Older, but not Wiser....

I spent a large part of yesterday re-doing my resume cover letter.  When I originally wrote it, I was still incredibly (perhaps overly....) optimistic about finding a job, so it was safe, said the same things everyone else's said, and basically was rather vanilla (of course, I am basically safe and rather vanilla, but that's another issue for another day).

As I am still a member of the large pool of unemployed, I decided to revamp.  My cover letter is no longer safe, talks about the bad economy and lack of jobs, and toots my own horn more than the last one did.  I decided it's time for some tooting, because goodness knows the previous letter isn't getting it done.

My new letter also stresses the fact that I have experience and wisdom.  I know this is a euphemism for old, but as I am now on the cusp of 40, I need to put a positive spin on all those gray hairs. 

After putting the finishing touches on the letter, I decided to start a new pair of socks.  I had bought some lovely Cascade sock yarn in Cape Cod, and thought I deserved a little knitting time.  I dug up the skein, which needed to be wound.  In my infinite, almost-40-year-old wisdom, I decided that it would be easier to just wind it up into a ball instead of getting a chair and retrieving my ball winder and swift from the top of my closet.

Now, I've wound a lot of yarn, both by hand and using a ball winder, and I know which is easier.  However, it seemed so logical that it would be better to just sit on the couch and do it old school, completely discounting the fact that every time I do this it takes about eleventy times longer and involves knots and disasters and a general hot mess.  After a ridiculous amount of time (and a little bit of bad language....) I ended up with this, which my dog thinks is a gift for him. 

Do you think I need to change my cover letter again?

I Am Weary, Let Me Rest

Yesterday, in a fit of hoarders induced de-cluttering (seriously, if you haven't checked out this show, it's worth a peek, if only to inspire you to clean out that closet that keeps getting more and more stuffed) I dug through the various hidey-holes in our little apartment (you wouldn't think there would be that many opportunities to amass stuff in this little space, but that's where you would be sorely mistaken....) and cleaned out a lot of the junk that I keep thinking I'll need someday, but never, in like 5 years, have I needed any of it. 

So, yesterday was a good day.  Today is looking less good, and here's why.  The Professor and I just returned from a consultation with an orthodontist for Miss Serious' apparently giant teeth.  Said giant teeth do not have room to fit in her tiny, almost 9-year old mouth, so she will soon be the proud owner of braces.  And we will soon be the proud owners of a monthly fee deducted from our credit card to pay for said braces (not to mention the 1/3 down-payment).  This isn't a crisis, it's why we save our pennies, and Miss Serious really needs to have the work done.

To add to the financial fun, I began the exciting process of refinancing our mortgage this week.  We had gotten a 7 year adjustable mortgage under the (apparently incredibly misguided) notion that we of course wouldn't still be living in this little apartment in 7 years.  Lo and behold, 7 years have come and almost gone (as of March), and as I'm not too excited about what the whole adjusting mortgage payments will do to my bottom line, we are refinancing.  Refinancing is expensive - like braces expensive.  However, we got a good rate, it's a fixed-rate 20 year mortgage, so it even shaved some time off the total loan, and now we don't have to deal with any adjusting.

And, after 20 years, if we're still here (and as the magic 8-ball would say, "All signs point to yes") we'll be paid in full.   Now let's hope the dog won't need braces.....

I'd Like to Phone a Friend....

In an effort to go green and streamline (you'll soon see the fallacy in this intention), I have gone paperless on as many bills and statements as I can.  Unfortunately, every single account and website requires me to come up with a user name and password.  This is where the trouble comes in, because as I have gotten older, my brain has slowly turned into mashed potatoes (I blame the children) and I am incapable of remembering all these little tidbits of information.

I finally started writing them all down (I know, I know, not supposed to, but if someone is willing to break into my home, get on all my various website and find the paper with the information, more power to them...they can have my tiny amount of worldly goods - they clearly want them more than I do), but didn't start this process until about 6 months ago.

Therefore, any accounts that I haven't heard from in a while have retained only a vague, hazy memory in my head, which is often somewhat less than accurate.  Especially since some sites require numbers, some sites won't let you use numbers, some need special characters, etc.  I know you all feel my pain.

Fast forward to today.  I have put off checking on the kids' 529 college funds since the whole economy decided to tank, but thought I'd give them a peek yesterday.  I couldn't remember the entire user name (for some reason, they won't accept partial answers...), so sent an email which was dutifully returned with my new info to log on.  Over the years I have sent and received so many of these "reminder" emails (which should really just have the words "Here, idiot" in the subject line...) that The Professor has created an entire file in our email program for them.

The kids' accounts are held by the same company I have an IRA account with, leftover from my time teaching and actually making money.  So, I go on to the site, and can't remember (imagine my surprise!) any of my log-in info.  Luckily, they have a helpful section for those of us who are memory challenged.  However, when I go to said section, it requires me to have my account number.  Now, even though I keep just about every scrap of paper that has anything to do with anything in my little files, I have NO file for this IRA.  So, I decide that maybe the username is the same as the kids' accounts.  Then, when it starts asking me security questions and I get them all wrong and it locks me out of the system, I am finally forced to get on the phone.

The phone call goes something like this:

"Hi, I have an account with you, and have forgotten my log in information.  I also don't seem to know my account number.  And, I'm now locked out of the system for getting the questions wrong."  This is not a particularly high point in my attempt to make others believe I am a competent human being.

The chirpy voice on the line says, "Oh, no problem.  I'll just need you to answer your security question.  In what city were you married?"

I have drawn a blank.  And, I'm on the phone with a person who is doing her best to act like I am not a complete numbskull.  I finally remember, and tell her the city.

"Hmmm...," she says, "that's not right."  It actually is, so now I have no idea what I did when setting up my security questions.  "How about this one - What's your paternal grandmother's first name?"

I am now so appallingly embarrassed that I make sure I take my time and figure out that, yes, this would in fact be my father's mother.  Thankfully I get that one right, and am allowed access.  I did ask her what I put down as the answer to the wedding question, and I seem to have given them the city in which I was born (you know, born, wedding, same difference). I also found out that I was not locked out of the system, meaning that I locked out some other poor, unsuspecting soul.

Sadly, I think I am definitely not smarter than a fifth grader....

Oh Yeah - It Plays Music Too!

I am not a particularly techie person.  I know how to use the aging electronics that we have, and I'm not interested in getting the newest, shiniest, most up-to-date gadgets.  That is, until Apple wormed their evil way into my home via my (ancient, giant, not flat screen, LCD, etc.) television.

This evil influence came in the form of a commercial for the iPhone.  Now, I almost never use my cell phone.  I got it so the school could contact me in an emergency, and mine has pre-paid minutes and costs me about $5 a month.  I have no interest in actually talking on an iPhone.  What immediately captured my attention, however, was the touch screen.

I was entranced.  I couldn't look away.  Every time the commercial came on, I would call The Professor in to come and see it (a request which was met with not a little eye rolling....).  I loved the way you could flick the pages with your finger.  I loved that you could just touch the screen and make it do what you want.  I even loved the level application they showed on the commercial (you know - so I can check to make sure everything is level when I'm out and about).

However, I'm cheap, I don't want an iPhone, and I tried to move on.  Then, I saw the iTouch.  All the cool touch screen features of the iPhone, but without the whole phone thing (which also requires a giant monthly fee - something I always try to avoid).

Again, I let it go.  I already had an iPod, it worked fine, and it was silly to yearn for this ridiculous toy.  The Professor, however, had other ideas.  He's been doing some consulting work (which sadly pays almost as much per hour as I get all day subbing) and at this point my old iPod started refusing to interface with my computer.  So with a little (sadly only a very little) prodding, I am now the proud owner of a shiny, sleek awesome little box of ridiculousness.

I downloaded a whole pile of (free!) games and apps (including the level thingy, of course), and it is amusing not only me, but my children.
 
I'm actually embarrassed to own it, because it seems to go against all the things in my nature I hold near and dear (the cheapness, the unwillingness to change, the lack of techie-ness - you know - all those wonderful qualities that make me into the odd package that I am).  Now, off to make sure the world is level....


P.S.  I added fish to the blog (silly, I know, but again, it amuses me, and that's really what it's all about....); you may have seen this before, but if not, if you click on the tank it gives them food....

Bonding....

This year Big Trouble joined the Cub Scouts.  So far it has required very little on our parts (except for the $65 I had to spend on a shirt and patches....) as the meetings are only once or twice a month, and are held at the church just down the street. There has been some parade marching, and a popcorn sale, but we took all of that easily in stride.

That all changed this week however, with the email that came entitled "Cabin Campout".  It seems that the Cub Scouts are going camping this weekend; they will be staying in cabins, so everyone will be warm and snug at night.  The best part of this scenario for me is that the Cub Scouts require everyone to have a parent companion, and I'm not it!!! The Professor has that gig, so he will be accompanying eleventy million little boys into the woods. 

The daytime activities include a hike and a Nerf Gun fight.  We don't own a Nerf Gun, but apparently we will soon be the proud owners of two of them, as the adult helper is also involved in said Nerf Gun fight.  The kids are required to have safety goggles for the activity, and when I mentioned this fact to Big Trouble, he announced that he had formed a strategy.  I asked him what that was, and he calmly replied "I'm going to shoot everyone in the safety goggles." 

Ah, the lessons a young boy takes from Cub Scouts....

You're Looking for What?

The job hunt continues, and I must say, I'm become less and less enthused with the process.  The window for obtaining a full-time teaching job is absolute and short; as school starts in September, if you haven't gotten your job by then, you get to wait until the following year to try again.  In the meantime, there is always subbing, but as I've waxed rhapsodic on that topic once or twice, I shan't bore anyone again.

I was looking up job postings this weekend, and one caught my eye.  It was for a teacher at a charter school, and under the section labeled "Qualifications" (where you usually see degree required, experience needed, etc.) they listed that the applicant should have "zest, grit, and entrepreneurial spirit."  Hmmmmmm..... I get the reason for the zest and the grit, but entrepreneurial spirit eludes me - are they looking for someone particularly good at bake sales?

I decided that this job probably wouldn't be for me, as I'm not sure I actually have any of the aforementioned personality traits - do you think there's a job for someone with the qualities of anxiety, trepidation, and a judgmental spirit?  Yeah, I didn't think so. 

Now I have to figure how to make my cover letter zesty, gritty, and entrepreneurial - maybe I should ask them for money in an excited yet slightly street-smart way.....

It's Raining, It's Pouring....

So, instead of actually doing much today, after church we hustled home and holed up inside doing our various activities.  The Professor took a much deserved nap (he had co-op board nonsense to deal with early this morning - someone broke one of the windows in the building, so he was contacting the Super and the police - good times....), the kids were playing on the computer, and I was playing with paper.....

I didn't even have to make dinner, as we had leftovers from dinner last night; The Professor's college has a Christmas party every year, which we dutifully attend.  They have a raffle with about 5 or 6 prizes, and every year my children hold their tickets in their small, optimistic hands, and learn that they didn't win anything.  Well, this year changed all that - they actually picked one of our numbers, and we won a gift certificate to a lovely restaurant.  Last night we dressed everybody up, dropped the car off with the valet, and had a marvelous dinner on somebody else's dime (well, mostly).  Who could ask for anything more?