Job Interviews I have Known

So, it's back to the job hunt for me...here I am, three months later and I am pretty much no where near close to finding a job. On the positive side though, I actually did manage to successfully APPLY for a job in my field, electronically no less! It was such a triumph for me to receive (via e-mail!) the little notice that reads "Thank you for submitting your complete application." Gosh, I feel so... accomplished, so proud, so validated, so...RELIEVED! That I could actually be in the running for this job is such a step forward for me! Now, I am pretty confident that I won't be selected for this job, but I can't help but wonder if I'll make it as far as an interview?
OH NO....AN INTERVIEW? ARGGGHHHH!
Everyone has interview horror stories. One of my most memorable was walking into the interview room, having the interviewer (a man) look up from his desk, stare at me for a moment and say "Holy Crap! You look just like my ex-wife!" Needless to say, I did not get that job.

Then there was the interview for the job that I was a bit overqualified for - boy, tell me that's not a lot of hooey - overqualified? It's like "I'm sorry, you will simply be too good at this job, and therefore you may not have it. We are looking for someone a little less competent than you." On this one, I walked into the interview room and there were two interviewers sitting there, dressed way better than I was and with a combined age of about equal to that of my husbands only suit. They asked me things such as "What skills will you bring to this position?" (hello - did you even READ my resume?) and "Describe your faults" (I'd be perfect if I wasn't so modest). No sense of humor. Didn't get that one, either.

Another horrible interview went something like this: I am sitting across from a grumpy old man who keeps looking at my paperwork in front of him, and up at me, and back at the paperwork and back at me without saying anything. It is like he is trying to reconcile what is written on the paper in front of him with what is actually sitting across from him. Finally, he sighs, a long deep sigh, leans back in his chair and says "You're only here because they said I have to see you. I have never had a woman work for me, and you are probably not going to be the first!" Then, he gets up and walks out. I sat there, stunned. Surprisingly, I did get that job, but boy, were the first six months rough!

Non-Traditions

So the Thanksgiving holiday has come...and gone. In my house, this day is always a good one. I am very food oriented and it's always fun to compare notes with others about particular foods eaten, spirits imbibed, whether the gravy was lumpy, etc. And, although I think tradition is grand in theory, the idea of preparing and eating the same meal year after year is tedious to me. Not to belittle Aunt Jane's Bourbon Sweet Potatoes or Uncle Bob's Oyster Dressing (we're not really sure what Uncle Bob puts in this, but its peculiar to say the least), but the same meal holiday after holiday after holiday does take some of the joy out of it. There seem to be some pretty strict rules, too, about what is acceptable and appropriate holiday fare. The obvious, turkey on Thanksgiving, is practically sacred. One year, we had spaghetti for dinner on Thanksgiving. Friends and family were horrified to hear that we did not have a turkey and they were not comforted by my assurances that it was very good spaghetti! Spaghetti was simply NOT an acceptable holiday food!

Each holiday seems to demand its own particular food - lamb on Easter, hoppin' John on New Year's Day, ham for Christmas, hamburgers and hot dogs for Labor Day and so on. I say, the day should never be just about the meal but rather the people sitting around the table. With the way people move around and the way families are miles apart, if you're lucky enough to be sharing your table with at least one other person, go forth and eat what you want! Tradition be damned! In the end you're probably not going to remember the sweet potatoes, but hopefully you'll remember making Aunt Jane laugh with the story about the orange dress!

Blue Pill Blues

So, this really does not have much to do with getting older or my mid-life crisis, but I have to vent about this. Without being guilty of TMI (too much information) syndrome, and at the risk of being a little uncouth, this recent experience I had has to be put out there...
I recently purchased a box of Midol brand pain reliever for its intended use. They are very powerful and much appreciated pills, in my house. However, they are evidently packaged by a person who has never experienced personally, nor been near (like in the same state) a person experiencing PMS severe enough to warrant taking the little blue pills. In trying to get to one, my fingers fumbled with the paper layer on top of the foil layer only to discover that I now needed to push the little pill from its' hard plastic wrapper, only to have it shoot out from its 'blister', where it flew across the kitchen to plunk, without ceremony, into the cat's water dish. It was, of course, the last pill in the box. Manufacturers need to think about their target consumer more when they put their merchandise on the market, I thought, as I fished the pill out of the cat's dish and dried it carefully on a paper towel. Next time, I'm definitely buying the bottle!

Facebooking

I like Facebook, but I think Facebook has exacerbated my mid-life crisis. In searching for old high school friends, college roommates and former colleagues I have discovered something really disturbing...most of my friends CHILDREN are the ones using Facebook! This just drives home the fact that I am...old. I think a special Facebook application should be developed for mid-lifers, like myself. To be really successful with my age-group, there would need to be a few different features, though. For example, there should be a photo edit function built right in that allows you to 'touch up' your profile pictures, thereby eliminating those pesky visible signs of aging. There should also be a warning device that alerts you when a prospective 'friend' has turned into a rabid right-wing politico, health food advocate or has overachieving children they constantly talk about ('I know she's only 22, but she is receiving the Lifetime Achievement Award in nuclear-rocket science-applied mathematics from NASA ' this week. Next week, she is blah, blah, blah'). There also needs to be a rule about overuse; for example, 20 posts in an hour is a lot...especially when they are obscure and random comments about...nothing. Facebook needs to suggest to these users an alternative outlet to express themselves...poetry, perhaps? Or, maybe just their own blog!

Getting Older

I had lunch with a really important person in my life a week or so ago. She sort of reminds me of my Grandmother. I remember having to go grocery shopping with Grandma, and it taking her FOREVER to make her selections. I distinctly remember her selecting each green bean from the big bin, one at a time, inspecting each to make sure it was not blemished and nice and crisp and fresh. While searching for the perfect beans, she would lecture me on what characteristics each vegetable and fruit should possess to be considered worthy of taking it home (her advice was apropos to men, as well, as I determined in later years). I would stand there, shifting from foot to foot, squirming, trying desperately to listen politely and attentively, when all I really wanted to do was hitch onto the big metal shopping cart and race up and down the aisles in the brightly lit store, jump on the cart and have the ride of a lifetime.

I was grocery shopping today and as I stood in front of the bin of green beans, I couldn't help but laugh at myself because I was picking each bean, one at a time and making sure it was good enough to bring home. I guess getting older brings more changes than I realized. Sure, the physical changes are evident, but the things that make you think 'Holy cow, I'm an adult now - how did that happen?' well, those changes are hard to accept, too. Now that I'm older and grown up (sort of) I often wonder about such life changing challanges and questions, such as:

• when did beer get so expensive?
• why does the Juniors section at the Belk suddenly sell Barbie doll like clothes that even though they are my size, look absolutely ridiculous on me?
• why am I even thinking about re-landscaping the yard?

It's like all of a sudden I have morphed into my GRANDMOTHER! I have missed turning into my parents (who were pretty cool) and have gone directly to the geriatric generation. Which really rots, because all I still really want to do is hitch onto the big metal shopping cart and go for a ride!