Comma Dot Comma

Well, I’ve been waiting for the final word on my second interview but so far it hasn’t arrived so I’m just going to give you the breakdown.

I went back on Tuesday for Round Two of the interview, this time with the same two people I met with before (who would be my immediate supervisors) and also the director of the department. We sat in a different dingy concrete room with nothing on the walls, and this time when they asked me to sit anywhere I asked back, “Is this a test?” Got a laugh that time. The round two interview had been described as a more informal conversation, essentially a chance for the higher-up to stick her “Approved” stamp on my forehead before I went rolling down the conveyor belt. Eerily, our outfits matched (the director’s and mine), and after a brief inner struggle I decided against commenting on her good taste. Dr. G later suggested the line, “I see you got the memo.”
The fact that I still haven’t heard back (a sharp difference from hearing back within minutes after all our other interactions) leads me to believe that all did not go as planned. Since I was already leaning away from accepting the job, I figured I had little to lose by asking more questions about the values and direction of the organization. First the director gave a little speech, in which she confirmed my impressions that place is in the middle of a major transition from laissez-faire, feel-good, non-profit Christian organization, to lean, efficient, for-profit competitive machine. I’ve got no problems with for-profit in general, so that didn’t necessarily rule it out, but I wanted to hear more about how she was implementing that transition.

At one point I added, “If you’re looking for someone who will do adequate, unremarkable work and keep her head down–someone you will never have to think about at all– I’m probably not the best employee for you. On the other hand, if you’re looking for someone who will ask a lot of questions, strive to grow and improve, and seek out opportunities to add value to the organization, then I would be a good fit.”

This is exceedingly true about me. The time a supervisor gains in not having to train me much is only saved up for the future, when I’m ready to learn more and do more. In one job after another I get restless and start rattling my cage. Generally my supervisors find me tiring at first. It seems to me that some people in management positions spend more time thinking about the people over them than the people under them. They have to prepare reports and budgets and meet standards and goals set by their bosses, and implement their bosses’ new ideas. Therefore, they prefer a very quiet staff that can be left alone and trusted to do their jobs. Understandably, they’d rather not think about you at all. These are the people who sigh when I say, “look, I noticed… [insert unaddressed problem and its consequences here]… but if I reprioritize the items in my workload for two weeks, I can [do a, b, c] to get it resolved. What do you think?” They hadn’t noticed the problem and they don’t really want to think about it, especially since they are working on the budget or the contract or the new marketing strategy.
Then when I make their lives easier and make them look good, they like me again. I wish I were better at keeping my head down; in fact, over the years I have gotten better at biding my time and wiser about when and how I spout my big ideas. Maybe in another five years I’ll be even more mellowed out.

But for now my favorite managers are those who serve the interests of their company by investing in people. I like supervisors who help shape my responsibilities to match my strengths, and who also notice areas of potential and give me opportunities to test them out. I like supervisors who pay attention to the work I do and give me feedback and suggestions. These three things enable me to make my most efficient and valuable contributions. On the one hand, I’m steadily doing good work in the areas of my strengths, and on the other, I’m gradually expanding my skills.

Anyway, back to the interview. I get the impression that the director found me a bit uppity, an impression perhaps reinforced when I asked some questions about the contributions of different team members and departments– trying to suss out how the organization views “the little people.”  Then she talked about salary and benefits– slightly behind what I was getting before. I used Tara’s question: “Is there any room for movement in the salary?” (thanks, Tara!) The answer was a somewhat embarrassed and reluctant “no.”

So now I’m thinking that either they are waiting as long as they can to see if they get any better applicants, or they’re looking at their budget to see if there’s any room for movement after all. Unless it’s something really huge, I think I’ll say no. It doesn’t sound fun to be an agent of the new regime in the middle of a large-scale and not wholly welcomed transition.

There are three strikes against me: 1.  I recently moved to a new state. 2.  I am unemployed and therefore have more “free time.” 3. I hold the reigning title of  “Household Member Who is Most Badass when on the Phone with Strangers.”  Thus, when a pile of billing, address, and insurance errors from two states and five companies accrues, c’est moi who gets to rack up the cell phone minutes.  I don’t mind really. Dr. G gamely volunteers from time to time, but then I stand in his line of sight and pantomime what he should be saying. He shuts the door on me when I start to enact hammering stakes into vampire hearts or to sob over an imaginary open grave, rending my clothes.  It’s best for everyone, and my wardrobe, if I just do it myself and leave the vampires out of it.

None of this should really be so difficult.  The week before we moved, we called all the utilities and services in our old location to give a cancellation date and a forwarding address.  Then we called all the utilities and services in our new place and gave a start date and our new address.  If I had followed my own rules at the time it probably would have worked out better and this little five-company pile would not exist.  But after 2.5 hours on “the horn” as some people call it, definite progress has been made.  I won’t announce resolution, of course, until I see everything in writing, but it was a good morning’s work all in all.
1. Always call during weekday business hours.  These are the hours that the most competent people work.  Call centers don’t usually reward people with decent pay so they reward the best folks with the cushiest schedules. These are also the hours when supervisors and managers work.

2. Def-con 1-3.  Add tactical levels to your game. I start with “pleasant but puzzled.”  Then I go to “woe is me.” It is only fair for the people to know what effect the error is going to have on my life.  “Please!  I will have to sell my pet monkey if this charge is not reversed! Mon Chi-Chi is my protector and only friend!”  Def-Con 3 is full on Teacher Voice. It begins with firmly asking questions such as, “What can you do right now, during this call, to resolve the situation? Please suggest a few options.”  I use the same tone as I do when telling children:  “You have a choice.  Would you rather sit silently facing the wall for two hours, or spend the afternoon picking fleas and lice off of the dog?”
3. Never allow anyone to make changes to your account or information until you have both agreed on a plan of action.  If you hear typing, ask them to stop. They are probably overwriting the record of your previous interaction, or adding weird things. “I do not want creamsicles delivered to my door, with the first month free.  Do not add that service to my bill.”

4.  On the other hand, insist that they take notes.  “Please make a record of this call.  Include the time, date and purpose of call.  Include both of our names.”  Once someone told me there was nowhere to record such information.  “How about the notes section?” I suggested.  “Oh, that’s for supervisors.” “I guess I’d better talk to a supervisor, then.”

5. Take names, numbers, and notes.  I try to use a really swift pen so I can write with a proud, fiery flourish.  I get confirmation numbers and have people verify, at least twice, everything that has been decided.  Right now I only have a black pen but I feel most effective with magenta or maroon.   I also save my itemized cell phone bills so I can prove that I called.

6.  Refuse to get off the phone until the problem is resolved.   It is unfortunate that you have to take up people’s time to repair the mistakes others have made, but that is, in fact, what they are paid to do.  Today I made it up to a third-level supervisor with this strategy, my highest reach into the echelons yet! I’m more used to fake transfers, aka hang-ups, in which case I call back and start over.Never fall for the “pay it now, then you can fix it later” trick. Once they actually have ill-gotten your money it is very hard to well-get it back.
7.  De-escalate for each new person.  When you get transferred, go back to Def-con 1.  Supervisors appreciate this because most people are enflamed with rage by the time they reach a supervisor. It’s not directly the supervisor’s fault that his or her employee couldn’t find the “Notes” section or suffers from a total lack of problem-solving imagination.

8.  Ask for a timeline and a direct number.  Once a resolution has been reached, repeat it back. Have the other person repeat it back to you.  “You have agreed to update my address and credit my account a total of x dollars.  I have agreed to stop my copious weeping and to send you an envelope of downy feathers for your office quilting project. When will I see the corrected account statement?  And may I get your direct line, so I can call you back if there’s a problem?”

9.  Thank the person for their time and helpfulness, and wish them a delicious and nutritious lunch.

I’m getting a lot of reading done.

When the internet gets stale I like to pretend I’m old-school Cajun. To aid in my fantasy, I rely on Talk about Good: Le Livre de la Cuisine de Lafayette, a cookbook that Dr. G picked up at a garage sale back in the early days, in an edition that looks to be from the 70’s. He found a recipe in there that he liked so much, he copied it down and took it with him to Peace Corps, and it has followed us to every place we’ve lived. It’s called Plantation Cake, and it’s essentially a thick pool of dark molasses with sweetened biscuit dough floating on the top. I hate it. But of course on the days when I’m Cajun I re-read the recipe with relish. Even more fun is spot-checking a page for something interesting.

For example, the Poultry and Game section has recipes for “Doves in a Pot” and “Squirrel Sauce Piquante,” whose first listed ingredient is “17 squirrels, marinated.” The names of the contributors are interesting, too. We’ve got Mrs. Haskell Walker, Brigadier General Carl J. Dueser, Mrs. Walter B. Comeaux, Jr. The women kept their first names hidden and the men announce their credentials.

Then there’s the sheer metaphoric power of some of the recipe names. Cookies called “Mothballs” and “Oreilles de Cochon.” “Cloud-Top Cherry Pie.” “Sand Tarts.” “Feud Cake.” I’m a particular fan of “Tipsy Pudding,” which calls for two jiggers of hard liquor.
The texts of the recipes are sometimes puzzling and sometimes exquisitely satisfying. There are six recipes for the mundanely titled pecan pie (I, II, III, IV, peach-pecan, pecan-cream). “Prism Cake” is not cake at all, but a variety of jello flavors on a graham cracker crust. There is a note at the bottom of the recipe for Traditional Lebkuchen: “Cover tightly and store from 1 to 2 weeks to MELLOW. Excellent Holiday Cookie. Can be Baked one month ahead.” In the Mardi Gras mixed drink section, “Bowle a la Kumpa (A Festive German Wine Punch)” “Serves 4 lusty drinkers, or 8 bon vivants, or 16 ‘party drinkers.‘” Mrs. Charles Sanders calls her shrimp dip recipe “Courting Dip” because “This recipe was given to me during our courtship. It has proved to be a real favorite all these years.”

A dip titled “For Men Only” reminds us, “Don’t let the name fool you; women like this too!” And Mrs. William E. Wallace advises how to make a good roux: “Never make it too brown, because it must continue browning as other ingredients are added. The secret of good cooking lies in following implicitly the gradual introduction of the component parts in the order specified. There is an easier way!!!”

So excuse me, mes cheris, but I have to go read all about aspic.

At the liberal arts school where I got my BA, they had two versions of their required science courses: the regular kind, for future majors, and the dumbed-down kind, which could be recognized by their titles: “Chemistry for Poets,” “Biology for Poets,” and so on. Perhaps a more apt, and less insulting name, would have been “Chemistry for Dabblers.” I number myself among the dabblers: hungry for good stories but often impatient with the methodical detail that good science requires. Once again, hooray for the World Wide Web!

Science Blogs — a daily round up of science commentary that can be searched by author or topic. The big news today is that they’ve discovered evidence of dark matter.

A few things I found: my favorite science writer, Carl Zimmer, talks about parasitic cancers that perpetuate themselves through centuries. And here he talks about suicidal slime molds.

A neuroscience student explains the techniques for inducing depression in mice, and then trying to treat it.

And this comes from nerdygirl: the strongest jaws in the world belong to an ant. It can use them to strike prey faster than any living thing, or fling itself high in the air to escape danger. With video to prove it!

I had my first official job interview today, and as I sat down to type this, I got an email inviting me back for the 2nd and final round. They want to get the position filled by the end of the month. It wasn’t my best interview ever. I left the house late, sped on the freeway, and arrived almost five minutes late. At one point I was asked about my career goals and came up blank, since as a matter of fact I’m pretty fuzzy on that whole area at the moment. My main career goal is to write a book of poems but that doesn’t really fit in with what I want to do to make money. On the other hand, I told a lot of stories and made a lot of funnies (though the only one both interviewers laughed at was really lame: “otherwise I’d just go and write ad copy for The Gap”) and maintained eye contact and smelled faintly of lavendar and had a firm, non-clammy handshake (an achievement in itself, given my perpetually cold fingers).

We haven’t talked about salary at all, yet. I’m trying to steer clear of not-for-profit in order to get back to the salary level I had before I went to grad school to write poems and talk about the meaning of life. When I got to the parking lot, most of the cars seemed to be late-nineties sedans, which doesn’t bode well for the whole salary question. In addition, the grounds were a lake of mud– it’s been raining as if a herd of monkeys were up there shaking water out of the clouds like nuts out of trees. (Wait, monkeys don’t travel in herds, what is it?) I wanted to take the umbrella that my last workplace so kindly gave me before I moved to the arid desert, but I couldn’t find it, having put it in storage. Fortunately there were only a few drops enlivening the mud puddle as i skirted the edge, looking for the front door.

The building itself was concrete block painted white, and the interview took place in an unused office where the white paint was starting to look a little dingy. The furniture was a little banged up and the carpet was industrial dark gray and in need of a shampoo. Dirty windows, too. The interviewers were quite nice, about my age and articulate and interesting. They made me pick my own chair– was it a test? I took the in-between one, neither the highest nor the lowest. At the end I got to ask my own questions, and that’s when things got a little strange. It seemed to me that these two were trying to put a little spin on their answers, to make the place sound appealing to me. I think that people managing a department or business should be proud of how it works, since they are the ones who make it that way. No place is perfect, but straightforwardness in an interview situation can really help both parties find the best match. If a place is, say, firmly heirarchical, it should be unapologetically so; that way if the potential employee is, say, someone who works best in a more collaborative setting, it’s best for everyone to know that up front.
One thing I really wanted a straight answer on was the culture of the place. When I filled out the application I had to declare myself a practicing Christian and put the name, address, and pastor of my church. This had me worried. I am, in fact, a practicing Christian and am quite open about it. But I’m probably not willing to sign my allegiance to a list of forty iron-clad doctrinal statements, or agree to never wear open-toed shoes or promise to never sit with a person of the opposite sex at lunch. I’d be excited to work in a place where Christian integrity and graciousness inform the way business is conducted; I’d feel suffocated in a place where rules circumscribe the growth of my faith or the minutae of my daily activities. So, I asked: “The Christian roots and mission of this organization seem quite important. How would you say that mission influences the workplace?”

This question had them totally flummoxed. There was silence as they tried to use eyebrows to hand the question off to each other. One person talked around it for quite some time and ultimately seemed to say that the Christian support network is there for those who choose to participate, but not necessarily a day-to-day part of existence. “Wouldn’t you agree?” he asked his fellow interviewer. She gave him this huge grin, meaning either “I think you pulled all of that out of your butt” or “I can’t believe you put me on the spot with this hard question”– I’m not sure which. Then she added that the Christianity mostly came into play on a daily basis in terms of ethics. So, I guess it’s not very rulesy there. But that grin! Whatever did it mean?

I guess I can’t ask that in round two, can I? One other possible flag– three out of six people quit this summer. HM! That’s 50%. HM!

… as described in an online job listing.

• Works in a manner that is not disruptive to peers, supervisors and/or subordinates.
• Must maintain regular and acceptable attendance at such level as is determined in the employer’s sole discretion.
  
• Advanced interpersonal, communication, and problem-solving skills, maturity, and good judgment are required.

Rats!  I guess I better stick with the listings that say “frequent disruptions, immaturity, poor judgment, and spotty attendance ok.”   Wait, there aren’t any of those.

You Are Elektra

There’s really no superhero with more style than you. Because who could beat being sexy assasin ninja?

Mon 14 Aug 2006

Fri 11 Aug 2006

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