This was a column I wrote for the Frederick News Post almost exactly one year ago. It’s somewhat of a rare take on the digital age, in that I actually don’t associate things like e-readers and text messaging with fear and nostalgia for the “good ole days” when things were simple and pure. I wrote this column because I really, really wanted a Kindle and one year later I finally have one in my little hands. See, I can delay gratification…
Imaginary Things – Jan. 6, 2009
I used to have an impressive collection of CDs. They sat stacked in some sort of Ikea device in order by genre, and then by name. My stereo was right next to my CD collection, so that when the mood struck me for something particular I’d just pop the disk in and set it to repeat.
My CD collection is now dispersed throughout the unfinished portion of my basement. Some of the disks are cracked because they’ve been stepped on, or they just didn’t make it through the many moves I’ve had throughout and after college. They form unmistakable triangle-shaped silver daggers and it no longer makes me sad to see them that way.
There are benefits to this. I don’t have to dust my collection anymore. And I don’t have to manually alphabetize them either. All of my CDs now live double lives on the hard drive in my computer and my ubiquitous iPod, which can be found attached to my body with white wires coming out of my ears. Things have changed in the past few years. Few of us have a need for the CD towers and display shelves we bought before the advent of MP3 players.
For Christmas this year, several friends and coworkers either received or bought themselves digital book readers, which are digital devices that you both store and read books on, much like an MP3 player for music. Two or three years ago, when I was just beginning to let go of my attachment to my physical CDs, I would have thought this was going too far.
Those of us that need to read books like a diabetic needs insulin know the feeling of opening up a new book, smelling the inside, feeling the pages crease beneath your fingers. We line up our books on bookshelves, and even though we’ll probably never read them again, they make us happy and comforted, because for two weeks, we lived in the world that book created. And we probably judged that book by its cover when we picked it up in the store.
But this is the way the world is going. We’re not going to need real books anymore. We can still have them, of course. We can still hold on to what books used to be, but it won’t be the same.
And the same goes for movies. My husband and I have discovered the brilliance of Netflix, a company that sends you DVDs that you request online. You keep a list going of movies you want to see, and magically, those same movies show up in your mailbox a couple of days later. When you’re done watching, you put the DVD back in its envelope and it goes off back to where it came from.
Even the idea of Netflix is becoming outdated. Movies will soon all work through programs like On Demand; we’ll just click a button and the movie will start playing. No more trips to Blockbuster, no more DVD libraries in the family room.
I figure it’s silly to resist this change. It’s definitely coming, and it’s coming fast. You could spend a lot of time arguing about the benefits of physical items, or how humans need more time to adapt to such a change. But meanwhile, I’m boxing everything up and moving on—it ultimately means less dusting.
This was a telecommuting day for me, like all other Thursdays and Fridays, which meant that I could sit in this spot on the couch with my laptop and stare desperately out the window all day, awaiting the mystical white postal truck.
The regular mail came and… nothing. And, believe me, I knew my Kindle was on its way. I had only been checking the USPS website all week, desperate for an update. Finally, I heard another truck pull up and I ran out, clutching the tiny and surprisingly light box. I’m a big sucker for cute packaging and I just loved this.
Then, this was the face I made.
And as my first official Kindle book, I’ve decided to go the impatient route and purchase the book I was already reading in hard-copy form–The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao–because I’m enjoying it so much. If anyone wants the hard copy, send me your address! It’s up for grabs, but I’m totally going to quiz you on it.
I realize it’s currently well into January, but my last couple of months have been split between work, planning a massive kitchen remodel, and spending as much time as possible with Etta Felice Shupe, my tiniest of friends. Look at those cheeks — don’t they just make you want to DIE? For Jason’s birthday party last Saturday, Etta came dressed to the nines in her iPood shirt, tiny jeans, and pink Chucks that we bought her when she was just a name that we were forced to keep secret for months and a speck on a sonogram. And yeah, that is a tiny anchor tattoo.
Etta is the offspring of our BFFs, Kelsey and Justin. We met these crazy kids back in 2008, when we started talking online, then had our first date at Brewer’s Alley downtown. The rest was history. We take turns helping with each other’s home improvement projects (Justin was the brains behind our bathroom remodel and we helped tackle their hardwood floors and bedroom). Kelsey and I drag the men to Asian restaurants and Ikea. And we got to watch Kelsey’s belly grow bigger and bigger last year and met Etta her first day in the world as we know it. Here they are during our trip to Brooklyn.
Etta is one of those kids that really, really makes you want to have a kid. She’s also one of those kids that makes your mom really, really want a grandkid, so you’ve got to be careful when introducing the two. (Found out the hard way).
It’s hard to find a picture of NOT making the wide-eyed I’M-GONNA-STEAL-YOUR-BABY face, so this was the best I’ve been able to do, on the day of her baptism.
Anyway, I plan on posting much more from now on because this is a big year for the Henley Abode. First and foremost, my *ahem* GENEROUS parents gave us a kitchen remodel for Christmas. Like, an entire new kitchen. We are knocking out the wall between the dining room and kitchen to make way for a breakfast bar and glass cabinets, completely replacing all of the cabinets, installing some sexy granite that we possibly picked based solely on its name–Blanc Noir, and getting all new appliances. Did I mention we are making way for a DISH WASHER?! Yeah, we will soon be the proud owners of a MACHINE THAT WASHES YOUR DISHES FOR YOU. Because it’s 2010–the FUTURE! I plan on our relationship improving around 87% based solely on its existence.
On Saturday, we begin the demolition process, along with the help of aforementioned friends. Etta won’t be of much use, but maybe we can get her a tiny sledgehammer and get her into the DIY way of life. Her mom makes her own laundry detergent, after all.
We will be documenting this whole crazy process, so stay tuned.
Remember this commercial that melted your heart and tickled your ovaries?
Basically, the dachshund’s beloved toy, “Bobo,” becomes dirty and ratty over time. Mom throws it away while he’s sleeping. Takes him to Petsmart where the employee that looks exactly like the Black Power Ranger (is there confirmation that this is NOT that guy?) knows exactly which toy this dog loves. He retrieves a new Bobo for the pleased dachshund and the dog carries it out of the store. I’m not ashamed to say that I cried a little the first few times I saw this. Our dogs have this level of attachment to their toys, so I TOTALLY UNDERSTOOD.
So we were picking up Eddie and Roscoe from their grooming session the other night–they both look incredibly handsome and debonair, by the way–and I decided to let them take a spin in the toy aisle. On the bottom shelf that is strategically placed almost on the floor, was new version of the giant stuffed camel we got for the boys last Christmas (which they loved and eventually chewed to death and destroyed).
Eddie made eye contact and went straight for it. I tend to believe he remembered, and Jason, with his skepticism, thinks it’s a coincidence. Either way, we thought it was too adorable to ignore. We let him carry it up to the register, we paid for it, and let him carry it out of the store, soliciting many smiles along the way–even from the men.
This is a little belated, but you’ll have to forgive me–I started my new job two weeks ago, which has been consuming about 93% of my brain function capacity. But the nice folks over at CasaSugar wrote up a lovely piece on my craft room titled “10 Great Idea’s From Ashley’s Craft Room,” complete with a photo slide show. Check it out!
Some people are just naturally organized. I have no idea how this happens, if it’s a product of wiring in the brain, or a product of one’s environment, but I just know that I have to work at my organization. And I do. If I let myself go, I really let myself go. I thrive on structure, and in order to obtain structure I need organization.
Guests often comment on how well organized we seem, which for some reason always shocks me. I suppose if I step back, I can say that it does tend to stay pretty organized.
Craft room cubbies
Bathroom cabinets
Hanging measuring cups & spoons
But I also know that I really had to plan that organization and I continue to work hard to keep the organization alive. I’m the type of person who might contract a sudden headache at the sight of an askew bath mat or a crooked vase, but not the type of person who would mind having more than one “junk drawer” in my house.
So, here’s my latest attempt at organization. You should note that if you’re ever a guest in my home and you’re suffering from anything from a backache to a sinus infection, I’ve got you covered. In the linen closet, there used to be basically a tub of random pill boxes and bottles, thrown in with tons of loose pills. When one of us needed something, the other would have to dig through it to find the desired medication, usually getting a headache of our own in the process.
So, as a solution, I bought one of these endlessly useful mini set of drawers (on sale for a few dollars due to a harmless crack in the top right corner) and put my label maker to use, creating labels for what what we tend to suffer from the most (pain [headaches], cold and allergies, and stomach and misc.).
All I need now is the white coat.
I got an email this morning notifying me that Jason (the husband) had chosen to share his location with me using Google Latitude. Hmm, I thought. What is this new Google funny business? Sounds a little 1984. Let’s look into this.
In two weeks, I will be starting a new job. I’m not unemployed right now; I wasn’t unemployed ever following undergrad graduation. I’m not saying that my job search was easy (it wasn’t). But I also never let myself get to a frustrated place in my current position. I never hated the job or the company. In fact, I really enjoyed working there over the past two and a half years. I just sensed that it was time for something different. Advancement opportunities are limited, and I really wanted to move forward in my career. I’ve had a couple of writing positons and I was ready to assume an editor role.
After a few people have asked me how I managed to get a job (with a nice salary increase!) during the recession, I’ve decided to do a quick post on the topic. These methods have always worked for me, and I’ve been incredibly lucky when it came to job hunting. I’m not a career counselor; I’ve just done a lot of research and just seem to use methods that work.
1. Don’t give up a job hunt just because people are telling you there aren’t any jobs right now. There ARE jobs right now; there’s just more competition. More competition just means you may have to step up your game. Being a big fan of my Google Reader and RSS feeds, I subscribed to my local Craigslist feed under Writing/Editing jobs. New jobs in the DC metro area were then delivered to my reader daily and I was able to quickly apply for whatever piqued my interest. Just scroll to the bottom of the page in any Craistlist section and click the orange RSS icon to subscribe.
2. When applying for any job, write a good cover letter. This is so, so important. Don’t download a sample cover letter off the Internet, changing out the business name where it says [Insert business name here]. It’s cheesy, and
employers have probably read the same letter a hundred times.
Instead, write a letter a few paragraphs long summarizing your background, your skills applicable to the job, and an overview of what interests you about said company. Be a person and try not to come across as too robotic, but be professional. This is your only chance to give a first impression. And don’t even think about not including a cover letter. Even if you’re just emailing your resume, be sure to include something that at least resembles a cover letter in the body of the email. Be self-confident and proclaim at the end of your letter that you look forward to discussing the position in person.
3. Provide a professional email address (not PinkFairyGirl69@aol.com, for example) and a phone number where you can be easily reached. Also, double check that your outgoing voicemail message sounds dignified and not something that you recorded last month after you had a few cocktails.
4. The interview. If you’re lucky-enough to secure an interview, prepare more than you think you should. Practice answering these popular intreview questions, including the awful “What are your weaknesses?” zinger (I’ve gotten stuck on this in the past). Be prepared to give a minute-long speech about yourself before the intervew begins. I don’t think I’ve ever been to an interview that didn’t start out with, “So, tell me about yourself.” Tailor your answer to your education and work experience, and throw in something personal at the end, like, “And I live in downtown Frederick with my husband, two dogs, and three cats.” They’re probably not going to care about your hobbies unless they ask. My last interviewer did ask what my hobbies were outside of work, and then I could go into my crafts, book club, home renovating, etc.
5. Follow up your interview with emails or notes to all of the people with whom you interviewed at the company. Thank them for meeting with you and restate your interest in the position.
6. Wait. Have a beer. Wait some more.
7. This may be a divisive matter, but I’m a fan of light harassment. Jason could tell you more about this. He has a really good job at The Discovery Channel, a company where competition is stiffer than most. After he interviewed, he didn’t hear back. He decided to call a couple of times to get status updates. Someone informed him at some point that he had not been chosen to be part of that class of trainees, but that there was basically a temp position open in a different department that he could work in before the next class began. If he hadn’t called a few times to show how invested he was, Jason would have never heard about this opportunity. And of course, you need to know when to draw the line. Definitely don’t call before a week has passed, then try to take some cues from the information you get. If they genuinely don’t seem interested in pursuing anything further with you, let it be.
Good luck!
A couple of weeks ago Jason took me to see Whatever Works, the new Woody Allen movie starring Larry David and Evan Rachel Wood. We had to drive all the way to the AFI in Silver Spring, but it was well worth the effort. Allen, of course, managed to remind us that everything means nothing after all.
The main character, Boris, a winning nihilist hypochondriac combo, introduced to me a new practice… one that I’ve inevitably ushered into my everyday routine. I have no idea where Allen picked this up, but Boris sings the Happy Birthday song twice to himself while washing his hands, presumably in order to force himself to scrub long enough “to get the germs off.” “You don’t know you have to sing Happy Birthday twice to get the germs off?” he asks Melodie, played by ERW. I guess I didn’t realize how impressionable I am. It’s like I found myself answering, “No, Boris. But that seems like a sound idea.”
Now, I already had pretty impeccable hand washing skills. If I’m in a public bathroom, I linger at the sink twice, sometimes three times as long as my bathroom mates, some of whom do a little squirt of soap and a little rinse and they’re done. Might as well not even try, I say. I was a pretty dirty kid and I don’t ever remember understanding the value of a good hand washing. I picked that up in early adulthood and find myself washing my hands upwards of 10 times a day. Don’t start thinking I’m strange or obsessive, I just enjoy washing my hands, is all! See, Boris understands.
