Insight from Marc Maron

An underground comedian, Marc Maron, very often completely illustrates my life through his comedy and podcast (WTF with Marc Maron). As I explore the unemployment world again, trying to find a place to pay me to write things... I heard this in the car.

And all I can say is... absolutely.


“I guess you can call me bitter, I don’t know if I would call it that. Perhaps, disappointed sometimes? Perhaps my sense of entitlement is not completely reasonable. Maybe I don’t have a clear idea of who I am and how I fit in with the big picture. I do know that I’ve been doing this for a long time with a very specific voice that I can’t seem to shake… Maybe I’m just one of those people, like a pop band that never really pops, but somehow or another gets some respect in the long run. Maybe I’m just the kind of guy that isn’t going to be famous until I’m dead.

The issue is that I find myself, even given my sensibility and given the fact that I’ve chosen a rough road to hoe, I seek opportunity and I like to be patronized. I like to work for someone that’s going to write me a check.

But, now I’m out in the wilderness again. So, what the fuck is going on with my career? Why can’t I just fit in somewhere? Why can’t I find my niche? And in these dark times in between gigs when I’m not doing what I need to do to put my brand out there because of my fundamental insecurity which is a plague of anybody that is talented—people who are really successful and are capable of selling themselves are usually mediocre. That’s just the truth, because if they have that confidence, they must be lacking in talent. Or else, they’re using all their talent to do that so whatever the product is, they’re just able to shove it into your head so you just jump on board. Or maybe it’s just safe and that’s what people like. That has not been my experience.

So now in one of these dark times, these grey areas when I don’t know what’s going to happen next and I’m just doing what I can to get things going… I’m taking meetings. For me, everything is a life or death situation. My ideas are usually organic, they relate to my life, and when they get rejected all I hear is, “ You stink. You’re not good enough. Thank you for telling your story, you sad Bastard. Good luck with everything. Be in touch. Oh yeah! You’re a genius. Keep doing what you’re doing out there, for whoever you do it for. But, we can’t let you in here because there’s no way we can sell your shit.” Okay. Maybe I’m making stuff up.”

–Marc Maron

I got fired today.

Guess it's good no one bought the domain name.

proposal poems.

I guess entering the corporate world doesn't make you business-minded. I don't seem to fit too well. Proposals sent to the Department of Defense end with my poems lazily penned in the margins.



a poem for lovers in cubicles

this evolutionarily stunted corporate ladder
has lost all signs of life.

potted plants and framed photographs
are the penguins behind the glass;
the giraffes, in search of better leaves,
ignoring your camera flash

coffee beans and blackberries
photosynthesize the souls
who don't remember
the blinding light
of an autumn afternoon.




like foxes and oak trees

could I run away
just take a day
a moment of your time
to break
to fly
to run free
from faux-wood desks
from air conditioning
form deadlines and phone calls.

I want to sing waist deep
in the water
I want to be your wild thing barefoot
in the dirt
I want to make love to you
out in the open
out in the air

could I get away
for the rest of our days
to grow old like foxes
or like oak trees

I got a job.

Well, I suppose that this is where the blog stops.

I'm employed. I've started as a full time technical writer at a small technology firm. I have my own desk, my own phone, my own computer, my own health insurance, dental insurance, 401K, and stock options. They're making me business cards.

But now, I'm not sure about how to define myself anymore. Unemployed writer with a blog is actually a way more fun description than full time technical writer.

*shrug*

I guess I can't tell you to keep reading this time. Anyone want to buy the url from me? $20 or best offer.

The most honest interview I ever had.

Do you ever wish people just said what they meant on dates?

“Hi. I like the way your breasts look in that dress.”

“Thank you. I only plan to sleep with you if you spend more than $50 on this dinner.”

“Are you willing to make the night worth $50?”

“Yes. I did adult films to get through graduate school.”

“Okay, awesome. Well, just so you know, you’re not spending the whole night.”

“Good. I have a date for brunch tomorrow with a someone cuter anyway.”

It would make life so much easier. These games of interpersonal play are so futile. “Hi, can I buy you a drink?” Doesn’t that really mean, “I think you are pretty and I’d like to kiss you when we’re both drunk enough to think that’s a good idea.” Why don’t you just say that?

Well, I recently went on an interview when we did just say that. Interviews are all about lies anyway, aren’t they? No one actually says their true weaknesses and when interviewers ask, “We need someone permanent, someone who isn’t going to leave when they get a better offer,” I think even SHE knows it’s a bold faced lie when you say you won’t. Would they want someone working for their company that was so un ambitious so as to turn down a better offer anyway?

I arrived for my interview to fill a part time copyediting and writing job fifteen minutes early. I sat at a worktable in the middle of the room while I listened to the CEO scream and rant about a client that was, as she put it, “fucking with us.” When she walked out to interview me she looked frazzled, angry, annoyed… but smiling. She took me back to her office and said, “So.. uh.. tell me what you.. um… Just tell me. I don’t have a copy of your resume.” I told her I had brought a copy and gave it to her and then went on to tell her about my extensive writing experience.

“Hazel, it’s August. You graduated in May and that’s where your resume stops… what have you been doing?”

“Um… waitressing and looking for writing work.”

“Nothing, yet?”

“Nope… not yet. I’ve applied to over 250 open positions.”

“That’s insane. Your credentials and experience are out of this world. This economy sucks. But, believe it or not I know how you feel.”

“Were you unemployed for awhile or…?”

“I used to have twice as many employees, my business was booming. Now I think we might be going under. I’m about to lose my goddamn life. But, I can tell you that you’re too good for this position and it won’t make you happy.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s proof reading, it’s temporary, it’s bullshit. You need something better.”

“Well. Um. I need a job and this certainly seems to fit the bill. I think I could get a lot of great experience here and…”

“Oh, stop it with the interview crap. I hate it. Besides, the other applicants have more proofreading experience than you.”

“But, my writing experience allows me to really understand how a work goes together and how it can improve. Plus, being new means I don’t have any bad habits and I…”

“Please don’t. I told you to stop with all the interview answers bullshit.”

“I’m broke. I’m living with my boyfriend’s parents. You have to employ me or I think I’m going to tear my hair out. I will vacuum your carpets and get you coffee, if you plan to give me a paycheck for it. Right now I’m working at a restaurant and treated like I’m in high school… I’ll do anything to get out of it.”

“Thank you.”



I started two days later. It’s part time and I may have been asked to stuff 300 folders the other day. But, she is giving me a paycheck. And maybe, sometimes, we should just be honest in our interviews.

You’re a Coffee Shop, not an Alaskan Malamute (google it, it's a dog)

I know, it’s been awhile. That last depressing post was no joke. But, after a few days in tears, denial, anger and generally making the boyfriend think I’ve gone off the deep end… I’m back in action. Why? Because I’m almost positive I just lost the absolute dream career today. And, I deal with utter heartbreaking debilitating disappointment by making other people laugh through my defeated negativity. I have a disease.




I recently had an interview at a family owned coffee shop. The irony and cliché was just too much for me to turn away. An unemployed writer keeping a blog and making lattes? What is this, a bad movie? In my email response to the craigslist ad, I even talked about the poems I had written and had published ABOUT coffee. Like I wouldn’t get called for an interview!

The good news? I got a free cup of coffee out of the deal. Let’s focus on that for a moment. Free Coffee.

The bad news? Coffee shop little dog syndrome. Have you ever seen those little (what my mother’s boyfriend calls) rat-on-a-rope dogs barking up a storm to large labs and retrievers? They think they’re so much bigger and more intimidating than they actually are. This coffee shop apparently thought that its baristas needed the dedication and tenacity of high-powered CEO’s.

I find that my feelings on what people say to me best described by the italic-text-is-what-is-actually-happening-in-my-head style dialogue. Already used it several times in this blog? Yes. Probably breaking some type of overly repetitive stylistic rule? Most likely. Do I have a boss to tell me to do otherwise? NO, I’m unemployed.

Let me set the scene: Plump and friendly momish woman in her 30’s wearing a hat with the coffee shop logo and a tee shirt. Looks like she would bake you a pie for your birthday. I like her immediately. It’s her shop. She makes cheesecakes to sell along with her coffees. I’m wearing my grandmother’s blue school-dress and smiling at the working barista as I realize he’s wearing jeans to work. Nice.

“I’m surprised you made it out here! We were afraid you’d get halfway here and realize the commute would be too much, then just turn around!”

Do you have any idea where I am temporarily living until I can afford to move? I’m on a dirt road. Unless I want to work at Sheetz, there will be a 45 minute commute. No matter what. I’ve actually heard this commute rant at almost every interview. Are you also going to turn me away because I have to drive awhile? I can just go now. Thanks for the coffee.
“Yeah, unfortunately it’s one of those dependent problems. I’m having trouble finding a job because I live so far out, but I can’t move closer until I have a job to fund it!”

“I understand. It looks like you’ve done a lot! You’re so accomplished, I’m impressed.”

“Thanks.” I should have ordered a latte. I didn’t realize when I was ordering I wasn’t going to have to pay for it. Damnit.

“So, tell me a little bit about yourself.”

“Well, I just moved here for my boyfriend’s job. [insert knowing, judgmental nod and stare immediately labeling me a non-independent, blindly following, unmotivated and naïve woman. Why don’t I go follow MY dreams, right? Shut up.] I’m having trouble finding full time employment in writing. Right now I’m working at a restaurant in the evenings and really enjoying the constant interaction with people. No, you can’t have a booth. Why are you so needy? I know the ad said you were looking for a morning person, so I think this would be perfect.”

“Yes, well, the shift is 6 am to 2 pm… so it’s pretty early!”

“I’m a morning person.” I barely got my ass out of bed for this 10am interview. I’d be drooling right now if it weren’t for this free coffee.

“So, what kind of writing do you do?”

[meandering conversation about my writing interests and experience. Cleverly, but sadly, leaving this blog out as I want to write about this interview]

“Wow, that’s great! Well, we’re looking for someone pretty permanent. If you were offered a full time job in writing, would you consider still working with us on the weekends?”

Someone permanent? You JUST told me you were hiring because some of your baristas were going back to college. Are they permanent? Is anyone working at a coffee shop not talking about what they “really” want to do? You’ll be on Broadway soon, Johnny! I can’t believe you just said you were looking for permanent people. You’ve read my resume, does anything about the last five writing positions I’ve had say anything about how I secretly want to be in food service for the rest of my life?
“Absolutely.”

“Great! Now, we’d need you two to three mornings a week. Are you sure that won’t be too much to handle with you working at the restaurant in the evenings?”

Are you seriously interviewing anyone for two to three mornings a week that isn’t also in school, working another job, taking care of a family, or using their trust fund to support their artistic endeavors in a rigorous and intense schedule? Who is this person? This person looking for PERMANENT work in a coffee shop with NO other obligations but to devote every ounce of energy to TWO to THREE mornings a week?
“Oh no. I’m a high-energy person used to an incredibly busy schedule. I was involved in a lot during college, I’m used to be swamped!”
Remember college stress? Oh no! A paper due, but my roommate is begging me to go to the bar? WHAT DO I DO NOW? God, I miss that. The real world sucks. Mmm, free coffee.

“Oh okay, great!”


[end of interview, pleasantries, description of job, etc]


I was offered the job a few days later. Unfortunately, or fortunately, the restaurant has started scheduling me for close to 40 hours a week. So, I guess she was right. I just can’t handle two to three mornings a week.

The Sadder Side of (F)unemployment.

Barely being able to make financial ends meet and taking constant employment rejection can be all fun and games. Indeed, there’s about a million blogs out there on the very subject. Learning to laugh at the lengths I will go to for a cheap meal or the four-year degree I’m using to fold napkins is really the only way to get through it.

Everyday the newspaper runs articles on recent graduates unable to find employment. The television is absolutely littered with the unemployment rates and the failing economy. There are a million out there, just like me-- toiling away in the constant search for what one 90’s punk song so easily phrased, “Oh, why don’t you go get a job?”

So, why does it feel so personal? It’s like a break up. Every single person has gone through the completely heart wrenching experience of ending a relationship for as many relationships that they have had. Every single person that every single person has loved has somehow managed to tear their life apart, with the exception of the person they are with right now.

Breaking up is possibly one of life’s most common experiences.
And yet, when it happens to you, it’s like no one else could possibly understand how immediately personal and unique the kind of pain you’re feeling is. I spend an exorbitant amount of time reading articles on better ways to find employment, published and printed for the masses of jobless citizens. I follow several hilarious and poignant unemployment blogs, written by the ever-so-unemployed. I try to help my boyfriend find further employment as the season causes his hours to diminish.

The whole world around me is sinking in the quicksand of the effects of underemployment. But most of the time, the hopelessness feels as lonely as a break up. The dark days after a slammed door usually send us into hiding, avoiding the outside world and all of their questions. I dodge the “So, what do you do?” inquiry like it might infect me with small pox. When distant family members ask me what I’m doing in Pittsburgh, I ask how their kids are.

My biggest secret is the same secret as almost 16% of the United States, 80% of 2009 college graduates and a constant headline. But, it still feels like no one would understand.