Well, this time last week I was on Cloud Nine: I had just submitted an application for a job with a design firm in Burbank that prints about 30 publications for various law enforcement and firefighting associations around the country.
Following the information I got in my job-hunting boot camp seminar, I tried to find the e-mail address of the woman who was listed as a contact, but to no avail. Feeling gutsy, I sent an e-mail to the CEO, since I did find his e-mail.
Low and behold, he called me up within a few hours and I had a phone interview with him. He was online, looking at my portfolio website as we talked, and he was very complimentary about my work. It seemed like all was going swimmingly. He told me that the woman listed as contact would be calling me sometime this week to schedule a full interview.
Monday and Tuesday passed without a call. Wednesday afternoon, I saw a job posting from the same company for a web designer. So on Thursday, I called up the place (I had found their phone number by then) and asked to speak to the woman. After a moment on hold, I was talking to the CEO again. He said the production manager had decided to go in a different direction with the additional position, and that they were looking for someone with more experience with the web.
He immediately asked me if I would be interested in free-lance work with them, and I said yes, but I was really looking for a full-time gig. He said he would keep my resume on file and keep me in mind, repeating that he really liked my publication design work. I thanked him for talking with me personally about this and we hung up.
SHIT! SHIT! Shitshitshitshit shit! Not only did the job sound right up my ally, but the design firm seemed just the right size; a place I could work publication and get my feet really wet in the web with a team of people who really knew what they were doing.
I sat down and designed a thank-you card for him (his name is Mark, too), and let him know I appreciated him taking his time to talk to me, even though the news wasn't good. Most people would have left it to the receptionist to do. It felt good to get at least that much respect, and from the CEO of the company.
So I went online and found a posting for a job with a real estate development firm in Koreatown called Real Estate Idea, Inc. From the information online, it seems they do condo conversions and development in the mid-Wilshire District. I could take the subway to work. And they were offering a nice chunk of change for the work, which was very diverse.
Looking over their website, it was obvious that this was a group with one foot in L.A. and the other in Seoul. Some of the writing on the site had serious syntactical errors, and one or two sentences just kind of petered out without really saying anything, but you got the gist of what they were trying to say.
They actually wanted nothing but snail-mailed resumes and cover letters, and that always gives me a leg up, since I am very good at writing cover letters. I'm not holding my breath, though.
Being very bummed out by Burbank falling through the cracks, I sat down and did an financial inventory. All the bills and credit cards are paid off and we've got enough in savings to carry us for almost a year without any income from me. Also, we have a massive amount of untapped credit at our disposal (not that I'm eager to use it).
So, I'm seriously thinking of starting my own design studio. I know I've said that before, but I'm coming up on the two-year mark of unemployment, and I'm thinking maybe this is the message I'm getting from God and I just don't want to hear it.
Steve is very supportive, saying he will gladly handle the accounting and collections side of the business for me. That leaves the networking and marketing end to me. And the designing, of course.
The logistics of setting up a business are overwhelming for me, though. I'm not quite sure where to begin.
I think I'll begin by praying and asking for help.
Tune in next week for an update.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Plugging Along, Puzzle Solving
It's been a weird week for me. There were eight jobs postings I sent resumes to, but I have pretty much given up getting answers. I just put things out there and hope for the best. I go through spates of being bummed, anxious, depressed and anticipatory, but I'm getting used to the cycle anytime a potential position shows up in the job posts.
In the online arena, I'm gaining knowledge and insight on a daily basis. I have some new JavaScript code I'm using for a cross-fading slide show effect on the website I'm working on (First Prize Pet Products). I decided to integrate the code into the opening page of my portfolio site, so now there are two rotating slide shows that display more of my design samples on the first page (not just the publication design, but brochures, labels and even set design and interior design work).
Save for a couple of pieces of artwork, the First Prize Pet Products website is ready to go up and get tested. I may have a sticky time getting the form on the site to connect correctly and return the form information, but I won't know for sure until I've actually launched the site. Luckily, not a lot of people use the form, so I'll have some time for testing.
This weekend was a good one: we got the recycling done on Saturday and got hooked on the series "Heroes" via Netflix. On Sunday we cleaned out a good part of the garage and watched a couple old movies ("My Man Godfrey" and "Sunset Boulevard").
The weirdest thing to happen, and one that I found most compelling, is the knocking over of the puzzle box. About eight or nine years ago, my Aunt Kit gave it to me as a Christmas present. It's a clear plastic box with a maze inside and a single steel ball. Locked within the maze is a $10 bill: complete the maze and the cash pops out.
Over the last eight or nine years, I've given the puzzle a go every now and then, always being very frustrated (not being very good at those kinds of puzzles), eventually shelving it only to take a crack at it a few months later. I always told myself that if things got really bad, I could always take a hammer to it and retrieve the cash. Most recently it was sitting on the filing cabinet next to my desk in the office.
Now you must understand our cat rules of the house. The first, and major, rule is that anything on the floor is available as a toy. Our younger cat, Patty, has expanded on this rule, so that anything she can knock onto the floor becomes a toy. This is especially valuable to her in the office, with rubber bands, paper clips and other small objects out in the open.
Thursday evening we were downstairs in the living room and heard a thump from upstairs in the office. When I went up to check it out, I found the puzzle on the floor, Patty ready to run for her life, and the tray with the $10 bill open and protruding from the puzzle.
I yelled, "Oh, my God!" and started to laugh. Patty barreled needlessly for cover. And it got me to thinking.
I had spent the last eight years in a halfhearted attempt to solve that puzzle and, unbeknownst to me, it was only one move away from solution. When Patty knocked it to the floor, the ball bounced into its final position and the solution presented itself. I plucked the $10 out of its slot because it was obviously time to spend it.
My first impulse was to call Aunt Kit and tell her about this amazing happening, but she died about a year and a half ago. I think it was the first time I felt sad about not having her with us without grieving.
So there's lots to glean from this event:
1. No matter how impossible a problem seems, if you continue to work toward a solution, you will succeed.
2. If you have a problem that you don't have a knack for solving, put it out there and share it with others; somebody with the knack will come up with a solution when you least expect it.
3. This is why we truly miss those who die: we can no longer share these priceless moments of which they were an integral part.
4. Coincidence, serendipity, dumb luck and delight are things that cannot be scheduled; make room for them when they arrive.
5. Patience is not a virtue, it is a vital life skill.
As for my ongoing job search, I shall continue to be diligent, keep putting out the resumes, keeping at the web design. At some point, God will knock that puzzle off my shelf and that long-desired career move will pop open for the plucking.
In the online arena, I'm gaining knowledge and insight on a daily basis. I have some new JavaScript code I'm using for a cross-fading slide show effect on the website I'm working on (First Prize Pet Products). I decided to integrate the code into the opening page of my portfolio site, so now there are two rotating slide shows that display more of my design samples on the first page (not just the publication design, but brochures, labels and even set design and interior design work).
Save for a couple of pieces of artwork, the First Prize Pet Products website is ready to go up and get tested. I may have a sticky time getting the form on the site to connect correctly and return the form information, but I won't know for sure until I've actually launched the site. Luckily, not a lot of people use the form, so I'll have some time for testing.
This weekend was a good one: we got the recycling done on Saturday and got hooked on the series "Heroes" via Netflix. On Sunday we cleaned out a good part of the garage and watched a couple old movies ("My Man Godfrey" and "Sunset Boulevard").
The weirdest thing to happen, and one that I found most compelling, is the knocking over of the puzzle box. About eight or nine years ago, my Aunt Kit gave it to me as a Christmas present. It's a clear plastic box with a maze inside and a single steel ball. Locked within the maze is a $10 bill: complete the maze and the cash pops out.Over the last eight or nine years, I've given the puzzle a go every now and then, always being very frustrated (not being very good at those kinds of puzzles), eventually shelving it only to take a crack at it a few months later. I always told myself that if things got really bad, I could always take a hammer to it and retrieve the cash. Most recently it was sitting on the filing cabinet next to my desk in the office.
Now you must understand our cat rules of the house. The first, and major, rule is that anything on the floor is available as a toy. Our younger cat, Patty, has expanded on this rule, so that anything she can knock onto the floor becomes a toy. This is especially valuable to her in the office, with rubber bands, paper clips and other small objects out in the open.
Thursday evening we were downstairs in the living room and heard a thump from upstairs in the office. When I went up to check it out, I found the puzzle on the floor, Patty ready to run for her life, and the tray with the $10 bill open and protruding from the puzzle.
I yelled, "Oh, my God!" and started to laugh. Patty barreled needlessly for cover. And it got me to thinking.
I had spent the last eight years in a halfhearted attempt to solve that puzzle and, unbeknownst to me, it was only one move away from solution. When Patty knocked it to the floor, the ball bounced into its final position and the solution presented itself. I plucked the $10 out of its slot because it was obviously time to spend it.
My first impulse was to call Aunt Kit and tell her about this amazing happening, but she died about a year and a half ago. I think it was the first time I felt sad about not having her with us without grieving.
So there's lots to glean from this event:
1. No matter how impossible a problem seems, if you continue to work toward a solution, you will succeed.
2. If you have a problem that you don't have a knack for solving, put it out there and share it with others; somebody with the knack will come up with a solution when you least expect it.
3. This is why we truly miss those who die: we can no longer share these priceless moments of which they were an integral part.
4. Coincidence, serendipity, dumb luck and delight are things that cannot be scheduled; make room for them when they arrive.
5. Patience is not a virtue, it is a vital life skill.
As for my ongoing job search, I shall continue to be diligent, keep putting out the resumes, keeping at the web design. At some point, God will knock that puzzle off my shelf and that long-desired career move will pop open for the plucking.
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