From Sisyphus to a Phoenix: a Millennial's Epic Job Hunt Saga

(NOTE: I usually try to write light-hearted things on my blog but this post is different - I have put it off for a long time because it was overwhelming and exhausting to think back on what this last year+ of job hunting has been. I did it though for a catharsis if nothing else so I warn you that this post is long, but, so was my job hunt. I did at least find lots of pictures! But, it is a year+ in one blogpost so just a heads up that this isn't a quick read)



My sweet friend, Chelsea, sent me this card LAST FALL as encouragement for my job hunt that was proving difficult.

The card was blank but she had written inside that "sometimes job hunting can feel like this."

She was right.

My job hunt felt the same: exerting so much energy but seeing no result. The boulder wasn't moving and I wasn't getting a job offer.

This card and the way I felt made me think of myself as a modern-day Sisyphus, the king from Greek mythology who was punished with having to roll a huge boulder up a hill only to have it roll back down again... and then repeat that for eternity.

My job hunt has gave me a lot of empathy for Sisyphus:

I graduated May 8th of 2015 and literally took off my masters hood and then loaded up the u-haul. I left for NC early the next morning and moved into my new apartment that evening of May 9th. 

I didn't have much time in grad school so my job hunt really started once we moved to NC. 

------ TEMP JOB # 1: The Poop Plant ------

Last summer, I wrote a post about "My 'shitty' first job" after grad school - a temp position working for the Durham county's wastewater treatment plant, what I still affectionately refer to as "the poop plant." While I took that job just to pay the bills and joked that it was "shitty," it was actually a wonderful month and I still keep in touch with several people I worked with there. 

------ TEMP JOB # 2: United Way ------

I ended up leaving "the poop plant" for a Community Engagement Fellowship with our local United Way (UW). While I got so much out of the experience and gained a wonderful group of friends, the position was just 5 months, for their busy season, the fundraising campaign. However.... 

------ ROCK ROLL # 1: Also United Way ------

Their Community Engagement Manager position came open and it sounded up my alley. It would be doing a lot with events and volunteers.  I heard the application count hit 300 so I didn't hold my breath. However, I was called in for a 1st round interview. I didn't get my hopes up because I thought, perhaps they were just doing that to be nice since I already worked there.

But then I made it to:

• the 2nd round interview
• a 3rd round interview with a panel of 5 people
• an interview with my would-be supervisor's boss
• 3 back-to-back 30 minute interviews with the higher ups
• and I had to submit a portfolio of my event experience

2 months in, I had made it from 300+ applicants down to being 1 of the final 2. 

Anddddd, I didn't get the position. 

Like Sisyphus, the rock that I pushed so far up the hill, rolled all the way back down to the bottom. 

------ ROCK ROLL # 2: Girl Scouts ------

They had an opening for a Membership Initiative Coordinator who would help with programs and community outreach to get girls and volunteers involved.

I applied and made it through:

• a phone interview with my would-be boss 
• an in person interview for 1.5 hours 
• an interview with my would-be boss and her boss too (once again in the final round of 2)

Unfortunately, the other candidate had worked with GS previously so she knew the programs and the culture already so they chose her.

And the rock rolled back down...

------ ROCK ROLL # 3: Local Foundation ------

I applied for an awesome local foundation called the Jamie Kirk Hahn Foundation that does amazing work to build leaders and communities and tackle important issues like poverty, education and food insecurity.

I made it through:

• a phone interview
• an in person interview with the Executive Director 
• an interview with the man who was married to the late Jamie Kirk Hahn and helped found this organization

Once again, I kid you not, I made it to the final 2.

And, once again, I was the runner up.

And the rock rolled back down...

------ TEMP JOB # 3: The Poop Plant Again ------

My friend from the poop plant told me they had another temp opening that would be a new role, with a raise. I happily went back to my "shitty" starting place because it actually - again - wasn't shitty at all. They were so good to me, flexible with my interview schedule, the work wasn't stressful and it paid the bills. Just goes to show that you never know where a great opportunity might come from!

------ ROCK ROLL # 4: Orange County ------ 

The next interview gauntlet came when I applied to my local government's Community Center Coordinator position. I would be managing events, programs, outreach and would have the perk of a 5 minute commute to my office. 

Again, I made it past a phone interview. Then I had a 2 hour intense process of: 

• a panel interview with my would-be peer workers
• an assessment
• a powerpoint presentation of the plan I was asked to create for our centers
• and then a final panel interview with all of the big wigs in that department of the county

This finalist round, I don't know if I was number 2, 3, or 4, but I was NOT number 1. 

And the rock rolled back down...

------ ROCK ROLL # 5: UNC ------

This next position was really cool, working at UNC's social justice center as the Social Innovation Initiative Coordinator.

Again, similar pattern: 

• phone interview
• in person interview with a panel of 4
• and then another interview with a higher up staff person

And, I wish I was making this up, but again - after being a finalist of 3 or 4 - I remained a runner up and was not hired.  I was beginning to wonder if I could ever get someone to make me a job offer!?!

And the rock rolled back down....

WHEN IT RAINS, IT POURS:

Still at the poop plant,  I was playing the field and interviewing for 3 positions at the same time. 

1. GS (Again!) - My would-be-boss for the last position recommended me for a Membership Director position. I went through:
• a phone interview 
• a 2.5 hour in person interview
2. Google Fiber (!!?!!) - Someone I'd worked with at UW recommended me for their Community Impact Manager role. I was intrigued so I applied and made it through:  
• a phone interview
• a virtual interview - basically I had to record myself in a few videos answering some questions 
• an in-person interview with a recruiter
• a phone interview with my would-be-boss 
• then an in-person interview at Google Fiber with 3 other staff members
3. NC IDEA - This would be filling in for a woman going out on maternity leave as their Community Manager and had the chance to work temp-to-perm into another role. For them, I had:
• 3 one-on-one interviews with the staff in the office 

Then, because truth really is stranger than fiction: I was given an offer by all 3 within the same 24 hours. 

After so many "no"s, I could not believe it: Now I had to figure out who to tell "no."

1. No for GS - It required us to move to another county and we had just gotten settled in Hillsborough.
2. No for Google Fiber (!!??!!!) - I've never been very corporate and it wasn't the amazing benefits of google or a job guarantee because it was actually under that staffing agency. Plus, tons of overtime required for evening and weekend events. 
3. Yes to NC IDEA - This one had a lot I liked (nonprofit, community development, the strong chance to be permanent) so I committed to the 4 month-contract for her maternity leave. 

------ TEMP JOB # 4 & ROCK ROLL # 6: Both NC IDEA ------

I started at NC IDEA as they gained a new CEO and added a couple of huge grants. It was an exciting time and I learned a lot and met many great people. Unfortunately, with all of those changes, I found out the permanent position wasn't a guarantee.

This time, I had made it ever-so-close to the top of the job-hunt-mountain, but the rock rolled back down, taking me down with it.

I decided to take a week-ish off from job hunting to reassess and recalibrate a bit so I painted a coffee table and found a fresh new start. 

NEW APPROACH

Through the countless hours of job searching, applying, interview prepping, interviews, and overanalyzing, I had learned and grown so much. I decided to no longer be worrisome about my choppy work history and instead own it for all I had gained through the past year. 

I started the job hunt again with new determination to make it up that f-ing mountain. 

To recap, in the last year, I have: 

1.  Worked 4 temp positions

1.  Applied to about 30 positions

1.  Had over 35 interviews

1.  Came in #2 (or was a finalist of 3 or 4 candidates) 5 times. In a row. 

Limping through this Sisyphean job hunt saga and the other tough aspects of the last year, Scott (also on a grueling job hunt) and I learned to laugh at things (when we weren't crying, cussing, praying or interview-prepping)...

What if he was happy? Maybe he took pride in his work or appreciated the rhythm of his repetitive task? Or, maybe it just sucked and was hard?

------ THE MOUNTAIN-TOP ------ 

Either way, I am glad to report that I am not Sisyphus after all and I finally made it to the top of the job-hunt-mountain!

I had been playing the job hunt field again and was moving forward on 3 positions: 

1. Habitat for Humanity -  Societal Impact and Advocacy Manager. I made it to the essay application round and was set for a 1st round interview
2. A Tech Co - This was a random opportunity someone recommended me for and would be a recruiting role. I made it through a phone interview and was set to interview in person.
3.  Elon University - A program coordinator position with their Center for the Advancement of Teaching and Learning as well as their Center for Engaged Learning.  I made it through: 
• a phone interview
• 2.5 hour final round of:
• 2 panel interviews
• a 3-part-assessment
• an interview with the director of the centers

My Elon final interview was on a Tuesday and, on Thursday, my now boss offered me the job!?!

This was a quintessential case of "1 in the hand is worth 2 in the bush." 

I took the night to think about it but, while I was intrigued by the other 2 positions, this position would use my degrees, grow my skills and really interested me, so I accepted the position on Friday, exactly one week after my NC IDEA temp position ended. 

At first, I was in shock and feeling crazy like "Since I was just barely back in the job hunting saddle, should I accept this job or keep looking?" but, I realized had put in plenty of job hunting time.

Starting my Job

I started at Elon earlier this month and I love it. God truly does bless the broken road (or mountain!) and his plans are better than ours so I'm grateful all my "no"s led me to where I am.

One of my favorite things about this position is the school's mascot - a phoenix - which resonates with me almost as much as the boulder image from my friend, Chelsea's, sweet card.

I feel like I'm finally getting the chance to rise, stronger from all that mountain climbing and boulder-pushing, reborn from the ashes of this past year. #risingup #beautyfromashes #fromsisyphustoaphoenix

Sarah Grace gets attacked by a dog... a 2nd time

Forewarning: this is a graphic post with lots of pictures of my wounds. Don't read it if you are weak-stomached.


This would happen to me. I hesitated to call it a Sarah Grace story because I didn't do anything to cause this harm to myself but, nonetheless, if a freak accident would happen to someone, it would be me, Sarah Grace, so here it is.

It was an afternoon like so many others; I had called a friend on my way home from work and having just parked at my apartment complex, I went to check the mail. I was having a phonedate with my friend Mikah who happened to be about 8.5 months pregnant. I was quietly, calmly and slowly walking and talking as I crossed the parking lot.

The Attack

All of a sudden, out of nowhere I felt an intense pain in the back of my thigh. I turned around and see a dog that had just bit me and it was coming at me again. Since I had half-turned at that point, the dog grabbed at my ankle this time and I had to shake several times with a lot of force to get it off of my ankle. In the process, my shoe - a little office flat, not tied or buckled on to my foot - fell off.

As a result, the 3rd time the dog came at me, I was fully turned around and expecting it so I kicked at it but, because I no longer had a shoe on, it got the bottom of my heel.

Finally, the owner got the dog and was holding it. It was wearing a leash and the owner had been there the whole time but somehow the dog got away from him and came after me. I'm still not sure what provoked it.

The Aftermath

Though I was bit three times, my foot was what was bleeding the most. It kept steadily dripping and was immediately bruising on my ankle. I was panicking.

Part of why I was so concerned was because, as some of you may remember, I've actually been attacked by a dog before, but that bite didn't bleed nearly as much and it didn't even bruise until the next day. As a result, I was freaking out that this dog may have gotten a vein or tendon because of how much blood I was losing and immediate bruising. I then began freaking out that I may not be able to walk again. Clearly, I was getting irrational ;)

 Next, I feared I might faint from the blood loss. PLUS - the man was still just a few feet away from me and just holding the dog by the collar. He hadn't put it in the back of his truck or moved it away from me or anything. He did apologize though and kept assuring me the dog is up to date on shots. I hobbled over to lean up against a car and call Scott.

His phone was still on silent from work so it took 3 calls til he answered. Before I could even finish my sentence, he was rushing out to find me.

I also noticed my poor friend Mikah had called me back several times. I texted her to explain I was bit by a dog. She said all of a sudden she had just heard me screaming. She didn't know if I was being robbed, raped, whatever. I apologized if I almost sent her into pre-term labor.

Still bleeding, I sat down to avoid falling on my face. When Scott showed up a minute later, he found me like this (which, of course, I insisted be documented because I scrapbook and blog and this scenario would obviously need to be documented!).

I don't really know what my face says here but I was in a daze, hurting, irrationally upset and worried about if we went to the ER, how much it would cost.

Plus, now about 15 feet away, that little snot of a dog who did this to me was staring me down. Fortunately, Scott had his cop training kick in so he got the dog owner's apartment number, phone number, pictures of me AND a picture of the dog so we had all our evidence.

Unfortunately, now I can't use artistic license or Andrews exaggeration to say the dog that attacked me was some huge, ferocious, beast of a dog that weighed as much as I did.

No, I am reduced to the truth: I was attacked by this cute, little dog.

NOTE: its tail is wagging. And the dog barely comes up to my knee.

And do you see that smug look on it's face!?!

Priorities

Scott insisted we go to the ER. Dazed and hurting as I may have been, I did not forget to be my anal, clean self because I didn't want to ruin the car's carpet with blood. I asked Scott if he would please go get a towel for me to wrap around my foot before he retrieved the car from the other end of the parking lot to pick me up.

As he left, a boy of about 10 or 11 kept circling around my end of the parking lot on his scooter, unabashedly staring me down. I guess I was the most exciting thing he'd seen at our apartment in awhile. I thought to myself, "Thank God the dog didn't attack him or one of the older women who live by themselves in our apartment building."

While Scott and the boy on the scooter were gone, the female owner of the dog arrived. She said, "Oh my God. Oh no. Honey, I'm so sorry. She ain't never bit someone where it bled this much before."

I wish someone could have been there to document whatever expression came onto my face when I heard that.

She went on to assure me that she has a sweet dog and it goes to doggy day care and is a good dog. At this point, I'm just wanting her to leave so I tried to gracefully say, "I'm sure he is and I know accidents happen, I just didn't even see him coming."

She interrupted me to say, "Oh, it's a she."

Oh, no she didn't.

She did.

I reallllly wish someone could have documented my face then.

Fortunately, before I could have said or done something I regretted in my irrational, delusional state of pain and blood loss, Scott arrived.

He helped me into the car and off to the ER we went.

My 1st Ever ER Visit

On the way there, I was losing it and bawling and freaking out. However, once we got inside and I realized I wasn't dying or going to lose the ability to walk, etc. etc. like I had been worrying about, I calmed down a bit and even mustered a smile when I asked Scott to document this part of the saga:

We had to wait a while and they required us to start an official report for animal control services. Turns out the animal control officers knew this dog. It had in fact bitten someone (or several people?) before.

More shocking and distasteful than that, we found out the dog's name was Lily. Lily!?! Sounds so damn dainty.

Anywho, the visit drug on. Once we finally got back to a room, the examination and cleaning of my wounds was made difficult by the fact that I was wearing the tightest pair of pants that I own. Literally.

I didn't want to take my tight pants all the way off - that would get blood all over them, hurt as the tight fabric had to be pulled over my ankle and heel and, most importantly, they would have to be put back on and hurt my wounds all over again when I had to leave since you don't get to keep those hospital gowns.

I decided to just meet in the middle and pull them part way up from my ankle and part way down from my thigh. You can see, at this point, I'm not sure if I was having fun with it or had just lost my mind but I thought I'd done a good job solving that situation. NOTE: I don't think I even asked for this photo to be taken; I think Scott just wanted to take it to document my crazy self at the moment.

By the end of 2 hours, they had cleaned my wounds, given me some bandages and prescriptions and sent me on my way.

On the Bright Side 

One positive out of all of this was I got to live out a childhood dream. We went to the closest pharmacy which was at Walmart. We didn't think someone could pick up narcotics for someone else (they prescribed me Vicodin for the pain) so we both went to drop off my prescription. Since I couldn't really walk, Scott had to get me one of these which my mom never let me ride, though my brother and I had always begged for her to let us take one for a joy ride when we were little.

While some dreams do come true, this was anti-climactic. It was slow as molasses. But, we got my Vicodin and an antibiotic to help prevent infection.

That was the beginning of Scott being a great nurse and taking such great care of me as I healed.

The Wounds

I had 3 bites. Later that night I, of course, documented all of them. This time, however, it was not just for a blogpost or scrapbook but for an animal control services official report.

The cut on my heel made it hard to walk because it became swollen and sore and kept breaking open. Fortunately, our neighbor had an old pair of crutches so I used them for the first week or so when I couldn't really walk. That wound was the first to heal, though after about a month.

The second to heal was arguably the nastiest looking one. That tiny dog had a lot of force because it got high on my thigh and left this dark mark with a huge knot:

This is 4 days after the attack. You can see the two chunks missing from the teeth and the tape marks where we had the bandages on. 

It got larger, darker and nastier. Some people thought it was a tattoo from afar. This photo is about a week out from the attack. It stayed bruised for around 3 weeks and the knot stuck around for over a month.

The one on my ankle was ultimately the worst with seemingly each movement ripping back open the wound. While the ER doctors said it could have used stitches, they avoid stitching bite wounds because mouths are so dirty and the rate of infection goes up astronomically. Even so, it was such a deep wound that it was slow to heal and got infected a couple times.

Bruising, discoloration, swelling, nasty walking-dead-level-gross-flesh looking stuff. I kept taking pictures not just to have gross documentation but because Scott's step-dad is a firefighter/EMT and he was letting me know (a) if it was infected or a serious problem and (b) how to clean/care for the wounds.

Fortunately, 2 months out (last week), it is back to almost normal:

It's still a little sore and tight and I can't do all the yoga moves I did before the attack (ironically "downward facing dog" which uses so much of the back of the thigh, the ankle and heel is what I've had the most trouble with!) but I'm getting there.

So What Happened to Lily?

She was required by animal services to be in a 10 day quarantine to check her for diseases, most notably rabies. Praise God, she was up to date on all of her shots and rabies free so I didn't have to do any follow up shots after the attack.

Scott and I both grew up with dogs and our family has always had them so we are dog people. As a result, we didn't try to push for her to be put down. Plus, we were trying to stay on good terms with the dog owners so they would pay the bills. Fortunately, they did pay us and covered the meds and the ER bills. The man even gave Scott an extra $50 to "take your wife to dinner" as an apology. It was nice of them and well-timed as our 2-year anniversary was the week after they paid us so we used that to splurge on a meal out. I even wrote the neighbors a thank you note to try to keep any awkward tension at bay + we were truly grateful for how cooperative they were through the process.

However, Lily is now officially listed as "a vicious and dangerous dog" in the county and the state because she has bitten more than one person and because of the severity of my injuries. As a result, if this happens again, I don't think there is an option and Lily will be put down. Until then, she is required to be muzzled whenever out of the house. We've run into them a couple times and Lily has been muzzled. It is still a bit unsettling.

So there you have it. Sarah Grace attacked by a dog, for a 2nd time.

Here's to hoping I don't have to write a 3rd post on this topic!

Vanderbilt Shmanderbilt Degree - A Large Slice of Humble Pie at the Temp Agency & the DMV

Earlier this month, I received a Masters degree from Vanderbilt. This was technically my third degree because I double-majored in undergrad.

Don't let the degrees fool you though. It seems I'm just book smart because I've been struggling recently with real life. 

Adult life is humbling. 

I wasn't getting too big for my britches with this additional degree but, nonetheless, I've had a huge slice of humble pie since moving to NC. I thought tests and grades ended with grad school but I was wrong. 

Trouble with the Temp Test

First, I went to a local temp agency to try to get a job to pay the bills and buy some time until I can land the "dream job" I'm searching for... you know the one I just went into debt trying to prepare myself for ;) I don't want to rush into the first salaried job that I find. 

Well, what do ya know... I failed the temp agency test. Yep. I repeat: Vanderbilt Masters Grad failed the temp test ;) 

It was true-false and you can only miss 3... but I missed 4. 

I'm sure this was hard to imagine butttt I was talking the whole time while taking it ;) I've been cooped up in my apartment alone and unpacking all day every day so my extroverted self has been losing my mind without much social interaction. 

As a result, I was just chatting away with the man who worked there and wasn't paying enough attention nor was I trying too hard with the test. It seems I don't multi-task too well when trying to determine "the best placement of my feet to avoid lumbar strain" and the other random questions that were on their test ;) 

Fortunately, I was able to retake it and did fine. Also, my typing speed was double the average applicant (it seems writing long grad school papers paid off!) so I believe I should land a secretary job here soon enough. 

Feeling Dumb at the DMV

I need a NC drivers license so I had to make the dreaded trip to the DMV. Why must all DMV workers be so mean? I understand it may not be the best job in the world but this lady was extremely rude. 

Still craving social interaction and never having met a stranger, I sat down being all friendly and noticed the woman was wearing palmetto tree earrings so I asked if she was originally from SC. She wasn't but it turns out she had just visited Charleston where she bought the earrings as a souvenir. I tried to chat about the city but she was having none of it. 

This lady was all about the task at hand. We struggled through insurance and verifying my address and all of that. Everything was going along per usual until we got to the vision test. 

NC does not do it like they do in SC and TN. 

I already struggle with my awful vision and have to squint through that weird machine and the germaphobe in me fears I will get a breakout from putting my face on there - I mean how often do they wipe those things down?? 

Anyways, I managed to read all the tiny letters. But then, this is where it got different: NC has a bunch of the street signs that you have to identify.

I did fine on the median one and the one warning about the steep hill. They were obvious.  

 

But, then there were 4 or 5 blank ones.... 

I just told the lady the shapes because I was thinking this was still a vision test. 

She said, all mean and condescending, "I know what the shapes are but what are the signs?"

Perhaps I was having performance anxiety as I had not prepared for this OR maybe I was just having a PTSD-esque flashback to my 15 year old self worried about failing the drivers permit test but, either way, I just couldn't remember them. 

All I could say was "I'm sorry. I don't know." 

But I was getting frustrated and wanted to also say, 

"Look lady. Those aren't signs. Those are shapes. Because they are blank. And when is the last time anyone has ever seen a blank sign on the side of the road? Oh that's right - never. Because then it wouldn't be a sign. Because that is the point of signs: they have symbols on them that convey meaning. But these little shapes you're asking me to identify are blank so they are not signs." 

But, of course, my southern belle self just sat there, humbled, and politely repeated, "I'm sorry. I don't know." 

As I said in the blogpost title" Vanderbilt Shmanderbilt Degree" ;) It wasn't much help at the temp agency or the DMV!

Do YOU know what the yellow circle sign is for? 

Fortunately, I guess they don't take the test too seriously or perhaps that mean woman just didn't want to have to see me again on a different day or whatever because she gave me my license. 

What she did NOT give me though, were the answers to the blank signs. 

The nerd in me had to find out. 

Turns out, (in case you too didn't know) the yellow circle sign is a railroad crossing sign: 

But you know what gives that away??? 

The R and the R and the cross/X that is marked ON the sign... not the yellow and the circle part. Jeeze Louise. 

The house shaped yellow sign is a school crossing and the oblong yellow triangle (that I have never seen in my entire life) is supposed to be a "no passing zone" sign. I don't even remember what the other one or two signs were. 

But that lady was being so mean and rude and I was caught off-guard by the blank "signs" section that I wanted to submit this as my answer: 

I don't think that would have helped me walk out of there with a license though ;) 

Hopefully I don't have to eat any more humble pie but I will keep y'all posted... 

  

S#@! Happens - My Sarah Grace Moment that Led to my First Meltdown of Married Life

A picture is worth a thousand words, right?

Well, here is one of them that lives up to that saying:

Yes. That happened.

And, believe it or not, my melt-down did not happen in that moment.

"Ironing"

First off, I never iron; ironing for me is pulling the clothes immediately out of the dryer and hanging them on a hanger so they don't wrinkle. I never even bought a full-sized ironing board but still have the 2-foot long, 5-inch high, bright-pink dorm-sized one that I got as a freshman in college.... and it has seriously been used less than 10 times since then.

Admittedly, I am inexperienced with ironing ;)

Having said that, now that I have a husband and he often has to wear khakis to work, my version of "ironing" wasn't doing the trick. He was attempting to iron his pants and left the iron face down on the khakis and after I fussed that doing that would scorch the fabric, he suggested I iron them. Boy did I eat my own words.

Burning

I still have no idea how but in the midst of ironing and talking, I set the iron FACE DOWN on the floor. Just 5-10 seconds but enough time to do damage. And serious damage.

Sarah Grace struck again.

It burned the carpet leaving a dark indent AND we have short-haired carpet so I couldn't trim off the burn. Not that I was being rational and thinking of that in the panic that followed my discovery of the burn; here I am trying to scrape off the scorched portion with a knife. I was so focused that I didn't even notice when poor Scott was documenting his crazy wife:

To make matters worse, of course I wasn't ironing in a dimly lit corner. Nope, that would be too convenient to cover the burn mark. We set up ironing in the middle of the floor and in our teeny tiny apartment, the burn is visible not only in the living room but also from the bedroom, front door, kitchen AND breakfast nook.

I had a mini-freak out but no meltdown. That came the next day.

Crying

I didn't want to have to pay the $500 security deposit when we move out of the apartment... so I was determined to fix my mistake. I researched oodles of options and watched a few youtube videos and then set out on a mission to right my wrong.

I especially felt the need to correct the burn mark mistake since the day after I burned the carpet, my car was due in for its repair from my previous Sarah-Grace moment and the deductible was also $500. I couldn't handle being the cause of $1,000 worth of mistakes.

Sadly, there didn't seem to be much I could do to fix the burn mark. My only hope, according to the far reaches of google, seemed to be sandpaper and a scrub-brush.

Fast-forward to the end of the day: I had purchased the necessary materials and been scrubbing and rubbing at the iron burn for a good 30 minutes when Scott got home.

What was his reaction when he walked in to find his wife scrunched down on my knees, red in the face, raw-fingered, with my hair up and my nose down to the floor, sandpapering the carpet...?

Laughter.

Looking back, obviously I can see how that was a natural reaction. However, in that moment, it was not the reaction I was hoping for. And that is when my meltdown happened.

The Lesson

Why the iron burn incident was my breaking point, I don't know. 

Context: 

The backstory is that Scott and I have been great but our first bit of marriage has been filled with a lot of transition and stress. We did all the normal post-wedding stuff  like registry returns and purchases, changing over our insurance and bills, writing literally over 100 thank you cards and getting adjusted to living with one another. 

But we also moved him half-way across the country and tried to organize our very small apartment which was already a squeeze when just I lived in it. Plus, we both started and quit bad jobs AND found and started new jobs this summer. Both those new jobs have had crazy hours and lots of stress. We did a family trip to see my family and then another one to see his family - both family vacations within the same month. And, I've been prepping for the next year of grad school. 

In the midst of all of that, I had kept it together and just plugged along grateful to be married and moving forward with our life together. However, inside me was a pressure cooker of stress - trying to be the perfect wife, daughter, daughter-in-law, employee, student, friend, etc. 

The Real Problem: 

Despite all those serious stresses, what broke me was an iron burn to my carpet!?! More specifically, my husband laughing at my earnest efforts to sandpaper the iron-burn away. 

I was trying to fix my mistake, to remove the obvious blemish on my attempt at perfection. 

But the truth is that sometimes s#@! just happens. 

Fortunately, I have a husband with a great sense of humor and perspective. When my meltdown started, he immediately quit laughing and helped me realize that it was just carpet and by the end of our conversation, he had me laughing. 

Of course, my meltdown was about more than an iron burn. It was about how I was trying to do the impossible: hold myself, my life and my home together perfectly, even when s#@! happens... whether that is an iron burn, job changes, school demands, etc. 

What I Learned: 

As I mentioned, that mark is in the very middle of our tiny apartment. I can see it from just about anywhere in our home. Sadly, it hasn't faded much and doesn't look like it will :(

We might be out $500 when we leave here but I've learned a lesson that is priceless and I'm reminded of it every time I see that freakin' iron-burn: I'm not going to be perfect and I never will be. Shit happens and we can either accept it, laugh and learn from it OR be bitter and beat ourselves up. I beat myself up and took it out on the carpet with the knife and sandpaper for a few days but now I have learned to sigh and chuckle when I see the mark. 

Most of all I have learned that I have a great husband who doesn't get upset at things like iron burns or at me when I pull a Sarah Grace moment AND that he should be the one to do his own ironing from now on ;) 

Guerilla Girls - Creative Complaining

Who are they? 

According to their website, they are "feminist masked avengers in the tradition of anonymous do-gooders like Robin Hood, Wonder Woman and Batman." And, "We're a bunch of anonymous females who take the names of dead women artists as pseudonyms and appear in public wearing gorilla masks." Why? "We wear gorilla masks to focus on the issues rather than our personalities."

And I was lucky enough to see their informative and very entertaining presentation at CofC this semester. 

Their goal: 

To "expose sexism, racism and corruption in politics, art, film and pop culture." And, "use humor to convey information, provoke discussion, and show that feminists can be funny."

And how do they do that? 

"With facts, humor and outrageous visuals. We reveal the understory, the subtext, the overlooked, the and the downright unfair." 

Check out some examples below of how they use art to accuse art: 

 

And people have noticed: 

"Our work has been passed around the world by our tireless supporters. In the last few years, we’ve appeared at over 90 universities and museums, as well as in The New York Times, The Washington Post, The New Yorker, Bitch, and Artforum; on NPR, the BBC and CBC; and in many art and feminist texts."

But they do way more than posters: 

"We are authors of stickers, billboards, many, many posters and other projects... We’re part of Amnesty International’s Stop Violence Against Women Campaign in the UK; we're brainstorming with Greenpeace. In the last few years, we've unveiled anti-film industry billboards in Hollywood just in time for the Oscars, and created large scale projects for the Venice Biennale, Istanbul and Mexico City. We dissed the Museum of Modern Art at its own Feminist Futures Symposium, examined the museums of Washington DC in a full page in the Washington Post, and exhibited large-scale posters and banners in Athens, Bilbao, Montreal, Rotterdam, Sarajevo and Shanghai.

In addition, they have published several funny and interesting books: 

Confessions of The Guerrilla Girls

 

The Guerrilla Girls' Bedside Companion to the History of Western Art

 

 

  

Bitches, Bimbos and Ballbreakers: The Guerrilla Girls' Illustrated Guide to Female Stereotypes

 

 

The Guerrilla Girls' Art Museum Activity Book

 

 

And their plans for the future? 

"More creative complaining! More facts, humor and fake fur! More appearances, actions and artworks. We could be anyone; we are everywhere." 

 If you want to know more, here is a snippet from their F.A.Q. page:

How did your group get started? Why do you call yourselves Guerrillas? Why girls? Why the gorilla masks? Why the pseudonyms?

That is ancient history....you can read all about it in our interview.

 Or, just check out their whole website :) 

Doing Gender, Buying Drinks - My FIRST YouTube video :)

A Little Conversation with my Mom

Mom: What are your plans for tonight?

Me: Oh, um, I'll be going out to a couple bars.    

          NOTE: this is extremely out of the ordinary for me. 

Mom: What!?! 

Me: Yea, well I have to. 

Mom: What do you mean you have to?

Me: It's for class; I'm collecting data. 

Mom: Nice try. 

Me: No, really! It is for my Gender and Society class. 

It really was. Between you and me (and the rest of the blogsphere!), I was not simply trying to pull one over on my mom. 

The Assignment

Our group project assignment called for us to examine gender out in the field. And, believe it or not, of all people, yours truly was assigned to examine gender in a field study of a bar on a downtown Saturday night. 

Most of my peers were either intensely jealous or in disbelief. 

My parents were a little confused in how this counted as education they were paying for ;) 

And me, well... 

Mind you, before this project, I could count on one hand the times I'd been in a bar on a Saturday night. Lame, I know but a Southern Belle has to maintain her classy image and that cannot be done slamming back cold ones in a bar ;) 

Our Research

Nonetheless, I've discussed before that when a grade is involved, the NERD in me wins out ;)

So the Southern Belle in me risked my class and any chance at being cool by heading out to the bars, notebook in hand. 

I kid you not. 

So my group members and I sat there observing, scribbling notes and taking interviews. Unlike most group projects, though, our research did come complete with a Tequila Sunrise - an attempt to blend in despite the aforementioned notebook which hopefully everyone was too drunk to notice.

People did notice, however, when we returned on another night with a video camera. Strange how intoxicated people flock to be recorded... a clear indication that alcohol affects your logical reasoning ;)

Lastly, we also recorded ourselves - and I had not one drop to drink so I cannot blame alcohol on that decision. So forgive my poor acting skills but our aim was to create a satire of sorts (by doing gender wrong) based on what we discovered in our research on how to do gender in a bar scene.

Our Focus

We decided clothing was too obvious: duh, girls wear less and boys wear more. Researching that would have not been very insightful to our class or you. 

Instead, we chose to focus on the gender of drinks. 

Below, you'll find our answer via a few interesting and entertaining descriptions and interviews of what drink to buy if you want a masculine, feminine, or gender neutral drink.

I hope you like it!

Oh and if you DO like it, please pass it on. For those of you who know me (and my YouTube video obsession), you know how it would please me beyond belief for this to go viral ;) 

Then we could all drink to that - in whatever gender of drink you'd like!