Archive for January, 2008

Mayhem Ensues

Well, we’re losing one girl to maternity leave today, and then we found out yesterday that we’re losing the Fundraiser to another org, so that leaves only 4 people working for the nonprofit I work for now.  We had ten when I started here! 

The board doesn’t want to hire anyone new because they want to save some money for programming, but let’s get real here…four people to run an organization that was run by ten?  Isn’t it a little ridiculous to assume we’re going to stick around and pick up the slack that 60% of the staff we now don’t have, used to do?  Methinks mayhem is afoot.

I got really freaked out last night because so many people are now going to be gone.  I don’t want to even think about it.  It’s just making me sick.  Our board is made up of morons.  They don’t know what they’re doing.  I have to stick it out until I find another job, but man, I hope another job comes along…FAST.

I applied for three other jobs yesterday in the midst of my freakout, so hopefully someone calls me back about those sometime soon.  Or maybe I’ll just be waiting around for the animal shelter job that for some reason is taking another two weeks before they do a second interview.

To be honest, I believe I might be getting discriminated against because I am young.  Much younger than anyone else working there it seems.  This kind of thing happened when I was at the Y.  I would get blamed for things I had absolutely no part in because it’s easier to lay the shit onto the twentysomething than to admit you did something wrong in your 50s.  I don’t get it.  I am absolutely more than qualified to do that job.  I have years of experience in the nonprofit sector.  I could plan, evalute, take to dinner, and make love to the stuff I would need to do for that job.  Alas. They are for some reason stalling on me, and need to interview me again, even though on my last interview they had pretty much assured me that I was an amazing fit and would do really well.

“BUT WAIT!  SHE IS YOUNG!  SHE DOESN’T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT ANYTHING EVEN THOUGH HER DEGREE IS IN NONPROFIT MANAGEMENT!!!!  WE MUST SIT AND THINK ABOUT THIS FOR ANOTHER TWO WEEKS!!!”

I call bullshit.  This is, in fact, the same sort of thing I went through at the Y.  They liked me.  Then I call and they said they gave the job to someone else.  Then they call two weeks later and say that I’m hired with $20,000 more a year than they originally told me.  WHAT. THE. HELL.

Screw it, let’s just move to Tofino and take up surfing:

Someone got a new raincoat!

Fashion! (turn to the left)

Why?????  Yes, this photo was only taken a short time ago.  It’s from the 21st century.  It’s from Facehunter, a fashion blog.  Let’s talk about all the crazy shit wrong with this outfit…

extreme.jpg

This is not hip.  It is not edgy.  It is not so bad it’s good.  It’s just bad.

Is this what it’s come down to?  Heavy crotches and messed up hair?  I already lived through the 80s, and I don’t think I want to do it again.  I think you can be edgy without looking like an asshole.

For instance:

See, now this outfit is hip without looking like you jumped out of a dumpster.  The shirt is really unique, has a really amazing way of hiding the buttons, and is a nice take on the average button down business shirt.  The hair is good, the pants (seem to be) good.  This doesn’t make me want to claw my eyes out. 

In a word: GORGEOUS.  I dare you to find something wrong with this woman.  Dress = hotness.  Full boob coverage.  No vag showing.  Nice makeup and hair.

This outfit is stepping into flavour country.  Some may not like the shoes with the tights, but I say, PLAY ON.  The shoes match the scarf, and it all comes together without looking insane.

Then there are those that maybe would have been okay, except for one very stupid and large detail…

Can you guess what I’m talking about?

You think to yourself, “nah, people aren’t walking around like this.”  BUT THEY ARE.  Each and every day.  Poor, defenceless people are walking around looking like morons because they have taken a stand on their own fashion.  I think sometimes their clothes are on strike while they are still wearing them…like this guy:

See, the sweater is literally trying to migrate off of his FACE.

But what can we do about all this bad fashion?

I say we hide all the bad dressers in this guy’s sweater:

actually, wait…is that even a guy?

*all photos from facehunter*

I’m counting on another three weeks…blarg!

Well, it looks like I’ll be waiting another two weeks and then I will have a SECOND round interview for this job at the animal shelter.  Can I just say how UBELIEVABLY FRUSTRATING this is?  How long are you going to make me dance around trying to get a job with you people?  By mid feb I will have been talking to people for almost three months!  WHAT THE TITS?!
 
Hi, can I work for you?
 
Hi, can I work for you?
 
 
 
Hi, can I work for you?
 
Hi, can I work for you?
 
 
Hi, can I work for you?
 
Hi, can I work for you?
 
Blarg.  I’m just thinking, “seriously?  Really?  You STILL don’t know who you want to hire?  You seemed pretty set on hiring me.  Like, COMPLETELY SET.  What is going on over there???  I just want to smash my head through my desk over this.  HOW. MANY. TIMES. DO. I. HAVE. TO. INTERVIEW. FOR. YOU?????
 
It’s frustrating because I totally DO want the job, but holy shit, how many hoops do I have to jump through after you were all like, “YOU ARE SUCH A GOOD FIT!”
 
Someone smack me.

The East Hastings Shuffle

Some of you who have read my blog for a while will recognize the title “The East Hastings Shuffle,” as a dance I invented a few years ago on my first visit to Vancouver when I was taken down Hastings by a dickhole friend.  After seeing East Hastings I would never again think that I had seen what poverty was in Calgary.  East Hastings was quite possibly the worst thing I had ever seen, and it changed me forever.

Think of the most decrepid place on Earth.  Think of all the sadness, all the filth, all the souls crying out for the slightest ounce of attention that would validate to them that they are even still alive.  Now throw in Satan.  Now times that by 100.  I think that’s what it feels like to walk down the poorest street in Canada.

The smell of urine floats in the air like a foul perfume.  There is clothing thrown on the streets, waiting to be picked up by the next person desperate enough to wear the filth.  You don’t want to look at anyone.  You don’t want to talk to anyone.  Your own guilt that you were born into a family that never had to see things like this is as evident as the freshly cleaned clothing you are parading around in. 

There is garbage everywhere.  There is pain everywhere.  You turn down multiple asks for money because really, do you have that much to give anyone yourself?  You’re just trying to make it out here, too.

You watch junkies shoot up on the street, right there in front of you, and you wonder what their life was like before all this…if you could call that a life.  It’s like a whole other world has plunked down in the middle of a vibrant city, and you don’t know which way is out. 

The poverty I see every time I go down that street makes me wish I could help more.  It makes me feel like I really should give someone some money when they ask for it.  Then I realize that if I gave money to everyone who needed it or asked for it down here, I would be close to living down there myself, and they’d all be back where they started.  Asking for another dollar.  Trying to get another hit, get another meal.  Get anything.

A man asked a group of us for money yesterday outside a shelter, and when we didn’t have any, he got so angry he threw a bottle and broke it right beside us.  I won’t say it wasn’t scary, but it was awful to watch the frustration and hate that these people feel to watch us walk away.  Because we get to walk away.  We have the choice to visit.  The option to leave.  We make the decision to visit, and then get to go home, to a real home.  Not a box on the street.  Not some paper in an alley.  We get to go home and have a meal.  We get to eat (mostly) whatever we want, and have the luxury of entertaining ourselves by going to visit the Ovaltine Cafe and tasting the cheap food.  Because it’s just for a moment.  But this is their whole life. 

“Yeah, but did they have Ovaltine?”

I went with some pals to the Ovaltine Cafe on East Hastings, which is an adventure in itself. Apparently an episode of the X Files was filed here, as well as some scenes for i-Robot. Ben Affleck was there once too, but Steve says it’s because the Ovaltine was all he could afford. Ha!

(photos from Flickr) 

Scary, no? Oh yes, and they DO serve Ovaltine. It was good. But I ordered pie a-la-mode, and the lady brought it to me cold…like…straight out of the fridge cold…with ice cream…

The best part is that there’s a $3 minimum charge per person at a booth, which is actually a task because everything is like $2! Luckily, my pie and ovaltine brought me to a whopping $4.00 or so. BIG SPENDERS!

More tomorrow…

Okay, only 6/12 more hours…

Oh my blog.  You know when you have a few days off and you come back to work and you’re like, “shit, why did I come back?!”  No?  I do!

There’s nothing like getting ransacked with a bunch of bullshit to do right when you arrive.  It’s like a punch in the face instead of a cup of coffee!  I’ll just be under my desk, hiding from, oh….EVERYONE.

 In other related news, I don’t know when the other job will call to let me know, but can I say I hope it’s soon?  I know I’d be so good for it, but I can’t really call and harass them to make a decision…well…not until Monday anyway.

I honestly think I need a break from working for organizations that help people.  Animals don’t take advantage of you.  Animals can’t lie to you.  Animals don’t drop twelve envelopes on your desk and hope that you’ll just “deal with it.”  In fact, the more I get to know some people, the more I really do like my dogs. 


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