Working Girl LA

The hunt for work here in Los Angeles one crazy person at a time.

The Creation of a Beast!

After a couple of posts I have no clue why I would be boring you with this ranting when I could be making an awesome comic book out of the whole thing! So stay tuned readers and there will be a shiny new website and all to relate these LA-LA Land misadventures.

One of Twelve Hundred

I went to another interview today and I was pretty excited about this one. They were very nice and they seem like a great company. Complete and utter fear just makes me relax at these interviews now. I have nothing to lose. It’s like a Mexican stand off with a psychotic. I win either way.

On the middle of the interview, however, they dropped a bomb on me. I was one of twelve hundred people that replied to their ad.  So basically it looks like this out there…

Except not all Asian. That would be racist.

Luckily I was one of 15 people chosen for the first round of interviews. I basically won the lottery, that’s how monumental my odds of getting to the first interview were. I do have to say this was one of the most normal interviews I have ever been on. The people there were young and hip and so relaxed they told me I could wear sweat pants to work if I wanted to.

That somehow didn’t make me feel better as I hold my job responsible for making me get up and look like a human being most of the time. God knows what I would turn into if I actually followed my passion and drew all day. I would have a lot less clothes, let’s put it that way.

So to the rest of you looking for jobs out there I suggest buying a lottery ticket. It might just be better odds than getting a job.

Month 7

I looked at my unemployment check today and realized I only have 1,325 dollars left on my unemployment check. Though they said I could apply for funds even after mine ran out I can only imagine the gauntlet I have to run through. If it’s anything like when I worked a measly 3 hours and they got their panties in a twist I want to run and hide now.

The interviews have slacked off so I have been productive, like watching “Company Men” with Ben Affleck, and Tommy Lee Jones. Someone even kills themselves; a tip of the hat to real life if you ask me. One of the best unemployment movies I have ever seen. Hollywood should have called me if they wanted more drama.

Now it’s time for me to pucker up and get back to looking for jobs.

Case of the Crazies: # 34592


Today had to have been one of the best interviews yet. I rushed down into the mouth of hell. I dressed in a suit as they wanted a “professional”. Instead of an office block, I arrived at an outdoor furniture store. Ummm….

This may sound odd if you know me. I went to art school for painting, but in my twisted brain furniture is at least somewhat art oriented. I’m rushing to get there, tuck and roll out of the car, and walk in calm and poised. I meet R. and sit down. I hand her my resume and then she proceeds to tell me about the position. She wants an administrator, someone who can have some product knowledge, answering phones, etc. Fine, great. I ask her how many more hours and she replies,”I have to look into that.” HUH?

You need to look into your crystal ball? There’s apparently no other staff about. She’s the owner. Could we at least come up with something creative?  Weird, okay.

Then the interviews just ends. It was so abrupt I was jostled into asking, “Do you want me to answer any questions?”

"No, no. I’m a very good judge of character. I don’t have to ask you anything. I have your resume here to refer to."

Could you have been a very good judge of character over the phone? So I didn’t have to waste an hour driving for a 5 minute face to face? I would have set up Skype. You could have judged my character through a computer screen. I could even pretended I gave a damn and worn a suit jacket over my pj bottoms. You would never have known.

I can tell you now that these are the kind of interviews that zing up my morning! I just so want to leap out of bed and scrub myself shiny for the chance to sit in the sweltering LA sun for an hour in my car so you can judge my character for 5 minutes of you talking about your job opening.

Mother F!@*#*&%)\*(&^

The Dull Throb of Apathy

It’s time to break out the ice cream when I have a job interview tomorrow and I could care less. You reach a certain point in this whole process when it just becomes almost too much to haul yourself off the couch to go all the way down South to interview for a job you can’t possibly want.

It’s not like I can’t go. I have to give every possibility of making money a chance, but I really don’t know what is worse: interviewing for jobs I want, or those I don’t. I try to find a positive in all the jobs I apply to, that’s why I apply to them, but the thought of giving up my unemployment for continued years of unhappiness just puts a girl down.

We all can’t do our dream jobs. I understand that. I’m just asking for something at least mildly interesting. I completely understand the terror of a 50 year-old looking for a job right now. I’m only 30 and I already feel boxed into a corner by my resume. People want to see a long resume of exactly what they’re looking for and when you start getting jobs in a career track that eventually lets you down, it’s very hard to start over. I can’t be a tattoo artist, or a teacher. or a nurse at this point without a major investment of time and money. And trust me honey unemployment doesn’t provide that.

The thought I was clinging to at 3:30 am this morning is that everything changes. This is only a temporary stop and new things will happen soon.

Another Rejection Letter

                      Apt description of my frustration

After a grueling day in a corset pimping others’ merchandise, I come home to find yet another rejection letter sitting in my email box. Now understand that I was perfect for this job. It’s what I went to college for and I had all the qualifications, even making awesome suggestions in the interview. I gave considered answers and trust me they weren’t looking for the next Michelangelo/Devil Wears Prada survivor. But the problem as I see it is that there are about 50 people perfect for all of the jobs I have applied for.

I swing between complete desperation, applying to be a housekeeper at 3 am, to snubbing the chance to pick up chance to pick up dog poop for a millionaire. There seems to be no good solution other than chocolate. Lots and lots of carbs. I am growing fat being so poor.

At least I got the courtesy of notice that they want to keep me on unemployment’s payroll. I have had to beg to be informed that I wasn’t chosen. I was even rejected 6 hours after I was emailed for an interview. I think that one had to be a new record. And please could they come up with some more inventive shlock to sling? “Thank you for coming in to meet with us… (no problem, the 40 dollars in gas I spent was nothing.) You were very nice. (I told you I get this a lot but it doesn’t seem to get me a job.) Unfortunately we found someone better suited to our needs at this time. (Alright, who got on their knees in your office? I wasn’t told that was an option.) We will be sure to keep your resume on file. (Thanks. You might as well take it to your office bathroom. You’ll know what to do with it from there.)”

Do not get bitter Emma, do not get bitter. No one wants a lemon walking in their office for an interview.

An Introduction:

My name is Cora and I am a youngish girl living here in LA, looking in all the wrong places for love…. er… I mean work. This little account is my own accounting of looking for work in LA LA land. It may sound boring but trust me, it’s not.

My first account comes the day I was laid off. I had whipped up my old friend craigslist and found a posting to be a personal assistant to a celebrity. Thinking it was a Nigerian’s scam I applied anyway and was called to the Warner Brother’s lot. Well, first I missed the call to interview and freaked out that I could only get an automated message when I called back. You have to understand that slipping into a celebrity’s inner circle is like breaking into a pack of rabid dogs. Once you’re in they won’t bite but getting in is the trick.

But I was called back eventually and I got to the lot with about 50 other people. The two young women who first interviewed me were very nice and I used my soulful eyes and sob story that I was just let go to convince them I needed to come back to meet their celebrity. Or they just thought I was nice.  I get that a lot. The second call back started with me arriving on time, which in LA is early, and so no one was there to greet me. I finally made my own way with my WB badge to a room that grips and such were going in and out of. I was met with a somewhat snide comment of “Well you’re certainly on time.” *Shrug* before I was scooped up to another little green room above. There I proceeded to sit with my fellow interviewee, S., for 5 hours, being told the celebrity was coming in from NYC and was late. S. was luckily from the East Coast so we had a lot to talk about.

Finally we were led to the slaughter and S. went in first. I waited, trying to chat up the other “assistant”, integrating myself into the pack without getting rabies. A red-faced S. came out and I stepped up to meet…… J-Lo.

She proceeded to ask my bat shit insane questions and I was just hoping it was a test of my calm under a somewhat erratic personality. When the grueling questions like, “Do you like chocolate?” were over, S. came back in and we were given the final question: “What are you here to do today?”

"Interview for an assistant position?" I innocently answered.

"No! You’re on the Ellen show!" *headdesk*

Now I have to admit that the producers on the show were some of the sweetest people imaginable. They felt very guilty about tricking me and wanted to help in every way possible other than getting me a job with J-Lo. My resume and video went up on their website and I got exactly 0 phone calls or emails for being on national television. So much for the power of day time TV. But again they were very nice and there were no hard feelings other than my first blush of anger that I was on TV rather than getting a job. I did at least get a Target gift card. Thanks Ellen!

And this dear friends is only the first adventure in my 6 month and counting job hunt odyssey. I hope you will enjoy the ride as much as I have enjoyed living it.