Resume Unabridged

Emily's most recent post got me ta' thinking.... So, what is that i've been doing over the years to secure my fundage? So much was either so inconsequential or plain humiliating, i can barely recall! Thus burried deep in the vaults of the Indigo Hall of Shame. But here - here in Blogland - there is no shame!!! Right?! Right!! It sounds entertaining to dredge the muck and compile a resume truly reflective of ALL my experiences.... An unburdening, if you will..

Of course: standard practice babysitting throughout middle and high school

Winchells
. My first real job. 16 hours of weekend donut peddling in thick crisco saturated air. My frisky white haired boss used to drop glazed raiseds on the soiled cement while frying and crack a joke while swooping down to replace it on the outgoing tray. Dozens of leftover donuts were a) thrown out every night, b) rescued by myself and brought next day to my eagerly salivating 1st period classmates, or, my favorite c) left to sit for several months before blending them with some cinnamon to compose the infamous cinamon crumb donut topping. I saved every dime for 2 years and paid for a month long trip to asia with my earnings.
PS: If i didn't know better, there was some sexual energy between myself and the ol' windbag 4o some years my senior. Kinky or creepy? You decide. He used to walk his pet pig on a leash.

Day Care Center in the mountains;
I used to drive by where they filmed Northen Exposure on the way there. Remember that series? I had the biggest crush on the radio announcer character. He was was so poetic. So romantic and gentle...Babysat a host of rug rats there while an inebriated supervisor would mysteriously dissapear for her extended "breaks", aka: hang at home across the street suckin' on the Mad Dogs. i was so devastated when she fired me, i never told a soul (until this post). I was angry. Confused. Embarrassed. But mostly shocked! "But i'm doing such a great job!" "I keep this place together!" "I don't understand!" I was wronged, but why?! My teenage gut suspected she was threatened by my compentence - but had nothing to prove it, to her, my family, and most importantly, myself. I was so unsettled, that the aftertaste of inadequacy lingered for years... Even now, 10ish years later, i'm often see myself as a "BAD EMPLOYEE" and spend considerable time in jobs waiting "to be found out" and for the proverbial axe to drop.

oh yeah and now that i think about it, as if that wasn't shameful enough, i was FIRED AGAIN - confirming that sense of worthlessness..... coincidentally, it was again a situtation where i'd felt unjustly slighted by middle managment that felt uncomfortable with a young, (possibly precocious?) woman showing them up. There was the part of me that bought into it, and the part of me i'd been doing an incredible job and she was full of crap. This reminds me of this post and THE THREAT which THE COMPENTENT WOMAN presents to ourselves and society. Its a topsyturvy thing. We want it, we don't, we want it, we don't. If MANLY = strong and powerful, than where does that leave the FEMININE? Conversely, WEAK and DEPENDANT and possibly pathetic? Thats a hell of a situation to be put in, isn't it? In order to be feminine and pretty and attractive i must downgrade and minimize my personal strength? I can recall times, especially as a youngster, where i'd unconsiously raise my voice or inadvertantly behave sillier than usual when i found myself in the company of a cute guy i had a thing for. And although i could catch myself in the act, the compulsion towards it irritated me! Its a shame that we often feel we need to define our gender by contrasting ourselves from the other. I don't feel we need to by non-masculine to accentuate our femininty. I prefer to be, and be around those who are comfortable embodying qualityes from both.

Anyway, moving on:

Monterrey
Cold Called singles in L.A. for a Dating Service. At 18, I recall this as being the most extended, personal conversations i'd ever had with real "adults" up until that point. I was struck by the willingness of faceless strangers to divulge intimate thoughts and feelings about their lives with me; random telemarketer #106-384, calling out-of-the-blue, and just a kid, no less. They confided and opened themselves to me as though i was their tele-therapist. Although, i found the stories and connection endlessly interesting, i eventually felt compelled to leave as my sales abilites began to effortlessly increase. After the repetition of many hours and days of calling person after person, patterns of speech and behaviors inadvertantly revealed themselves. And then patterns of how specific people would react to specific feedback. It wasn't a bad or dishonest service, but something about gaining the ability to so easily manipulate scared me. I didn't want that sort of power. I became adept at reading voices to the point that a "Hello" alone provided a storehouse of information; age, gender, mood, temperment, economic class, background, personality traits.... I discovered if someone was willing to answer the first question, then they were putty, often staying on the line for a half an hour or more.

Initally,I worked there because it was interesting and i believed in the service allowing me to speak with sincerity and enthusiasm. What changed was that the motivation became clouded by ability which interrupted my internal intentions. That was the conflict. How could i speak sincerely when i became increasingly adept at honing in on "what would work."

Telemarketed
Coupon Books with Wendy. I never was a morning person, until then. I used to love waking up on the couch after a night with James and driving together in her little blue hoopty as the Salinas hills glowed in the fresh morning sun. There was something about the comraderie that made the mundane, silly job exciting, fulfillfing even. She was so adult with that irish creme thermos precariously stuck between the seats, dangerously sipping as she haphazardly worked the clutch.

Telemarketing Again -
Sat in a wherehouse full of rows and rows of desparate people in cubicles with telemarketing Long Distance phone service, Smoking Surveys, or whatever the assingment was for the day - each cubicle contained a computer had a headset attached that automatically cued the next call and displayed a script with cues according to responses "press here for yes, here for no"

JC Penneys:
sold suits and dresses - favorite part: hiding my size deep in the storage closet until i'd marked the others down on clearance - by the time it was practically free, what do you know, my size would mysteriously resurface! Had a full on professional wardrobe by the time i was done! (Is that wrong?)

Talbott Tie Factory:
Worked at a factory of freakishly dexterious philopino women ripping fabric swatches off of books - for E I G H T hours a day - while a few puffy white men in suits hoovered in the area clucking,looking on.

William Dierecks
(Photo copiers, i think?) Data enterer (i think?) whatever it was, it must not have taken too much concentration since i recall bringing a walkman and listening to 8 hours of NPR a day while doing it. Received an "employee of the month" award from the temp service that referred me there for my efforts. The jet-printed token made my day.

Hospital Medical Records Filing
-inadvertantly discovered all kinds of dirt about random people in the community - apparently confidentiality wasn't so pressing that a temp worker like me couldn't see the personal medical records of everyone in town. Learned of surprising abortions, alcohol induced car accidents and even adoption info!

Data Entry
for the State social service department: 8 hours a day of typing numbers. We were allowed two 5 minute breaks EXACTLY and scolded severly for being seconds late. as a temp, i got into the groove after a couple months - it was like meditating after a while. but i couldn't help but to feel quasi-sorry for the people who'd been doing it for 1o+ years. weren't they dying of boredom?

Even worse excruciating boredom; working on an assembly line at a bottling factory for a few days - the roar of machines was deafening... what a crazy environment to spend 40+ hours of your life a week.... school began to look more and more worthwhile< Group Home on-call counselor at respite home - temporary emergency shelter for kids placed only a few days Foster Kid Visitation Supervision (translation: i transported kids to visit their birth families and watched em hang out)

Mentor Respite Care: T - the kid everyone hated at the Group Home but somehow got along great with me - Why? My theory; he liked me (and vice versa) simply because i treated him like a human being.... not a bad person or with condescention... its easy in a "helping position" to take your power for granted... teachers, doctors, social workers, cops; they all inherently posess a certain level of status and power "over" "Clients"..... being the RECIPIENT of HELP can make you feel small and vulnerable and dumb and its necessary to be aware of that dynamic as the HELPER.... its a delicate dance to help while demphasizing the imbalance - because everyone wants to be special (including the HELPER), i think its natural to fall into the HERO role and unconsciously exploit or brandish prestige like a medal.

Facilitated a county program for kids arrested for misdemeanors - instead of going through the criminal "justice" system, they were allowed 1 chance at this Diversion program instead. I sat down with the offending kid, a handful of community volunteers and faciliated their "Community Accountability" meeting. The kid basically explained what he did and then discussed the impact it had on the community. Then they were given some sort of alternative "sentencing" by the board while the kid and crying parents left the room. Usually it was something like, collect canned food for the homeless or pay back what you stole... That sort of thing. Had mixed feelings about it at the time considering i was virtually an anarchist myself and often identified more with the kiddies than the arrogant self important "volunteers" who seemed to enjoy (once again) wielding power and making the families squirm. The worst part- the things they'd say once the families were out of the room. Rather than focus on the "crime" or the best interst of the child's learning, they'd ostracize them for their purple hair, etc. The whole thing made me sad. Very sad and often frustrated, as i recall.

Jail/Group Home Facilitator-
worst job ever. 2 Staff people for twenty 16-21 year old felony offenders transitioning out of the highest security juvenile jail in the state. I was only 23 at the time? (I think?) I'm sure i appeared to be a total joke to those guys. A 5'2" college GIRL trying to be tough but not doing well. The other staff were unsupportive and clique'ish. What a sour introduction to the "helping profession." No on cared about those kids, for real. 2 counselors for 20 extremely high-need kids trapped in the system? Our (married) boss was having an affair with the prison contact and the institution was simply a branch of a larger BUSINESS that often employed the boys at their factory for a wage considebly lower than their coworkers. Of course, it was still higer than what WE were getting working as their Care Taker/Guard/Facilitators. - Totally fucked up situation, totally fucked up job. A hopeless situation for everyone involved. Most especially the kids. No concrete services were being provided that would change their misguided, violent lives in any significant way.

Filed/Organized for my Dance Guru in exchange for private lessons

HAWAII
Receptionist for 2 brain killing years at an upscale Escrow Company - greeted the likes of Gomer Pile and an aging I Dream of Jeanie

Yet another Group Home for 3 years - counselor, token manager, and all-around grunt peon of the social service machine. that company didn't give a shit about anything about but the bottom line baby - screw the people. too vad its the biggest social service agency in Hawaii. every coworker of the 700 in the company i ever spoke to was angry and resentful of the way they and the clients were treated. not very inspiring. not too happy. not too motivating. and didn't exactly make social services seem like a very attractive profession to continue with. (do i want to continue in grad school now????) blah. seemed like alot of stress and mistreatment for very little money

Facilitated a few ropes course groups

A year working for a guy i first met from a personal ad - we went on a couple dates and bugged him to hire me so i could be closer to him - i was convinced if only he knew me better he'd grow to love me - HAha- i never did make my true intentions known and he may have been puzzled at my hasty angry exit upon his hasty marriage to a dingy. child-like non-english speaking woman, i bought them a bread maker for their beachfront wedding and hugged him like a brother under a tropical tiki torch, secretly harboring a broken heart

And most recently
worked for P organizing his inconceivably disorganized business/office

And
Teaching - an alternative program for teens unable to graduate due to excessive abscense or discipline problems... Most were several grades behind. Some of them could barely read and write. How they ever got as far as they did was beyond me. Couldn't help but to think it reflected that something was terribly wrong with the eductional system there....<>

I'm sure there's more....

I'll keep adding details and anecdotes as they come to me the next few days.....