::job-lookin' rant

I have just spent four hours in Panera, searching and applying for jobs online.

Frustration abounds.

My tolerance for tedium has overgrown its boundaries.

If you are not a job-seeker, let me break it down for you:

Oh, you want to apply for this job?

Awesome!

Go to our company website.

Click on 50 different categories until you find "Job openings."

Upload your resume.

Now, fill in your full, 200-question profile.

Type in every last teeny-tiny slot, giving us all the information that your resume already provides.

Now, choose a username.

Sorry! Choose a different one.

Now, choose a password.

Verify your password.

Sorry! Choose a new password.

Verify your new password.

Check your email for a verification.

Tell us what you did at your last job.

Why did you leave?

Explain why you didn't work for more a week.

Tell us what you did at the job before that.

Why did you leave?

Explain why you're a loser who can't find a job.

Home phone?

Work phone?

Cell phone?

Preferred phone?

Email?

Home address?

Current address?

Work address?

Certifications?

Confirmation numbers?

Please verify your account with us...

We're sorry, your account cannot be verified.

Please clear your schedule for the next two hours, re-enter all information, and try again.

OR

Congratulations! Your online application has been submitted.

You have now been reduced to slices of text on a monitor screen.

Unless we know you or anyone else who knows you at all, you will never hear from us.

Thank you.

Have a splendid day.

::animaniac

I love taking care of my friends' animals.
The past year has given me more "gigs" in this arena than I can even label with numbers.

The older I become, the more animals fascinate me, and the more I relish the discovery of their quirks and personalities.

Pippin, the Maltese:

My dear, sweet Pippin is the dog who consoled me during a very painful break-up last spring. Seriously.
I wrote a poem about it.
He is my canine Muse.
He is one chivalrous little gentleman.

Cassie, the neurotic-yet-very-sweet-and-lovable Papillon:


Cassie is a quirky, diminutive little companion I can lift up with one hand, which is convenient because she demands to be everywhere with me.
Her presence is truly a comforting blessing.

Matilda - "Mattie" - my friend Kim's beautiful, sweet kitty:


She loves to venture outdoors for all manner of mysterious shenanigans, even during the frigid winter months.
When she's inside, she likes to linger near me, just out of reach, often adorably bashful and elusive.

Pumpkin, the cat who loves my purse:


Pumpkin's connection with me is somewhat mysterious, as she rarely "warms up" to anyone. Her owners, my dear friends Susan and Lloyd, have been amazed at Pumpkin's friendly spirit toward me; she sleeps with me and cannot stand to have my attention directed anywhere else when she's in my room. If I'm reading, she literally covers the book (or the laptop keyboard) with her paws, stares at me, and purrs irresistibly.
Her unexpected alliance with me has earned me the title of The Cat Whisperer.

Is there such a thing as a Professional Pet-sitter?
And if so, can I please become one?

::guffaw

I laugh a lot.

Chances are very good that if I know you, we have laughed together on several occasions.

My friend Erin once told me that it's "very satisfying" to make me laugh.
(Of course, I giggled at this.)

She took this photo:

I find laughter a beautiful gift and a glorious tool in life; for shaving the edge off of awkwardness, for shining tiny beams of light - however momentary - into dreary circumstances.

I've laughed in hospitals and hospices, in funeral homes, in counseling offices, in classrooms while teaching and learning.

Sometimes I laugh because there is nothing else to do.

And sometimes, because it's the only thing to do.

::friday fun

I stole this from Stephanie. Y'all should read her other blog too.

Anyway.

Friday Fun Board questions:

1. The Royal Wedding: hot or not?

-- Not. Meh. I still don't get why I'm supposed to care.

2. Favorite board game?

-- Apples to Apples & Scrabble.

3. What food reminds you of your childhood?

-- Caramel corn. My family used to make it from scratch at camp.

4a. What isn't a sport, but should be?

-- Speed-reading.

4b. What is a sport, but shouldn't be?

-- Cheerleading. I know they work hard and all, but is it even necessary?

::commemoration

Since becoming a liturgist (one of two) at my church last summer, I have harbored a great desire to write prayers and litanies for worship.
I've been particularly interested in composing a Confession of Sin.
To commemorate the unspeakable violence endured by God Incarnate on my behalf, I share here my own confessions.

Confession of Sin for Good Friday:

Against You, O Lord, have I transgressed.

I have savored what I needed to ignore, and neglected what I needed to cherish.

I have reduced my fellow humans - complex creatures sculpted in Your image - to things; physical bodies, convenient categories, collections of qualities I either admire or disdain.

I have failed to trust and accept Your love, and the love of those who sincerely care for me.

I have squandered priceless blessings, failing to acknowledge Your unspeakable grace, generosity, and providence.

I have failed to follow You faithfully, too often bowing instead to cursory sensations.

I have been enticed by flashy fallacy, willingly deceived by hollow philosophy.

I have failed to uplift You at the center of my soul.

Lord, have mercy.

Amen.

::acrostic love

As I may have mentioned, I adore my 2-year-old niece, Emma.

A few weeks ago, after I assigned Acrostic poems to my class, I decided to write one of my own.

Enthusiastically greeting each new endeavor,
More eloquent than any toddler should be,
Merry creator of joy and laughter,
A fervent burst of sunshine for every soul.

::spoken

I wrote my first poem in the second grade and read it to my class for Show and Tell.

I now teach poetry to teenagers, and sometimes perform my own poems in small, cozy venues.

I never cared much for "spoken word" delivery, as it always seemed to make poets sound flamboyantly self-important.

This woman, though?
I love her.
Sarah Kay.
Watch this.