As part of my job duties, I've been authoring some rejection letters in the past few weeks. This is one of the things I'll miss the least, no matter what I end up doing next. It seems most cruel to be rejecting people right around the holidays, although since I am also a current applicant I know anything is better than waiting.
Still, I have some thoughts about the rejections I DIDN'T write in turning down applicants for a variety of positions.
Exhibit I: Short and sweet, with a reference to the season:
Ho! Ho! No.
Exhibit II: To the applicant who clearly didn't read the ad very carefully and is woefully underqualified:
Dear applicant,
We appreciate the time and effort you put into applying for this position. When you have completed the two additional degrees and gained the five years of experience listed under our minimum requirements, we promise to put equal time and effort into considering your application.
Sincerely,
Exhibit III: To the applicant who sent incomplete materials in an undecipherable file format, by email, at 11:59 p.m. on the deadline:
Dear applicant,
qweproi adfkjgha *(*(*
**@)(#$*&#$*%&^W$+)(WE_RTR^T%^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>*()#$%SDF @#$%)(*% EPRGH H @#$(DFG will contact you.
All best,
Exhibit IV: To the applicant I think should have made the shortlist instead of the people the committee chose:
Dear applicant,
Your style, talents, and grace have clearly exceeded the requirements for this position, to the extent that you have frightened the committee members into choosing lesser mortals for continued consideration. They have looked into the shining mirror of your countenance and found only reflections of their own inadequacies. Their loss. Please accept my apologies, and if you're looking for future subordinates to lead into a beautiful new world, please look me up.
11.30.2007
11.16.2007
11.15.2007
Job search update, part one.
This blog could use an FAQ's section regarding my recent post on job applications, so to answer the most popular questions of the last few weeks:
1. Matt and I remain happily married, and we're not planning to move unless there is something great for both of us wherever we're going. I am not moving anywhere by myself, or taking the bug with, or anything like that. The Beasley family unit plans to remain a three-part unit, and we'd probably both quit and work at Starbucks before trying to live in different cities for career reasons. Thanks for your concern, everyone.
2. Yes, Notre Dame is on the other side of Chicago. This may be inconvenient but it is still a great Catholic school and their current position is basically my dream job so I just had to see if I could even get an interview.
3. Yes, Utah is dominantly Mormon. The University of Utah is not, however, and they may have something really cool for Matt, so we'll see what happens.
4. We love Colorado. We don't want to move. The job market just had some really unusual and neat opportunities this year that we didn't want to let slip by without throwing our hats in the ring. We like the school where we work, we love the proximity to friends and family, and it will take something truly great to make us consider packing up and moving one more time. We really, really don't want to move. Really.
All right, FAQ's aside: I have one application left to put together that's due in early December; Matt's last one goes out today I believe. Then we can truly enjoy turkey day next week. I hope you all have plans for Thanksgiving that make you happy, too.
Anyone know about any holiday 5K's happening around Boulder/ Denver in the next few weeks, post-11/25? I'd like a chance to run off some of the holiday calories if anyone else is up for it.
1. Matt and I remain happily married, and we're not planning to move unless there is something great for both of us wherever we're going. I am not moving anywhere by myself, or taking the bug with, or anything like that. The Beasley family unit plans to remain a three-part unit, and we'd probably both quit and work at Starbucks before trying to live in different cities for career reasons. Thanks for your concern, everyone.
2. Yes, Notre Dame is on the other side of Chicago. This may be inconvenient but it is still a great Catholic school and their current position is basically my dream job so I just had to see if I could even get an interview.
3. Yes, Utah is dominantly Mormon. The University of Utah is not, however, and they may have something really cool for Matt, so we'll see what happens.
4. We love Colorado. We don't want to move. The job market just had some really unusual and neat opportunities this year that we didn't want to let slip by without throwing our hats in the ring. We like the school where we work, we love the proximity to friends and family, and it will take something truly great to make us consider packing up and moving one more time. We really, really don't want to move. Really.
All right, FAQ's aside: I have one application left to put together that's due in early December; Matt's last one goes out today I believe. Then we can truly enjoy turkey day next week. I hope you all have plans for Thanksgiving that make you happy, too.
Anyone know about any holiday 5K's happening around Boulder/ Denver in the next few weeks, post-11/25? I'd like a chance to run off some of the holiday calories if anyone else is up for it.
11.08.2007
One, two, three!
Yesterday was the bug's third birthday. She opened presents first thing in the morning, took a present for her class to school, and got to go to her favorite restaurant for dinner after school-and-work. All in all it was a pretty good day.
Now she is obsessed with a sense of order. Things have to happen a certain way in a certain pattern or she will get thrown off, especially in the morning or when her blood sugar is low on the way home from school. If she were older it would be OCD; at this age it's apparently normal although I think "normal" is a word basically devoid of meaning if this is what it looks like.
She will break down into tears if not allowed to open the door into her school by herself. Only she can get her backpack off the hook, zip her lunchbag, brush her teeth. We are right in the middle of the "all by myself" stage, and all this independence can be a bit time-consuming. It takes time for little fingers to undo knots, to turn faucet knobs, to zip zippers.
But there are all the new good parts: she loves watercolor painting and coloring and will make me pictures of trees, flowers, and planets all day long. She's taken to carrying empty blankets around the house all bunched up in her arms, calling them her "babies" and snuggling them to nap. (Meanwhile her dolls sit in the closet; take note, all ye who love dollies.) She's building block towers, scrubbing floors, and helping empty the silverware from the dishwasher. Housework is super-fascinating and she wants to help with everything. And she's starting to be coordinated enough to be able to water flowers, have tea parties, and kick various sporting goods around the backyard.
My favorite story this week is about a boy in her class. I always ask her who she played with on the way home from school. Wednesday she said, "Ryan," which is a name she hasn't mentioned before. He is one of the older children who only come over to her building for after-school care. I asked her what they played with, and she said, "Baseball. And soccer ball. And football." I asked her if she did the throwing or the catching, and she said, "I just played with Ryan. If you want to play with Ryan you have to talk about balls."
Matt said, "I think she's just figured men out for about the next ten years."
I think three is my most favorite age yet.
Now she is obsessed with a sense of order. Things have to happen a certain way in a certain pattern or she will get thrown off, especially in the morning or when her blood sugar is low on the way home from school. If she were older it would be OCD; at this age it's apparently normal although I think "normal" is a word basically devoid of meaning if this is what it looks like.
She will break down into tears if not allowed to open the door into her school by herself. Only she can get her backpack off the hook, zip her lunchbag, brush her teeth. We are right in the middle of the "all by myself" stage, and all this independence can be a bit time-consuming. It takes time for little fingers to undo knots, to turn faucet knobs, to zip zippers.
But there are all the new good parts: she loves watercolor painting and coloring and will make me pictures of trees, flowers, and planets all day long. She's taken to carrying empty blankets around the house all bunched up in her arms, calling them her "babies" and snuggling them to nap. (Meanwhile her dolls sit in the closet; take note, all ye who love dollies.) She's building block towers, scrubbing floors, and helping empty the silverware from the dishwasher. Housework is super-fascinating and she wants to help with everything. And she's starting to be coordinated enough to be able to water flowers, have tea parties, and kick various sporting goods around the backyard.
My favorite story this week is about a boy in her class. I always ask her who she played with on the way home from school. Wednesday she said, "Ryan," which is a name she hasn't mentioned before. He is one of the older children who only come over to her building for after-school care. I asked her what they played with, and she said, "Baseball. And soccer ball. And football." I asked her if she did the throwing or the catching, and she said, "I just played with Ryan. If you want to play with Ryan you have to talk about balls."
Matt said, "I think she's just figured men out for about the next ten years."
I think three is my most favorite age yet.
11.06.2007
Hold the lime.
Or don't:
A Corona, Please...
Sentence of the day: "Tongs are to a bartender what work boots would be on a ballerina."
And in other cocktail news, for some time I've been meaning to post a recipe for a drink I really enjoyed while in New Orleans this summer. (The absinthe now available in stores no longer causes hallucinations, by the way; they took out the wormwood some time ago.) I haven't tried making this with Peychaud's bitters, but it sounds pretty close to what I had there. Not too strong, not too sweet.
The Sazerac
It probably says something about my work day today that I'm posting about after-work beverages already, but I really liked the New York Times story. Happy Thursday!
A Corona, Please...
Sentence of the day: "Tongs are to a bartender what work boots would be on a ballerina."
And in other cocktail news, for some time I've been meaning to post a recipe for a drink I really enjoyed while in New Orleans this summer. (The absinthe now available in stores no longer causes hallucinations, by the way; they took out the wormwood some time ago.) I haven't tried making this with Peychaud's bitters, but it sounds pretty close to what I had there. Not too strong, not too sweet.
The Sazerac
It probably says something about my work day today that I'm posting about after-work beverages already, but I really liked the New York Times story. Happy Thursday!
11.02.2007
Wouldn't you know.
The Feminine Critique
It turns out that the right answer to the question "How do women gain professional respect at work?" is...well, every possible answer is wrong. We can choose between being perceived as less competent than men, or too tough as women. We lose stature by getting angry, while men gain stature by doing so.
So, would you rather be respected, or liked? Since we apparently only get to choose one...
It turns out that the right answer to the question "How do women gain professional respect at work?" is...well, every possible answer is wrong. We can choose between being perceived as less competent than men, or too tough as women. We lose stature by getting angry, while men gain stature by doing so.
So, would you rather be respected, or liked? Since we apparently only get to choose one...
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