I'm thinking of overhauling my LinkedIn profile. It's too nice, too professional. It has my work experience, which is too varied to be impressive and not a great indicator of my ambitions. It has my current job, which is, as far as I'm concerned, a placeholder. I'm not interested in getting job offers based on the face that I present to the world in that profile.
What I really want to do is fill it with snarky, irreverent comments -- about myself, about my work history, about everything. The employer who finds that fun is the one for me. If anyone decides they're not interested because I'd rather talk about pleather and whether corn syrup makes convincing saliva on camera, then congratulations: The lack of interest is mutual.
If you're linked to me, here's your heads-up. You can disavow any association now, should you see fit.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Thursday, February 24, 2011
PodCandy on Facebook!
It just occurred to me that I haven't told you that Holly's PodCandy has a Facebook page, and that you can "like" it. I don't know what good that does you, since I also post links to the poscasts here, although it does have some extra little status updates. OK, so yeah, you'd get extra little status updates. That's fun, right?
When I got this podcast onto iTunes (did I tell you you can also find it on iTunes?), I learned that there's another podcast called simply "Podcandy." I haven't listened to it, but it's probably great, since it has a good name. In all locations, though, mine is officially known as Holly's PodCandy. Because it's mine. I'm Holly.
TTFN.
When I got this podcast onto iTunes (did I tell you you can also find it on iTunes?), I learned that there's another podcast called simply "Podcandy." I haven't listened to it, but it's probably great, since it has a good name. In all locations, though, mine is officially known as Holly's PodCandy. Because it's mine. I'm Holly.
TTFN.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
The Burdens Italians Bear
I'm a lot of things. One of the things I am is Italian. I exaggerate, talk with my hands, and find a way to work olive oil into most dinners. All stereotypes. All awesome.
But it ain't all easy. There are a few genetic handicaps that come with these ancient Roman roots. And, like all self-respecting daughters of Italy, I handle it with dignity by talking about them to anyone who will listen, and talking more loudly if that person starts to walk away.
Problem 1: Grease. Not the cooking kind. The skin kind. I've had acne since I was ten. As you can see in the right-hand column of this blog, I'm now 36. That's a long time. And it doesn't look like it's going to let up soon. Medication has been keeping it at bay, but all I have to do is miss one application to realize that the medicinal levy is barely holding back the deluge. Upside: I may never wrinkle, ever. If my experience is anything to go by, this is a fountain of youth, but the price of eternal youth is eternal zits.
Problem 2: I wear my food. I'm like a magnet. Or a Swiffer. Or a black hole into which chocolate, peanut butter, and tomato sauce are irresistibly drawn. That Tom Sauce is a sneaky fellow. I keep trying to keep him away from my pure sweaters, but he finds a way to get at them. And Chocolate Chip always seems to fall onto the couch, waiting to be sat upon so he can melt onto my pants. P. Butter has found his way onto, of all things, my eyelid.
Something to look forward to: Turning into my Nona, who talked about bowel issues at suppertime. "A little shit with your dinner," as she said. What's the Italian word for "classy?" We're that.
But it ain't all easy. There are a few genetic handicaps that come with these ancient Roman roots. And, like all self-respecting daughters of Italy, I handle it with dignity by talking about them to anyone who will listen, and talking more loudly if that person starts to walk away.
Problem 1: Grease. Not the cooking kind. The skin kind. I've had acne since I was ten. As you can see in the right-hand column of this blog, I'm now 36. That's a long time. And it doesn't look like it's going to let up soon. Medication has been keeping it at bay, but all I have to do is miss one application to realize that the medicinal levy is barely holding back the deluge. Upside: I may never wrinkle, ever. If my experience is anything to go by, this is a fountain of youth, but the price of eternal youth is eternal zits.
Problem 2: I wear my food. I'm like a magnet. Or a Swiffer. Or a black hole into which chocolate, peanut butter, and tomato sauce are irresistibly drawn. That Tom Sauce is a sneaky fellow. I keep trying to keep him away from my pure sweaters, but he finds a way to get at them. And Chocolate Chip always seems to fall onto the couch, waiting to be sat upon so he can melt onto my pants. P. Butter has found his way onto, of all things, my eyelid.
Something to look forward to: Turning into my Nona, who talked about bowel issues at suppertime. "A little shit with your dinner," as she said. What's the Italian word for "classy?" We're that.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
From the Top
There's a show on Public Radio called From the Top, which features young (under 18) classical musicians. I couldn't listen to this show when I was trying to make it as a freelancer. Apart from the difficulty of listening to people 10-15 years my junior getting all kinds of attention and applause while I played to my apartment walls and scrounged for $60 gigs, it was a reminder of my own lost musical innocence. Music had become competitive, stressful, frustrating work.
This morning, six years after setting professional music aside, I turned on the radio and found that From the Top was on. And I'm not hating it. It's still not the easiest thing in the world to hear brilliant violin playing coming from a 16-year-old, followed by screams of approval from the audience, but it's kind of nice to hear the interviews with these musicians. They seem like nice, likable kids, and I begrudge them their success less.
This is progress for me: Not hating America's most talented young people.
This morning, six years after setting professional music aside, I turned on the radio and found that From the Top was on. And I'm not hating it. It's still not the easiest thing in the world to hear brilliant violin playing coming from a 16-year-old, followed by screams of approval from the audience, but it's kind of nice to hear the interviews with these musicians. They seem like nice, likable kids, and I begrudge them their success less.
This is progress for me: Not hating America's most talented young people.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Friday, February 04, 2011
A New PodCandy is Finally Here!
A guide to fake productivity (because real productivity is for people who don't listen to podcasts).
Listening at Work: A Tutorial
Listening at Work: A Tutorial
Things That Are Hard
Work
Staying awake
Doing work
Getting work done
Bein' green (technically, this is "not easy")
Being at work
Not taking a nap at work
Running uphill
Staying awake
Doing work
Getting work done
Bein' green (technically, this is "not easy")
Being at work
Not taking a nap at work
Running uphill
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