~~~Lara Zielin~~~

STATUS: Thankful.

FAVE LINKEY-POO RIGHT THIS SECOND: My boyfriend, Bill Clinton, “having a dream” on MLK Day.

This week has been seriously busy, but when I have thought about blogging, I’ve thought, Gee, I should write about all the crappy jobs I’ve had. I can say this because now, I have the greatest job ever. And when you’re happily employed, it makes it easier to look back on all the horrific jobs and say, “Thank cheddar, that’s the past.” (In Wisconsin, cheese is a divinity and, yes, you can thank it).

My desire to talk about my past jobs (like so many past lives) increased when I chatted with a friend this afternoon who’s not in such a great place with her job stich. All I can say is, I’ve been there. I feel your pain. And I do believe it will get better if you don’t give up seeking the exact right job fit for your life. The universe does throw bones. That I know.

In my experience, I was maybe the most job discouraged when I first moved to Michigan and couldn’t find gainful employment to save my life. This was after months of sending out job apps. I couldn’t get in the door anywhere and, out of desperation to pay the mortgage, I took a job as a barrista slinging espresso. It doesn’t sound so bad when you put it that way, but I did a lot less espresso-slinging than I did sweeping and mopping floors, cleaning toilets, and restocking napkins. It was hard, hard work. And I almost cried every time I put those stupid rubber gloves on and lifted the lid of the toilet in the men’s rest room. I thought, I’m 28, I’ve got a degree from a great college, WTF am I doing here? Eventually I found a job with a temp agency and I got a gig at UofM and the rest is history. But it was sure soul-sucking for a while there.

But worse than hard work (which isn’t so bad if that’s your only obstacle) are bosses and managers that blow, and let me say I’ve had a few in my day. My only consolation is that at some point I can base a book character off them a la DEVIL WEARS PRADA, but even still I sometimes have to take a deep breath and release the geyser of anger that erupts when I think about how totally suckalicious some of these folks were. I have to pray for them, actually, because asking God to be nice to them is the only way I can make myself stop thinking cruddy thoughts about them. Ironic much?

Recently at my current job, we had to read a book called THE NO ASSHOLE RULE. This is ironic as well because we have exactly zero assholes in our office (at least according to the book’s definition). BUT, the book did give good tips on how, if you were to encounter an asshole, either in your current job or somewhere else, you might deal with them. I recommend it highly cuz who can’t use that kind of advice? Those chocolate starfishes are everywhere, let me tell you. (And yes, I’ve been one myself, I’m sorry to say. But I hope it doesn’t happen often).

Anyway, job stuff can be hard. And of course no place of employment is perfect, but when you have to do something 40+ hours a week, it’s really difficult if you don’t like it. My heart goes out to anyone reading this who is in that situation. I have been there. Oh yes I have.

STATUS: Thrilled to death to be reading EAT, PRAY, LOVE. Best book ever.

FAVE LINKEY-POO RIGHT THIS SECOND: Columbus Day takes on new meaning in this story Rob found about Columbus and syphilis.

During our Wisconsin exodus this year, Rob and I decided to put to music our deep and enduring love for cheese. You might think cheese would be a silly thing to write a song about, but that just means you’ve never tasted aged cheddar from Held’s. Plus, we had ten hours to kill in the car and what else are you going to do?

So, without further ado, I give you a little ditty we call “Cheese Snack.” Enjoy!

Get ‘em now because they’re going fast! Huckaflee 2008 t-shirts will show people how unafraid you are to flee the U.S. if he’s elected. Click here to order.  Huckaflee, y’all.

STATUS: Primaries schrimaries.

FAVE LINKEY-POO RIGHT THIS SECOND: This short, sweet video explaining why the Hollywood writers strike is taking place.

Yesterday in my office we had a huge debate about the movie Juno. One of my colleagues really disliked the film, not because it was a bad film, but because he says everyone is making it an important film, which he argues it’s not. It’s just a sweet, ironic movie that deserves to be called good, not great — at least in his book.

I liked the film. But I think I may grow to hate it over time. That’s because Juno’s main character, a teenager named Juno, is so completely unrealistic. And yet ironic, witty, wise-beyond-their-years teens are becoming the standard in Hollywood. And in literature. I’m not sure we’re that far away from manuscripts and movies where every teen has to talk like a hipster, listen to 70s punk, and own shelves full of retro crap. Maybe those will be the only ones that sell.

Case in point: I re-read the beginning of WHERE THE RED FERN GROWS recently. Holy OMG. It’s well written but it’s soooo slow by today’s standards — especially the beginning. I don’t think a publisher would glance twice at it. Yet this book was a staple of my childhood. I loved it. Still do. It has important things to say about love, loyalty, god, faith, family, sacrifice, and more. But how do you convey stories like that nowadays unless they’re packaged in tragically hip wrapping?

I dunno. Maybe you don’t.