Job hunting in New Orleans really sucks right now

In case you haven’t gathered from my previous posts, job hunting in this city really sucks at the moment. Really. Unless you want to wait tables, work in a hotel or start a career in fast food in the suburbs, there’s not much happening. I went to talk to the guy at Trax yesterday and although messengering sounds like a fun gig… 5.50 an hour isn’t enough to pay my rent and say… eat as well.

I’m getting my buttons online, but I doubt I can make a living on that. lol I’m also going to be putting my t-shirts up again. I have a new Brakes Suck one that I just sprayed to see if I like it. I like it. It’s all bright yellow and brown and red. Yay.Brakes Suck C’mon, you know you want it.

E-mail me for details.

Other than that I’m just bummed out in general, reading about just how fucked up this city is.

Starting to wonder if my future should be held in a different city.

It’s dawning on me how much I doubt New Orleans will ever get it’s shit together. Perhaps the Saints are a metaphor for the city as a whole. So much potential, so much promised, so much loyalty… but we all know we’re still gonna be disappointed at the end of the season.

Not so great times

Anyway, I don’t like talking about troubles in on-going relationships because well, that’s just downright tacky, but for the last few weeks I’ve sensed that things weren’t right in the Vincent/Killer camp. My first tip off was, shortly after the Plan for Redevelopment came about, Killer started talking about not knowing if he wanted to stay in the city. He also mentioned that he was thinking about applying for work out of state. Can you say RED FLAG? I also started noticing that the last few times we went out he wasn’t coming in when he picked me up and then he’d just drop me off. They were late so I wrote it off as being too late to come in. Anyway, we chatted today and it turns out my suspicions were correct, he’s not wanting to date anyone right now. Yep, you guessed it: it’s not me, it’s him.

Anyhoo, no hard feelings. I still really like him and count him as a friend; it’s not like I didn’t see it coming. So yeah, single again. Ugh. Damn you Katrina.

On so many levels.

On the job front, I have a couple of interviews tomorrow. Someplace called the The Lionheart Group replied to my resume witha form letter saying, and I quote:

We have reviewed your resume and feel we may have an interest in scheduling you for an interview. Please take a moment to answer a brief questionnaire that will further assist us in determining if a preliminary match exists between your qualifications and career objectives and our corporate goals.

Interviews will be conducted in Metairie on Monday of next week. To be clear, this position does NOT require a daily commute to Metairie or to our office.

Click below for our online compatibility questionnaire:

The Lionheart Group, Inc. is uniquely positioned to attract, develop and retain preeminent field and management talent in an emerging industry characterized by high-growth and minimal competition. We specialize in providing business owners and employee groups of all sizes with the finest and most innovative access plans and employee benefits available.

How’s that for rediculously vague and unpromising? The web site only mentions a position in sales for New Orleans.. gross.

On the other hand, someone from Traxx wrote me back saying they need Bike Messengers. Sure, it’s cliche and probably doesn’t pay shit, but it could be fun and hey, riding a bike all day can’t be THAT bad. Besides, I could pretend I’m Kevin Bacon in Quicksilver.

Bicycle Michaels hasn’t called me back about my resume. No one from has either. This is really getting frustrating. Either I’m gonna be waiting tables in 2 weeks, or I’m gonna be living off my FEMA money – if it ever comes though. Neither of which are options I want to pursue.

Great times

Yaayyy! Today was a very good day. It was a good night even. First we went to Jason’s house for a game of New Orleans Street Smarts where we took turns guessing which of a random selection of us were or were not able to answer general knowledge trivia questions.

Who would know I was dating someone that knew what “gorp” was?

After Street Smarts Killer and I went to the tail end of the offBEAT awards show at the House of Blues and walked in while Fred LeBlanc and Paul Sanchez of Cowboy Mouth were starting their set just in time to hear great versions of Hurricane Party, Take Me Back to New Orleans and a very cool new Fred song called, I believe, On The Blvd.. After Fred and Paul left, the lovely Theresa Anderson took the stage and was was fabulous as usual. During her set I glanced over the schedule and saw that White Bitch was playing at the Parish Room next door so I left Killer to see if he was playing yet. There was some confusion because the band that was scheduled to play after him was on, but he ended up going on after them, so I was excited to see him afterall.

The last time I saw White Bitch was when he did Public Enemy at the Mermaid Lounge Masked Band Ball and honestly I think it was the best show I’ve ever seen considering he’s a scrawny white dude with a drum machine and he NAILED Chuck D for like, an hour. I’ve never seen P.E. live, but I’ve seen them on a few bootleg videos and they were using a backing track for most of the tracks. Chuck D can’t even do Chuck D for an hour straight. :/ (Michael, if you ever want to do a repeat performance, my Birthday is July 20th.) Anyway, Ray Bong was playing with him and as much as the therimin rules the school – it’s fucking annoying as hell when it’s too loud and all it’s doing is making spaceship noises ad nauseum. I liked Bong’s input when he was sampling bits from his now-famous conversation with Rush Limbaugh but I would have liked to hear more of that and little less whooshes and wrrrrrngs of UFOs. Sometimes it worked and sounded cool, but unfortunately, for my tastes, it was competing too much and really clashed with the rest of the stuff going on. To each his own.

I took some pictures and videos with my phone. Sorry they’re so crappy but it’s a phone with a camera, not the other way around. If When my FEMA money comes through I’ll be getting proper photo gear again.

I especially appologize for the smaller photos of Theresa Anderson and Wolfman Washington. I wasn’t as close to them and had to “zoom” in. I forget the one thing that is fucking STUPID about camera phones that claim to have “zoom capibilities” is that they mostly just take pictures of a smaller portion of the frame but without actually zooming in on the shot. That’s CROPPING, not ZOOMING.
Theresa Anderson: (click for “bigger” versions)

Theresa AndersonTheresa Anderson

White Bitch: (click for bigger versions)

White BitchWhite BitchWhite BitchWhite Bitch

Walter Wolfman Washington, playing with his teeth even:
(click for “bigger” versions)

WolfmanWalter Wolfman WashingtonWalter Wolfman WashingtonWalter Wolfman Washington

Some video: (The audio is terrible!) bitch1.avi, bitch2.avi, wolfman.avi

Sorry Teresa. Nothing personal, but my camera wouldn’t save any vids I tried grabbing of you.

So far this week sucks and it’s already Friday.

I’ve been trying to get to the unemployment office all week, however a suspect diet beverage at Good Friends derailed my plans Tuesday afternoon. I swear, there was some bacteria in the diet cola lines that gave me ecoli or salmonella or something equally dreadful as I was in either in bed or on the toilet from that moment until early this morning.

I woke up at 6:30 (or stayed up until 6:30, depending on how you look at it) and rode the Esplanade bus to St. Charles and Jackson then rode my bike to Thalia St. and arived shortly before 8am. I proceded to wait in line outside for an hour and a half until they herded us into another line for an hour inside a short, claustrophobic hallway somewhere inside the bowels of the Louisiana Department of Labor while we filled out forms and small slips of white paper explaining in detail what each of us did in our previous jobs to deserve to be there.. Next, they made us play musical chairs for 2 hours while they called out strange combinations of numbers, colors and mangled interpretations of our names. It was like Bingo on Star Trek or something. “38, blue.” “41” “Vincent Maca.. Macaluca” “32, Yellow” “Anita Bowangula, 37 blue.” I mean, I accept the fact that I had to sacrifice an entire Friday in line at Unemployment for what I did wrong, and what I did was wrong but I think they’re crazy for making us filling out little white slips telling them who I think I am. What do they care? They see me as they want to see me. In the most simplest terms, the most convient defintions they see me as a graphic designer, a bike nerd, a blogger, a queen, and an abuser of the system. Does that answer their question?

Ok, it’s late and the power is off at my house and I can’t sleep without a box fan some sort of noise going on around me. So now I’m at Napoleon’s Itch listening to HORRIFIC dance music and drinking their weird Diet Coke mix.