Jobs for Philosophers

Yesterday at the office we got a call from the mother of a recently admitted student.  He wants to major in Philosophy, but isn't ready to commit to law school yet, having just graduated from high school.

The mother wondered if philosophy majors got jobs after graduating, and wondered what kind of jobs they got.  She wondered if the cost of our high-priced, private institution  was worth it, as her son also had been accepted to UCLA and UC Berkeley (neither cheap, except in comparison to the school where I work.)

She had heard that the connections one gained if one were a graduate of our institution were invaluable.  She'd heard our institution was worth its cost because of its awesome and magical network that could guarantee employment.  Were these things true?  Did anyone know the answers?  Could I perhaps give her the number of that person?

Commencement Rehearsal

Sea of chairs.
Standing around in our spots. Time feels long and a little boring, but not unpleasant.
Tomorrow, when the kids (graduates!) walk off the stage, my job is to give them a gift.
No one knows what the gift will be. It's a mystery.
But probably it will be a pen.

Juxtaposition

I've been gluttonously, without any self discipline whatsoever, re-reading The Hunger Games. Beyond the narrative, it makes me think of how we first-worlders, like the citizens of the Capitol in the book, are capable of cocooning ourselves in our own concerns, which of course are petty in the eyes of half the world. And it makes me think of people who are hungry, who live with hunger everyday.

Simultaneously (and I mean that literally, because I'm sometimes reading even as I tape receipts to pieces of paper), I'm processing an expense reports for one of our professors who spent much of the summer abroad. I have to go through the line items on every receipt, many of which are for restaurants. Here are some things that were ordered.

Prawn Cocktails
Pesto Rissoto
Crab Lobster Org (I don't know what the "Org" stands for, it's a receipt abbreviation)
Rabbit Ragu

Lamb Slow Cooked
Classic Brg.

Steak & Frites
Meat Plank

Scampi

Beef Carpaccio
Fishcake

Duck Confit

Spcl Pork Cutlet
Shepherds Pie
Spcl Lamb Rump
Crispy Squid
Chicken Salad
Duck Breast
Prawn Chrz Pasta

Apple Galette
Brownie
Ice Cream
Creme Brulee

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

One of the reasons I take the bus to work is that I have bad parking ticket karma. Of course, I live in L.A., so maybe that means I'm just asking for it. If I want to park my car in peace, I should move to a Dakota.

Today, instead of taking the bus to work, I drove my car, because I wanted to give four file-boxes of office supplies we've collected to a local elementary school to use in the classrooms.

I pulled up outside our building and we loaded up the car. I went inside the office one last time to call the school and tell them we were on the way. When I came back outside, three minutes later, I had this ticket. Fifty bucks.

City of Los Angeles tickets irk me because they are over-zealous and often unfair, but I know that, like an irresponsible teenager the City is shitty at managing its finances, and thus needs to extort money from its citizens. USC on the other hand... Didn't somebody give them another hundred and fifty million just last week?

Morning K-Town

One of my June projects has been to start taking the bus to work. I actually take two buses to work. The corner where I get off one bus and onto another is located in Koreatown, more affectionately known as "K-town." This is the strip mall where I wait for the second bus.

Here is the the reverse angle. There is no bench, so most people sit on this wall. If I were not taking the picture, I would also be sitting on the wall, although I like to sit on the high section of the wall, which is also closer to the actual stop. I don't know why they prefer the low wall.
Usually, about the time I arrive in K-town I am just beginning to feel hungry and I wish that I had the time to go into this restaurant and try what I assume is the breakfast special. The description is in Korean but it is $4.99 from 6am-11am. While Paul and I eat dinner at Korean restaurants fairly often, I have never eaten a Korean breakfast, so I have no idea what the food would be. I've never arrived at this stop so early that I could afford to skip a bus and hang out in the restaurant eating breakfast, but maybe someday I will.

Friday, Friday

Feeling the Friday. Thought not exactly in the Rebecca Black way. Though in a metaphorical sense I guess I am always wondering "which seat should I take."

Lot's of paperwork at work. Lot's more paperwork at home.

Feeling the pain of not enough hours in the day somewhat acutely. It's easy to feel how years could swiftly pass this way.

Writing this in the ten magical minutes the advertising on the tube says it will take to cover my gray hairs. I'll let you know.

Thinking about work. My writing work--not the the other one. Though truth be told, I think about that one too-more than I like. It's all about what surrounds me--which I'm beginning to realize is pretty dangerous.

Also thinking about my friend Kelly, about to undergo brain surgery next week that may leave her sight impaired or blind.

Thinking about pro-Palestinian protesters in Isreal...the way when they mentioned their deaths on NPR no one bothers to mention any details. They don't say "violence broke out" or describe the conflict at all--just that there was a protest, and then there were dead people. Next subject.

Thinking about how the tired I feel when I go to bed at night these days is so utter and absolute.

And how my ten minutes are up now.

My New Job

My new job is Administrative Assistant I for the Philosophy Department at the University of Southern California.

A couple days after I started, one of the doctoral students came in to make some copies and asked, "Are you the new secretary?"

I experienced a split second on disconnect--like this "secretary" was someone I hadn't met yet, and then it clicked.

"Yes," I said.

I tend to make fun of the twisty things we do with language to make ourselves feel better about stuff, but at the same time, I totally fall for it. And I'm not sure what it is that is slightly demeaning about the word secretary, except maybe that it seems feminized, while assistant is androgynous. Like stewardess and flight attendant. Like soldier and troop. No, I guess that last one is a little different.

Anyway, my new job as an administrative assistant is fine. Benign. And it has health insurance. It doesn't really pay our bills, but it will cover some of them. I don't feel knotted with anxiety on the drive in, as I have with other jobs. The people are nice and the work is within the limits of my willingness and ability. It's also in a really pretty building. I took some pictures, just for you. Coming soon.

The main drawbacks to the job are that it requires a fair amount of sitting, and a fair amount of sitting in front of a computer screen. So as a writer, I have to really wrestle with myself to embark on another shift of sitting in front of a computer screen at the end of the day. At the end of the day, it's not what myself wants to do, really. What myself seems to want to do at the end of the day is go to the gym and read YA novels on the elliptical machines, or curl up and eat bean burritos and chocolate ice-cream in bed. Tonight, myself lost a few beans, so if you come to my house and you see the brown streaks on the sheets, it's not poop stains, it's just residuals from self-comforting behaviors that don't necessarily imply depression.

Don't Call Us....

PERSONAL ASSISTANT POSITIONS

Personal assistant for experienced showrunner living/working in Weho. Simple duties: errands, grocery shopping, light phones. $500 a week, 5 days a week, fairly flexible hours. Showrunner will not read your writing. Send resumes to xxxxxxt@gmail.com.


To Whom It May Concern:

I am writing in response to your advertisement on the UTA job list for a personal assistant.

I’m responsible, honest, and organized. I’m a big fan of simple duties. I love grocery shopping on the clock. I have an excellent phone manner. I have run errands large and small, late and early, forgettable and worthy of a chapter in someone’s memoirs (but not mine, since I am also very discreet, and in some cases bound by non-disclosure agreements.)

I want to be upfront, however, and let you know that I had to leave my last place of employ because my boss was obsessed with reading my writing, and could not take “no” for an answer. I have a very strict “no-reading” policy.

I’ve attached my resume, and would be happy to meet and see if we might be a good fit.

Cordially,

Barrington

* It's difficult, because it's incredibly tempting to want to read the writing of someone who can navigate the Trader Joe's with such finesse, but really, even if you beg, the answer is no.