The Idiot Box

Ordinarily I don't watch too much TV; but in the last couple weeks I've had a couple of DVD-inspired epiphanies that have warmed the cockles of my heart (such as they are.) The first one occurred while hanging out with my good friend, Rat Girl. She had I have had some issues to work out lately, and they came to a head a bit a week or two ago. We had to have a long talk (at Denny's, of all places) where we sort of went around in circles, and expressed our frustration with each other, and we finally got to a place where we were both tired and a bit unhappy, but had said all we had to say. So she said, "wanna come over and watch some TV?" and I said sure, why not.... so we went to her place and (after determining that The L-Word was not an option) popped a Justice League DVD in the player. This is the recent incarnation of the old Hanna-Barbara Superfriends cartoon that I knew and loved as a kid; more edgy animation and plotting, and really overall pretty sharp looking. So we watched about 4 episodes, and about halfway through the experience she shook her head and said, "God, Green Lantern is such a choad." Which was exactly what I had been thinking at the time. I laughed, she laughed, we agreed, and I think that while we may not agree about some issues, we may have hit a rough spot, it's not insignificant that we still both firmly recognize Green Lantern to be an asshat.

Such things are geek friendship based on. Another kind of geekdom got brought back to the forefront of my mind when I went over to January Molasses' house to help her buy a new fish (HER fishbuying, unlike mine, does not end in tragedy--details forthcoming on my other blog.) After acquiring 2 new members of the Molasses household, we ended up watching some of her vast DVD collection of Xena: Warrior Princess. She wanted to show me a particular episode which I hadn't seen before, and which presented some of the frustrating lack of internal logic that got me to stop watching the show way back when it was originally airing in the late '90s. I present for you, here, the issue and my frustration:
Xena, Warrior Princess and Erstwhile Sidechick Gabrielle hook up with another woman warrior, who is an odd blend of Joan d'Arc and I Dream of Jeannie. She is fighting for light and good, because the voices in her head tell her to. She kicks ass and takes names, and kills the hell out of a lot of bad people, assisted by Xena's sword and Gabrielle's bonkin' stick. Bodies stack up like cordwood, as they do in every episode of this show, and that's fine because that's why we watch it! Combat sequences without end! RAHHH!! So after each battle, the Light Champion offers to let the survivors "turn away from the dark," in a ceremony that looks surprisingly like a cult initiation ("No, Gabrielle! Don't drink the Kool-Aid!") And then surprise surprise, it turns out that if they don't convert in 3 days, she kills 'em. Xena and Gaby are shocked and amazed, and proceed to lecture her on how these evil slavers deserve a fair trial (but slavery is technically legal in this fantasy world! so who's going to convict them of what exactly?) and then turn her in to the cops, who are probably going to kill her because she's been yomping on bad guys all over the countryside. Hmm. Nice work, guys.

I know some of my friends get frustrated with me because of my "negative attitude" about things they like, like Xena or Battlestar Galactica or CSI. But really, I get frustrated because I care--because I think Xena was such a great show when it WAS good! And then you get episodes which beat you over the head with a seemingly illogical moral point, like this one. Or are painfully badly written--don't start me on the opera episode! JM and I spent an hour trying to figure out which one that was in her vast collection of DVD's so we could watch it with actor commentary... which was, by the way, hilarious. Even a bad episode of Xena is much enhanced by hearing Lucy Lawless yelling, "Yeh, look there, I'm slipping ya the tongue! Whooooo!!" during a sensitive Xena/Gabrielle moment. Two thumbs up!

Just for the sake of variety....

Instead of worrying about a job that I don't have yet, let me take a moment to express frustration over a job I've already got.

For anyone who doesn't know the backstory, I work in the hobby game industry. I work for a very small company which, despite being small, has a rather rabid following of fans on 3 continents, and makes a really, really good product. It has all the ingredients for blockbuster success, except 1) capital, and 2) a good businessman at the helm. I love my boss, he's creative and funny and talented, and yet he seems to have no clue how to manage the company in any way other than just-barely-surviving mode. He refuses to even consider taking out a small-business loan, so when we need to do something which has a high up-front cost (like, say, a print run of one of our books) we can't. Today he told me we're down to a 6 month supply of one of our core books. As his sales manager, I pointed out that it could be a 6 month supply, or a 1 month supply, depending on distributor ordering cycles, and maybe we should consider a new print run soon. No, he said, the smart thing to do would be to let it go out of print for a few months and let orders pile up. Then we'll be able to pay the printing costs when we do reprint it. But, says I, it's our core product! We don't want distributors to ever be out of this, because without it on the shelf a new player can't start playing our game! If they're out of it for 6 months, that will have a serious effect on sales of our entire line; and it's part of the nature of printed products, that they have a high upfront cost. This is what loans are for--you pay them back over time, as the product sells down. (And, think I to myself, we sold a ton of misprinted books at cons this summer, which were cost $0 since the printer had to replace them. That pure-profit money could have been set aside to pay for a new print run, if you had thought of it and planned ahead. But I didn't say this.) Nope, he says, being out of print will increase demand, and I don't like asking banks for money anyway, they'd probably just say no. So no. Now, as sales manager, very soon I am going to have to be the one to explain to all our distributors, including the ones I have carefully recruited and cultivated overseas in the last year, that we're real sorry but we'll be out of the basic rules of our game for--if I know him--six months to a year. That's going to be awesome.

This would all bother me a lot more if I hadn't made a new year's resolution to stop giving a crap about what happens to this company. As I said before, I love my boss, our product, and the hobby industry in general; but damned if I'm going to get an ulcer worrying about the fate of a company that is so completely beyond my zone of control. I've spent two years agonizing over poor decisionmaking at this company. Now I've reached a sort of detatched level of "Meh--oh well" about the whole thing. Not that I don't hope for success--but I'm getting pretty used to us falling short of the mark.

Fingernails that Shine Like Justice...

No, I didn't really get a manicure before yesterday's interview. I did get a haircut though, and wore the aforementioned nice shirt, and it was all very pleasant and more or less unstressful. Now comes the waiting part, during which I try not to think about the scary possibilities (both not getting the job, and getting the job.) I also went back and bought the first jacket, with complimentary-colored pants, so my clothing options have increased still more, and am sending out 2 more resumes this week.

The big get-off-my-ass project that now stares me in the face is the downstairs den, which needs new carpet. I've promised myself I will order said carpet before the end of the month; the room has to be completely de-junked before then, and the foldout couch from hell needs to be dismantled and removed. (Removing it without dismantling it isn't an option. All my friends who helped me move last time have witnessed the pure evil that is that couch---among other things, it weighs appoximately 800 lbs and likes to unfold its dangerous steel innards while being lifted and carried--and there's no way I could con any of them into helping me move it ever again.) So sometime during this week I am going to tackle the de-junking of the room, and the boxing up of small objects which are not junk, and the clearing off of the desk, and then maybe I'll be ready to call the carpet guy. Whooo! On a roll now.....

Ill-Suited For the Job

Today I bought a suit. Having the prospect of job interviews means needing clothing that 1) fits, 2) looks professional, and 3) looks even more professional. I actually think I dress quite well most of the time, but I've put on some weight recently, and I felt like I might need to stage things up a notch for the possible uberjob interview anyway.... so since there's safety in numbers, I called up a friend and invited her to be my fashion consultant for the day, in exchange for a beer afterwards. I figured she would be a sympathetic shopping partner, as she too has somewhat eclectic taste in clothing and would not dress in a suit unless the occasion overtly demanded it. She told me once about finding out that a potential employer had described her as "an Earth Mother type." I asked her what the hell that meant, and she said, "I think it means I have large breasts and wear a lot of natural fibers."

So the Earth Mother and I hit Macy's to check out the possibilities. Frustratingly, I found a jacket which I really liked right off the bat... only to find that there were no matching pants available to turn it from a jacket into a "suit." It was a slightly odd color, and 30 minutes of searching throughout the store found nothing that looked quite close enough to be convincing. WTF, Macy's?!? If I were a guy, I'd walk into the men's department, and every freakin' suitjacket would have matching pants. Dammit. So anyway, we combed the store and found a suit that was workable, if still not quite as satisfying as my first jacket love. I'm now the proud owner of a black suit with a tiny blue pinstripe, and an additional shirt for the not-quite-demanding-a-suit-but-still-shouldn't-wear-a-regular-shirt-and-sweater occasions, which I think this Monday will be. As someone who has always passionately hated shopping for clothes, I can say this wasn't half bad, other than the lack of pants for that one jacket. I actually might check out the other Macys in town before I give up fully on that... Having 2 possible suits wouldn't be a bad thing. Hell, it doubles my dressing options.

Moving Right Along

And today, a third job app opp drops in my lap. (Hey, that's a lot of aps and ops.) Must be something about January, a lot of places get their new budgets sorted out, and can finally advertise positions that might have lain fallow for the last months of 2006. Good-o for me, the more the merrier. I'm still printing out my portfolio--and trying to decide what to leave out. I want 8 projects in there, and I have 7 good ones, and 3 of questionable value but more visually exciting. (Basically, we're talking research papers vs. projects with pretty pictures. Both are useful, but I wish some of my group projects hadn't actually been done by a group, if you get my drift...) And then I need to type up a summary sheet. And then I am actually prepared to respond when people say, "Sure, I'd love to see your portfolio!"

The question arose as to why my Current Life plan isn't making a list and crossing stuff off it; that's what most people do, after all, and it gives them a sense of satisfaction and completion, while allowing them to organize their thoughts. But for me, a list is all about the things on it you DIDN'T get done..... and there are things that I've needed to do for months--like, say, take the pets to the vet. That is going to have to happen when schedule permits, but I've been putting it off for various reasons (time, money being the two big ones. Three cats at a vet isn't a cheap visit.) If I made a list, and that was on it, I'd feel more and more inadequate each time I looked at the list and couldn't cross that off, even if I'd done a bunch of other minor things that also needed doing but hadn't made the list. I mean, how often can you write "laundry," and then cross it off, then write it again, then cross it off..... Now, I can sit at the end of the day and say, "really now--what did you get done?" and I can say, well, I swept the dining room (even though I didn't recycle all the newspapers on the table) and put oil in the car (though I didn't take it in for a tuneup, that'll hold it til I can get over there) and paid some bills, and hey--if I spend 15 minutes before bed tidying up the bathroom, I can write that down too! Look how much I did!

To each their own mind games. If it gets the bathroom clean, I'll take it.

Another Day, Another Job App

Another modestly promising-looking job listing got forwarded to me today. This is well and good; as I mentioned, the last job app is quite the long shot for me. It's becoming even longer, as I have not yet finished the contract project I've been working on for the last 3 weeks, and I sense that completing it in an impressive manner will be key to my getting an interview for the Uberjob (as we'll call job #1.) Getting one for job #2, which we'll call the Fishjob, is probably reliant solely on my ability to convince people that just because I don't have a degree in wildlife sciences doesn't mean I'm completely ignorant about natural science and biology. I wish I did have a degree in Wildlife science. Maybe I should go back to school again. And again. Because degrees are like potato chips, once you start it's hard to stop..... and then you get really, really sick.

Checkin' It Twice

I've begun making a list of everything I accomplish each day; I think this will help with my general sense that I never get anything done, along with motivating me to get a few more things on the list each day. Somehow writing it down seems to be a reward for me; I took a lot of pleasure today in adding "20% H2O change + filters, paid bills, returned Ed's DVD, took down Xmas tree," to my journal, all before noon. I'm inching slowly but surely toward a more energetic Me, I think.

I've watched 2 of the 14 Tarzan movies I got for Xmas so far, I'm trying to ration them out. Though I somehow suspect that the further we go, the worse the films will be and the more I'll want to just rush through them--particularly the RKO years, that blonde Jane just doesn't do it for me. It's generally accepted that the best of the lot is "Tarzan and His Mate" (1934)--higher production values, more risque interaction between Tarzan, Jane, and the bad guy, aka Martinmyfriend. The nude swimming scene is restored in this version--I'd seen it before, of course, it's been available since the late 80's. But still, serves as a pleasant reminder that our puritanical ideas about sex in the media were really a creation of the 1940's and 50's; and the wheel has obviously come back around again. But there's a tendency to assume that every generation before "ours" was uptight and straightlaced, and of course that's not true at all. Just ask Tarzan and Jane!

An Exercise in Futility

I'm applying for another job this week. It's at a place where I've applied for 4-5 jobs in the last two years.... I begin to feel like I should start my cover letters with "hello, it's me again, sorry to bother you." Actually, I feel like that with a lot of institutions around town. Merely making myself sit down and write the cover letter today was a bit of an achievement, and I also feel like I shouldn't be putting a lot of effort into it because I know they're looking for someone with a lot more experience in the field than I've managed to gather. So I'm grumbly.

Some of the grumble at the moment though is stemming from the fact that I've decided to put together a portfolio (a wise decision, as I've been telling people "Let me know if you'd like to see my portfolio!" Good if I could back that up.) I actually have a number of projects which will look quite shiny in said portfolio; the grumbles come in with the fact that a number of them are a long series of single-page documents in Adobe Illustrator, a fantastic program which I barely explore the potential of. This means printing takes FOREVER. I've been printing for an hour and I've only got about 15 pages of one of my projects done. And I've not even gotten to the pages with the hi-res photos of actual artwork. Still, I'm getting it done, and should have an actual zip binder full of projects to show off by the end of the week. Here's hoping I get someone to show them to!

So, What is a Wax Lion Exactly?

The Wax Lion is a character on a television show called "Wonderfalls." Jaye Tyler is fresh out of college with a philosophy degree, and has gone directly into a crappy retail job selling cheap Niagara Falls souveniers. She's cynical, she's bitter, she's funny, and she's not doing anything other than bitch about her life. One day, one of the tchotchkes, a small misshapen wax lion from one of those injection mold machines starts talking to her and telling her to do things that don't make sense. She resists, she thinks she's going crazy, but when she finally breaks down and does what the lion is telling her to do, things work out, weirdly, for the best.... and her life starts to change. As the show progresses, more and more inanimate objects start talking to Jaye and telling her to essentially get off her ass. We don't know how it would have turned out in the long run, because the network cancelled it after 13 episodes--but it certainly seemed like Jaye was going in the right direction.

I am the Wax Lion. I'm also Jaye. I'm 36, I'm single, I have not one but three liberal arts degrees, and yet I don't have a job that pays the bills or provides me with health benefits. I want to be able to listen to the inner voice that's telling me to stop feeling so sorry for myself and get off my ass. I want to be the person who does rather than is done to, acting instead of just reacting, who can face individual defeats with confidence, and see the big picture of my life rather than obsessing over each piece of the puzzle. The Lion is an articulation of my own thoughts. Plus, he's also funny as hell. And he sings. Badly.