15 posts tagged “work”
The biggest excitement of late is that I finally broke down and got a new computer. It was way past time, and doing anything-- anything, including turning it on-- had become a nightmare on the old one. The new one is muuuuuuch faster, and has more storage space, but moving computers it almost as traumatic as moving house... I can't get the contents of my iTunes to move over except for the things that I'd burned from CDs. I can't afford to buy a computer and upgrade to CS3, so I'm still working with Photoshop two versions ago, which is now refusing to open RAW files. I've downloaded the plug in. Twice. No luck. I can't get my website pages to open up in the application I'd been using to make and modify it, and I have things to add to it. And I don't like Vista. All of which is knocking the excitement of a new machine down about fifty notches.
I was on travel for work this week, which isn't so bad, except that I had to go out to the Eastern Shore (also not so bad-- though, am I wrong in thinking that name redundant? Does VA had a Western shore?), which required driving through Norfolk and VA Beach. Which ended up being a six hour traffic back up odyssey. It took almost three hours to go three miles and made me very glad that we don't live in Norfolk.
Eastern Shore was neat. The work part went fine, and I got up early one morning in search of a place to take a jog on the beach, failed miserably at that, and shot some pictures instead. Sadly, the trip ended with a four hour, traffic-laden return. On the upside, while I was gone a few seeds in an herb container I'd planted sprouted. Yeay! Not that this makes up for having lost my entire herb garden in the deluge last weekend, but it's good none the less.
In the meantime, I got an email from a friend at old job, two jobs back, who said my dissertation had arrived. Pardon? I had no idea what he was talking about. He sent them on to me, and while they were en route, I remembered that when I'd initially completed, had signed off, and submitted my diss manuscript to the library at erstwhile uni, there had been a form where you could request (at an outrageous price for what it is) photocopies of your dissertation from UMI, which is the org that does all the copying and microfiching/microfilming of dissertations in the U.S., if you wanted extra copies. I ordered three-- one for my parents, one for my beloved adviser/second committee member, Prof. DKW, and one for my third committee member. They arrived from two jobs ago old job the other day:
And yeah. It has been two and a half years. It has been so long that dear Prof. DKW has passed away since I ordered the frigging things (making me feel sad that he may have thought I'd forgotten him). His widow was deaccessioning his library (which was enormous and amazing), as was he in the last bit of his life, so there is nowhere to send the thing. It's been so long that it's kind of uncomfortable sending it to third committee member-- sort of highlighting that we haven't spoken since the paperwork was finally signed, as well as the oogie-ness of getting all of it done, which was not an easy process, even by doctoral dissertation insanity norms. Obviously, my parents will get their copy. But two and a half years? jeeeeeeez. And I opened it up to find that it is not the print out with nice pictures that the copy I got from my Uni library is-- it's a photocopy. No, really, a photocopy. Two and a half yeas for a photocopy? It's bound in hideous plastic covered cardboard in a shade of blue I can only think if institutional elementary school bathroom tile. Perhaps UMI stands for Unbelievably, Mindbogglingly, Inefficient.
Other than that, I read this article, and was depressed and sad, missing my erstwhile home in PP, and just disgusted to see the way these things fall out....
So a couple of weeks ago I wrote this post, lamenting the death of respect for knowledge. Today, I found this post in Slate. Just confirming, apparently. I mean, who was Adolf Hitler? And it's multiple choice. Crikey.
Learning stuff about the world is apparently not what Americans do with their time-- apparently they spend it working. I'm thinking there might be a correlation there-- too tired to concentrate, too busy working to bother reading or going to museums or anything other than passive entertainment, like television. Admittedly, if the U.S. decided to move towards a more humane system (like much of Europe), with six weeks vaca as the minimum and a thirty-five hour workweek like France, I don't see myself taking advantage of the time to sleep more. But I would read more, paint more, go on more road trips, photograph more, write more, see my family more.... *sigh*
June is one of, if not the, busiest time of year at work for me. It's a month of long days, hectic schedules, late meetings, and a closing bit that never ceases to amaze. By the end I feel like a rag doll.... but after weeks of getting up at 5 in the morning to start rolling with what needs to get done for the day I couldn't sleep even until six this morning, exhaustion be damned.
It put me in the mind of thinking about a roll of film I got back from the lab a few weeks ago that I've been pondering. I'd had the roll cross processed, something I'd always been curious about but hadn't ever had it done myself. The results were.... kind of hit or miss, with the discovery that the color schemes I really thought would pop (and which, consequently, took up three-quarters of the roll), were, in fact, the ones that didn't pop at all. Actually, they kind of ended up looking just super contrasty, over saturated, or poorly exposed. Maybe not so much a miss as not what I was expecting.
The ones that *did* come out something like what I was envisioning were ones I was really rather intrigued by as results.... but which I hadn't paid too much attention to at the time I was making them. Instead, they were things I just shot off to finish up the roll.
Which is interesting in and of itself, in one of those life lesson-y sort of ways. As my friend the Fabulous Miss A always says, you can't fake the funk. (Read: if it ain't working, don't force it). I guess I woke up this morning feeling a bit ponderous and philosophical (as well as a bit washed out and cross-processed) after witnessing some great achievements, a fair amount of struggle, and a few instances of truly shameful behavior, often from surprising quarters. People often defy our expectations-- expectations born out of the ways in which people project themselves that put forward not only what is not truly themselves, but is actually the opposite of their true nature because they think that it's what they are supposed to be. So often I wish I could just shut off the expectation button, as it would probably make it easier to see what the future might bring.
Interestingly, in looking at this film I realize that I *have* cross-processed film before... just not on purpose. When I was on the ill-fated trip to Indonesia I had a roll (the only color roll) of film I'd shot at Borobudur processed at a shop in Yogja. When we went to pick it up I opened the envelope to see only a few pictures, which were all really odd-looking, and a whole lot of jacked up images on the negatives. The friend I was visiting there aided in the discussion with the guy about what happened. He insisted it was something I'd done, though it was manifestly obvious that it was something that had happened during processing. Then he said that it must be old film (which it wasn't). It was pointed out that I'd bought the film in the shop from him the week before. After a lot more discussion he said it might have been the case that he opened the processor before it wad done (hence that blank images at the end of the roll). He never mentioned the cross-processing, but looking at the images next to ones I had cross-processed on purpose, I realize that he probably opened the processor because he suddenly realized, in a panic, that he was cross-processing them.
In that little vignette there are a few things that I've started to think about, things that I value, and things that I don't, and how to get more of one and less of the other in my life. Would that it were so easy. A little cooperation from the universe would be nice here....
Life has been incredibly busy lately... so much so that I've had to put many many many things on the backburner, including things I like to do, but aren't necessary right this very second (watching movies, reading), things I like to do and are important to me (photography), things that are important because they support other things that I do (updating photography website), things that I wish I had more time to do (research, writing), things that I really need to do and am frustrated that I can't (spend more time with Phil). And blogging. That's way on the back burner. As should be apparent.
So, what am I up to? A lot of work, and a lot of Artomatic. I did get to shoot a concert recently, which was fun, if challenging. The Gin Blossoms played an outdoor concernt in Crystal City, right across from Artomatic on Cinco de Mayo.
The main problem was that it was rainy, and kind of tough to shoot with a tall stage (me a short person), and no good vantage point. And rainy is not so nice. Still, it was fun. There were some real characters there, including a woman who was a few years older than me and was completely, word-slurringly trashed before they hit the stage at 7pm. She kept leaning on me and saying, "do you think that it's dangerous? all those cords in the rain? it's scaring me. I like the Gin Blossoms. I hope it stops raining." Pause. "Do you think it's dangerous?" repeat, ad nauseum. She eventually began talking to a young man who was with his girlfriend (or I assume from the way they kept their mouths suctioned on to each other throughout the show, only coming up for air in order to drink cups of beer in a greedy, desperate sort of way... the way one might expect someone to drink water after stumbling out of the desert, having been lost for two days without water). The young man was also lit up like a Christmas tree, as was his girlfriend (I suspect she was very very unhappy later), and hardly noticed her. Meanwhile, a guy appeared with a grim look of determination on his face and a manner that suggested either psychosis or some drug experience that wasn't quite settling right. He seemed to be on angry ecstasy. When the band came on he shook his fist in time to the music with a serious look on his face, and eventually wrested the tamborine away from the singer. The singer did, in the end get it back. He might have just been a serious fan, as he knew all the words to all of the songs.
Mostly, the rain held off during the Gin Blossoms' set, though it rained on the opening band (the Laura Lee Band), who was quite good (a little poppy for my taste, but she has a great voice). It was an oddly cold evening in general, which seems the be the flavor of this spring. It's been chilly the last couple of days, and it seems amazing that it's already moving into late May and we've only had a couple of days hit the low 80s and hardly any humidity. I'm still wearing sweaters and jackets, which seems downright shocking... it feels like Ithaca finally got my forwarding address and has come to visit.
I just had to laugh when I read this article. Not because of the idea of Fed-Ex working the friolator, it's this quote that got me:
The ad amounts to a "strong and direct insult to the 12.8 million Americans who work in the restaurant industry," wrote National Restaurant Association President and Chief Executive Steven Anderson in a letter to Nationwide CEO Jerry Jurgensen.
The commercial "would give the impression that working in a restaurant is demeaning and unpleasant," Anderson wrote.
Uh... yeah. I think Mr. Anderson is confused. Or maybe high. I don't think that it gives the impression that working in a fast food joint ("restaurant" is kind of rich here-- I don't think Anthony Bourdoin is going to say he feels his profession has been insulted by the site of Fed-Ex in a hairnet) is demeaning and unpleasant. Au contraire, it exploits the fact that working in a fast food joint is demeaning and unpleasant.
I have had a number of demeaning and unpleasant minimum wage jobs. Working in a fast food joint was not one of them (though many of my high school counterparts did have positions at McDonalds, Wendy's, and others). Instead, while in college, I worked in a movie theater. At first I worked in the box office, which was fine. But then the pleasant, easy-going boss I had quit, and I eventually ended up behind the concession stand. One of the duties here was making, bagging, serving, and then cleaning the machinery for making popcorn. Not exactly the friolator, but it did involve having to push a giant (three inch diameter) heating element into a huge can of solidified, coagulated, neon orange tinted coconut oil.
Are there worse jobs? Yes, there are. I have had a few. But being forced to wear an unflattering, purple polyester shirt, a name tag (so that people can insult you by name), being covered in oil, your hair and clothing-- your underwear-- smelling of popcorn (I didn't eat popcorn for a decade after quitting that job), people complaining and insulting you, or (more often) simply dismissing you, while you rack up a whopping $4.35 an hour (this was a while ago, back when that was the minumum wage. When I first started working, in high school, I was getting $1.85 an hour, which was the minimun wage then. Yipes, I'm old).... is this not demeaning and unpleasant? How about exploitative and demoralizing? Soul sucking? Depressing?
I mean, I guess I wonder what adjectives Mr. Anderson would use to describe minimum wage service work. Particularly ones that involve the peculiarly astringent combination of a) grease; b) the permanent infiltration of food smells into your clothing; and c) direct interaction with the public in short, impersonal but continuous spurts. I also wonder just how much time the National Restaurant Association President and Chief Executive spends at the friolator each year.
I have an event tonight that is part of a program I'm running for m'job that is all rather schwank with lots of famous for Washington types and diplomat types and what not.... and it all sounded good until I got the invitation and saw the little bit at the bottom that said "Cocktail Attire," and thought... Cocktail attire? ermmm......
Not so much, the cocktail attire. Not so much meaning not really at all. I'm hoping my accessories, which are very sparkly, will distract everyone away from the fact that I'm not wearing a cocktail dress... because, erm, I don't have one. Or rather, I have several, but they were all produced between 1958 and 1964, and aren't really appropriate for a schwanky cocktail party circa 2006.
....
God, I hope there are cocktails at this thing...
Okay, I heard a report on npr this morning about the difference in income on average between degree holders and non-degree holders. The bit that stuck out for me was that advanced degree holders (like me) on average make $78K. On average. I'm really not making $78K. What the hell am I doing wrong? Was I supposed to line up somewhere to get my $78K job? Did I miss that queue?
Periodically I have one of those days where I repeat to myself, like an evil mantra, eight and a half years of graduate school... as in eight and a half years of graduate school and I'm cutting bloody sandwiches. That would have been what I repeated to myself this summer as, sleep deprived and stressed out, I went at forty sandwiches from Subway with a plastic knife. Did I mention that my hair is, literally, still falling out from that week?
These are the days when, in the moment I'm not mumbling to myself about the number of years I spent in gradaute school, I spend the day singing Once in a Lifetime by Talking Heads.
And you may find yourself living in a shotgun shack
And you may find yourself in another part of the world
And you may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile
And you may find yourself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful wife
And you may ask yourself-well...how did I get here?
And you may ask yourself
How do I work this?
And you may ask yourself
Where is that large automobile?
And you may tell yourself
This is not my beautiful house!
And you may tell yourself
This is not my beautiful wife!
And you may ask yourself
What is that beautiful house?
And you may ask yourself
Where does that highway go?
And you may ask yourself
Am I right? ...am I wrong?
And you may tell yourself
My god!...what have I done?
I tell you, if I woke tomorrow in that beautiful house in a job where people don't pee all over the front steps with such abandon that it requires an entire bottle of bleach to stem the stench, I would not look that gift horse in the mouth. Though I would wonder if I found myself behind the wheel of a large automobile with a beautiful wife, and might very well declare she was not mine.
*sigh* Eight and a half years of graduate school. What the hell? I thought I'd get awarded a tweed jacket with suede elbow patches and a pipe for finishing. Instead, I'm right back in Bushwick.
Apparently it's time to get rid of that damned pesky pet cat. At work today I'm on phone detail as the phone minion is out. Phone rings, I answer, say name of company.
"I got a cat for y'all."
"Pardon?"
"A cat. I got a cat for you to pick up."
Now I'm thinking, cat, like the animal, or cat, like, you know, dude or something. "I'm sorry?"
"Innit this the number ya call when you got a cat you want picked up or whatever?"
"Uh, nooooooooo..... really really not."
"Sheee-it. I guess I got the wrong number then."
"Yep, I'd say you do."
Long pause. Finally he hangs up. Poor kitty.
INCLUDING THE CITIES OF...WASHINGTON...FREDERICK...WESTMINSTER...
GAITHERSBURG...COLUMBIA...BALTIMORE...ANNAPOLIS...WALDORF...
ST MARYS CITY...LEESBURG...CULPEPER...MANASSAS...MANASSAS PARK...
FAIRFAX...ALEXANDRIA...FALLS CHURCH...FREDERICKSBURG
426 AM EDT TUE JUL 18 2006
...HEAT ADVISORY REMAINS IN EFFECT FROM NOON TODAY TO 8 PM EDT
THIS EVENING...
A HOT AND HUMID AIRMASS WILL REMAIN IN PLACE ACROSS THE REGION
TODAY. IT WILL BE EVEN MORE HUMID THIS AFTERNOON AND EVENING
COMPARED TO MONDAY...AND JUST AS HOT. WITH HIGH TEMPERATURES
RANGING FROM THE UPPER 90S TO AROUND 100 THIS AFTERNOON...AND
COMBINED WITH HIGH HUMIDITY...EXPECT MAXIMUM HEAT INDEX VALUES
TO RANGE BETWEEN 105 TO 109 DEGREES.
oh my... still no a/c in the office... ug....
Update: We've been mercifully told to work at home today.
