my situation, the underemployed, living at home situation. It is keeping me from getting a job. In one sentence: I live with my mother because I can't find a job and I can't find a job because I live with my mother.

Now tell me what to do about this?