Wanted: Brand Consultant

In the ongoing efforts to change my life, I’ve been reading up on branding, non-traditional marketing solutions, and Attention.

Recent comments made to me off-blog by several male personages have suggested that my complaints are related in one way or another to the oft-fraught and controversial issue of self-presentation - i.e. “maybe it’s a packaging issue” (exact words). As should be clear by now, Lisa H. always chooses to represent, and not to front. As is evident by the feedback I've received, however, it is worth considering the possibility that I may not be “representing” to my best advantage. Any thoughts or suggestions on this matter are welcome.

On the subject of padded bras: :
ME: “I feel uncomfortable with the idea that at some point someone will discover they’re not real.”
EGIT: “So it’s a matter of false advertising?”
ME: "Yes."
EGIT: “Haven’t you ever ordered something online that turned out to be something different that what you expected? Most people just decide to settle for what they get because it’s too much trouble to return it.”
ME: “I feel uncomfortable with your entire line of reasoning.”

NB – There is a certifiable difference between “lightly lined” and “padded.”

On the subject of jobs:
ME: “The problem isn’t my skills or qualifications; [unnamed contact] says in order to get hired, I have to convince people that I actually want a long-term career in [your field].”
EGIT: “So in other words, he is asking you to learn how to lie.”
ME: “I’m a terrible liar. That is, unless I’m lying to myself.”

NB – To prospective employers – I am willing to want most desperately a career in your field as long as such employment will allow me to exercise my highly specialized niche skills and still be considered "qualified" (without destroying my soul), and pay my living expenses. Also, please don’t ask me what I plan to do about my dissertation: that's private.

On the subject of sex, love, and physical attraction: :
ME: (Reading the July 2005 issue of Esquire’s interview with Billy Bob Thornton that another close colleague saw fit to include in a snail mail communiqué):
BILLY BOB: “Sex doesn’t have to be with a model to be good. As a matter of fact, sometimes with the model, the actress, the ‘sexiest person in the world,’ it may be literally like fucking the couch. Don’t count out the average-looking woman, or even maybe the slightly unattractive woman, or the really unattractive woman. There may be this swarthy little five-foot-two stocky woman why just has sex all over her.” (This excerpt was, thoughtfully, both circled and underlined by my colleague.)
ME: (to colleague, via telephone): “What are you saying, exactly?”
KURT: “I’m just saying there’s hope for you, that’s all”
ME: (Silently) Fuck you.

NB – In an effort to raise my brand-awareness potential by nearly two inches, I bought a pair of red ho boots about four years ago. While I received many compliments from womens, I can’t recall any comments from the mens. Also, they made my feet hurt. I sold them on eBay to a “boot and shoe enthusiast” for a reasonable sum.

I recently re-worked my resume with a friend who is also a marketing and product development specialist (he only agreed to help me if I ceased the daily email barrage of unsolicited psychoanalytic musings on his lifestyle choices, and fart jokes). Fart jokes or no, I am quite satisfied with the revision, which – although multipurpose in nature - helped me reformulate my self-concept and personal brand-awareness in some not unimportant ways. On my first “informational interview” with document in hand, however, I was told that anyone who looked at my resume would think I was gunning for a scrivener’s job in a dead letter office.

My research has suggested that blogging, social software, and tagging are now the most effective means of producing, gaining, and consuming Attention, and therefore, of facilitating (potentially) life-changing developments. Of course, this narrow definition of blogging (perpetuated by elitist A-listers) presupposes that one is willing to document her thoughts, feelings, and responses to the thousands of happenings, incidents, personal experiences and minute neurological sensations occurring every day in the on- and off-blog worlds. I find it quite interesting that, although the trivial meanderings of “ordinary people” and their motivation to broadcast them is what ostensibly produced the democratic information revolution that is the blogging phenomenon, the blogosphere is in fact (in true American democratic tradition) an ad-hoc oligarchy of the Attention-rich and famous, or of those who have anything to say on matters that produce the Attention of the Attention-rich and famous. Second of all, since my blog was originally created by way of a terrible misunderstanding, it has always been about reducing undesirable Attention while appealing for ever more and better Attention to the people who already know me, thereby capitalizing on my base without the risks inherent in over-diversification. (And since nobody else ever comments anyway, the point is effectively moot.) Thirdly, in light of my generally anti-blog sentiments, I can’t believe how often I have used the term “blogosphere,” and how easily it has transformed in these pages from a word overburdened with ironic associations to a meme* of a semi-serious nature. Fourth of all, where does everyone find the time to peruse every blog-of-note, newspapers (electronic editions), Slashdot, bOing bOing, as well as comment and post? Every day, people! It’s taken me nearly 90 minutes and a frozen tamale to write this, not counting the PowerPoint graph, and all of the links and font embellishments I had to code.
Wait – do frozen tamales compromise my positive brand Attention potential?

*in the off-blog sense


blogs
Attention
work
love
my life
tamales

What you do when it all falls apart (and it will)

After two and a half years, my search for full-time employment is finally grinding to a halt. Friends, acquaintances, and curious barflies have often asked me “so what happens if you don’t find a job?” My answer has consistently been “Well, since my savings will be gone by October (which serendipitously coincides with my bi-yearly lease-renewal/significant rent hike), I will be, as they say in the business, f*#ked. I have been saying the same thing for the last year now, and yet people keep asking me this question. What gives?

So far, my attempts at gold-digging have failed miserably, as have less traditional methods such as “networking,” replying to job postings, and a lengthy critical analysis of What Color Is Your Parachute? (Note: does not make good “bathroom reading.”)

However, recent consultation with my mother yielded hope in the form of the Davis Enterprise Classifieds, the highlights of which were read to me over the telephone (with some relish, I might add). If I decide to throw in the towel, cash in my few remaining chips, and admit that my entire adult life thus far has been an exercise in utter futility, well, there’s still the sofa back home - beckoning, beckoning.

Here are some career choices I hadn’t before considered. I'm grateful to my mother for opening my eyes to the diverse possibilities that still await me (at least, those few for which I am remotely qualified). Thanks, mom.

******************************************************************

• *Jiffy Lube in Davis* is Now Hiring Entry level technicians, service writers and assistant managers. Starting wages $8-10/hr. Must provide valid Driver’s license and Social Security Card.
Do you want to be a Lube Technician, or just look like one? Do you have to ask?


• DENNY’S DIXON Hiring Manager. Call Trewn.
Ahh … who doesn't love Denny's trademarked series of "Slam" Breakfasts? (Although Moons Over My Hammy® is a close second.)


• PPPPPPP ALL STAR RENTS Like to Party? Equipment & Party Rental Co. seeking P/T team member for entry level position to assist event/ party coordinator with rental preparation. Must have clean driving record. No exp. req’d, will train. Drug free environment. Apply at : 2020 F St. Davis.
Why wouldn't it be a drug-free environment? And what's with all the P's?


• Rice paddy Inventory Manager A rice drying facility located in Colusa County along the I-5 corridor is seeking an enthusiastic & motivated individual for the full time position of rice paddy inventory manager. Experience with grain inventory software packages is a plus.
Not exactly my skill set, but I’m a quick study - especially when it comes to rice.


• Cake decorator, no experience necessary. PT/ FT. 7a.m.- 3p.m. Wage DOE. Medical, dental, paid vacation for FT.
What’s not to love? - great benefits, and all the frosting you can eat!


• Fun, fast pace sports environment looking for Part-time to Full-time front office help. Individual must be organized and available weekends.
One question: What’s a “sports environment?"


• Gymnastics Birthday Party Leader. Must be enthusiastic and enjoy working with children. Experience in gymnastics is preferred, but not necessary. Leaders must be available every other weekend. $7.81- $9.49/ hour.
Experience in gymnastics is preferred, but not necessary. That’s all I need to know.


• Office Assistant, PT. Computer and phone skills, familiarity with Ebay. Willing to work hard. University student, some retail experience.
I HAVE TONS OF EBAY EXPERIENCE (as is evident from my extensive collections of Chinese 78’s and Farmall home accessories)


• Square Dancing - Get ready for the Fall Hoe-Downs.
OK, so it’s not a job, but it is one more reason to move back home!

Please Support Gene Therapy

This just in from BBC News:

Groundbreaking genetic research give hope to the moody, irritable, and dejected; prompts re-evaluation of evolutionary theory by international team of leading women scientists


You've got the look I want to know better

Genes could explain why women are more prone to stress-related anxiety and mood disorders.
US researchers have pinpointed a variation in a gene which controls regulation of a key brain chemical linked to mood.
Their work, on monkeys, suggests people with this variant may be more likely to react badly to negative experiences.

Am I to infer, then, that women are more closely related to monkeys than men? While this would certainly explain a good deal of my 'personal issues', I think most women will agree with me that it's the mens who are more likely (and more interested in) throwing their feces at gawkers, hangers-on, and hapless passersby. (No offence, mens, but you know it's true.)

Scientists shed new light on the annoying, vindicate the shy; 'highly sociable' people now considered abnormal


Ooh, my amygdala!

Scientists have uncovered clues about what happens in the brain to make some people "over-friendly." US National Institute of Mental Health experts looked at differences in the brains of people with an abnormality which makes them highly sociable.

Researchers used scans to identify areas which failed to work properly when they saw frightening faces.
This condition, once considered unusual, actually affects around four of every 25 people. The US team focused on the amygdala, an almond-shaped structure deep in the brain which has been thought to help regulate social behaviour. The adjacent cashew-shaped structure, however, remains a mystery - although some scientist have conjectured it is a vestigial third eye.

MRI scans were used to study the brains of 13 healthy volunteers and 13 volunteers identified as unhealthy through strictly determined criteria - such as a propensity for brightly-colored tracksuits, overzealous handshaking, and/or bringing muffin baskets to the orientation meeting.

All were shown pictures of angry or scary faces and, just for the hell of it, a "wild-card' face: Jessica Simpson, Britney Spears, Bono, or David Blaine.

In healthy brains, seeing such images would provoke an understandably disturbed response in the amygdala, characterized by intense quivering. Common verbal outbursts indicating such reponses have included: "Jesus H. Christ!" "Fuckin' A.!" or, in the especially healthy, "eeek! get it away from me please!" However, the MRI scans showed far less activity in those of people with faulty amygdalas, who frequently chided research assistants to "bring it on," or made suggestive remarks concerning David Blaine's "block of ice" feat.

Study participants were then shown pictures of threatening scenes, such as plane crashes or Michael Jackson with his pet llama, which did not have any people or faces in them. In the subjects deemed "sick puppies," the amygdala response was seen to be abnormally decreased, yet often prompted uncontrollable chuckling, sardonic rolling-of-eyes, or requests for more Budweiser.

I think no commentary is necessary; everyone knows where I stand on the issues of Jessica Simpson, plane crashes, and over-friendliness, and I know you agree with me, or you wouldn't be locked in your room reading this.

It never falls far from the tree

So, apparently there is a morose gene, and a prediliction for myopic navel-gazing is an inherited trait. Who knew?

I don't remember this being covered in those 9th grade fruitfly experiments.

12/6/62, 3:10 am
I am keeping this journal as a record of my ideas, observations, and revelations pertaining to my life at the University of Pittsburgh.

11/7/88
This is my new journal.
I will try to purify my space and get the real feelings out.

1/6/63
I am depressed for the first time in many months. I have my health, but my mind is tired. In this world of beauty torn between evil, destruction, human misery, social prejudice, I have reached the time in my life where I must decide on a purpose. But what is the use: We’re born, we live, and we die and there’s nothing.

11/21/88
I ask so many questions that baffle me – that make the world so complicated and incredible and unfathomable. But then I get discouraged sometimes – I’ll never be worthy of its complexity, shifting depths, etc. Not only refusing to see I am a part of that “complexity,” but that I can answer those questions myself.

1/15/64
[still very naïve]
- Becoming more agnostic.
- Adopting many principles of Existentialism.
- Have become very pessimistic.
- Fear of death is growing.
- Live by my conscience – trouble is to find out what my conscience wants.

3/12/90
- Call Mom
- More cat litter (clumping)
- Go to gym
- Tibetan Book of the Dead (Protection from Fear bardo prayer)
- Copy Tracy Chapman record for spring break trip

The not-so-secret history: 1990

I have no idea what prompted me to take down the stack of diaries I used to keep on and off from ages 13-24 - back when writing down my thoughts and observations in private apparently seemed like a meaningful and worthwhile activity.

Naturally, my first response to any of these most ineloquent (or worse: self-consciously eloquent) musings is a long bout of involuntary cringeing, followed by acute shame and, of course, a relapse of chronic cynicism. But there was a reason I kept diaries: they were not just an effective pressure valve for my spiritual miasma, but the product of an uncanny and proleptic certainty that, one day, they would prove useful.

That day is here, maybe.

As I continue to age, I find it frustrating that I can't recall what are obviously unmemorable but undoubtedly vivid details of my earlier, funnier, happier life experiences. And without a modestly legible record, how would I know what I did after work on July 20, 1990? (while living in San Francisco with a very good friend):

Yesterday - cemetery closed
bought flowers anyway
went to beach
called Steve
Irish coffee
Camera Obscura reserved privately
sunset
another Chinese food
dreams about phallus

Or, what I was thinking about on August 8, 1990? (while driving across the country):

Through Nashville today, Bush sent troops to Persian Gulf. ... For some reason, I always feel so self-conscious eating alone in fast-food restaurants. There was a sensitive fat kid at Arby's complaining about sweeping the carpet, lamenting over the Persian Gulf-Iraq crisis; he knows all about it: "I'll grab a gun and head for the hills. I'm 18," and, to another co-worker, "You forgot - I'm a geek. I don't go anywhere." But he'd rather be doing almost anything else than sweeping the carpet, I'm sure.

Or how confused I was about life, the power of inscrutable abstraction, and all I thought these promised back on October 12, 1990? (while still an idealistic college student):

Today I have been considering my future. Not just acknowledging it, or trying to invoke it, as usual, but I have really understood today that it is going to happen, and I'd better be ready for it when it does. ... When the future indicates itself in very real ways, I feel both electrified and embarrassed. There is something about being face to face with what you know will happen, or at least some sign of it, that forces you to decide who you are, to stand up for that decision, to face people as "who you are." That is embarrassing, that closeness, the intimacy of that assertion. ... There is no such thing as failure or error at that point. There are just facts, of which you are evidence somehow. It is terrifying to be right, to be "the facts." Failure is so demoralizing and so comfortable, and so much easier.

And without this cryptic, undated entry, how else would I be reminded that even at a tender age, I clearly understood the fundamentals of my survival?:

Send pills
3rd class
parcel post
by tues.

Birthday: reconsidered, rehashed, and regurgitated

June 29 1982: Spazzed to the max

Yesterday was my 13th birthday. My mom made chicken cordon bleu for dinner and we had cake for dessert. She gave me a whole bunch of Garfield stuff. Today we are making a cake.* I’m having my birthday party on Thursday. I hope K.C. can come .I really like the Bumblebee. He hasn’t called me back. I hope he got the invitation. I’m too embarrassed to call him. I like him! Janice’s mom is going to decorate my birthday cake. My cat is spazzed out to the max right now.

*for my party

July 28, 1982: Cheap shorts

Hello! Today I bought a nice pair of shorts for $14. I have been swimming 30 laps a day for the last two days. I want to continue and lose weight from my starch addiction. I got a new swimsuit. It’s real nice. Tomorrow I’m going to my gramma and grampa’s. I’m so fat!


June 23 1986: Art school dropout

This first day has been fun, but demanding. I slept awfully last night and I was kind of sick. But I met some nice people and the guys who put in our light bulbs are pretty cute. My drawing class is very exciting. I found it hard to believe how exhausted I could get sitting for three hours. I really like my instructor. He said we should keep journals. I’m feeling like I will learn and grow much from this class, and from the whole experience. But the graphic art instructor is really cute – young also. I kinda wish I was in his class…It’s weird – it feels like I’m already 17 because of my early party. But next week it’s real. I miss my cat. And mom.

July 1, 1986: "Not just for pain relief"
Last night I o.d.’d on extra strength Pamprin. I took three, actually, but the first two made me fall asleep in Ed’s room to Berlin (ugh) on volume 10. The third made me feel really great, though.


June 28, 1993: The more things change, the more they stay the same

This morning I cleaned the apartment and then went out to a birthday lunch with Jim. He said he wants to move back to New Zealand, eventually. It’s warm today, partly cloudy. I wore my new flowered dress – without underwear. Of course, I told Jim when we sat down… I am lonely and I wish that more of my friends were around me, but so far I’ve had a nice birthday. I hope I find a good job soon. I hope I can start writing again, soon.