Friday, July 31, 2009

Movie update

The ugly truth? Do not see "The Ugly Truth". Even looking at pretty Gerard Butler can't save that movie, which was badly, badly in need of a script editor. It also perpetuates the terribly misguided notion of what life as a journalist is about...except all the Red Bull drinking. That part is true.

Coming soon, my review of "Funny People" and also of some books I read.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Damn Dirty Machines

Applying for job has become such a soul-less affair. You sit in front of a computer and search for job listings. Then you apply online. There are specific directions not to call, least you be banned forever from ever working for that company. According to the automated response, due to the high volume of applications received for everything from coffee girl at the local hospital cafeteria to content creator at ESPN.com, no one will contact you unless your resume is somehow magically chosen. And now, NOW your resume isn't even viewed by humans any more. Computers look at the experience on your resume and see how it matches up with the job requirements. Can you believe that?

How is a computer going to understand that my decade of experience in the land of journalism is actually very good training for that job in the public affairs office at West Point. That in fact, yes, since I worked as an assigning editor, I do actually know what assigning editors are looking for in a press release in order to turn it into an actual story, in order to get that ink that you so desperately need to justify the entire existence of the public affairs department. That as someone who actually worked as a reporter, I know how important it is to get the releases to the right person and not just assume that someone who worked there five years ago is still at the paper. No. What the computer will see is that I've never worked as a public affairs officer before and therefore must have no idea how the job is done. But do you know who really has no idea how the job is done? Public affairs officers. Because they've NEVER ACTUALLY WORKED IN THE MEDIA AND THEREFORE HAVE NO IDEA WHAT CONSTITUTES A NEWS STORY!!!!

I did actually send my application in for the afore mentioned job at West Point (and ESPN.com — though haven't yet gotten desperate enough to apply for the coffee girl spot....I do like coffee, though). I'm now trying to work out exactly how to get that resume in front of an actual person. My dad had an idea that at first I though was dumb, but now I think might just be brilliant. He said I should write my U.S. Senator and Congressman — and write them all. The ones from New York AND the ones from Mississippi. And you know, he might be on to something. I mean, I don't think there's a snowballs chance in hell that Chuck Schumer or John Hall are going to call up West Point and say, "Hey will someone please just look at this girl's resume." But I do think the odds are fairly good that Thad Cochran might make a move in that direction. I mean, I'm not expecting him to get me a job at West Point, but the man forced the V.A. hospital to take my dad on as a patient after they had told him several times the waiting list was so long it'd be eight years before he might have a chance to get in. He is not above the minutia of his job. And he strikes me as just the type of person to be as pissed off as I am that a computer is picking who gets a job and who doesn't in the federal government.

Didn't we learn anything from "The Matrix," people? We can't let the machines win.

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

A day in the life of an unemployed journalist

9:15 a.m. Get up. Wander into kitchen. Make coffee. Feed pets. Take dog out to pee. Eat hot cereal even though its 85 degrees outside.

10:15 a.m. Check e-mail, newspapers, etc. Realize with a panic that somehow an hour has disappeared from her life. Give dog his pills.

11:15 a.m. Play tennis. Well, actually, hit the ball against a wall out on the tennis court because there is no one to play tennis with.

Noon: Fed up with playing tennis, retire back to apartment. Change into swim suit, go to pool

2 p.m. Take a shower. Eat lunch.

2:45 p.m. Finally sit down to do something to job search related.

6 p.m. Walk dog.

7 p.m. Wash dishes, fold clothes, do other miscellaneous household chores.

9 p.m. Eat dinner. Watch Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2. Complain about how it's not as good as the first one.

9:51 p.m. Write blog.

Sad isn't it.

Monday, July 27, 2009

Apartment blues

My roommate is moving out at the end of August. She's decided she's had enough of New York, long commutes, her ridiculously small salary, living in the living room and dealing with the crazy ex. And she misses her family. So she's quit her job and is planning to go to graduate school, like everyone else without a job in journalism. She seems pretty happy about her decision and I'm glad for her.

Now my problem is what to do. My unemployment is about $400 a week. The federal government takes out taxes, which seems ridiculous, but whatever. Plus I have to pay about $150 a month for COBRA. I'm estimating this will leave me with about $1,250 a month. My rent is $1,050 a month. My cell phone (I have no home phone) is about $100 a month. That leaves me $100 to pay for gas, electricity, internet, food, outstanding credit card bills, car insurance and any other unexpected costs. You don't have to be a math genius to figure out that's not going to work.

My lease, is through the end of April. So I went to find out what it would cost to get out of my lease, because if I don't get a job locally I'll have to move — either for a new job or in with my parents. These are my options: 1) find someone they approve of to sublease my apartment. They have to go through a background check and the apartment complex has to sign off on them, but they keep my security deposit and I'm ultimately responsible for the apartment and its rent or 2) use the "emergency exit" clause, which is a penalty of two months rent (I have about $3,000 in my savings account, so that would wipe that out), plus I have to give two months notice. How can anyone give two months notice when they get a new job in a new city? So if I were to give notice now, I couldn't move out until Nov. 1, plus I'd have to pay two months rent on top of that. What a scam...especially since the apartment complex is always claiming to have a waiting list for its apartments.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

The Proposal

Funny. Go see it now, if you have any soul and a secret love of chick flicks.

I'm planning on seeing again with my roommate, who could use a little pick-me-up after she had to call the cops on her ex-boyfriend yesterday. He has been harassing her at work (she blocked him number from her cell and changed her e-mail account). She told him she never wanted to see him again. (Long story short: He cheated on her. She took him. He cheated on her with the same girl. She moved out. She took him back. He cheated on her with the same girl. He begged for yet another chance. While she was considering it, he had the other girl move in with him. She said she never wanted to see him again. Now he says he's changed and can't live without her AND — my favorite part — wants to help HER.) So he showed up at the train station and waited for her to get off. Then started begging her to take him back. When she reiterated how she didn't want to see him again. He started screaming, so she got in her car and drove home. He promptly followed her home. I had previously seen a police officer driving around our complex, so I went to look for him. But it turns out she had called the police and I bumped into a second police officer who was looking for our apartment.

He's been warned not to contact her again or they'll arrest him and he's too much of a wimp to try anything other than a few more e-mails. I'm not worried, though she is. She's all convinced he's going to come over with a shot gun that his dad owns. That, and every time we go somewhere she's looking for his red pickup truck...even when it's some places he's never ever been before and also not any place he would necessarily think to look for us (random deli stop). But I think she secretly likes the drama (which is why she kept making up excuses to get back into contact with him even after she declared she never wanted to hear from him again) and the attention is gets her. That might be a horrible thing to say, and she may not even realize that that's what she's doing, but she is the baby of her family. You know how youngest children are.

Anyway, that's all to say, see "The Proposal." It's very funny.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Update on Media Participation

Even before unemployment I had managed to up my movie intake, due primarily to my dating someone who was 1) unemployed and 2) lover of movies. We have very different tastes in movies. He likes chick flicks ("Devil Wears Prada" is his favorite), bro movies (what's that one with McLovin'? That's his second favorite movie of all time.) and mob movies (He was totally appalled that I hadn't seen "Goodfellas," which he has now remedied.) My favorite genres are foreign and independent films (or as he puts it, subtitle films) and sci fi. This has translated to me going to "The Hang Over" with him and his coming to see "Star Trek" with me.

So below is a summary of the movies I've seen in the last two months or so and a brief line on what I thought:

1. Harry Potter: I didn't read the books, but I have seen all the movies. This is the first one that hasn't felt like a completed movie. It seems entirely dependent on whatever comes next, which bothers me. I like, in a series, when a movie can stand on its own. Also WAY too long. They should have cut it from 2.5 hours to 2 hours.

2. Public Enemies: Again, way too long. The pacing was off and I kept thinking we were at the end, but we weren't. Johnny Depp and Christian Bale - pretty to look at; also very good acting. Marion Cotillard - also pretty to look at; wish I looked like her. Oh, and also very good acting, though her accent bothered me a little. There are a lot of other famous people scattered throughout the cast that you aren't expecting like Giovanni Ribisi, Billy Crudup and Leelee Sobieski. That guy from the first season of CSI: Miami and Diana Krall also make appearances. And Madison Dirks. He has a credited role. When did he start getting in movies?

3. The Hangover: Funnier than I expected; though as you might have guessed, most of the funnies bits were in the trailers and commercials.

4. Up: Probably the best of the movies I've seen this summer. We saw it in 3D, which everyone said was totally worth the extra money, but I wasn't all that impressed with the 3D. The previews for upcoming movies (the one where spaghetti falls from the sky and the one with the hamsters saving the world both look like they're going to be awesome in 3D). I think you'll be fine seeing this one in non-3D. But definitely see it.

5.Duplicity: I went to see this based solely on the fact that Clive Owen was in it and I saw him filming it at Grand Central. It was OK. Better than that other Clive Owen movie with Naomi Watts, which I saw based solely on the fact that Clive Owen was in it.

6. Star Trek: Awesome. The second best movie I've seen in the last two and half months. Even if you've never watched an episode of the Star Treks or seen any of the movies (like my date), you'll be able to follow this and, I think, like it. Of course, if you're a Star Trek fan, you'll like it even more.

7. Wolverine: Meh. You do get to see Hugh Jackman naked, though.

8. Ghosts of Girlfriends Past: WTF? A retelling of The Christmas Carol that was released in May? Who thought that was a brilliant marketing strategy? Who?

Today I'm off to see The Proposal. Look for another update on all the movies I've seen in July and the books I've FINALLY had time to read, soon.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Laid off, Lain off

I recently got laid off at work and then promptly went and spent a week lounging around the beaches of Puerto Rico (thus the lain part of this post). The vacation was planned pre-lay offs and happened two days before I was set to begin my week off. Upon my return, I signed up for unemployment. I could have done it while I was gone, but somehow that seemed very wrong.

Among the things I did for the newspaper as it's assistant local editor (what is known to the rest of the non-Gannett universe as an assistant city editor) was write a monthly column, which ran on Saturdays. My Saturday was up the week I got laid off. Because I had an idea it was coming, I actually wrote two columns: one, which would have run if by some miracle I was not laid off, and one, which was meant to be my last column. Neither ran.

But now, since I have time on my hand and no outlet for my creativity, I've decided to post my last two columns here and then maybe write up some other ones, which I had kicking around in my head, but didn't have the time to write. I will post the final column now. This will probably make no sense to most of you since you've never heard of these people. But some of it will still be funny, I think.

I'm beginning to think that getting laid off is a right of passage for people my age. As if Generation X should be renamed Generation Ex.

The number of people I know who have been laid off now seems roughly equal to the number of those who have not. And I have a feeling that the un- column will end up much longer than the employed one. We long ago gave up on the antiquated notion of "pensions" and "job security" and are starting to do the same with the numbers 401.

And so, as I prepare to join the un- column above, I thought, in this column, I'd share with you the Top Ten things you didn't know about the Poughkeepsie Journal.

10. We have the largest collection of captive monkeys in the entire world. Granted, they are monkeys of the plastic and stuffed variety (some also exist in plate and potato peeler form), but still it's one for the record books. And they all live on the desk of a certain local editor who shall remain nameless. (OK, it's Kevin Lenihan. Please send him all the monkeys you can, c/o the Poughkeepsie Journal, because he's going to need them to stave off loneliness once I'm gone... and he's going to have plenty of extra desk space to keep them on.)

9. The Culinary Institute of America wishes it had the cooking talent of the PoJo staff. All I can tell you is, people will attend the most mind numbingly dull meetings detailing the ins and outs of the new paper shredder if it means there will be brownies from Kevin, zucchini chocolate cake from Barbara or the crack known as rum cake from Kathleen. Seriously, people have come to blows over that rum cake.

8. We sometimes have bats in the newsroom. No. Really. Actual bats. The flying kind. And they are never, ever accompanied by Christian Bale — sadly. John Davis and I had to capture one in a box one Saturday because the entire staff was hold up in the men's bathroom and refused to come out. And since neither of us knew how to paginate, it was either gonna be the bat or a crash course in QuarkXpress. And the bat lost.

7. If you have watched the movies, "Sleepless in Seattle," "The Ring," "Message in a Bottle," "State of Play," or "All the President's Men" you have no idea what the modern American newsroom is like. (Though we do have a blonde on staff.)

6. If you have watched "The Paper," or the third season of "The Wire," ore read Dilbert, you do.

5. I have worked in a college cafeteria, a Wendy's in Baton Rouge, for the Maryland-National Capital Park Police and The Washington Times and never, NEVER in all that time have I seen a more disgusting refrigerator than the one on the third floor of the Journal. Last week I threw out some yogurt from 2006 and something that I believe began its life as a hot dog, but ended it all white and fuzzy. Someone should call Entergy. I think they could heat all of New York City on what's in that fridge.

4. Michael Valkys is the best reporter I've ever worked with. Period. (He's so good, I would have put an expletive between best and reporter, but this is a family paper.) For the last three years I've come in every day marveling at the fact he's still here, covering the town and city of Poughkeepsie — along with the occasional car show and gala — instead of working at the New York Times, where he belongs. Consider yourself lucky, Poughkeepsie. You and we don't deserve him.

3. The Advice Goddess, Kim Commando and that woman who writes the horoscopes do not work in our building. Please stop calling and asking for them.

2. Just because you own a bottle of Tabasco sauce and you dump it on some chicken or red beans or whatever, this does not make it "Cajun." (That actually has nothing at all to do with the Journal. It's just a pet peeve of mine and I thought I'd take advantage of the soap box before I have to pack it full of my books and leave.)

1. The most common second professions for laid off journalists are: teacher and lawyer. And we all know there are enough teachers and lawyers in the world. So, please, PLEASE, do us all a favor and buy a newspaper every day. If you keep a journalist employed, you might just prevent us all from living through a third-grade production of "Les Miserables" done completely in mime and the subsequent lawsuits from those forced to watch it that ensues. Trust me. No one wants that.


Wednesday, July 08, 2009

Snakes

I hate snakes. I hate them. I HATE them.

All snakes terrify me. Even dead ones. Even shed snake skin. Snakes and heights (or falling, I'm told) are my two greatest fears, and they are paralyzing kinds of fears. I see a snake and I freeze. I cannot move at all. I can't breath. And I certainly can't call for help.

So, of course, I live at Snake Central, where everyday is an adventure in "How many snakes will see on my walk today." At least here, the only snakes seem to be of the gartner snake variety, as opposed to my parents house where they are of the Amazon rain forest/rattlesnake/I will eat your baby for lunch kind of variety.

This summer a snake has moved into my complex. She/he lives below the steps to my apartment. She/he likes to come out during the day and sun her/himself in a little coil by the steps. At first, this terrified me. I was somehow convinced the snake would come into my apartment in the night, get into the bed with me and then slither all over my feet, at which point, I would quite literally DIE of fright. The snake has yet to do this. Instead, a curious thing has happened, I find myself checking in on the snake everyday. I look for it every time I go in and out of the apartment and I slowly realized that I am not afraid of this snake any more. I am not about to touch it as my neighbor was doing the other day. But I also feel a little bit protective of it.

Today I heard some of the guys, who are working on the apartment above mine, out front talking about killing a snake. Before I could yell out the window, "No. No. That's OUR snake." I heard what sounded like a shovel hitting pavement, some laughter and language I can't repeat here, and then a triumphant declaration that he snake was dead. I was heartbroken. Our snake was dead. Little Paulina is dead. (I don't know. The snake strikes me as a female, so I gave it a girl's name.) But then when I left for work today, I saw that the snake was curled up in little sun coil — warming herself as always, and I actually felt joy.

I'm still terrified of all other snakes and I have no idea why this snake has moved me so much. But if a snake and I can become friends, then who knows what will come next. World peace, anyone?