Alright, I will admit that I haven't been keeping up with this blog because it's too damn depressing. And I had a period of time there where all I wanted to do was go to bed and be unconscious. Not sleep, just be out because it was more appealing that the alternative, which is currently three jobs that add up to a grand total of a little over $13K a year. I'm living in the lap of luxury, folks.
A lot has happened since I last blogged, but that mostly comprises me running around like a headless chicken trying to keep the days of the week straight. Mondays and Wednesdays, I work at the community college as a Master Tutor (which sounds more impressive than it is; Master Tutor = I have a college degree), then in the afternoons I babysit. Yes. I babysit. At 30. To pay my bills. Brilliant. Tuesdays and Thursdays I work 8 hour shifts grading standardized tests for a local company, and they're ESL tests, and the only thing that gets me though those days are some of the adorable answers the students write. Fridays are my "light" days, as I am only tutoring. For now, I have the weekends off, but I have been contemplating a fourth job. Which I already know would be a bad idea, but I'm just that broke.
I am behind on Sallie Mae, which is to say that I haven't made a single payment, and my "deferment" is over, and I don't have $150 for another one month deferment. And the monthly payment they want is more than I *make* in a month. So that sucks. I did, however, grab some attention with the diploma I listed on Etsy. I went from a modest 900 views in a month to over 5100 OVERNIGHT. I have Regretsy to thank for that. They linked it on their fan page on Facebook and the response was overwhelming. I suppose the next step would be to get some media attention somehow, but I don't even know where to begin. It would be nice if someone came along and bought it, but I really posted it to bring attention to Sallie Mae's collection "tactics". Because telling me to move into a homeless shelter so I can send them my rent money isn't constructive. It just adds to my already tangible sense of fail.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Sunday, September 27, 2009
No, really, I'm much better.
After nearly 4 years in a crappy rental house, the husbo and I were fortunate enough to stumble upon this fantastic duplex that just *happened* to be available for rent. It also just *happened* to be bigger than our previous crapshack and just *happened* to be cheaper. Like, $210 A MONTH cheaper. So we've spent the last 15 days preparing, painting, packing, and finally moving. We're in the final throws of cleaning 4 years of grime out of the house, and even though there are a few things left to do, I swear the house is cleaner than it was when we moved in. And I bet the landlord will find some asinine reason to keep our security deposit.
In work-related news, I like my job as a tutor, but still feel largely redundant in class. I'm not really there enough to feel like a giant ass full time, but the six hours I'm in class I never know how to "be". It's not my class, but I have an overwhelming urge to teach. To prevent anything that can be construed as overstepping my bounds, I don't say anything. The problem is, neither do any of the students. No one ever seems to willingly contribute to class discussion, and as a result, one professor in particular turns to me to answer questions. The only response I want to give is, "I already have two bachelors degrees. Why don't you ask your students?".
I do have little glimmers, though. I have a student who has "never written a paper before". He comes to me to get help, but he hasn't done any of the pre-writing assignments yet. Hell, he was provided with source articles that he hadn't even read yet. The paper is about weather or not Michael Vick should be allowed back in the NFL. Personally, I think he should be allowed to play ball again when his dogs can.... oh, wait, they're dead. But personal opinions get pushed aside when your goal is to get a student to do his damn work. So I ask if he's read the articles, and it turns out that he's read one... the one that supports HIS opinion, that Vick should be let back in. So I tell him, "The best way to construct an argument is to anticipate what the other side is going to say and make a counter-argument". Translation: Read your damn homework. He sat there and read it... and when he finished, he sat back in his chair, looked at me, and said he was going to change his mind. I got goosebumps... not because this kid suddenly decided to agree with me, but because he came to a conclusion based on research right before my eyes (okay, "research" is a loose term, but I'm going with it). I have no idea if he actually wrote the paper, though...
In work-related news, I like my job as a tutor, but still feel largely redundant in class. I'm not really there enough to feel like a giant ass full time, but the six hours I'm in class I never know how to "be". It's not my class, but I have an overwhelming urge to teach. To prevent anything that can be construed as overstepping my bounds, I don't say anything. The problem is, neither do any of the students. No one ever seems to willingly contribute to class discussion, and as a result, one professor in particular turns to me to answer questions. The only response I want to give is, "I already have two bachelors degrees. Why don't you ask your students?".
I do have little glimmers, though. I have a student who has "never written a paper before". He comes to me to get help, but he hasn't done any of the pre-writing assignments yet. Hell, he was provided with source articles that he hadn't even read yet. The paper is about weather or not Michael Vick should be allowed back in the NFL. Personally, I think he should be allowed to play ball again when his dogs can.... oh, wait, they're dead. But personal opinions get pushed aside when your goal is to get a student to do his damn work. So I ask if he's read the articles, and it turns out that he's read one... the one that supports HIS opinion, that Vick should be let back in. So I tell him, "The best way to construct an argument is to anticipate what the other side is going to say and make a counter-argument". Translation: Read your damn homework. He sat there and read it... and when he finished, he sat back in his chair, looked at me, and said he was going to change his mind. I got goosebumps... not because this kid suddenly decided to agree with me, but because he came to a conclusion based on research right before my eyes (okay, "research" is a loose term, but I'm going with it). I have no idea if he actually wrote the paper, though...
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
This is better?
As a part time tutor at the community college, I get to sit through two classes three times a week. It's basically a high school level class, so I mostly read or write shitty poetry for the amusement of my friends. I don't have the same one-on-one interactions with the students like I did in the high schools, and it bugs me. Mostly because everyone is so quiet. It's not my class, so I can't start dancing on the desks to get their attention (well, I could.....). Even in the hallways, it's too friggin quiet.
The first class I sit through is at 8. Lord, 8 AM comes early after a summer of unemployment. And it's pretty apparent that the students are of the same mindset... especially the girl who's 8 months pregnant and comes in late every day, reeking of cigarettes. Lately, she's been sick, so she comes in, stinks up the place, hacks up a lung, and chugs Diet Mt. Dew. She's maybe all of 19, and she has a 2 year old. It kills me that I'm going to be 30 this year and have done everything in my power to *not* get pregnant.....
In the second class, I have a student who has Flintstone feet. It's pretty insignificant, but I find myself staring at them for the whole hour. He wears the same pair of oversized Adidas sandals, and they offer a perfect view of his stubby toes. In my head, I have nicknamed him Fred.
In other news, for those of you keeping score (the, what... 3 of you who read this?) my sister finally got a job. A real, grownup job with a grownup salary and grown up insurance. I am terribly, terribly excited for her, and relieved, and jealous beyond belief. She'll argue that she's been unemployed since February, which is valid... until I point out that I've been a glorified baby sitter for over a year and have *2* college degrees to her one. So I win the pity contest; hopefully the prize is a waiver for the massive student loans I'm staring down....
The first class I sit through is at 8. Lord, 8 AM comes early after a summer of unemployment. And it's pretty apparent that the students are of the same mindset... especially the girl who's 8 months pregnant and comes in late every day, reeking of cigarettes. Lately, she's been sick, so she comes in, stinks up the place, hacks up a lung, and chugs Diet Mt. Dew. She's maybe all of 19, and she has a 2 year old. It kills me that I'm going to be 30 this year and have done everything in my power to *not* get pregnant.....
In the second class, I have a student who has Flintstone feet. It's pretty insignificant, but I find myself staring at them for the whole hour. He wears the same pair of oversized Adidas sandals, and they offer a perfect view of his stubby toes. In my head, I have nicknamed him Fred.
In other news, for those of you keeping score (the, what... 3 of you who read this?) my sister finally got a job. A real, grownup job with a grownup salary and grown up insurance. I am terribly, terribly excited for her, and relieved, and jealous beyond belief. She'll argue that she's been unemployed since February, which is valid... until I point out that I've been a glorified baby sitter for over a year and have *2* college degrees to her one. So I win the pity contest; hopefully the prize is a waiver for the massive student loans I'm staring down....
Saturday, August 29, 2009
I'm actually doing better.
I still have no job, and had a melt down a few days ago in Office Max over twistable crayons. Crayons. I kid you not. They were a buck, too. What got me was thinking, 'hey, these would be great for my classroom. If I ever GET a classroom...', which set me off. It's another school year and I'm relegated to subbing. Again. I hate subbing, but you do what you have to, I guess.
I have a part time gig as a tutor at the community college. It's 9 hours a week, and I basically sit there and either read or write. I've started a few short stories, which is mildly exciting. I gave up writing after I graduated from college the first time because I was preoccupied with, you know, working. So this has been win-win, I guess... $11 an hour to sit in a high school level class and write my own stuff so it looks like I care about what's being taught. At least it's not a remedial grammar class.
I also have an hour in which I sit in the tutoring center and take students on a drop-in or appointment basis. Last Wednesday, after my first class, I had a pretty busy hour, what with the developmentally challenged student whose class had been canceled and came because he didn't know what else to do (which is actually a pretty good strategy, except he had no assignments to get help with, since, you know, his class was canceled) and a guy who wanted to know if I knew how he could get the information he needed out of a 100+ page reading assignment without doing the actual reading. He wasn't even a student at the college; he's in a Master's program at a local seminary college. And this was for a Christian History class. I mean, this is what you need to *know*. This is history. Facts. Events. Dates. Information that is potentially relevant to, you know, what you plan on doing for the rest of your life. There are no Cliff Noted for 2,000 years worth of triumphs, persecution, martyrs, dogma, Calvinists, popes, corruption, etc, etc, etc... And the best part was totally when the guy answers his goddammned cellphone in the middle of my friggin' advice. At that point I just wanted him out and contemplated telling him he'd make a really shitty priest.
The hubbs and I will also be moving in a few weeks to a place that's bigger, nicer, and cheaper, if you can believe that. $210 a month cheaper, to be exact. When you have very little in the way of an income, every little bit helps. We also discovered a pretty kick-ass thrift store today after "breakfast" (it should not cost a couple $12 to get two mochas and a piece of cake, but it was nice to get out...), so when we get into the new place we can decorate it a la shabby chic and not spend a ton. It would only be cheaper if it were free.
I have a part time gig as a tutor at the community college. It's 9 hours a week, and I basically sit there and either read or write. I've started a few short stories, which is mildly exciting. I gave up writing after I graduated from college the first time because I was preoccupied with, you know, working. So this has been win-win, I guess... $11 an hour to sit in a high school level class and write my own stuff so it looks like I care about what's being taught. At least it's not a remedial grammar class.
I also have an hour in which I sit in the tutoring center and take students on a drop-in or appointment basis. Last Wednesday, after my first class, I had a pretty busy hour, what with the developmentally challenged student whose class had been canceled and came because he didn't know what else to do (which is actually a pretty good strategy, except he had no assignments to get help with, since, you know, his class was canceled) and a guy who wanted to know if I knew how he could get the information he needed out of a 100+ page reading assignment without doing the actual reading. He wasn't even a student at the college; he's in a Master's program at a local seminary college. And this was for a Christian History class. I mean, this is what you need to *know*. This is history. Facts. Events. Dates. Information that is potentially relevant to, you know, what you plan on doing for the rest of your life. There are no Cliff Noted for 2,000 years worth of triumphs, persecution, martyrs, dogma, Calvinists, popes, corruption, etc, etc, etc... And the best part was totally when the guy answers his goddammned cellphone in the middle of my friggin' advice. At that point I just wanted him out and contemplated telling him he'd make a really shitty priest.
The hubbs and I will also be moving in a few weeks to a place that's bigger, nicer, and cheaper, if you can believe that. $210 a month cheaper, to be exact. When you have very little in the way of an income, every little bit helps. We also discovered a pretty kick-ass thrift store today after "breakfast" (it should not cost a couple $12 to get two mochas and a piece of cake, but it was nice to get out...), so when we get into the new place we can decorate it a la shabby chic and not spend a ton. It would only be cheaper if it were free.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Fail.
It's been over a week since I had that interview. The only criteria for when I'd hear back was "soon". Considering school starts in less than 20 days, I expected "soon" to be roundabouts the day after the interview. Maybe the next Monday. So I'm operating under the assumption that I didn't get it... it's almost easier to accept that. I suppose after a while one gets used to disappointment.
Hey, speaking of disappointment, I had to grovel to my dad for money again. Well, it was less "groveling" and more like "hyperventilating over the phone while sobbing after he asked if we needed money". And since I hung up with him, I go through these swings where I can't stop crying (for once in my life I hope that's hormonal). I feel like I failed. I have always had this fear of failure, which explains a lot of my lackluster performance during high school; if you don't try, you can't fail. I partly gave up my dream of being an actress because I was afraid I'd fail (and partly because they never cast my ass in squat)... what do you do when you give up the unattainable dreams of your childhood for something more realistic, and you can't even reach that? And I never thought I'd be the one to play the numbers game, but I'll be 30 in four months and this is NOT what my younger self envisioned for my 30 year old self: sitting on the couch in the dark blogging about how miserable I am half the time while trying to hide it from the rest of the world. Jebus, no wonder I'm having a breakdown.
And that "part time" tutor job, the ONLY FUCKING JOB I WAS ABLE TO GET REMOTELY IN MY FIELD is frustrating as hell, and I haven't even started it yet. I have been scheduled for 10 hours a week. Okay, part time is part time. However, when those 10 hours are broken up into 2 hour segments five days a week, we have a problem. I'm not even pissed that MWF starts at 8 am. What I'm pissed about is the five day a week thing. And of course it's scheduled so that subbing is out of the question... 8-10 am MWF, 2-4 TR. School has either already begun or is about to let out by then. What. The. Fuck.
So tomorrow I will call the interview lady and discover my fate; I will then feed some cats for a friend, call the tutor coordinator and hope for the best, take another friend's kids to the pool, and pretend none of this shit is eating away at my soul.
Hey, speaking of disappointment, I had to grovel to my dad for money again. Well, it was less "groveling" and more like "hyperventilating over the phone while sobbing after he asked if we needed money". And since I hung up with him, I go through these swings where I can't stop crying (for once in my life I hope that's hormonal). I feel like I failed. I have always had this fear of failure, which explains a lot of my lackluster performance during high school; if you don't try, you can't fail. I partly gave up my dream of being an actress because I was afraid I'd fail (and partly because they never cast my ass in squat)... what do you do when you give up the unattainable dreams of your childhood for something more realistic, and you can't even reach that? And I never thought I'd be the one to play the numbers game, but I'll be 30 in four months and this is NOT what my younger self envisioned for my 30 year old self: sitting on the couch in the dark blogging about how miserable I am half the time while trying to hide it from the rest of the world. Jebus, no wonder I'm having a breakdown.
And that "part time" tutor job, the ONLY FUCKING JOB I WAS ABLE TO GET REMOTELY IN MY FIELD is frustrating as hell, and I haven't even started it yet. I have been scheduled for 10 hours a week. Okay, part time is part time. However, when those 10 hours are broken up into 2 hour segments five days a week, we have a problem. I'm not even pissed that MWF starts at 8 am. What I'm pissed about is the five day a week thing. And of course it's scheduled so that subbing is out of the question... 8-10 am MWF, 2-4 TR. School has either already begun or is about to let out by then. What. The. Fuck.
So tomorrow I will call the interview lady and discover my fate; I will then feed some cats for a friend, call the tutor coordinator and hope for the best, take another friend's kids to the pool, and pretend none of this shit is eating away at my soul.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Pray. Pray hard.
It's been a challenging summer, to say the least. I estimate that I sent over 100 resumes out this year, only to receive three rejection letters. Three. Rejections. The rest of them didn't even call. I'm not expecting freakin' flowers or a candygram... it would just be nice to know where I stand.
It's actually surprising to me that we managed to survive this long minus reliable income. My husband has been temping for less than $10 an hour whenever he can get it, and I've had to swallow my pride a few times and hit my parents up for help (I HATE asking them for money; it's not that they won't/can't/don't help... it's that I'm 4 months shy of being 30 years old and I have to run to Daddy when times are tough. I thought by now grown-ups had their shit together...).
Hopefully, this will change, and soon. I had my first (and only) job interview this morning. And because everyone else I know works, I've spent the day numbing myself in front of the television because if I think about this, I'm pretty sure my head will explode. I actually think it went well. I actually think I have a shot at this, and that's because it's not a regular school. It's an alt-ed program dealing with the fringe students who aren't successful in traditional high schools. And it comes with a real, grown-up paycheck. We're not going to be living in a palace on my salary, but I can at least afford the rent on this crapshack without dipping into my parents' retirement fund...
It's actually surprising to me that we managed to survive this long minus reliable income. My husband has been temping for less than $10 an hour whenever he can get it, and I've had to swallow my pride a few times and hit my parents up for help (I HATE asking them for money; it's not that they won't/can't/don't help... it's that I'm 4 months shy of being 30 years old and I have to run to Daddy when times are tough. I thought by now grown-ups had their shit together...).
Hopefully, this will change, and soon. I had my first (and only) job interview this morning. And because everyone else I know works, I've spent the day numbing myself in front of the television because if I think about this, I'm pretty sure my head will explode. I actually think it went well. I actually think I have a shot at this, and that's because it's not a regular school. It's an alt-ed program dealing with the fringe students who aren't successful in traditional high schools. And it comes with a real, grown-up paycheck. We're not going to be living in a palace on my salary, but I can at least afford the rent on this crapshack without dipping into my parents' retirement fund...
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Ah, insomnia...
Nothing's happening. I wish I had more to report, but that's about the gist of it. Unless there's a rush to fill positions in a few weeks, I have heard nothing new. And by this point, I'm pretty sure I'm not going to be getting the whopping $64 a week in unemployment.
I *do* have an interview on Friday to be a tutor at the local community college. It's a 2 hour group interview to be a part-time tutor. They want to be able to "asses your problem solving skills". Because apparently having a teaching degree isn't proof enough that I can take a problem and solve it... which is the basis of fucking teaching.
I keep telling myself to stay positive... it's getting harder and harder.
EDIT- I got the job. They must love me.
I *do* have an interview on Friday to be a tutor at the local community college. It's a 2 hour group interview to be a part-time tutor. They want to be able to "asses your problem solving skills". Because apparently having a teaching degree isn't proof enough that I can take a problem and solve it... which is the basis of fucking teaching.
I keep telling myself to stay positive... it's getting harder and harder.
EDIT- I got the job. They must love me.
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