Thanks for not taking my $100 shoes or $200 worth of Stila make up.

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Thanks for leaving behind my nearly full bottle of Ralph Lauren Romance that I keep in the car just in case.

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Thanks for completely missing a compartment and not riffling through my CDs or spotting my digital tire gauge.

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Thanks for leaving my havaianas because I love them and couldn't live without (I still remember the good ole days before they became so popular, and I ordered them off eBay for $6 including shipping from Brazil).

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Where would I be without my iPhone car charger?  I don't know, but you made sure that I didn't have to find out.  How sweet of you.

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Thanks for not breaking any of my windows or keying the surface.  You were really very gentle to my car compared to the damage you could have done.

Thank you most of all for teaching me a valuable lesson: that I can't trust my car in my designated garage that has a long narrow driveway that would deter most people or maybe it's that I can't trust my neighborhood.   The lesson could even be that a healthy level of 'feeling violated' is a good reality check, or I should never leave my favorite Snoopy coin purse in my car.  Whatever it is, thanks! :-)

.

Oh!  I almost forgot.  Thanks for taking the Flaming Hot Cheetos because those were just going to be empty calories anyway.

We quit speaking to these colossal cracker-asses a few months ago when the female neighbor, Bitchcakes Lumpspine (she walks like someone has hate-fucked a limp into her) flew out of her house and attacked my husband for politely asking a visiting friend of hers to move out of our parking space so that I could park when I arrived home.  Girlfriend got some serious anger management issues, perhaps for reasons outlined further along in this explanation... 

When we bought our little townhouse here in Bumblefucknowhere, NC, we were the real estate agent's first sale.  And actually, he didn't show us the place -- it'd just been put on the market, so we had to break into the joint.  And by WE, I mean, my husband hoisted ME up through a transom window and I let THEM in through the front door.  Yeah, I guess some people (read: uptight pricks) might call that "breaking in" but I mean, really, we bought the fucking place, didn't we?!  Anyway, when we closed the deal, the agent, whose real name, I promise you, is as ridiculous as Beauregard Haynesworth Snooterton III, mentioned that there was another nice young couple (the Lumpspines) in the place across from us.  He knew them from college. 

We ended up being friendly with these people, despite all the warning signs that they were a) complete fucktards, b) socially inept and c) still under the impression that they lived in a college dorm.  Our first sign of their combined mental instability was when we walked into their home and noticed the ample collection of ... swords hanging on all the walls.  Jarring as this was, to be suddenly surrounded by weaponry, we were then proudly told that they weren't really real swords -- they were those lame-as-shit swords that sci-fi nerds order from fantasy catalogues.  You know, fake versions of Excalibur, only dull-bladed and whimsical, rather like the young man who was purchasing them, come to think.  Then we noticed the painted figurines.  This same guy liked to paint tiny D&D figurines.  It was like being watched by tiny gnomes wherever you went.  Also, even though it was the dead of winter, a nice 30 degrees outside, they didn't turn their heat on.  Rather, they tossed us a blanket to huddle under.  Not kidding.     

Besides the unhealthy addiction to fake junk masquerading as decor, they were also into sports, which my man and I have never understood.  I know, I know.  This puts us at odds from the rest of the functioning American society.  And I do tutor athletes at a prestigious southern university, so actually my sport-lore-ineptitude comes in handy:  I can never report on the athletes in an illicit way since I can barely remember who plays what nor what that position means.  I innocently ask baseball guys if they enjoy playing lineback.  Ask my dad -- when I was 16, I was bewildered when he kept screeching at the quarterback on TV.  I told him I felt it was unfair of him to blame the poor bastard who flipped the coin before the game.  He still shakes his head in shame at the memory.  Anyway, despite learning this upon numerous occasions, the Lumpspines felt it was their sworn duty to make us like sports.  They wouldn't take "no" for an answer when we politely declined invitations to come watch "the game" (a game we weren't even sure involved a ball or a puck, that's how much we suck) in their frigid home under a blanket.  It was like they thought we were fucking with them, that we secretly just liked to watch sports in private.  And at this point, we weren't fucking with them at all.  Not yet. 

When bullying us into figuring out the Superbowl didn't work, they switched tactics.  So they'd come over, a beer in each enthusiastic fist, to our front door, at like 8 PM, ring the bell and want to come and stand in our hallway, refusing to sit down, just to enjoy a pop-call.  I mean, I know you do this when you're 18 and living in a dorm, but Jesus Christ, people, we have a fucking couch.  Also, 8 PM?  Get the fuck off my front porch.  I am likely giving my husband a blow-job or ripping out pubic hair with hot wax.  Neither activity should involve neighbors.  Who want to talk about, bafflingly, "the game." 

These are some of the sad activities we did with these people:

1. Renaissance Faire -- yes. In full garb, except for my husband who was horrified that we were even going. Neighbor Sir Queeralot wore a kilt over his pasty white boy skin. I found $60 on the ground, and they tried to make us hand it over to security. At a southern Ren Faire with everyone in tights and "security" consisiting of a guy with a lute. However, they didn't object to us buying them dinner with our ill-gotten gains.
2. Intermural Football -- I don't even want to talk about it.
3. First Night Premiere of The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe -- First fucking night. With every retarded Christian kid in the area, screaming and crying and talking to voices. It was like being in hell.
4. Bridal Shower -- because Neighbor Bitchcakes didn't have any real friends, she made me throw her bridal shower. Even though I couldn't go to her wedding (i.e. I was in England. Another country... thank God). And she held it against us FOREVER that we didn't attend.
5. Homeowner's Meetings -- where Neighbor Bitchcakes and Sir Queeralot made us cringe in our seats and pray that people didn't think we were friends when they set up a solitary lone howl against the (gasp!) 5-whole-dollars increase of homeowners' dues to pay for some repairs. Bitchcakes showed off her newly minted tramp stamp in too-tight skinny jeans, also letting her dental floss ride up and consequently scaring the hell out of the old lady next to me. Sir Queeralot ran for office after they were persistently shushed and then promptly NOT elected.

Did you catch that about the wedding? Because when we first met, the crazy kids weren't hitched yet. This wouldn't bother most people, I guess, and we assumed it didn't bother them since they were, you know, shacking up. Boy, were we wrong. Whenever his or her folks would come over, she had to pretend like she slept on the couch. For real. Who was buying that?!

And so naturally we assumed that, like so many hot-blooded American young people, they were doing the nasty despite some uptight 'rents. Oh, no. Turns out, it's Sir Queeralot's dream to be a virgin on his wedding night. Well, that's kind of sweet, I bet some of you are thinking. Yeah, it would be, IF...

IF HE WASN'T BUTT-FUCKING HER INSTEAD.

(Yeah, this was said.)

While brother was pretty sure Jesus didn't want him to have vaginal intercourse before they were married, apparently JC is totally down with him getting good ass lovin' prior to the wedding night. I was baffled when she told me. I mean, the logic is just so fucking twisted, I still can't fully work it out. I'm guessing homeboy is just plain gay (let's consider the swords, the miniatures and the Ren Faire) and has found a nice girl to put up with it.  Though, since then, she's gotten only progressively angrier and angrier, so I am betting he's made her give up vag sex entirely. 

But you gotta figure... the actual wedding night?  The first Vag in the Bag? 

Hotdog down a motherfucking hallway, folks.

Before he is even two year old, Black Beauty some men hunting.  While leaping a stream, one of the huntsmen fell.  He and the horse were both badly injured.  A few days latter, Black Beauty saw a black carraige drawn by black horses move slowly toward the church.  The horse's rider had died.  Black Beauty never found out what happened to the horse.  This book is clearly trying to say that hunting for sport and not for food is bad.  This is only true to a certain extent.  We Christians are to be stewards of the earth.  Therefore, we should not kill anything unnecessarily.  However, in our day and age, people often carry this to far and instead of killing to much the do not kill anything.  This is also wrong.  Did not God tell us to eat meat?

Soon after the hunting accident Black Beauty is broken in.  This means that he was taught how to wear a saddle, a bit, and all the other necessary gear of a horse.  After he was broken in, Black Beauty was sold a had to leave his first home.  This was  only the beginning of his moves.  Throughout his busy life Black Beauty changed homes many times.  He meet good masters and bad.  A bad master nearly ruined him.  A kind horse, Black Beauty worked hard for his good masters and took ill treatment patiently. By the end of the book, Black Beauty, an old, tired horse, is bought by a kind mistress who promises never to sell him, but to treat in with care.

Black Beauty does give characteristics of humans to animals.  The horses in this story can think and talk to each other, and one horse, Black Beauty, can write a book.  However, this is not like some stories today in which animals talk to humans.  Some people think that the Bible is against giving any human attributes (reasoning, talking, writing, wearing cloths, etc.) to animals.  I am not sure exactly were I stand on this issue, but, as you can tell from the fact that I read this book, I do not think that the Bible is against giving animals human attributes.  If the Bible was against this, then why did God cause Balaam's donkey to talk to him?  I real life God caused an animal to talk.  Why can it not happen in fiction then?  As I said earlier, I am not certain what I think about this issue, and if someone would like to discuss it with me feel free to do so.

Then during a session in the inland ocean waters of New Hampshire, I was holding a thin man, a fellow a bit younger than myself, with both hands, tracking his whole body emotional releases, with my feet scuttling like a fiddler crab across the sands of the mudflats, when I just happened to step on top of a cluster of oyster beds.  I felt something go up in my foot like a razor-blade, but remained focused on the healing session.  I'd take care of it later.  Usually I work on the shores in the ocean in South Florida or in the Bahamas with clients where the sand is soft and supple and gentle to the feet--not so on a New England mudflat!

I felt a sudden feeling of disappointment because until then, the Crocs had been working great to siphon out the water and give my feet some freedom of movement to keep up with the power of the fellow's session. I began to feel the blood pouring from my foot.  Darn these Crocs! This never would have happened with my scuba boots, or at least, that was my hurried thought at the time.  I maintained my focus on the session, after all, I was on the clock!  I let the healing salt water pour into any cut that I suspected my foot to have.  But I couldn't take my foot out of the shoe because the tide was coming in from the outer ocean and the current was very strong.  I continued to calibrate the thin man's releases with the currents and the tide, with the air currents and sky above.

Breaking in "Crocs"

Although Crocs can have an enormous variety of uses--like flip flops--Crocs are not made for scuttling over sharp oyster beds.

When we both came out of the water, my client first, I was astonished to see how deep the cut was.  When he saw it he suddenly felt bad and apologized, but I assured him this was fine and not to worry.  There were three good sized cuts in the bottom of the Croc, and I managed to pull the tip of a shimmering oyster shell out of the cut closest to my toes.  Then I said, "If only I could recall my stitches lore."

"What can we do?" he asked.

"Nothing. Just say 'thank you.'"

A simple feeling of gratitude is good for the body, GREAT for healing.  I sent a silent request to the stem cells to go to work.  (See the recent Healing Our Cells issue in the CraniOcean.Calm Newsletter--available on-line for a limited time. - J.N.)  Immediately, the stem cells were enlisted to travel to the problem area and repair and finally heal the wound. (The trick with asking stem cells to go to work is to remember to tell them when to stop building back the tissue!  And they will.)

We changed shoes. I wore his black flip-flops and he wore the Crocs, sans oyster shell.  We walked back up a beautiful, green New Hampshire path to his car.  It was a deep cut, but stitches were quite unnecessary.

My point is, that when the wound had healed enough to wear the Crocs again--out of the water--I found that the Croc that had the cuts in it to be more comfortable that the Crocs that had no cuts in it.  After awhile, I caught on, and what I did was this: I took out a rather sharp knife and duplicated the cuts from the oyster bed, just along the surface really, in the other Croc! Now, both Crocs are starting to feel dreamy under my feet.

If you have any better ideas on how to break in Crocs superfast, feel free to leave a comment here, thank you!

(Oh yeah the stem cells, when asked very respectfully out of the water, did a terrific job and very fast!  The foot is completely healed--I can't tell which one the oyster shell fancied then!)

When Life Gives You Lemons, Make Lemonade :)

i think part of the fault for my poor boot fit is my somewhat high ankle bones.  but part of it is purely my fault.  bont's measurement chart put me at size 8/41, but i wouldn't believe them since i hadn't worn an 8 since early in high school.  but now my boots are 5/8ths or 3/4 inch longer than my foot and fit too loosely.  if i can find some money in a couple months i may have a laser-scan last made and get custom boots.  the money part is a significant "if" though.

i plan to review the boots at the end of a month (about 200 miles), and again after 3 months.  i'll post them here and on kathie fry's skatelog.com.

i tried moving the frames out on my right heel today, but it felt so wrong i changed it back in less than a mile.  i may try moving my right toe end around a little again.  left foot feels right.

Few roles are as integral to an office as that of the office manager. Responsible for circulating information throughout an organization, as well as coordinating the efforts of vendors, management and support, office managers ensure everyone is working in tandem toward the company's overall success. Could you be up for the task?

An office manager's job description often includes pricing office supplies, managing payroll, controlling petty cash, supervising support staff and interviewing job applicants. An office manager must exercise sound judgment every day, and any lapse may mean termination.

Consider the People

Equipment isn't the only thing that needs regular maintenance and support in an organization. A large part of an office manager's job is motivating and coordinating others to ensure everyone is working together productively toward a common goal.

“The trick to being a good office manager is to earn people's respect,” says Bergen. This means your staff and managers should know that they can count on you in a pinch to do the right thing for everybody, time after time. Sometimes this translates into standing up for what you know is right, even if a fellow employee -- or your boss -- disagrees with your decision.

“Your reputation is everything,” Bergen explains.

Immediate Gratification

While an office manager often works under great pressure because her responsibilities are so great in scope, her satisfaction level is high, too. In a 2004 survey conducted by the International Association of Administrative Professionals (IAAP), office managers reported that being able to see the results of their labor reflected in increased productivity and office efficiency immediately is what they liked best about their job.

The Ideal Office Manager

Jack Deal, a behavioral psychologist specializing in business issues, compiled the following list of must-have skills for the ideal office manager.

• Top-notch computer skills.
• Excellent phone demeanor.
• Verbal Skills: If an officer manager can't speak well, what kind of impression will she project? In many companies, foreign-language fluency is also an asset.
• Good Written Skills: The ability to use proper grammar, syntax and logic when writing is crucial.
• Good Organizational Skills: Not being able to find or access important information efficiently can hurt a business.
• Leadership Qualities: Office managers should be able to supervise others and have a willingness to use but not misuse power.
• A Good Work Ethic: Showing up on time and staying until the work is complete is also important.
• Team-Playing Skills: The ability to share information where relevant and help make improvements.

Breaking In

If you're an administrative assistant interested in becoming an office manager, check with your human resources department for any related in-house training programs available. According to the IAAP, many large firms offer training and professional development courses to help prepare you for office management.

The Self-Taught Manager

Admins can also develop managerial skills on their own, and many pick up these skills on the job, according to Annette Dubrouillet, president and owner of Continuum in Springfield, Virginia.

A consultant, speaker and personal coach who works regularly with administrative professionals, Dubrouillet advises admins to develop self-empowerment skills. “Admins have to be responsible for their own professional development, their own mental health within their jobs and their own skills, whether through networking, educational seminars or finding a coach,” she says.

How I broke into the games industry

by Larry Charles Jr.

Brief Back-story: When I was 5 years old if you asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I would reply "Doctor". When I turned 6 my mother bought me a Nintendo and ruined my plans of being a doctor for good. I love video games and have always wanted to make them, regardless of whatever else I should have been focusing on.

Hello fellow BGD's. My name is Larry Charles, Jr. and I currently work as a production assistant at Obsidian Entertainment. Now I know you expect to hear "hard work and dedication will take you anywhere", which is true but it takes a bit more than that to get into the video games industry. I want to share with you my advice on getting through the preverbal "door" of the video game industry, so hopefully you can make it to the party too!

Know what you want, but be realistic: I cannot stress how important this is. There are a lot of people who think that their love for playing games is all they need to get through a college game art or design program. A love for playing games is only half the battle, and relying solely on this will only make you a pretty passionate game tester. You have to also have a love for the creation of games, specifically for the role you wish to fill. The realism I ask you to have is for your goals and humility. If your drawing is terrible, that does not mean you can't wish to be a concept artist. What it does mean is prepare to face the fact that in order to be a concept artist you will have to dedicate ALL of your free time to furthering your drawing ability. To be a concept artist (especially if you can't already draw) you have to get better than the people who want to be concept artists who already draw all day long. You have to be realistic and not shelter yourself from the truth. Please do not waste the time of the developer by sending them a crap art test, because I am sure they won't waste their time sending you a response.

Know the industry and its companies: If you want to be a part of the game industry then do your research. You should keep a basic knowledge of who's who in the video game industry, even if it's just companies and what they are doing. This knowledge will serve you well trust me. A fool applies for a job knowing nothing of the company he has applied to. This may sound obvious but you have no idea how many companies get mail merge resume's because a guy / girl just needs a job to pay bills. This reason alone has honed three point shot to the trash can. I don’t mean to be mean but honestly, would you want someone on your team, who is only in it for money and not the passion? A person who could care less if the game ships or not, as long as they can make their car payment. I didn't think so.

Secondly, lets say you land yourself an interview. Most companies will grant you the benefit of the doubt and assume you know a thing or two about them so trying to impress them with every detail or fact will make you look like a fan boy. What you can do though is know your companies main competitors and make references to that. Or know what companies that the higher ups used to work for and "what great games they made". I believe if you want brownie points, you get more for knowing the past than the present.

Network: If you take one thing from this entire writing, please take this and read it twice. Networking is the most important part about starting / staying in any career, especially this one. A great way to find a way in is know someone who's in. A better way to find a way in is know 10 people who are in. Shake hands, smile and make friends at any trade show you get to go to. If you aren’t going to game industry trade shows, get yourself a ticket to the next one. The most popular industry trade show that is work related is GDC http://www.gdconf.com/ Every year the big wigs all the way down to college graduates go to the Game Developers Conference to learn, to share and to party! Go to GDC with about 100 business cards. You don’t want to be that guy who gives away a card to every other guy, but at least have enough to be sure your days there will be covered. Visit the trade show floors, get an idea of what companies are there. Although you will likely interface with hiring staff on the show floors, you still have a great chance of getting feedback there. Make sure you get yourself into a party afterwards. You will have the best chances of meeting game industry pro's and starting a new relationship with them over a beer and some good chatter in the evening.

Raise the bar: Now back to things you can do on your own. Me asking you to raise the bar is me hoping that you only intend on getting better. Never do just enough. Never get to a point where a company see's that you have reached your limit and no longer have potential. You should always be ready to learn new technology and open to new changes that you will have to make to keep your competitive edge. Being the first one to work and the last one to leave will get you noticed, especially if you are cranking out good work and not just taking very long to do your work. I believe you have to set the standards of your artwork / design at industry level not foot in the door level. If you don’t have a professional resume, you will need industry level work to get your foot in the door! It is very probably that you will be trained, but it is highly unlikely you will be taught!

Hungry, Helpful, Humble: Lastly I have these three H words for you.

Hungry: If you don’t have the hunger, the passion, and desire to make video games then please don’t. The games industry will get rough and require a lot of your time. You may have to work late and you may not get paid for it. Having a bad attitude because you don’t want to be making games at 11:00 at night will only worsen the mood of the people who do want to make games even if they have to stay late. Also, there is a high burnout rate in the game industry and if you didn’t want to be here you surely wont after a crunch or two.

Helpful: Being helpful will help you a lot actually. I can tell you that I learn a lot about software when I am teaching it to someone else. Beginners often ask me questions about things that I was just about to forget. They help you reinforce efficient practices and keep your proficiency in that software package up.

Humble: Please please please be humble about your work! If your boss begins to tell you something that he believes to be of benefit to you... do not interrupt him and say I KNOW (this applies to your colleagues as well) Just appreciate the fact that they are interested in helping you. It will only take two minutes of your time to save yourself from looking like an arrogant prick instead of an eager employee. Also these people will be less likely to want to offer advice and expect you to "know". Now you will be missing out on information you might not have known also might be held accountable for NOT knowing it.

1) the title quote is from a serbian writer, relocated to calgary, david albahari. he gave a talk+reading tonight at SFU and i went to hear him, with the SFU people; it was supposed to be on narrative/memory/(?identity?), that stuff. it ended up in my head as about language mainly, because this person keeps writing in serbian to this day, and his novels are translated by other people into english - while i'm actually bringing myself, as i 'speak', to converting everything i write into english, down to this useless blog. poate n-a inceput asa, nici nu stiu cum a inceput, de ce conversatiile noastre in engleza amestecata cu romana erau ok the way they were. uneori incep sa scriu in engleza si pe urma continuu asa. daca incep in romansa voi continua in romana un pic, dar nu VREAU sa incep in romana. in majoritatea timpului aici pe blog o fac doar pentru mascare de barfa, ceea ce e usor murdarel...sa tampesc daca pricep. in acelasi timp, daca cineva imi impune engleza in afara necesitatii (nimeni in afara de ovidiu n-ar fi asa de deplasat, admit) fac urat si imi cer romana inapoi. ideea e sa am voie sa fac ce vreau cu ea. si nu vreau sa scriu 'artistic' in ea, bine?? vreau sa barfesc si sa ma ciorovaiesc in ea. n-am vrut ca asta sa fie asa de lung si incalcit, oricum, e pt ca mi-e dor de ef si ea a ridicat pt prima data aici explicit problema: de ce nu scrii in romana? raspunsul clar si imediat e, pt ca vreau sa fiu scriitoare internationala si am inceput direct in engleza ca sa pot controla asta. ca sa folosesc engleza ca native writing language. evident, ca sa incepi ceva trebe sa omori un pic din altceva. but that just goes without saying. when i decided i must have been 17.

what is about revenge in all of this? it's the same theory as 'pain is one's misunderstanding', pretty much. (albahari read a fantasy of revenge on canadians, a vision one of his characters has of canada burning - like the former Yugoslavia did). you want revenge against whom? you want revenge against people who are content in not understanding you, because, in spite of their gentle intentions, THEY DON"T NEED to understand you. you need to understand them, because it's their world, pretty much.  so not only MY misunderstanding causes pain but 'the other''s too.

un lucru care mi-a placut mult la albahari a fost cat de distinct e  in tot ce a citit umorul sarbesc si 'logica' sarbeasca. spun asta ca non-experta, dar continuu sa cred ca is niste chestii discernibile. nici un canadian n-ar putea scrie asa. (e parte din pret.) trebe sa merg acuma sa caut niste povestiri scrise de el, online in geist. which brings me to my 2nd point: 2) richard ford. oh my god i'm in love!!!!! this man is the best short story maker i've read in....at this point if i say 'ever' it doesn't qualify as a lie. honestly. it's so great to read good stuff after lame stuff (or after writing lame stuff :( )

3) apparently i'm going to skagit river poetry festival, in washington state, for 3 or 4 days. with lora basically, i guess it was her idea overall - and with SFU ppl, yael included. i've not even started to get excited, only today i had it confirmed that i'm actually going.

someone helped me file my taxes - which is pure pain in the ass, and would cost an immigrant hours of her life and hair torn off, honestly; even if most of what had to be done was put a 0 (= my income) in about 50 boxes.

someone typed an improvised resume for me, and waited in the street til i went in and left it on the manager's desk.

people i met at some social gathering message me on facebook and email me and invite me to free events. (i lose count of inventorying, and i know answering emails back is not enough to qualify as kindness).

yes i got two hugs today, from someone i know. it's someone who hugs people on a general basis, but in my most rigid frame of mind it wouldn't occur to me to avoid her when she comes forward, with her arms spread - yes giving me the space to signal no.

easter is the crappiest holiday ever, and i'm glad no one here knows it's my easter. theirs went by pretty mundanely. somehow i feel compelled to send a shoutout to accidental acquaintances and ask them to come for a weekend picnic on wreck beach, or at point grey. (not mentioning easter.) but i know i won't, cause it's just not me. or is that the reason?

the last time i gave someone something (except for time) must have been on another continent, for sure. except for the spare change, which only makes me more ashamed. (you have the kindness, or you don't- probably?)

waiting for lora in front of the army&navy on carrall and abbott (that street is becoming a huge part of something i'm not sure of), a woman stopped by me, and waited too, for a while. blond, ponytailed, the lot, in a top and the normal tracksuit pants. her face a bit splotchy, but nothing too strident. and then i fucking saw her arm for a second. the rest of the time she was there, i tried to look at her, but not at the arm. i tried to not ignore her. this is not an apology.

with lora and the bikes, we crossed peoples pigeon park through the middle. i waited to turn onto cordova before i said, with fury, "in my country at least there are many more roofs than here". is this hypocrisy?

back on my west van street, with my backpack, a father and two about 4 year-old daughters cross my way. "daddy, look!" i am an amazement all of a sudden. "she's got a backpack!" - "yes, just like you!" he says to his youngest, who indeed has a mini pack, and she turns around to show me. "hello, little backpack person", i say, and shake her hand. her sister comes forward: "i've got a doll" she tells me, very solemn, and so i shake hands with her and the doll, smile once more and move on. "where is she going, daddy?" - "to her home. just like we're going to our home."

"everyone is essentially alone."

in primul rand, prin natura intrunirii (= lansare de roman viitor celebru, cu potential de giller sau governor's award) se cheama ca toata societatea 'literara' a vancouverului era de fata (sau, dupa cum a numit steven fenomenul, "a free bar can do wonders"). imediat am constatat, surprinsa, ca in afara de ef, (si de sonia z - sandra-elena) toti oamenii de care imi pasa cat de cat in vancouver erau in camera aia. plus cativa de care nu-mi pasa neaparat, dar ar exista potential -- = niste flacai de la SFU. erau lora, si yael, si sonja , john, joel si bruce. as vrea sa dau niste detalii hazoase, dar ma voi intrerupe just a bit pt ca constat ca am uitat ceva foarte important.

[13.04. duminica, la sonia z. am ras ca idioata, cu elena si sandra, facand poze la niste jucarii pe care le-am gasit eu pe un dulap de-al soniei. pentru prima data de cand am sosit in van. m-am simtit ok cu alte persoane. nu ok in sensul ca imi place de oamenii aia, sau ca ei incearca sa ma faca sa ma simt bine - din astea am mai avut o groaza. nu ok ca si cu elizabeth, unde nu ma pot descotorosi de tot de ideea ca e un fel de eva's shadow passing...ci pur si simplu. si nu a fost toata seara, evident, restul serii a fost placut si normal vancouver-like, cu branza, vin, fructe, chips&dips, stuff, sonia cantand la chitara - o sa va dau sa ascultati "the giantess" la vara pana va saturati. dar in minutele alea in care radeam ca nebuna, cu celelalte nebune, si efectiv trebuia sa plecam acasa ca femeia avea avion a 2a zi, dar tot nu ne lasam duse pt ca radeam prea bine...ca am trecut toate prin politete, si prin jena, si prin bunavointa, la nivelul de 5 ani, e incredibil. e ceva de tinut minte. in onoarea momentului, m-am dus acasa pe jos, ascultand inregistrarea proasta de la "the giantess" pe drum non-stop; e un cantec de-al soniei despre circus freaks. e ...frumos.]

si sunt deprimata. efectiv nu stiu ce sa fac. evident ca in acelasi timp stiu ca o sa mearga mai departe (circul/showul/tot), ca e doar lene, dezamagire, sentimentul inutilitatii blah blah. si pe urma brusc ma trezesc intr-o camera cu multi oameni, free bar (just 3 glasses of wine tonight, i swear), si incredibil fac frumos si stabilesc sa ma intalnesc cu o multime dintre ei in vacanta, sa bem/scriem impreuna, faze. hm. evident ca am cumparat un exemplar din roman, dar nici nu am incercat sa-l salut pe steven, si-asa trageau tot soiul de oameni de el din toate partile...mi-a placut ca am apucat sa vb cu john despre cum s-a gatat scoala si ce cursuri ne alegem la anu (sper sa fiu colega la craft cu el) si cu bruce despre novella lui (si acuma tre sa ne intalnim la cafea ca sa schimbam critiques). joel la un moment dat era cu o colega de-a lui (de la chapters?) si o sfatuia sa agate tipi, pe care el ii clasifica in "obama people" = fresh& innovative, si "hillary people" = seasoned &experienced. (inca mai rad de la faza aia.) caleb se chinuia sa bea 24 de beri, ca sa se scoata de chinul pe care cursul lui steven l-a constituit pt el (cand am plecat era la 13, da tineti cont ca sticlele canadiene-s mici).

next, SFU. n-am vorbit mult cu lora, dar e lejer ca ne vedem la concertul lui ef. yael tocmai se muta si si-a dat catelul la un shelter ca nu-l mai suporta (si m-a sfatuit sa vizitez bostonul! e primul om care se ofera sa m-ajute cu decizia). sonja e fenomenala - am mai zis si inainte cand am cunoscut-o la beehive: ce femeie fantastica. e foarte usor sa discut cu ea, si ma aventurez sa spun lucruri destul de aberante, pe care nu stiu cum le-as verbaliza in fata ...elenei, de exemplu, sau sandrei. (de fapt e aceeasi chestie de care ziceam: ca mi-e mai usor cu oameni care nu-mi sunt colegi, pt ca o vad ca "om" si nu ca "student la UBC", deci cadrul de referinta se schimba total, de fapt devine global). de genul, ii explicam sonjei cum e cu comunismul la noi, si cum lucra taica-meu "la firma"  - ideea nu e CE anume ii spuneam, sunt lucruri pe care ma gasesc in pozitia de a le spune si respune canadienilor, ci verva pe care o provoaca in mine faptul ca discut "cu ea" - making me actually feel that i'm funny and interesting. si, cu toata rusinea, am dat-o pe politica, si ii explicam ce implicata sunt in fenomen. sonja, la inceput sceptica: nu, zice ea, ma tem ca obama o sa piarda; ca oamenii in cabina de vot, la toamna...or sa se trezeasca fata in fata cu spaimele lor familiare - (exact ce am zis eu in ianuarie, in prima saptamana in care a inceput sa-mi pese). pe urma zic, si atunci, tu ce faci, nu te duci la vot? (sonja e americanca - pt povestea vietii ei trebe un episod separat) si ea, pai ba da, o sa ma duc, de fapt am votat deja...ca de fapt sa aflu ca  votase pt prima data intr-o primary, de cand are drept de vot incoace= 20 de ani +. ha! si se ascunde ! (nu ca nu i-am promis ca-i aduc si ei un tricou obama, din state, ca sa le putem purta impreuna pe strada:). 

in mod oficial is destul de alcoolizata. dovada clara e faptul ca expun o aroganta destul de...vizibila, o incredere destul de mare (in special avand in vedere dezbaterea de ieri) in sansele candidatului meu, si in principiu faptul over all ca am inceput sa scriu despre lansarea cartii lui steven, and i ended up with obama again...and i still think it's funny. and i do think it's funny ce minune e viata mea, in absenta oricarui "lucru" de facut, a oricarui rezultat de pe urma unui an de 'studiu', a formularelor de taxe pe care nu le stiu completa, a duzinilor de emailuri la care mi-e lehamite sa raspund(lehamite cuplata cu groaza, pt ca unele sunt mandatory), in ciuda invidiei si dezorientarii si migrenei si singuratatii acute, si paraliziei oricaror ramasite de atasamente, i do think it's so fucking funny, everything is.

Switched dining room light with 13 Watt mini-Spiral CFL.

Left pocket-muffin on table.

Don't make me come to your house...

Instead of rehashing the training, education, and work required to break in, I'll leave it to me friend Bobbin Beam who says it better than I can in this series of blog posts.

voiam numai sa bifez ultimele amanunte dragute. cum ar fi ca mi-a sosit tricoul cu "team obama '08" si ma antrenez sa il port in public, in felul urmator: mai intai le spun oamenilor despre el; apoi, intr-o camera cu oameni carora deja le-am spus, imi dau jos cele 2 pulovere care acopereau tricoul, flash it a second, dupa care imi iau un jerseu peste. dupa vro 20 de minute, daca mai intra cineva in camera, ma deschei discret la jerseu si incerc sa tac din gura.

sapt trecuta, well...au fost mini-chefuri peste mini-chefuri. cumva nu-ti vine sa crezi ca toata sarada se va gata la timp, cu toate punctele din program atinse - and yet, and fucking yeeeet! da, am trimis ultima povestire pt galloway in ultimul moment, ca sa nu comenteze nime ca nu am 4 texte in workshop (desi puteam sa sed calma la 3) (si ce am trimis e un jaf). la ultimul curs galloway am avut un ice cream cake imens, din care cam 1/3 s-a topit fiindca nime nu mai putea baga...quite the shame.  intre timp pe formularul meu oficial de scheduling anul 2 scrie ca supervisorul meu pt teza e maureen medved, pe care exista sanse clare sa n-o vad cat traiesc (mai ales daca fundul meu nu sta in canada dupa absolvire...dar sa nu ne facem ganduri negre in plus...)

luni la ultimul curs de magazine, michelle w ne-a adus sushi si salata, pe care le-am curatat ff prompt...marti a fost cheful semestrial organizat de pat rose, desi de data asta a avut niste conflicte de orar asa ca a iesit half-assed...sau no, nu stiu de ce nu a fost asa big affair, dar s-ar putea pt ca principala petrecere a departamentului e programata sapt viit in 16, pt cei care gata anul 2 (sa nu-ti vina sa crezi: kellee, mike, meghan, sheryda, dave, kathy para - daca un an in plus de MFA face asta din cineva, wow again. ii semi-idolatrizez pe oameni astia oricum, they are so good, and so PROMINENT i guess...tot ce fac ei se potriveste intr-un profil/contur, e clar, fara ezitare. nu ca noi. am o teorie despre asta, sper sa-mi amintesc mai jos de ea, s-o detaliez.) ma intorc la cheful lui pat: tema era "dress up as a celebrity or bring a funny hat". eu am purtat palariuta mea galbena :) si am citit o poezie. marele premiu al serii a fost o poza cu pat rose costumata in gwen stefani (am explicat ca e pt giulia, si pat a fost ff incantata sa sada de model - adevarul, pt cine nu s-a prins inca, e ca ne e o frica teribila de pat rose la toti, in special celora ca mine, cu musca pe caciula in privinta deadlineurilor et co.)

partea si mai pozitiva out of pat's party a fost ca post that am ajuns acasa la sonia z. in kits, la un pahar de vin. si ma duc iara maine - de bun ce-a fost vinul:) - e o going away gathering, ca sonia mere in vacanta in mexico la pablo (sigh). anyway. i just like her a lot. iar miercuri, toata clasa de poetry ne-am dus la rhea la pizza. asta a fost foarte fun. eu mi-am dus iia lui maica-mea, fiindca vorbisem cu rhea de ii si imi parea rau ca nu mai am cand sa i-o arat (nu pot concepe ca n-o sa mai fac cu rhea la anu...sau cu bryan...sau cu steven -- amu plang...). si rhea are si ea o iie, cusuta cu rosu, pe care i-a cumparat-o taica-sau cand era mica si a facut el un tur de europa. anyway: asa ca am sezut amandoua tata seara cu iile pe noi (eu nu am poze, dar vor exista cateva...one day) o tara mai grav a fost cand ne-am apucat sa cantam. sonia z. are niste cantece (la chitara ei, si diverse alte instrumente) despre diversi oameni ce lucra la circ - i.e. the sword swallower; si stie niste tom waits.  (si inca si mai si - tom waits a fost, acu 2 sapt, la firma unde lucra sonia, ca sa aranjeze decoruri pt un set pt nus ce concert...:(( si a sezut acolo o ora!!!! in a related story, erin jura ca l-a vazut pe leonard cohen tot recent, la o piesa de teatru downtown). evident ca s-a cantat si cohen, duh (am fost destul de competitiva la texte, but i'm getting rusty) si rhea a bagat niste bessie smith renditions...nu mai stiu. eu le-am cantat colinda mea si "cand s-o-mpartit norocu"- duh again.

no bun. joi, dupa ultimul curs galloway, launch party a revistelor efectuate de noi, cu readinguri si tot tacamul, la koerner's. eu bataiam din picior pe tot parcursul, si imi citeam proaspat primitele critiques la a 4a povestire...(steven mi-a recomandat sa tai vro 1/3 din ea ca s-o fac clara; si joel zice, da e pacat, ca sunt paragrafele alea asa de frumoase... si steven "so what's new? show me something written by carmen that isn't beautiful! my problem is, does it work?" haha. in sfarsit s-au lamurit cum trebuiesc eu criticata, thank you guys.). dupa readinguri, toata lumea care nu avea portfolio deadline a doua zi (adica majoritatea poporului) s-a dus la baut, iar noi poetele ne-am carat agale la bus, urandu-i pe toti.

in cursul noptii de joi spre vineri, in timp ce se presupunea ca scriu o book proposal, singurele idei ce reuseau sa-mi vina erau sau despre cum o sa rescriu piesa pt bryan, sau despre cum o sa repar povestirea nr. 4. iar intr-un final glorios, marsand spre deadline cu cele 7 poezii pe jumate neresuscitate, am reusit sa invat cum sa folosesc o copy card la biblio, sa fur o cookie box, stiti de care, din aia de tabla - care zacea abandonata pe-acolo si ii pusesem gand rau de vro 3 zile, si sa fur (imprumut) o carte din lounge, pe care am citit-o ieri in timp ce nu dormeam. da o gat iute, ca-s o repezita. eh, si am predat magnifica opera direct in mana rheei la 5:15, dupa care m-am tarat spre bus. inca mai sunt in starea aia (i.e. nu-mi trebe nimica, nu vad de ce as face o miscare in plus, ilustrata prin faptul ca ieri am stat la computer in picioarele goale vro 4 ore de lene sa-mi iau sosete, si nu am iesit sa-mi iau de mancare, preferand sa supravietuiesc pe 1 punga de taitei). sper ca m-oi aduna. si sper ca e soare azi, ca extra incentive (desi si ieri o fost, si tot nu m-am urnit). 

teoria mea despre oameni: e mult mai usor sa declari despre cineva ca e talentat sau ca ti-e prieten daca nu il vezi on a day-to-day basis. in principiu e mai usor sa te gandesti la sau sa-ti pese de ei. si nu pt ca nu le observi defectele etc etc...ci pt ca in mintea ta( a mea cel putin) ei reprezinta a "getting out of one's way" - si asta e cel mai important intr-o viata.

bine, deja faptul ca dorm aberant de vro 2 saptamani in mod 'regulat' e intrat in program, si de fapt e o banalitate: se intampla in fiecare sesiune, right? no, miercuri seara am fost la festival - au fost elena, si kristjanna, am stat cu ele si maya (m-am tinut de scaun, nu de mana mayei in timpul piesei, ceea ce reprezinta un progres remarcabil - zic eu) - no, toata lumea evident s-a dat pe spate ca ce fain, eu eram indignata ca aia de la lumini mi-or lasat o lampa aprinsa pe scena, maya ca sa ma consoleze imi spunea cate alte cue-uri au gresit in celelalte piese (ceea ce ma consola fix deloc), etc. finally, maya mi-a dat un thank-you card (!!!!), si dupa show am plecat cu elena - vreau sa zic ca aproape ne-am dus sa ne plimbam pe wreck beach, dar pana la urma am mers pe la casi, ca eu aveam de scris o povestire in noaptea aia. ceea ce din nou nu s-a intamplat, pt ca brusc pe la 3 a.m. (i've been told it's an ominous time of the night) m-a apucat groaza ca nu stiam ce sa citesc la 'locution' si am inceput sa-mi selectez texte. dupa ce am facut vro 2 versiuni de copy-paste-uri din diverse bucati de rant din draft 1 (voiam sa citesc faza anti-teaching, aia care culmineaza cu "you do not exist", pt cine tine minte), m-am resemnat ca totusi voi incerca bucata cu pixul si ambasada SUA...decat ca nu eram ff entuziasmata de concluzie, plus ca tocmai imi mancase 3 ore de posibil somn/scris....anyway. starea in care m-am adus (si nu-s sigura ca am iesit din) se poate descifra din the mock-biography pe care mi-am scris-o pt 'locution':

"Carmen Pintea came to Canada from Romania seven months
ago, to enroll in an MFA in Creative Writing at UBC,
with the sole purpose of showing Canadians what
writing in English really is about. Now she's toning
it down a bit.
She dreams in English, though still with an accent,"

anyway, si asa in loc sa scriu povestirea m-am resemnat ca o sa imi citesc macar textele si ma duc la clasa....decat ca, din cauza ca suntem in criza de timp si discutam 4 povestiri/curs, intreaga chestie ma deprima de moarte, irrespective of galloway being ...his lazy self. asa ca la sfarsitul cursului deja ceream o bazooka. niste (cativa) indivizi de genul shannon incercau sa ma calmeze cu faze de genul "we're all having ups and downs and everyone's under pressure these days, but i'm sure your reading is gona be fine" etc. bruce m-a luat in povesti si finally m-a dus pe blanca la masina lui (o masina draguta, din '85) si pe main la un restaurant, si am vorbit politica si m-am oprit din plans, asa ca by locution time things were ok-ish destul incat sa citesc in mod decent. the usual outcome - lumea s-a dat pe spate etc. dar n-au sunat fals in mod evident, asa ca aleg sa-i cred. i-am explicat lui john toata faza, si el a zis ca trebe neaparat sa merg la baut post-locution, si ne-am dus la legion. e un obicei al MFA-ului nostru, dar nu tineam neaparat sa ma integrez in privinta aia, si pana acuma reusisem sa evit . e un loc unde merg galloway si chong sa ...nu stiu, se imbete si sa joace biliard? e asa un fel de trademark in the community, ceea ce pe mine ma dispera. mostly the hype around it. well i caved in last night.

no, si am stat cu o bere, si cu niste oameni draguti, discutand politica si mass-media, si imigrare, si masturbare, si computer vs. masina de scris. (honestly, those were the topics.) dupa care m-a dus john pana pe broadway, ca sa putem barfi despre stilurile literare ale colegilor si despre regizorii din festival (i.e. crush-ul meu pe john cooper).

in afara de faptul ca azi e premiera piesei (adica in vro 2 ore) si ma rog sa le functioneze la aia luminile si muzica pe scena, ca actritele 'mele' is OK, vreau sa spun ca tocmai mi-am marcat niste puncte de good karma (i hope) luni seara, jucand la dress rehearsal in locul uneia din actritele mele, care n-a putut veni pt ca avea bilete la un concert!!! nu ca nu era treaba ei sa fie acolo, in timp ce eu nu-s obligata nici sa merg la repetitii...de fapt eu ca o tantalaie ce-s am considerat ca a-i tine locul e un efort normal pt piesa, pana ce am povestit asta la Stage, si joel a decis ca merit a full sympathy hug pe tema asta. (also, "what band is playing?" - "well, did i ask? i assumed it was classical music." - "if it's less than the foo fighters you gotta slap her, really.) asta ca ocupare de timp in contextul in care INCA nu am predat a 4a povestire pt fiction (dar am la activ 3 incercari=nopti esuate pe tema asta; avantajul fiind ca am aprox. 40 de pagini de reciclat la vara, dar de care in prezent mi-e efectiv greata) SI trebe sa scriu 10 poezii in urmatoarele 6 zile. ceea ce nu se va intampla decat printr-un miracol (chiar is curioasa), given the fact that there's the festival, and locution, and obama keeps getting endorsed by a lot of small local officials, asa ca eu pierd vremea tot citind articole...in loc sa se-adune toti o data si sa bage un group endorsement ...fuck...it's my graduation on the line here...

oricum, dress rehearsalul a fost absolut fascinant, plus ca john cooper m-a complimentat pt citit de pe foaie (i am blushing!!) si a trebuit sa fiu smartass si sa-i spun ca stiam replicile pe de rost, dar cand tre sa mai si ma misc pe scena brusc devine dificil sa le spun. un fel de 'don't quit your day job' moment for me, if i did have a day job. upside 1, i got to see backstage, si sa vad cum fac aia cu sound cues, si e super fain. upside 2, azi ma opreste o tipa in SUB "i saw you reading, your play is great"...eu, nenorocita, tot nu stiam la ce reading m-a vazut, dar era o tipa de la tech care ma stia de la rehearsal. asa ca incerc sa ma calmez pe tema ca eu am facut ce trebuia, is numa 15 minute, si ii ok. or sa fie acolo o groaza de oameni din MFA, si evident john si bryan...

colac peste pupaza, i was workshopped today in stage. piesa mea cu nunta, un monstru de piesa - am comprimat-o pt first draft si tot au iesit 45 de pagini, = 70 de minute, zice bryan. cine stie detalii despre proiectul meu (giulia :))  poate deduce si ca mi-am pus dinadins workshopul de ziua lui ovidiu, partly true. e foarte ciudat in workshop, trebuie sa scriu o data exclusiv despre asta, cum in momentul ala obtii o claritate si perspectiva asupra a ce ai vrut sa faci si ce-a iesit...evident ca e washed-out fata de in imaginatia mea, dar ma bucur asa de mult cand lumea intelege ce am vrut. bryan a zis ca daca imi transform americanul din piesa conveniently in canadian, nu vede de ce nu ar fi pusa in scena for real, intr-un context de teatru normal, nu Brave New Play Rites...plus ca no, e funny sa fii sarcastica si sa atribui asta personajelor: mult mai mult decat in fiction.

'decat ca' in momentul de fata, all drained out si programandu-mi nesomn pt urmatoarele 30 de ore, culminand cu Locution (care-i maine sara, si inca nu stiu ce citesc) se pare ca am de scris poezii. un alt lucru ingrijorator de comic e ce subiecte ajung sa abordez pt poeziile respective, e.g am scris despre bolul pe care am vrut sa-l fur in krasny zvraty in praga, iar az-noapte scriam despre cum am cumparat cercei in madrid in fata la 'reina sofia'. un alt subiect de viitoare poezie e fix ce vreau sa detaliez mai jos:

(asta a fost deja acu vro 2 sapt, in sambata de pasti, ultima zi in care cred ca am dormit ca lumea, fara sa fiu racita sau hartuita de tot soiul de deadlines and shit) am fost cu elizabeth si prietena ei juliet in surrey(=21 km away from central Van) sa vedem o 'music installation' (tocmai constat ca ii greu sa scriu o poezie despre asta. honestly!). doresc doar sa subliniez urmatoarele:  a)surrey e in directia seattle; in momentul in care eram pe autostrada, juliet stresata ca nu se incadreaza corect, ca o sa pierdem intersectia - yep, we did - si am vazut panouri cu 'seattle-210', am crezut ca tampesc de cap efectiv. what music installation?? i want to go to Nirvana city!! evident ca le-am spus, si astea radeau de mine, dar zau, cred ca eram hyperventillating, ceva de genul ca in barcelona pe ramblas cand am aflat ca IRA a depus armele. no anyway, nu ca ele n-ar fi vrut sa mearga si ca nu am continuat sa glumim pe tema asta, dar nime nu avea pasaport asupra sa, so there.

b) cateii: am un respect din ce in ce mai mare pt house-trained dogs. pe langa namila lui elizabeth, gyuri (cute name for a dog, but the dog up on its hind legs is bigger than me by far) exista fetita mai mica si civilizata a lui juliet: ginger (eram cu ef si lora, facand salata pt cina, si ef zice, well juliet's coming, she's bringing ginger, la care eu: "now i feel lousy, i'm the only one who didn't bring anything", cue to laughter). anyway, am avut o colaborare fructuoasa cu ginger pe parcursul expeditiei, ea a stat la poze si s-a atasat de geanta mea. si e ff cuminte, se cere la baie pe un ton categoric (ef zice ca gyuri se poate tine pana la momentul potrivit :) ). dupa surrey art gallery ne plimbam pe-acolo pe langa un raulet, si era plin de oameni cu catei, of course. (canada!). femeile mele erau foarte in afara elementului lor, slight disdain - y'know, the suburbs, they are awful. and i see the point, they pretty much are. e de speriat sa vezi un kilometru de case cu etaj, aratand EXACT LA FEL, care nu is blocuri. surrey e east indian neighborhood, dar a fost farm territory, si se vad parti saracute de la ambele, i.e. copii cu turbane de-ale ciudate si bling-bling, case prapadite de carton, fosta ferma necajita cu gramezi de balegar aferente. e o tara bland si depressing, if you only pass through. live there??? se sparie gandu!

c) finallllyyyy. instalatia. deci era asa: o sala intunecoasa, si un cerc de 40 de boxe puse pe cate-un picior. si din fiecare boxa vine cate-o voce individuala. si impreuna aceste voci canta o ...chestie veche, muzica religioasa englezeasca= in limba latina, scrisa in secolul 16. evident ca vocile is contemporane. motul de frisca de pe tort fiind ca tu ca...vizitator ai acces atat la fiecare voce in parte cat si  la ideea de cor. daca sedeai in mijloc, se auzea cum se aude normal intr-o catedrala. daca te plimbai, era ca si cum te-ai duce in catedrala printere coristi in timp ce ei canta. inca mai deliberez daca toata faza e o pretentie/moft, sau o chestie geniala. stiu ca in momentul respectiv eram, like, ok...? aha. oh. i see. no i actually don't exactly see... normal ca bucata muzicala in sine era faina, but come on. si stateam cu urechea la o voce, si ma uitam la oamenii aia cum migrau din boxa in boxa si mintea mea urla "oh-my-god-it's-your-Easter-people! go to a church, or go to a concert, but do something wholehearted! not this!" pe urma m-am tot gandit si personal stiu ca m-am simtit ca in prado cand am fost a 2a oara, dar pe de alta parte perceptiile mele sunt ciudate as is,asa ca chiar nu stiu. faptul ca inca ma mai gandesc la chestie presupun ca e de bine. habar n-am, cred ca va spun dupa ce iese poezia, sau nu.

(Ruido de un televisor encendiéndose. Una voz monótona recita en tono pedagógico)

"Ver sucesivas veces (hábito, costumbre) que al darse un determinado hecho de experiencia se sigue otro determinado hecho de experiencia, lleva al entendimiento a considerar que siempre, en el futuro, volverá a repetirse dicha sucesión de hechos de experiencia, pues la naturaleza es uniforme, es decir, se comporta siempre de la misma manera o manera muy similar"

( Principio de uniformidad de la naturaleza de Hume)

Exactamente ese es el quid de la cuestión.

¿Cueces o enriqueces? Programando en tu tiempo libre

Imagina que no has tenido la oportunidad de trabajar como programador de física y tu experiencia laboral se desarrolla en un campo bien diferente, por ejemplo, programación de aplicaciones de gestión con Visual Basic. Imagina que, sin embargo, en tu tiempo libre te dedicas a colaborar con unos amigos en un proyecto de videojuego donde tú eres responsable de la física. Obviamente, aunque no sea experiencia laboral, este trabajo cuenta, y mucho.

El hecho de que una empresa considere mejor la experiencia laboral que aquella que no está ligada a un proceso de selección previo es principalmente (aunque no únicamente) debido a que el que hayas estado desarrollándote bajo la coordinación de otras personas te ha obligado a rendir de un modo correcto de acuerdo a un entorno profesional. Por ejemplo, puede que hayas dedicado diez años de tu vida a programar un motor de física, pero si lo has hecho por tu cuenta, ¿quien garantiza a la empresa que lo has hecho bien? Normalmente, si te has desempeñado en una empresa, has tenido que satisfacer las exigencias de la persona que te paga, que habrán sido motivadas por las exigencias del mercado, por lo tanto, en este caso tu experiencia queda validada. Es perfectamente factible que tu jefe no estuviera capacitado para su puesto y te pidiera cosas totalmente absurdas, con lo cual tu experiencia laboral no sólo no valdría nada, sino que podría ser dañina, al haberte transmitido unos procedimientos o una forma de trabajar incorrecta. Sin embargo, ese tipo de empresa suele durar bien poco en un entorno tan competitivo y arriesgado como los videojuegos, así que si puedes aportar experiencia laboral, estás ofreciendo una cierta garantía de seguridad y competencia.

¿Eso quiere decir que si tienes experiencia laboral eres mejor que alguien que tiene experiencia por sus proyectos extra laborales?

No.

La experiencia laboral sólo es un indicador que permite a la persona a cargo de la selección de personal maximizar sus posibilidades de éxito en la toma de la decisión (contratarte o no) teniendo en cuenta la información de la que dispone. No te desanimes si no la tienes. Para llegar a cada sitio hay una puerta.

Por ejemplo, en el ejemplo mencionado más arriba podrían tomarse el tiempo de navegar por el código de tu motor, lo cual les daría la información que necesitan, pero es algo que rara vez harán porque en un proceso de selección no suele sobrar el tiempo. En lugar de eso, tendrán que reunir el resto de datos que posean y aplicar el principio de uniformidad. Llegados a este punto, si se pueden intuir tendencias positivas o negativas en tu trayectoria no profesional, la empresa frecuentemente asumirá que te comportarás del mismo modo si te contratan. Así pues, algo que podemos hacer para suplir una falta de experiencia profesional es asegurarnos de que nuestros proyectos rebosan de tendencias positivas y promesas de rendimiento.

He aquí algunos ejemplos de tendencias que nos interesa que nuestro potencial futuro empleador perciba:

• Tendencia a cerrar los proyectos que se comienzan (ésta es, con mucho, la más importante de todas).
• Amor por los detalles: cuidar la presentación de tus proyectos, conocer más información que la que aparentemente te correspondería por tu rol en él (como posibles expansiones o evoluciones).
• Capacidad para identificar las partes importantes de un proyecto y priorizarlas.
• Capacidad para delegar.
• Capacidad para comunicar de manera efectiva en qué consisten tus proyectos y por qué merecen la pena.
• Conocimiento preciso de las tareas desarrolladas por otros miembros del proyecto, así como de la carga de trabajo que supone cada una.

Prepárate para cocinar (persuadir) y hacer la boca agua (vender) a los más exigentes

Una vez cumplido este objetivo, ¿qué más podemos hacer para explicar a nuestros entrevistadores el gran error que cometerían si no nos contrataran?

Una amiga me citó una vez una frase de Elmer Wheeler: "Don't sell the steak - sell the sizzle". Tenemos que hacer énfasis en vender nuestra capacidad potencial, la promesa de rendimiento, el sonido sugerente del filete crepitando al fuego y el sabor delicioso que nos evoca, frente a nuestra capacidad demostrada, la experiencia laboral, el sabor del filete en sí. ¿Cómo podemos hacer esto? Pues escogiendo el tipo de currículum que sirva mejor a nuestros fines:

• El currículum cronológico presenta la información de nuestra historia laboral agrupada por fechas, comenzando por la más antigua. Este formato enfatiza los empleos que has tenido y las empresas en que has trabajado. Este modelo sólo es apropiado para quien puede exhibir una larga historia laboral sin períodos de desempleo y para quien no haya cambiado drásticamente la orientación de su carrera.

• El currículum cronológico inverso es igual que el cronológico, pero presentando primero los datos más recientes, que son los que más interesan a tu entrevistador. Este formato puede ser útil en el caso de estar buscando trabajo en un sector en el que tenemos algo de experiencia (nuestro segundo trabajo, por ejemplo).

• El currículum funcional muestra tus habilidades y logros, sin proveer información detallada acerca de dónde y cuándo obtuviste ambos. Al no seguir una progresión cronológica, permite hacer énfasis únicamente en los elementos positivos que nos interesan, restando importancia a tendencias que pueden ser percibidas como negativas, como cambios frecuentes de trabajo, períodos en paro o falta de experiencia laboral. El formato funcional está especialmente indicado en situaciones tales como cuando buscamos nuestro primer empleo, tenemos muy poca o ninguna experiencia laboral o estamos cambiando de sector (reorientando nuestra carrera). Este CV nos ayudará a resaltar las habilidades que sean transferibles al sector de destino.

Cocina tu(s) filete(s) a fuego lento

Si no te funciona una vez, no te desanimes. Persevera, mejora, aprende de tus errores. Quien persiste en el tiempo y demuestra constancia y afán de superación acaba alcanzando indefectiblemente sus sueños.

politica: 1.kevin baker likes obama. nu conteaza cine-i kevin baker (un scriitor din new york, la care tocmai ii citesc un roman istoric, si care a fost invitatul UBC - sau ceva - sapt asta, si galloway l-a tarat la noi in clasa sa ne tina un speech). ideea e ca noi puneam pariu cat o sa se abtina careva (meaning, not me, ca eu era clar ca voi tacea) fara sa zica ceva politic. baker a fost onorabil, in afara de un slight "don't worry, barack is gonna win" in mijlocul unei fraze (despre care nu stiu cum ar putea cineva sa sustina ca a fost accidental - well...) s-a abtinut de la deviatii. a trebuit sa intrebe chong "so, what about the elections?", adica, in traducere, "noi stim deja ca tii cu obama, te rugam sa le spui si masteranzilor nostri asta". de fapt si noi stiam deja. hm. de fapt am impresia ca exista o clauza la granita, nu ii lasa pe americani sa intre in canada decat daca se declara pro-obama. anyway.

2. my grandma likes obama. din motive sexiste, clar, adica a fost crescuta intr-un asemenea hal de societate patriarhala incat considera ca doamnei clinton "nu i se sta" sa candideze (din cat am inteles din frazarea maica-mii; s-ar putea sa fie de fapt sexism la patrat, desi jur ca nuti e total apatica politic). in orice caz. voi considera o victorie personala daca in august, by denver time, mama iee poate spune "barack obama". deocamdata e la stadiul de "negrutu' acela".

3. i support barack obama 100%, as of...yesterday, i guess. it just got clearer and clearer. din momentul asta nu mai aveti ce discuta cu mine - i'm brainwashed. nu mai am nici un dubiu ca omul merita nominalizarea, si presedintia, si increderea mea (a noastra, what the hell) in el. intr-un moment in care e atacat in mod nasol, el se mobilizeaza atat de brusc si decisiv, merge instant la televiziuni si ziare - un slam-dunk! si intr-o singura zi e explicat, clarificat, non-apologetic, in cel mai admirabil mod cu putinta. once again, i-am-smitten. efectiv, nimeni dintre noi, chibitii, nu are ce sfaturi sa-i dea omului astuia. e fantastic, si sunt mandra de el indiferent daca castiga sau nu din momentul asta. din punctul meu de vedere a castigat deja.

partea2. piesa: intre timp kim si-a dat demisia (nici nu o sa ma apuc sa comentez asta) si maya a gasit o noua actrita - marissa- pt un switch. am fost la repetitia cu noua distributie azi (cu tot cu ochii si burta mea distruse, si cu nasul curgator), nu e grozav dar poate iesi ok, si tocmai caut pe youtube cantece ...vag revolutionare romanesti (de fapt nu prea stiu ce caut. cred ca cristina ar sti mai bine ca mine dar din nenorocire eu am scris piesa si acuma tre sa platesc :). oricum am dat peste "noi in anul 2000", si alte nazbatii, dar sunt frustrata ca astia nu au "cravata rosie cu tricolor" sau "tot inainte" - abia am gasit fostul imn.god!

iui! insights de la maya. vi le expun, unele sunt mai vechi, see what you make of them:

a) in viata vietii mele nu o sa pot sa-i pronunt numele - shaghayeh - fiindca nu pot scoate sunetele alea de 'h'. in orice caz, inainte sa plece din iran, ea si sora ei au hotarat sa gaseasca un nume alternativ, pronuntabil de catre non-iranieni, prin urmatoarea metoda: maya a scos o carte din biblioteca la nimereala: era o carte de mayakovski: recte, maya. daca asta nu o sa ajunga intr-o short story one day, sa nu-mi ziceti ca nu v-am prevenit.

b) parintii mayei sunt veri primari. (inca nu am verificat daca in romania e legal, nu stiu de ce eram convinsa ca nu, dar s-ar putea sa ma insel); am ridicat problema, la modul absolut general, la cursul de stage play, si colegul nostru david care e avocat a stiut sa-mi spuna instant ca in canada e legal din 1972, si numele legii respective (going on with the association thread, in france it is illegal to call any pastry not made with butter "croissant").

c) venind vorba despre nadia (in context de gossip, noi comparand-o pe actrita noastra, hanna (11) cu o gimnasta care lucra 8 ore/zi plus merge la concursuri) aflu cu stupoare ca, desi mama mayei e o mare fana nadia comaneci, familia mohammadali la ei acasa in teheran erau convinsi ca nadia e rusoaica - by all means, ca doar cine-i bun la gimnastica? rusii! (am facut o fatuca de victima si am zis ceva de genul "te rog sa rectifici aceasta eroare" :))

partea3 am fost ieri la un potluck la yael, in beehive. daca as sta si as scrie in noaptea asta non-stop (ceea ce nu am chef sa fac) n-as putea acoperi toata nebunia de-acolo. desi feng shuiul mi s-a parut mai pozitiv ca data trecuta, in mod clar datorita absentei lui miguel+tasha+solena (intre timp am aflat ca copila are numa 4 ani, deci nu e iesit din tot comunul sa fie inca alaptata. dar e la limita. e fix pe limita, ce mai.)anyway. un alt copil al casei e ilan, ai carui parinti cred ca-s francezi, dar pe tata nu l-am putut identifica (pe mama a fost relativ simplu: femeia de la care sugea copilu - i leave it at that, ca daca ma indoiesc si de aia, innebunesc); sexul copilului l-am identificat, la propriu, in momentul schimbarii de scutece, mutrita angelica, galagia bilingva si parul blond de zana nefiind indicii either way. in orice caz, imediat ce ilan s-a prins ca-s o bleaga, s-a agatat de mine insistand sa-l hutut si sa dansez cu el, de se uita lumea la noi...ciudat...ma rog, noi ne distram, cel putin copilul. mai erau si 3 caini pe-acolo - ypsi si confratii ei marcie si charlie. spre sfarsitul serii yael a oferit un moment de dresaj, cu o lingura de lemn (drept prop, nu pt batut!) si pesmeciori si fluierice. in afara de copil si catei urmatorul fun item erau lesbienele si respectiv conversatia lor (au fost vro 12 oameni all in all pe-acolo, dintre care doar 2 cupluri de lesbiene, dar intrucat proportia era mai mare decat cea general intalnita in societate, pt mine era the elephant in the room. nu ca se pupau sau ceva, dar nu sunt eu obisnuita, na! brigitta, sotia lui yael, e tacuta ca orice norvegiana respectabila, dar i-am acordat bulina rosie initiala si nu i-o iau inapoi - e ok). stai, da inca lesbienele ar fi cum ar fi, dar in combinatie cu o tipa de profesie 'midwife' conversatia post-dinner a devenit atat de interesanta, incat ma tineam de masa ca sa nu intervin - femeia le explica CE anume face, si astea salivau si aprobau - all about pap smears and the woman-friendly si woman-empowering methods of testing and delivery, and about examining the beauty and mystery of one's own vagina. yes with a mirror, duuuh. am vazut un episod din 'sex and the city' in care se vorbea asa timp de vro 30'' si am crezut ca era prea de tot. nope, turns out not. no ma rog. s-a vorbit si despre polyamory dar lumea era in general impotriva, sau cel putin neconvinsa ca ar merge in cazul lor, si oricum deja eram ridicata de la masa aia ca altfel nu stiu zau. astfel (= plecand dintr-un grup in care era sa fac scandal) am cunoscut o noua sonia (apparently sonia is the new iulia to me???), colega cu yael la SFU, o americanca (middle-aged, heterosexual and married thanks god) aclimatizata, who made my day. trebuie sa fie femeia cu cel mai sanatos ras pe care l-am auzit, ever, and i mean it; rasul meu fara chitait. molipsitor, open and good-hearted. am stat de vorba cu ea, cred ca la un moment dat i was stalking her through the party, ca altfel innebuneam acolo, si am stat cu ea in bucatarie band resturi de vin in timp ce ceilalti cantau in living, la multiple chitari+ banjo+ instrumente de scuturat; pe urma sonia a plecat si am stat sa ascult ceva cantece (cat stevens, 'me&bobby mcgee', niste neil young, un pic de cohen si beatles; olivia, una din the lez couple, stia ok la chitara si cred ca avea si niste cantece proprii; si yael are o voce surprinzator de buna). pe urma am plecat fiindca era noapte si vaaaaant, si frig, si aveam o ora + pana acasa. ( biata yael: "i'm sorry you're the only one who lives so far west" - eu, smartass:"yea, i know, that's what my friends in romania tell me all the time.")