There are few things in life more irritating than writing fourteen drafts of a blog and HATING EVERY SINGLE ONE, but having to deal with fruit flies while in a heightened state of “I’M GOING TO THROW MY COMPUTER ACROSS THE ROOM” is a recipe for disaster.
I’ve been fighting with fruit flies all morning and I feel myself going crazy. I’m jittery and my eyes keep darting around the room like a psychopath. Have you ever tried to kill these things before? It is NOT easy. The family downstairs (of people, not fruit flies) probably thinks I’m a danger to their children because I keep clapping sporadically and making aggravated yells. (The clapping is me trying to kill the flies; the yells are me missing.)
Are fruit flies an east coast thing? Or a general humidity thing? Or are they an Anywhere-But-Roswell thing because I swear I never grew up swatting fruit flies off of my bananas. This is. So. Gross!
STOP SWARMING YOU VILE CREATURES!!
They don’t even fly in predictable patterns, and they’re so small I have to slide my hands together while clapping in order to smoosh them. I think this is comparable in difficulty to catching a fish with one’s bare hands.
[VICTORY! I just killed six! And now the others will spontaneously generate into hundreds more.]
IN OTHER NEWS
I’m currently procrastinating my job search. It is an absolutely horrific process. I’ve written what feels like thirty-seven hundred cover letters, and I’m at the point of not caring. Pretty soon I’ll be opening cover letters with sentences like these:
“Dear Hiring Manager, I would be a great addition to your team because I am awesome, and my cup of awesome doth runneth over.”
“Dear Hiring Manager, I am an expert fruit fly killer. I believe that’s a transferrable skill.”
I’ve already borderline used the first option, minus the cup overflowing part, and followed it with a narrative description of why I moved to Rhode Island.
“Dear Hiring Manager, I am interested in applying for the Admissions Officer position posted on your website because I am passionate about higher education, and I know I would be an awesome Admissions Officer.”
I’d include the rest, but when I re-read it just now, it seemed much cheesier than when I submitted it, so I’d rather you use your imaginations. I did include the phrase “’I (heart) Rhode Island’-T-shirt wearing cheerleader” if that helps. And I concluded my letter by saying:
“I learn quickly, and any experience I lack, I make up for with enthusiasm, congeniality, and impeccable wit.“
This university has already turned me down five times, so I figured I’m not really hurting my chances.
In regard to failed job applications, I recently discovered my friend’s blog, which is 1) hilarious and 2) has a slew of example cover letters that are way better than mine, a fact that is both comforting (because he, too, is unemployed) and unnerving (because his letters are way better than mine).
In case anyone reading this is a millionaire and/or wondering what I’d like to do with my life, well, essentially I’d like to be paid to write about my experiences, BUT if that doesn’t work out, I’d like to have a job that affords me an opportunity to travel and help people. (I’m open to a wide range of possibilities here.) I’d also enjoy editing or publishing, but currently I’m focused on higher ed jobs: I’d like to work as an admissions officer (and recruit internationally!) or work in a writing center.
I do enjoy helping students, just not in the everyday classroom sense, where I have to understand and explain the complexities of novels that inherently make no sense to me (Lord of the Flies has three layers of meaning?), and then come up with fifty minutes worth of exercises to impart this knowledge on students who aren’t paying attention anyway. But I enjoy improving other people’s writing, so if anyone needs an editor [SUBLIMINAL MESSAGE FOR “HIRE ME, PLEASE”] for business letters or application essays or cover letters, please email me at watching_from_above at Hotmail dot com.
IN THE MEANTIME
A girl’s gotta make some money, so it’s back to the restaurant biz for me.
One perk about training to be a server at my current place of employment is that I got to try all of the dishes, which I think is a genius idea and should be implemented in all restaurants. The only downside is that I gained eight pounds in a week.*
*This time frame also includes my visit to NYC, so that could have had something to do with it. Nikitas’ only supply of food was a jar of Nutella, so we had to eat out for every meal. Given it’s New York City, the city of lights and I-will-kill-you-for-the-last-bite kind of food, I’m not complaining.
Speaking of New York City….
I tried to blog about it the day after I went, but I was again on the bus and it turned out horribly. Now that it’s “old news” (Nadal won. Again. Big whoop.), I’m going to have to suffice it to say I had a wonderful time, Nikitas was a great host, and despite attempts to track Sean Connery down and get him to speak into a recordable device for me, I did not run into him or any of the other famous people who were there.
I WILL say this. Before attending the big event, I had to do a Google search on what to wear to the US Open because fashion is not my thing, and I was a little concerned I’d be kicked out if I didn’t look like this:
The good news is the people running the metal detectors didn’t seem to be rejecting anyone based on a dress code, but I did notice some common trends.
So, here is my blogging karma: putting back into the cyber world that which I hoped to take from it.
WHAT TO WEAR TO THE US OPEN FINAL
Button down shirts and polos with khakis or jeans. If you want to tie a sweater around your shoulders, you could. Just avoid Football team jerseys with beer stains down the front.
Nik was wearing a fancy sports coat over a white button down shirt with jeans and tennis shoes, and he fit in nicely. The man who sat next to him was wearing an orange jumpsuit and glasses with one lens blackened out, so there is some leniency here.
There were, in fact, quite a few dresses and skirts, but I did not feel shunned for wearing jeans with flip flops and a man’s sweater. [I had to borrow Nikitas’ because my alternative plan was to wear a tennis outfit. Nikitas had to remind me that it was not I who was playing in the final.]
The only thing I was missing was an arctic jacket and/or the ability to survive in temperatures lower than 65 degrees because it maayyy have gotten a little chilly after the sun went down.
But the high of being at the US Open Final kept me from convulsing with shivers, so it was all good. My only suggestion for the Arthur Ashe Stadium people is to include hot chocolate at the Heineken stand. If they want to spike it with Baileys to make it “fit in,” I won’t complain.
Just a suggestion.
So there it is. Another blog about nothing (and yet, everything.) Happy hump day, y’all.