January 31, 2005

la dee da :: 23:23

I had such a great time in painting class Saturday. One of those magic days where you can actually see your own progress. Wish I could hang there.

Today, I learned more about auto financing than I have in my whole life. I put in 10.5 hours (not counting lunch or breaks), ouch. This company went ballistic with their security precautions: I'm getting fingerprinted tomorrow. o_O I have half a mind to protest that (which would probably end the job right there) but.... I'm tired. Sometimes, things like that just make you tired.

Off to relax and read a more exciting blog, Wil Wheaton's.

January 29, 2005

Welcome to 2005 :: 01:16

So here I was at the job interview. Actually, waiting for the job interview in a posh area of a grand lobby, watching the two built-in t.v. screens showing CNN. Very nice building, I noted, between shots of blown-out Iraqi cars.

The job's a month-long project for a brand new in-house design department, and the company is the auto-finance branch of a huge bank. The project is Direct Mail. Direct Mail is the junk that goes directly from your mailbox to the trash. I was warned by my temp agent that "Greg" would be so long-winded that the interview would probably last an hour and a half.

So far, I was not enthralled. Plus, I was a little nervous, which is a frustrating way to feel about an interview that's going to run too long, for a job you don't really want. But there's always the off-chance that this time, you're going to make an absolute ass of yourself, even if you never have before, and even if you don't want the job; so you gotta be a little nervous, just in case.

I recognized Greg when he came into the lobby, because he arrived with another man, this one holding a portfolio case just like mine. I brilliantly deduced that this was a competing interviewee. They were laughing and shaking hands good-bye like good ole pals. That made me a little more nervous, because now there was the chance that I could make an absolute ass of myself right after someone else didn't.

If I continue writing at this rate, dear reader, you and I are going to be here all night and I don't know about you, but I actually have other things to do. So now I'll rudely condense.

The interview did start on an ass-making note: the tape around the edges of my boards had a bunch of cat hair stuck in it. The only thing that could have made it worse would have been cobwebs. Greg laughed. It went from there to a normal, so-so interview, then veered to interesting interesting because it was obvious that Greg had not only bothered to look at my work online before the interview, but had studied it. It was also clear that he really knows Design. I can't go into the nitty gritty of the sparks that started flying for me, but let's just say it went, "I speaka your language, you speaka my language." The interview then went from interesting to inciting this little twinkle that I remembered from some years back, a twinkle I'll dare to call a desire to work.


Bank. Direct Mail. Too far from where I live. Was his last interview for the week. But so far, really like the boss.

I start on Monday.

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