That Kind of Transsexual

Ms Ersoy is Turkey's best known diva, adored across the country.

She was already one of the country's most popular male singers when in 1981 she underwent a sex change operation.

Cool. Told you things were different outside the good 'ol USA. And now she's a political activist.

I know it's so last decade to refer to people like myself and Bulent as transsexual, but I much prefer the term to transgendered. Look at me, being elitist already! But I can't help it.

I Googled 'transgender support' and was disgusted at what I saw. Sites for men wanting to dress up as women... sites on deportment... sites selling stage makeup masqurading as nomal woman's makeup... sites for gay men to hook up... and that's just the first page!

Now lest you think I've suddenly become snobish to my own people, I was disgusted by those sites even before I was conscious of the woman I am. They give transsexuals a bad name.

THERE IS A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A MAN WHO WANTS TO WEAR WOMENS CLOTHES AND A WOMAN TRAPPED IN A MAN'S BODY.

The former only fantasizes about being a woman, the later IS a woman and makes all of the changes she can to correct things.

I never identified as the former, yet we're all lumped together into one giant freak-fest. So, just for the record, no, I'm not a drag queen, no I don't like putting on my wife's clothes, no I don't fantasize about being a woman. I feel like a woman, I think like a woman, and I am taking steps to make that a reality, HRT, living full-time, etc.

Brave Coward

The first time I tried to kill myself I was 8 years old. I don't remember all of the details as to why because there were many reasons. My parents were fighting and, like all kids do when their parents talk of divorce, I blamed myself. I was just beginning the discovery that I was not quite the boy I appeared... and discovering the rejection that came with it. Shame from the parents was intense. My dressing up was so embarrassing, they refused to even once talk about it with me. Even my friends were making fun of me. I was used to classmates (and friends) calling me names, but that summer, I was called a transvestite. I didn't even know what that word meant, and the only words spoken by people that I didn't know were the naughty ones, so I knew it wasn't good. I was really depressed. There were so many reasons I was unhappy as a child, I couldn't begin to list them all.

But I do remember in vivid detail how I tried to kill myself. I even remember finally discovering - 20 years later - why I failed. I remember running away from taunts in the school yard, a full eight blocks, coming home to an empty house. I sat on the floor of the kitchen, which at that time was wallpapered in metallic paisley prints. No shit, my mom could decorate. I sat there in that tin-foiled room and I cried and I cried and I cried.

Finally, thinking I was clever, I left a suicide note scrawled into the cabinet shelving underneath the microwave. Not too obvious, as the shelves were lined with paper... my note hidden underneath the lower-left sheet covering the veneered wood. It read: I hate my life. I want to die.

Having finally worked up the courage, I stood up and opened the microwave door. Now, I wasn't some dumb kid- I noticed that shutting the door on the microwave triggered three latches on the inner door jam. Using a knife and my fingers, I held down the three latches, punched in 5:00 on the timer, full power, put my head in and hit 'start'.

Nothing happened.

Nothing continued to happen.

Now on top of everything else, I felt like a failure. Dejected, I closed the door and went to my room. I was very good at blocking out the pain of life while alone in a room. I don't quite remember what I did, but I know now that I had then stumbled upon a secret of the Zen Buddhists. What I did was absorb myself fully into whatever I was doing at the time. Sounds simple, but if you do it right, hours can pass by in just a few minutes.

And, if you combine that with an active imagination, days can go by. Throw in a little determinism, and decades could pass.

I do however remember dinner time. My little attempt had broken the microwave. Made it short-circuit or something. The parents were pissed. They didn't know what I did to break it, but they knew I broke it. I got grounded. All and all, that day really sucked.

I also remember something like, 5 years later, my mother going into hysterics. She finally had changed the paper linings (along with the wallpaper) and had found my scribblings. I had forgotten to cover my tracks, or, more accurately, I had forgotten I had remembered to cover my tracks. I think there was a shrink involved, but by that time, I had long buried those feelings deep inside and had moved on. I had literally de-evolved and had become less conscious as a coping mechanism. Now I was only interested in things good midwestern boys should be interested in: sports and girls.

Even now, I'm shocked how long that lasted: 25 years. All that time, unconscious.

Funny enough, it was only recently I discovered that microwaves - even those made in the 80s - have a secondary safety mechanism which my 3rd grade education had not yet prepared me for: a magnetic seal had to engage before the circuits would turn on. Of course, in the 80s, no one actually thought the security would try to be bypassed, so when I did it, the resulting effort burned out the circuits. Nowadays you won't break your machine.

Even then, I wasn't as smart as I thought I was.

Now that I have enough education to defeat even the most complicated safety mechanisms, I find I lack the courage to go through with any real suicide attempt. This is particularly ironic, because I know there are some who think I'm exceptionally brave, living as a transsexual and all. They mistake being brave with not having a choice.

Anyway, death is not an option here. I don't want to decompose in Indiana. Since a small child, all I've wanted was to leave this place... and yet... always forced to return. It's like Hotel California here. No, I want to walk out into the ocean.

Here's a fun tip: did you know that drowning in fresh water is different than drowning in salt water? For real!

In a freshwater drowning, the inhaled water is quickly absorbed out of the lungs and into the bloodstream. The water washes away the wetting agent (the surfactant) in the lung air sacs (the alveoli) that helps keeps the sacs inflated... In a saltwater drowning, on the other hand, the inhaled salt water draws blood plasma out of the bloodstream and into the lungs. The subsequent fluid buildup in the air sacs prevents oxygen from reaching the blood, resulting in death. In other words, in salt water you basically drown in your own juices.

Fortunately, if you're out in the ocean, it's cold, so you're probably a little hyporthermic, tired, and disoriented. Unfortunately, there isn't an ocean around here to test out the theory.

Would You Like Fries With That?

My friend Dave recently told me about the hardest thing he ever had to say. It was just after he'd lost his job as a chemist. Now bartending, partly out of necessity, partly out of therapy, he was forced into a job way below his skill level, education, and pay grade. Even worse was the greeting.

Hello, my name is Dave. What can I get for you?

I didn't mind working for McDonalds when I was in high school, but I wouldn't do that now simply because I could earn more working from home. Ain't that something? Can't get a job in an office, but can at least get a job at home earning more than another job in person I couldn't get anyway. Blessing counted!

But that does't mean the work is any less humiliating.

So today I'm setting up my portable office to work with a remote company. Starting at the bottom, I plan to just do good work and silently swim in these waters until I can assess career opportunities.

But these are shallow waters - no room for pride.

Would you like fries with that?

So Long, Sober!

Clio's back and living by herself again. This time, it's in a huge house in Midwest suburbia. There's a shopping center about a mile away ... well, there's a mega-super-walmart, applebees, taco bell, mcdonalds, and a sprint store. I swear, I'm seeing more sprint stores these days than subways (which incidentally, is inside the walmart).

One of the benefits of living by myself is that I can once again not be sober. I'll never go far from drugs again! I mean, think about it... a four-month stint drug-free and look what happened?

• I feel into wrong crowds
• I thought I was employable
• I had delusions of grandeur
• I became very, very depressed

I must not have been on drugs to think I could get a job! What was I thinking? Too much ambition, that's for sure!

Shadow And The Light

My first night in suburbia. After spending all day cleaning, I finally get myself cleaned up and start to relax.

I'm standing outside, on the walkway between the front door and the driveway. Finally, after two months of discomfort, the promise of rest, quiet, and peacefulness. It's a warm and humid late summer night; I'm comfortable in just my nightie. The front door faces due South, and the moon is shining brightly overhead. Orion has just emerged from the East, standing in full glory, magnificent, and dominant on the horizon.

I light my last Nat Sherman, taking a shallow puff, then a long pull before exhaling into the sky. The sky looks different here. I want to say there are less stars than in Vegas, but it almost seems like there are just different stars here. In the desert, I could see the Milky Way, and if you know where to look, you can kind of make it out here. On the other hand, because there are less stars here, other galactic features are now more prominent. The Andromeda galaxy is straight above me, just barely visible as a brighter patch in the sky. I take another pull... so this is my life for the next few months, huh?

Just then, the neighbors start to come over. Well, the neighbors who are out at 2am anyway. A black cat approaches and says hello. Meow. I mimic her greeting and at this, she raises her tail high (akin to a dog wagging its tail) and comes closer. I notice she has a very bright white patch on her front chest; she almost appears white when she approaches head-on. Just then, in the shadows, I notice movement.

I look round and see a dark gray cat, sitting in the dark corner of the garage door opening, watching us both. Instantly, the names Shadow and Light run through my mind, and so I greet them both with their new monikers.

Shadow doesn't look very friendly as he approaches. He gets closer and I can tell that he's looking for a fight. As he starts to get aggressive with Light, I TSSsss at him and he bolts away into the darkness. Light, appropriately, stays in the moonlight by my feet. I think I just made a friend.

I study the living things surrounding the house. This place needs a landscaping company something fierce. Unfortunately, that's my job. The price of solitude is that I keep up the house. I push the thought to the back of my mind. There's so much work that needs done, I'll have to just take it one step at a time, and anyway, I'm not touching the lawn until the inside of the house is to my liking.

Looking up from the ground, I notice that everything looks alike here in the dark. All the homes with the porch lights on and the cars in the driveways... it's a constant repetitive pattern. New York had rows and rows of homes even closer together, yet somehow, there was a much greater diversity there than what is before me now.

Welcome to suburbia.

Parenting A Headache

I never intended to stay with my parents longer than a week; just stopped in to say, "hi," catch up with a few friends, get some badly needed beauty treatments, and move on. I did, after all, have a $140K/yr job waiting for me in Manhattan.

I didn't last a week.

They flat out refuse, under no uncertain terms, to even acknowledge my transition. Calling me by my old name, using male pronouns. To quote:

Just because you changed your name doesn't mean we changed it.

I didn't even mention (again) the fact my driver's license and passport both say 'F'.

Oh it gets better... from the mother, just after the above doozie:

You only think of yourself; you're the one that abandoned us.

>blink, blink<

Okaaaaay. Clearly all that crap about being true to yourself was just that. I didn't even respond. In this badly fractured family, one only needs to go to bed and in the morning, everyone pretends like nothing happened the day before. It's like Groundhog Day meets the Osborns.

Of course, this was the third time in three day I went to bed early without saying anything. This house is a toxic mix of stale cigarette smoke, bitter moods, and dreams unfulfilled. It doesn't matter anymore what I say, they argue or affirm the opposite of every statement. The collective mindset of the household has gotten nasty. Even the dogs are not immune to the resentment, Phoebe has gotten quite hateful and possessive, and each dog only wants what the other one has, be it attention from one of us or just a toy.

I remember listening to an interview with Alan Alda, talking about how his mother developed paranoid schizophrenia and how the family dealt with it. He and his father never - ever - said one word about the problems in the family. I'm forced to worry the same might be true here.

What's wrong with my mom?

I really, really do have compassion for them. I'm really, really sorry they lost their son, and I'm really, really sorry they refuse to accept their daughter. But this is really, really screwed up.

And so I'm leaving... this time for good. They can deal with the death of their son on their own terms, but I won't be coming back. Oh, I'll be here when they come to me as Clio, but I refuse to live under their delusions and broken dreams any longer.

It sounds harsh, these words, for in them I have failed to convey the extent of hostility and rejection toward me. Every time I have presented them with an opportunity for growth, they have shunned me... this is something they are going to have to go through on their own.

Meanwhile, my life continues to suck and blow at the same time. Job offer withdrawn. The drama in this job search is off the charts and I haven't the energy to dissipate it here. There is however, some good news. By the grace of a wonderful friend and his new wife, I'll be escaping from here to - gasp - even deeper into Indiana, habiting her now vacant home.

I figure one week in a furious depression, out of human contact, with plenty of mind-altering substances to deal with recent events. Then it's back to anonymous work-from-home until I can get myself solvent again. Who knows? Maybe I'll like it there and make it home while I rebuild. I'll still be car-less (and fancy free?) in Indiana, but there's a - gasp - Wal-Mart within walking distance. I'll actually be walking back and forth to Wal-Mart every day to get my groceries. That's really gonna suck in the winter, if I'm here that long. On the other hand, they are just a couple miles from the airport, making quick get-aways feasible.

It is easy to be thankful for that which we scarcely have; it takes a spiritual master to be thankful for that which we have in abundance.

I am thankful for my friends.

Amazon Recommends A Career Change

So I'm looking around for the the email address of the lady that I interviewed with at Amazon (she didn't have a card and I wrote it down wrong). While looking at her profile (at Amazon.com) I notice that Amazon has some recommendations for me. Curious, I check... here they are:

1. Screw the Roses, Send Me the Thorns: The Romance and Sexual Sorcery of Sadomasochism
2. SM 101: A Realistic Introduction
3. The Loving Dominant
4. Two Knotty Boys Showing You The Ropes: A Step-by-Step, Illustrated Guide for Tying Sensual and Decorative Rope Bondage
5. The Better Built Bondage Book: A Complete Guide to Making Your Own Sex Toys, Furniture and BDSM Equipment
6. The New Bottoming Book
7. The Master's Manual: A Handbook of Erotic Dominance
8. The Mistress Manual: The Good Girl's Guide to Female Dominance
9. Harrington on Hold 'em Expert Strategy for No Limit Tournaments, Vol. 1: Strategic Play
10. Hold'Em Poker for Advanced Players (Advance Player)
11. Gigi (Two-Disc Special Edition)
12. Caro's Book of Poker Tells
13. Harrington on Hold 'em Expert Strategy for No Limit Tournaments, Vol. 2: Endgame
14. Shibari You Can Use: Japanese Rope Bondage and Erotic Macramé
15. Garmin eTrex H Handheld GPS

Number 15 aside, (who doesn't have GPS in their mobile phone?) I'm forced to conclude that maybe software engineering and web development isn't exactly where I should be. Seems like I should be playing poker and tying up submissive boys, catching the occasional musical, you know... just for fun.

I guess I should move back to Vegas!

Mom, I'm Marrying A Freegan!

Once again, homeless against my will, this time courtesy of a bitter old lady upstairs and her irresponsible tenant. No job yet, a few rejected, a few declined, a few offers pending, but nothing yet. It's not easy to find housing in NYC with no job and no wad of cash.

Fortunately, I found this:

$675 / 1br - large BR high ceilings/good light in 100yr old brownstone sept-nov (bedstuy/JMZ myrtle ave) (map)

Hey

This room is 14x24 with high ceilings, hardwood floors. Plenty of light comes through 2 large windows that overlook the patio and carriage house. Its on the main floor of a large old brownstone occupied by 8 Anarchists, ages 20-27. There are 4 bathrooms and 3 kitchens. Only one other bedroom on this floor which a young couple live in and a large bathroom (8x14 maybe with just as high ceilings and lots of natural light). All new floors in the hallways.

We have a practice space (available for free use to renter) that we host shows in ever other week or so. In addition to the show space, there is rooftop access to both buildings (carriage house and main brownstone), a vegetable garden on one roof, compost bin, and driveway space if you have a car. There is also a large communal living room on the 3rd floor that out-of-town guests are free to crash in while visiting NYC.

Everyone who lives here is very into DIY, dumpstering, and is a vegetarian... except for 2 cats and a freegan.

UTILITIES ARE INCLUDED IN THE PRICE (electric, gas, heat, hot water, telephone line, wireless internet, Fax, AC). $675 flat, couples pay an additional $75.

Sublet starts September 1st and is available up to 3 months. Email us with a little information about yourself to set up an appointment asap.

Thanks.

Brian

(Brian's the Freegan.)

What's a Freegan? I wondered that myself: here's the movement's home page, a Newsweek article, and of course, Wikipedia.

After looking at their home page, I was astounded to see my philosophies and deeply held beliefs echoed back to me from the girl in the dumpster.

>blink< >blink<

Except for the finding food by digging around in trash part.

>blink< >blink<

So what's a girl to do? This should be fun. My own little Fight Club-esque breakdown. I bet it's only hard the first time...

Life is an adventure, right? Well, top this one, I dare ya!

PS - if anyone wants to come visit me in NYC, I have a couch for you to crash on... :)

Adventures in the Women's Watercloset

The 14th floor of Rockerfeller center is alight with Olympic buzz... it's a main floor for NBC Olympics! It's also the floor of Bravo! television, where I found myself interviewing. After the screening, I had to take a technology exam which took a while to complete and I seriously needed a bio-break!

Now, public restrooms are a great side-benefit to being a woman; sure, the lines can be longer if you're at a crowded venue in line for the closest toilets, but they are so much cleaner than the men's room. As a boy, Vegas casino restrooms were the only ones I'd ever sit down to use, but as a girl, all bathrooms are that clean.

Back to the Olympics... today, however, I think Olympic fever has spread to the bathroom! I blame Mr. Phelps.

So, I'm in a stall, just about to do my thing, when a gaggle of girls comes in. They all go into stalls. One girl starts and finishes and exits all while we are all still in there. It was so fast, one of the other girls remarks that she's like a bathroom sprinter. Another girl starts and dumps her liquid with a force I'd never heard before. Seriously, it sounded like such a large volume of liquid evacuating so fast that her friend commented on it from the other side of the room!

"I'm a power pee'er," she said. At this, the third chimed in, I guess I'm an endurance pee'er.

I am not making this up. Not sure what kind of pee'er I was, I lingered in the stall for a few seconds while they left. It didn't take long for them to come in and get out, not for pee'ers of that caliber.

Most people think of the ice skating rink when they think of 30 Rockefeller Center, or maybe the TV show. I think of the wonderful strawberry salad I had while there. And the Olympic pee'ers.

Separate, But Not Equal

Last night the U.S. presidential delegates failed to impress. Sure, there weren't necessarily speaking to people like me or you, but rather, to people like our parents. People like our white parents. You know, the ones that put Bush in power for 8 years? Those folks.

Both said outright that they did not support gay marriage. McCain of course, would probably require a big pink "G" on all of the LGBT communities' garments, but Barrack went as far to say that he would not support the ridiculous notion that our revered constitution should be stained with this power-hungry generation's intolerance. Of course, that doesn't mean he supports gay rights: "let the states decide" is utterly deceptive swaddle-speak for, "I'm not going to support them, AND I'm not going to get in the way of others who want to oppress them."

Shame on you, Obama! One can only hope that you are masking your true colors to this group simply to get elected, when you will then turn the country on it's ear and promote equality among the genders, races, and religions.

Now, I do not consider myself gay, though I have been trying! I also do not consider myself straight, though I have tried that too. However, I simply cannot understand why straight people are so afraid/upset/angry at the idea of two men (or women) entering into marriage. At best, it's bigotry to think - for whatever reason - that you are somehow more privileged than others, and if that reason is religion, then you have a lot more in common with Hitler or the Taliban than you'd like to believe!

Obama noted that the Bible had quoted Jesus as saying: "Whatever you do for the least of my brothers, you do for me." He said the maxim should apply to victims of poverty, sexism and racism. So Mr. Obama is saying that based on our history, we're telling Jesus, "Sorry, you can't get married. But you can ride on a different bus and get paid less for the same work."

Mr McCain said he supported preserving "the unique status of marriage between a man and a woman" and that he was against the decision taken in some states to allow same-sex marriages. "That doesn't mean people can't enter into legal agreements. That doesn't mean that they don't have the right of all citizens," he said.

Um, that's exactly what it means, Mr. McCain! You are saying that gays do not have the right to get married, that is discrimination! I would buy your argument if Christians were the only set of people who got married... they aren't. Marriage is a commitment, recognized by the government, between two consenting adults irrespective of religion.

McCain also stressed that he was pro-life, as long as that life wasn't gay, bi, lesbian, transgendered, or queer. His belief on marriage ultimately says, "Marriage is only for us because we are different; we are special."
You know what it also says? "We are homophobic!

We are hear!
We have fear!
We are queer!

Go ahead McCain, hug it out. It's okay to cry. We know daddy didn't hug you enough. And try to relax Obama, don't look so tense... you're about to have all kinds of attention from older white men!

Joblympics

After two weeks of solid job-hunting, it seems the process goes like this:

1a) cold call to company (send cover letter, resume, etc.)
1b) cold call from company (want resume, skills, etc.)
1c) cold call from recruiter (want resume, skills, etc.)
2) wait for recruiters or hirers interview
3) wait for technical interview(s)
4) wait for in-person interview/personality interview
5) wait for an offer/rejection
6) barter/negotiate
7) accept or deny the job

So far the tally looks like:

2) Rockstar Games, TomTom (Amsterdam), Backbase (Amsterdam), NBC (L.A.)
3)
4) Amazon.com (Seattle), Digitas, Microsoft (Seattle), Joost, Cantor Gaming (Vegas), Bravo!
5) venture capital group #1, ZocDoc
6)
7) Heritage Web Solutions (Utah - freelance)

Heritage offers work anywhere, but at a fraction of normal rates. Could not live in New York on their earnings, but could do, say, Muncie. The work might be really easy though, so I haven't ruled them out yet.

Joost was ahead of the game, but they dropped the ball. Both Digita and Bravo! want to meet early next week, and I'm flying out to Seattle for Microsoft next week as well! :)

ZocDoc probably could have gone better, but I'm thankful they were the first real interview! I'm not sure either of us is what the other is looking for, but we're both checking each other out from across the room.

Update On Not Being A Bum

I was talking to friend, saying that my full-time job has become interviewing for a full-time job! Here's the last 24 hours, after my screening with Microsoft and technical interview with Cantor Gaming in Vegas (both went well)...

• 7:00pm - Technical interview with Mike at Amazon.com. It's technical. I pass with flying colors. Every one's happy, next up, "team fit" interview, to be scheduled.
• 8:00pm - A mix of watching Olympic History and Pirates of the Caribbean, At World's End
  
• 12:00am - Go to bed. (I know! Feeling a bit under the weather, want full 8 hours of sleep.)
• 6:30am - Wake up. That's what I get for going to be at midnight. Brush teeth, go back to bed.
• 8:30am - Get up anyway, do some OJ therapy with a NYC plain bagel. It's delicious.
  
• 8:44am - Michigan State calls, my transcripts are updated with my new name, but they won't send me one unless I send them $5 first.
• 9:00am - Alarm goes off
  
• 9:35am - Arnie from Amsterdam calls with two possible job opportunities with TomTom and Backbase. He's a recruiter, so it's still early in the process, but finally, some international leads!
• 10:01am - Ram, the VP from Digitas calls for a technical interview. They're a pretty impressive digital advertising company with some high-end clients, some of whose products I actually buy and use! He's happy, wants to schedule a personal interview. Funny note: while surfing their site, I actually came across this quote:
• 10:27am - Debriefing call with Mark, the recruiter who set thing up with Digitas
• 10:32am - Arron (another recruiter) calls with good news. Bravo! wants to do an interview! Brava!
• 10:40am - Jenna (another recruiter) calls from a Utah-based consulting firm ... this is the freelance job, $50/hour, doable anywhere. They want to hire me for work now! Brava! Brava! A JOB!!!
  
• 11:04am - Jason, a developer from Joost calls for a pre-technical interview. He's happy, tells me about the company and the role I would be playing within it. Wants to schedule an in-person interview with the CTO in New York soon. Brava!
• 11:13am - During the interview, Nick (another recruiter) calls letting me know he's submitted my resume to an undisclosed company.
  
• 11:14am - During the interview Tobias (another recruiter) calls letting me know about two possibilities, one with NBC (possibly relocating to LA) and another with Desihits.
  
• 12:20pm - Joe (another recruiter) calls and wants to set up an interview with Rockstar Games. Brava!
• 12:30pm - I type this blog and consider a celebration lunch. Hmm... maybe I better wash my face first!
  
• 2:00pm - More emails from Amsterdam, a few opportunities freelance with a Florida company, dealing with the fact that the job previously offered was only $10/hr in the fine print, (!!!) and the possibility of another role at Microsoft.
• 5:00pm - Nap. Seriously! This stuff is exhausting!
  

So... things are looking up on the job front, and we remain upbeat, for once that's settled, finding a home will be easier.

Life is good, even when it isn't! :)

Ranking Work

Today I was asked by a recruiter what was important to me in a career, and I wasn't sure what to say; I had never considered the question, and it took me walking a few miles around the city to figure it out! :)

The question was: rank from most to least important the following in relation to a career/job:

• Money
• Technology
• Benefits
• Company

This took me aback, for I had always views them as a weighted sum rather than as a ranking. (All items were important I would have said without thinking.) However, a weighted sum is not a ranking!

I knew right away that I'm not motivated by money. It's nice of course, but it's not something worth devoting a career too. I don't worship money.

Technology too, was easy to rule out. I realize there are people who eat, sleep, and breathe technology, coding even when they get home. That's fantastic; I used to be like that myself, but now I view technology merely as a tool to accomplish a larger purpose. Technology for the sake of technology has its place, but I don't worship tools.

Now benefits are important. Quality of life is important. I.E., time on, time off, work environment, health care, location, location, location, and opportunity for growth. As a former academic, I place very high value on these qualities in my life and before today would have ranked them first. (That's why when I left academia, it was to work for myself.)

To me, company means, "how well the company's ethical values line up with my value system." Do they encourage employees? Are their products ethical? Do their products make the world a better place? Enable knowledge dissemination? Reach all world citizens?

Although companies with particularly undesirable locations would require an otherwise ideal job for me to consider them, I would never consider working for a company that conflicted with my ethics and value system. In fact, I've already been turning a few down!

Thus, I would rank the items as follows, from most to least important:

1. Company
2. Benefits
3. Technology
4. Money

Yes Girl

She casts the net out, seeking for a new job, a new life, new opportunities and new cities.

A lesson learned from the ladies overseas... smile and say yes alot!

Big Things

Last night was pretty magical, as far as nights by yourself go... I walked 8 short blocks to Astoria Park (about 1/2 mile), which runs along the E. River facing Manhattan. I walked through the park, very cute, designed for families with strollers to push their kids around! There was huge pool nearby and tons of people camped out on blankets all over the grass.

Why?

It's at the foot of the Triboro bridge which cuts through massive portions above the NY skyline. Put simply, the Triboro foot is MASSIVE. Think the size of a casino as the left foot of the base of the bride but now bring it up as tall as the Vegas Paris Tower. It's so impressive to stand (or sit on the grass) next to the enormity of it all, never mind you just look left and there's the Brooklyn bridge and Manhattan. Stalin, with his love of fascist design, would have been most pleased! I felt small and nature was definitely trumped!

I actually had to pause for a few seconds to appreciate how this thing must have looked to 1900s eyes. Wow. Then I moseyed on down to the river walk and watched the sun set over the city. Magnificent colors and bold shapes slowly gave way to that familiar NY skyline at dark, again, with the Brooklyn Bridge lights shining over all of it, in much the same way the electric paintings do. In fact, I felt like I was in one of those light-up paintings!

This was my first real chance to really enjoy the city, and as it was, I felt forced to flee the home because my roommate has a boy from Boston over. I didn't really have anywhere to go Friday or Sat. night, so I just went walking around the city. Friday night was bizarre, as I attracted to me an awkward, but otherwise cute drunk boy lost looking for the tube station. I got a lecture from my friend here already on why that kind of thing doesn't happen to women like her, and evidently it has to do with a bitch vibe. I'm not sure I have that much paranoia to draw from (not have been born and grown up with the basic fears a lady needs to survive in big cities) but I tried it as I walked around the neighborhood and it just didn't seem appropriate. Too many nice faces out there living normal lives. Shrug. No, I don't have any danger filters; one of my favourite pastimes was walking around london at all times of night high, drunk, or trippin', so sober, I feel safe most anywhere.

Renting A Headache

This is the second dwelling I've been forced to vacate in two months. Third in four if you count Vedran the skinhead. I'm not living with Narcissus, but seems the young lady which offered to sublet her flat did not in fact have her landlord's blessing to do so. The landlord lives upstairs in the same building and is going through some difficult life troubles which make her a bit... prickly. Well, okay, she's being a downright bitch, and evidently has no problem defying equal opportunity housing laws, but no more will be said of her, save I hope her husband gets better soon and perhaps loves her a bit more when he does. (I shudder to think of what he did to her that has made her hate women so...)

So, once again, instead of being productive at work, enjoying life, hanging with friends, or dating, I'm now spending all my time (that wasn't already spent looking for a job) looking for a place to live. Yay me.

Recruiting A Headache

In the past three days, I have applied for over 20 different jobs, with 20 different cover letters, interviewed with at least 10 recruiters, taken two tests, aced two tests, and spoken with two different hiring managers and one venture capital manager. On the fourth day, I finished a web application for a Vegas client. Tomorrow is a face-to-face with another agency. What a week!

There are some big names in the hat: Sony-BMG, Microsoft, Amazon, Zappos, Joost, HBO, NYU. Can't say I didn't try. There's some smaller companies in there too. A gaming company in Vegas, and a global marketing firm... to quote a friend, those jobs might conflict with my morals, so I could become a stripper instead. But more on that later.

The phone starts ringing around 10am every morning. But from where? Washington? New York? Vegas? Or worse, Utah? Texas? Ah, recruiters. A process not really existing when I graduated, but one that now besets CS grads. We used to have head hunters, but those were a different beast. Nowadays one can make a career by selling other people's technical talents and some kids fresh out of college- marketing students, I imagine- aspire to being known as the person who can get quality people for your company.

Agents. On the surface, it seems absurd, companies hiring expert technicians by screening them through people who have no clue about any of the technologies. What's that say about the company? It's like people buying technology without bothering to learn about the technology, and it doesn't make sense to me. Of course, I don't hire... yet... so it doesn't have to make sense to me! After looking at my background, they sensed that I might someday soon be hiring people, so they put on a good show, hoping that I'd come to them when it came time for me to hire others.

My rock-star genius friend says that recruiters are people who can't get jobs for themselves, so they have to depend on other people to get them. Giggle. Nonetheless, I'm leaving no stone unturned, (it's a learning process, right?) so I have many such agents. They don't even tell me how much they make in commission to ask me detailed questions about technology they don't understand. They're just looking for the right or wrong answers. Or maybe not even the answers, just how you respond to the questions. Eh, I don't even want to know, I just talk nice to them so I can get through to the hiring managers.

It's like the banks in London... they all started hiring pretty, young people to stand in the lobby and be first contact for the customers. I guess it looks good having models hanging out in your store. "Hi, can I help you," they'd always ask, but if you bothered to treat them as anything more than a signpost, you'd be answered with, "have a seat and I'll get someone to help you." Cell phone places are doing that too... having attendants take your name while they fetch another employee who can actually help. Man, when I was young and pretty, oh wait, I still am... when I was younger, I had to put in long hours serving food at McDonalds. The option to be living directory wasn't an option. My, how times change!

Anyway, there are several 6-figure income leads, which is good, cause it will take six digits to live in Manhattan. Prices seem about on par with London, but I think the places are smaller. Like, $2,000 for studios, $2,500 for one bedrooms. That's per month. Seriously, I won't even consider a job here unless it affords $2,500/month for rent. If I can't land such a job, I don't belong in New York, it's that simple.

Ergo, $100K/yr = $66K/yr after taxes - ($2,500 x 12 = 30,000) = $36K/yr in my pocket after rent. That leaves $3K/month, and allowing $2K month for food, clothing, transportation, and entertainment, that's just $1K/month savings.

LOL! $1K/month savings making $100K/yr! But hey, you give to live large in NYC, Manhattan and still save money. So, $100K is my minimum. Fortunately, most people think I could garner higher wages. Cool. Let's see what happens.

Still, it's just a small flat. That kind of money (with more savings) yields a penthouse suite, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking mountain, oceans, or the Vegas strip, so I'm struggling with the idea of paying that much for the privilege of living in Manhattan. Of course, these high paying jobs aren't in Vancouver or Vegas either. Jury is out for Seattle; Microsoft again, didn't even blink an eye at $100K/yr.

Second Epilation Session

So it's taken a long time for my skin (chin) to heal from the last epilation session. Fortunately, life provided enough frustration that I was ready to once again to literally, rip out all of the hair on my face.

Remember, the rationale here is based on prior results. I used to epilate my body and it hurt, now the hair just comes right out. The thinking is that, if I stick with this, eventually, the hair on my face will just come right out and I'll be able to epilate my face as quickly and easily as using an electric razor.

LOVE not having to shave every day! It's such a guy thing anyway, shaving your face.

LOVE having a smooth face! I can't tell you how much more natural it feels than stubble.

LOVE not having ANY trace of beard. I love that I don't have to wear makeup to cover up the hair, visible beneath the surface of my face.

This time wasn't too bad; mostly got hairs that weren't growing during the last plucking session. The sides of neck and face didn't hurt, but chin is still tender. Lip area okay, though it doesn't feel good. Upper lip still hurts with each pluck- like it goes straight into my brain, but, that too is manageable with the right mindset. Putting on a tough girl face really helps. Grrr!

Settled

New York, well, Queens, just across the East River, is quite a change from the desert, but it's a nice place. It's like London, only American. :) I now have 7 weeks to find a job and then, a place to live, but that should be plenty of time for both, right? (fingers crossed)

I'll keep you posted, but so far the LGBT scene here is pretty amazing. I'm hoping to get out this week and start meeting people; it's just been a bit stressful moving, ya know? I guess the good news is that I moved my home, my office, and my bod 3,000 miles and was only down for 5 days. Not bad, eh?

Six In The City

Made my first trip into Manhattan today NY... I'm living a block or two away from the 'N' line. (Cute, cause in London, I lived a block away from the 'Northern' line!)

The trains are air-conditioned. Whoo-hoo! Otherwise I don't know how one could stand the heat. It's seriously oppressive here... says the girl who is used to walking around in 120 degrees. C'mon, say it with me now, "Relative Humidity!" :)

I desperately needed to find some sort of sleeping device. The room I'm renting came with a bed, but the poor mattress was shot. "Feel every spring in the mattress" is an understatement. So once again, the quest for 1/3 of my days in some sort of comfort takes center stage.

I found it funny that listening to ATL music... literally, music I recorded off of the Internet from an Atlanta based radio station fit the vibe of the city. Nonetheless, it was an enjoyable walk from the tube to where I needed to go.

First stop: Bloomingdales, where I pimped out on Lancome products with the help of Richelle and free gifts with purchase. I buy my moisturizer there, and though people tell me that the products aren't worth the money, 1) I disagree, and 2) I usually get key makeup ingredients for free, so it's actually a pretty good deal. Bloomingdales rocks.

Next stop: Nat Sherman. Walking into the store put me right back into London. Because a friend wanted to visit every cigar shop in London, I did too, and each one is was a throwback to pure class. This store proved no different, first-class service (they even gave me free smokes) and old-world wooden style made visiting a real treat. Too bad you can't get Cubans here in America.

Headed toward the mattress store I found Jamba Juice, my all-time favorite California store, tied with Baja Fresh. Imagine my surprise when, finally, I could order off the menu! Yes, they finally have menu items for "fruit + ice, nothing else". Strawberries, Bananas, Cherries oh my!

Next was Aldo, another taste of London. I think I bought all of my shoes there and at Top Shop. I didn't buy anything today, which was hard; 50% off sale!

Along the way another favorite, Victoria's Secret. Now if you look, you'll see as their address, "London" but did you know there isn't one VS store in all of London? The buggers even have a listing in the phone book! Imagine my disappointment when I arrive there only to find that it's nothing more than ... well, nothing. There weren't any signs of any businesses at that address. They never answered the phone either. I smell something fishy. Anyway, I needed some lotion, so thankfully, this one was an actual store.

Finally arriving at Sports Authority. LOL, yes, SA to get a bed. I opted for the Coleman Queen size air mattress. I love the fact that you can buy a queen size bed in a box smaller than the Wii box! At least now I'll always have a bed!

It's heavy though, so I made straight for home afterward. Thanks to Miss Winn's help, I was able to navigate the subway like a local and get home before dark, exhausted, but looking forward to a great night's sleep.