I’m in my third week of a new job. It’s a part-time job. It’s an old job, but a new job.
I didn’t get the job I had in the spring back. No, that went to a five foot ten twentysomething with blonde hair and a trust fund background. It happens? It happens. Let’s be honest: When I worked this spring, I was just a copy editor. A dying breed, to be sure. And I was copy editing the society section. We all know how I feel about….high society. I would quote the old Groucho Marx line, but I’m sure you know it.
So now they will probably farm the copy editing work out overseas, and if that doesn’t make sense to you, welcome to the new world of publishing. It’s not the same as the old world. And as for hiring someone to keep on top of it, well, I guess a blonde from the Hamptons with a pedigree is better suited than me.
If I sound bitter, I’m not. Not exactly. I think my main problem is I wish I had been notified sooner. That the person I was in contact with was a little more honest with me. Would it have changed things? Probably not. I just don’t like subterfuge.
And if I’m being truthful, I’m not suited for the job. Not even a little. And working in that department was not fun. I felt like the victim of a good old-fashioned shunning by the popular kids at the lunch table. Or the prophet of a weird cult. Take your pick.
So, instead I’m working in advertising as a media coordinator. Which is a fancy name for ad assistant, which was my first job at the paper more than 25 years ago. What is the lesson in this? What goes around comes around? A bad penny keeps turning up? (Someone actually said that to me. No, really).
The plus side: I can’t handle more than part time right now. Not physically, or emotionally. I have two broken toes. I am finally FINALLY going to the doctor for that tomorrow. I haven’t seen my cardiologist in three years. I’m tackling that Monday. I’m tired all the time.
I am looking at doing this job for one year. That’s as far out as I can consider anything at this point in my life. Which is scary and crazy, I know, but there it is. My goals: To save money. To pay off or at least down my debt. To figure out where I want to take my hobbies of knitting and designing. Try to get in retail? Try to publish more patterns? Do more craft shows? Who the fuck knows. I will work on this.
So, it’s okay. It really is. Why only one year? Because there is no vacation, and that’s something I can’t deal with. I consider my four month sojourn this summer my vacay, so that’s fine. But within a year of going nowhere with my husband, either give me full time or I’ll go elsewhere.
I don’t know what I want to do with this blog. Why do I say this? Because I’m ready to get off of Etsy, and want to set up my own site to do this. I could just buy my WordPress domain, and may do that. Or I might go elsewhere. But a real problem is the past eight years of content here. Although all my bitching about work has been incredible therapy, I really don’t want certain people to read it. So that may mean wiping out old posts willy nilly, or just starting over.
Believe it or not, I have started writing some essays in my spare time. I might publish them here, I haven’t decided. Or wherever I end up. They are about my relationship with music and sex and how it’s shaped my life. I honestly have less of a problem if someone I know reads about the first boy I ever gave a blow job to while Journey played on the radio than if a former co-worker saw all my vitriol.
Yes, I just typed that.
Speaking of memoirs, do what I did: Go to your library’s web site, reserve this book and read it immediately.
Judy’s book is the best I have read this year. It saved me from a summer of bad YA, that, let’s be honest, no one forced me to buy/read. I think I have a lot in common with Judy: Curly hair that is hard to control, a belief in shopping at the drugstore for a cure to what ails you, old diaries on boyfriends and organizing, a father who only bought Ford cars and a giant lazy streak. Am I not selling this? Believe me, it’s good. I read it in a night. And it made me feel BETTER about myself, because I felt like someone was telling me it was okay to be me, weirdness and all. How often can a book do that for you?
I also saw a movie that I must tell you – has changed everything. Where has this movie been all my life? Why did I not know about it? Thank you MGM Channel. You play some right shit, and I can only see Elmer Gantry so many times before my eyes glaze over, but The World of Henry Orient is EVERYTHING. And it’s about GIRLS! Teen girls! And it’s not condescending! Thank you, 1964.
This is a shit photo from the DVD case, and Peter Sellers is not the….selling point. Sorry, I hate puns. They are verbal methane. And Angela Lansbury is giving you gorgeous ’60s Pauline Trigere costuming realness, but she’s not the pull. It’s the girls.
On the left, Merrie Spaeth. She went on to become a huge mover and shaker in the Republican party propaganda machine. Remember the Swift Boat piece that was used againstJohn Kerry? She’s behind it. And says it’s one of the greatest regrets of her life.
On the right, Tippy Walker. A most fascinating case. I believe having watched The World of Henry Orient that Wes Anderson based most of Margot Tenenbaum’s character profile (and wardrobe) on her. If you go to the message boards of IMDB, she is quite prolific as a commenter on her own life.
I could write pages on them, but better I direct you to an article from the New Yorker.
Will you go down the rabbit hole like I did? Who’s to say. But you should.
Here’s a clip. If you have the MGM Channel, check their web site for showtimes. You’ll be glad you did.