SUCKERS. Joking, joking.
But seriously, I thought I'd take some time to share a little of my hard-earned post-library school wisdom with my friends who are now emerging onto the library-job-search scene, so that they don't get the same smack-in-the-face-HELLO!-what-were-you-thinking wake up call experienced by myself and my contemporaries upon our descent into the seedy underbelly of the entry level library job hunt.*
*Here's where I promise I will try to keep the cynicism down to a minimum-to-only-slightly-snarky level, so as to not discourage you and make you flee in terror from this wonderful world we like to call Library.
**Disclaimer: Everything I'm about to say applies only to the U.S. I have no experience searching for jobs in Canada, but it seems from judging by the number of my Canadian friends with jobs vs. the number of my American friends with jobs that the Canadian market is quite a bit more open than the American one. Just something to keep in mind.
OK, first, I have heard from sources that it is pointless to look for jobs in New York state. Now we all know someone who got a job there, but I'm just saying what I heard. Apparently the library school-graduate ratio to library jobs is not in our favor, what with all the library schools they have there, and they just keep churning out the grads every four months or so. Also, you can take it from me that unless you have connections or are some kind of wunderkind, do not even bother applying for jobs in the Washington, D.C. area. It's too competitive. Everyone else applying for jobs has too much experience, or knows someone high-up who can pull strings. I would also guess that Washington state and the Pacific Northwest in general is not the A-number one place to look, either. I see a lot of jobs advertised in California and Florida, though.
Second, I'm sorry to have to be the one to tell you, but there are no entry-level jobs. They just don't exist. Yeah, it's a real bummer. See, you will find job postings that say they are entry-level, or imply by their required qualifications that they are entry-level (i.e. the only requirement will be an MLIS from an accredited school), but in fact the job market is so saturated in the U.S. that employers will actually receive several applications from people who have a few or many years experience. And since people with experience generally need less training and handholding than those of us fresh out of school, guess who will get the job. And so much the better if the person with the experience is willing to work for an entry level salary. The result? We all get paid less! Hurray!
Third, be prepared for the job hunt to take a lot longer than you were expecting. Using myself as an example, it may take a year or longer to find something that pays half-way decently and is professionally satisfying. OK, in my case, longer than a year. And counting. You may have to take a job that is unworthy of you, just to make ends meet. You may have to endure countless humiliating interviews that turn out to be dead-ends, each time suffering the agony of either a) sucking ass in the interview and knowing it or b) sucking ass in the interview and not knowing it, emerging from it in breathless anticipation of an offer, telling your friends and loved ones you just KNOW this is The One, only to never hear back from the place again, except maybe in a distant chuckle on the wind.
Hmm, not doing so well with the cynicism. But anyway. I'd also like to share some of my tips on interviewing for the new grads, since I'm so accomplished in this area.
1) Try to get sleep the night before a big interview. I highly recommend it. If you get sleep, you will feel powerful and alert, whereas if you don't get sleep, it will take a Herculean effort not to drool all over yourself, much less say anything intelligent.
2) Try not to make it seem as though you lied on your resume and/or online portfolio. I think we all remember my own personal debacle with this, and how it turned out. (If you can't remember, I think it was in my very first blog post ever. It should be archived. I'm too lazy to figure out how to link it.)
3) For God's sakes, think of something good to say! At the very least, try very hard not to sound like a blithering idiot. This is where I always fail.
4) Remember to write a thank-you note, which I always forget to do. I don't actually know if it has any effect on the hiring outcome, but a little sweet-talkin' never hurt anyone.
5) If you haven't heard back within two weeks, you aint gonna. Sorry. [Except, of course, in my case, where I suddenly, inexplicably heard back two months later. And speaking of that, I still haven't heard back from my "yes, I am still interested" email. See next tip.]
6) The people doing the hiring are in general big jerks. They only get back to you, if they get back to you, on their own schedule, which is usually long after your interview, at which point you already know you didn't get the job anyway and seeing that reject letter in the mailbox is like a dagger in the heart. Like a kick in the balls when you're already writhing around and moaning on the floor. (Not that I would know of course, but I hear it's quite painful or something.)
Well, that's about all I have for you, grads. The deep, deep wisdom of Un[der]employed Hack, in all its stupid glory.
Congratulations again, and best of luck with the job search!
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Sunday, May 21, 2006
Hillbillies
Last Sunday my coworkers and I trekked down to the main campus of our illustrious university, which is located in the rolling hills of southwestern Virginia they like to call the Appalachian mountains. We went to a library in-service day there, which was a lot like this.
Anyway, the little town itself was very cute and nice. The university was large and architecturally pleasing; the grounds were beautiful and our hotel was excellent. The people, however. Let us just say, I really think southern Virginia needs to invest in a few more dentists. And maybe some elocution lessons, and some basic biology courses with the focus of: why it is not advisable to marry one's sister. And I can tell as I write this that it's all coming out to sound very mean, but what you must keep in mind is that this is the home of the Confederacy. I have very little sympathy for people who still use the 'n' word and drive pick-up trucks.
As for the "mountains." They were pretty, I will give you that. But as compared to the Cascades or the Rockies? MEH. I'm sorry, I can see at least as pretty if not prettier scenery driving down I-5. That's all I'm saying. And let's not even get into something like Whistler because, please. The two do not compare. They are not even the same sport, let alone the same league. Maybe it's just my northwest bias talking, or maybe it's just plain FACT. I'll let you decide.
Anyway, here's a little incident I'd like to leave you with, which is completely unrelated but interesting in its own way. On Tuesday after I'd returned home from the "mountains" I checked my email. Turns out I'd received a message that afternoon from the library where I'd had the kick-ass-in-my-head interview, which by the way was two months ago. They said they were in the process of "checking references" (for two months??) but wanted to know if I was still interested in the position. So now I'm thinking, "OK, two months?? But still, hot damn! They want to hire me!" Fast forward to today, Sunday. I have not heard word one from the library, nor has my boss, who is one of my references and is now out of town for a week. So my question is this: WHAT IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE?
Anyway, the little town itself was very cute and nice. The university was large and architecturally pleasing; the grounds were beautiful and our hotel was excellent. The people, however. Let us just say, I really think southern Virginia needs to invest in a few more dentists. And maybe some elocution lessons, and some basic biology courses with the focus of: why it is not advisable to marry one's sister. And I can tell as I write this that it's all coming out to sound very mean, but what you must keep in mind is that this is the home of the Confederacy. I have very little sympathy for people who still use the 'n' word and drive pick-up trucks.
As for the "mountains." They were pretty, I will give you that. But as compared to the Cascades or the Rockies? MEH. I'm sorry, I can see at least as pretty if not prettier scenery driving down I-5. That's all I'm saying. And let's not even get into something like Whistler because, please. The two do not compare. They are not even the same sport, let alone the same league. Maybe it's just my northwest bias talking, or maybe it's just plain FACT. I'll let you decide.
Anyway, here's a little incident I'd like to leave you with, which is completely unrelated but interesting in its own way. On Tuesday after I'd returned home from the "mountains" I checked my email. Turns out I'd received a message that afternoon from the library where I'd had the kick-ass-in-my-head interview, which by the way was two months ago. They said they were in the process of "checking references" (for two months??) but wanted to know if I was still interested in the position. So now I'm thinking, "OK, two months?? But still, hot damn! They want to hire me!" Fast forward to today, Sunday. I have not heard word one from the library, nor has my boss, who is one of my references and is now out of town for a week. So my question is this: WHAT IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE?
Saturday, May 13, 2006
Oh Vancouver, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways...
I've been thinking a lot lately for some reason about how much better Vancouver is than the rest of the world. Probably because I moved from there to the Worst Place on Earth, and since then have been reevaluating my decision making skills and sanity. So, as per usual, I've compiled a top ten list of reasons why Vancouver is better than everywhere else, because I'm too riddled with ADHD and caffeine to write in coherent paragraphs.
Top Ten Ways in Which Vancouver Rocks
1. The mere existence of Stanley Park. The thought of it fills me at first with peace, just knowing it's out there in the world, and then with rage, knowing it exists and that I cannot enjoy it, nor anything like it, here in Urban Monuments and Office Buildings and Sidewalks and All the Brick You Can Handle.
2. English Bay. Water is good. Water is refreshing. It is nice to look at blue, blue water. Water equals life. Asphalt, on the other hand, equals death. So does the Potomac River, for that matter, so don't even go there.
3. It has a soul. Meaning, you can go to Vancouver and know you are in Vancouver because it has a certain aura, a certain culture. Also, everyone has a Canadian accent. Unless they have an accent from, say, India or Greece or France or China.
4. Good food at reasonable prices. I could afford to eat well in Vancouver (maybe a little too well), and there were many lovely restaurants within an easy distance of my apartment. Here I can afford only a handful of restaurants and the food quality ranges from "meh" to "I'd rather eat a can of soup at home." Even the high-priced ones don't really live up to Vancouver standards. We don't eat out a whole lot anymore.
5. Fruits and vegetables and bread, oh my! Fresh markets. Bakeries. We don't have these things here. We have Safeway and Whole Foods ("Choices" for hippies with an inheritance), if you're lucky. Oh, but not in walking distance. The amount of money we spend on wilty, half-dead produce in a week would make your hair curl. And forget about fresh bread. Just wipe it from your mind. It doesn't exist.
6. A city built with the option in mind of (gasp!) actually walking for here to there. Americans, as we all know, are lazy, obese bastards. No one walks anywhere if they have the money to own a car, thus the sidewalks here are narrow, crumbling, and mostly non-existent. If you choose to walk, you run the risk of getting mowed down by a motorist every time you cross the street.
7. People there, in general, are friendly and easy going. People here, since they are always in a mad rush to get from one place to another (and I don't discount myself from this), are pushy pushy pushy. In the grocery store, people in line stand so close to one another that the person behind you could easily memorize your PIN as you swipe your debit card. There is no such thing as a "personal bubble" here, or more to the point, respectful distance.
8. It's in Canada. Land of gay marriage, universal health care, and abortions as far as the eye can see.
9. The government, presumably, will not tap your phone nor really give a crap whether or not you are a terrorist.
10. Beaches. Vancouver has awesome beaches, and it's not even on the ocean. If there is anything more perfect than lying on the beach, gazing at the azure blue sky against the backdrop of green mountain tops on a completely cloudless August afternoon, I don't know what it is.
Top Ten Ways in Which Vancouver Rocks
1. The mere existence of Stanley Park. The thought of it fills me at first with peace, just knowing it's out there in the world, and then with rage, knowing it exists and that I cannot enjoy it, nor anything like it, here in Urban Monuments and Office Buildings and Sidewalks and All the Brick You Can Handle.
2. English Bay. Water is good. Water is refreshing. It is nice to look at blue, blue water. Water equals life. Asphalt, on the other hand, equals death. So does the Potomac River, for that matter, so don't even go there.
3. It has a soul. Meaning, you can go to Vancouver and know you are in Vancouver because it has a certain aura, a certain culture. Also, everyone has a Canadian accent. Unless they have an accent from, say, India or Greece or France or China.
4. Good food at reasonable prices. I could afford to eat well in Vancouver (maybe a little too well), and there were many lovely restaurants within an easy distance of my apartment. Here I can afford only a handful of restaurants and the food quality ranges from "meh" to "I'd rather eat a can of soup at home." Even the high-priced ones don't really live up to Vancouver standards. We don't eat out a whole lot anymore.
5. Fruits and vegetables and bread, oh my! Fresh markets. Bakeries. We don't have these things here. We have Safeway and Whole Foods ("Choices" for hippies with an inheritance), if you're lucky. Oh, but not in walking distance. The amount of money we spend on wilty, half-dead produce in a week would make your hair curl. And forget about fresh bread. Just wipe it from your mind. It doesn't exist.
6. A city built with the option in mind of (gasp!) actually walking for here to there. Americans, as we all know, are lazy, obese bastards. No one walks anywhere if they have the money to own a car, thus the sidewalks here are narrow, crumbling, and mostly non-existent. If you choose to walk, you run the risk of getting mowed down by a motorist every time you cross the street.
7. People there, in general, are friendly and easy going. People here, since they are always in a mad rush to get from one place to another (and I don't discount myself from this), are pushy pushy pushy. In the grocery store, people in line stand so close to one another that the person behind you could easily memorize your PIN as you swipe your debit card. There is no such thing as a "personal bubble" here, or more to the point, respectful distance.
8. It's in Canada. Land of gay marriage, universal health care, and abortions as far as the eye can see.
9. The government, presumably, will not tap your phone nor really give a crap whether or not you are a terrorist.
10. Beaches. Vancouver has awesome beaches, and it's not even on the ocean. If there is anything more perfect than lying on the beach, gazing at the azure blue sky against the backdrop of green mountain tops on a completely cloudless August afternoon, I don't know what it is.
Monday, May 08, 2006
Why my parents = headache + ulcer
As I mentioned in my last post, my parents came to visit this weekend. A good time was had by all, especially me, especially the part where my mom told me she sincerely believes that I'm going to hell because a) I'm living in sin with the BF (and have been for several years; I had assumed she was over it by now) and b) I don't believe in God. After a few days of being incredibly hurt by the fact that my own mother would both think this about her child, who so far has not done anything particularly spawn-of-satanish, and then tell said child of her fervent belief of child's imminent damnation, I have gotten enough distance to find the humor in the situation. Ha ha. Well, if my mother is correct, I guess I'll probably see her there for being a judgmental bitch. Ha ha.
Anyway, let's move on. I know you all love memes as much as I do, so I thought I'd do another one for you all that I came across this morning.
A-B-C Meme
Accent: West-coastish. If that can be called an accent. I guess its most distinctive characteristic is its lack of distinctive characteristics. I like to think that I sometimes have a wee bit of a Canadian accent, but I know in my heart that I don't.
Booze: Sadly, I really enjoy me a Smirnoff Ice, although it isn't as popular out here. A rum-and-coke comes in at a distant second. Although lately I've been craving margaritas.
Chore I Hate: Cleaning the effing bathroom. Unfortunately it's something I make myself do weekly, because not cleaning the bathroom is too disgusting to contemplate. The only reason I dislike it so much is that the other person I live with claims they are "too busy" to do it, thus I must do it myself Every. Single. Bloody. Week.
Dogs/Cats: I have one cat named Easy (see sidebar). She is 13, and her hobbies include hammering, looking out the window, and meowing at the top of her lungs every night the minute I fall asleep.
Essential electronics: My computer. Obviously.
Favorite perfume: I like the smell of Chanel No. 5, but since that's a little out of my tax bracket, I pretty much just stick with Tommy Girl.
Gold/silver: I have one white gold chain. I am gem- and precious metal-poor. And also just plain poor, too.
Hometown: I reluctantly admit it is Boise, Idaho. It's OK if you laugh a little.
Insomnia: No, thank you. Haha. Yes, I have it all the time these days, which really sucks because historically I am not a troubled sleeper.
Job title: My "title" is Library Specialist. However, in reality I am but a lowly library assistant, with the salary to prove it.
Kids: No, thank you.
Living arrangements: Piddly dungeon of a one bedroom apartment in Arlington, which I share with my BF and cat.
Most admired trait: I don't know if this is supposed to be a trait most admired in myself or other people. I guess for both I would have to say a sense of humor, which I seem to be lacking more and more these days.
Number of sexual partners: As though I would say. However, I will tell you that it's a prime number.
Overnight hospital stays: None so far.
Phobias: Driving, getting hit by a car, and spiders.
Quote: "Fuck it, Dude. Let's go bowling." If you don't know what that's from, I don't think I care to be associated with you anymore. (Kidding. Sort of.)
Religion: None. Was raised Catholic. If I had a shred of faith left, I would still be Catholic.
Siblings: An older brother and older sister.
Time I usually wake up: 7:00 on days I go to the gym; 7:30 on non-gym days.
Unusual talent: None that I am aware of. I don't think I have any usual talents, either.
Vegetable I refuse to eat: Cucumbers. They taste like a fat lot of nothing, with maybe some talcum powder mixed in.
Worst habit: Being a gigantic pessimist, which apparently I get from my mother. Funny story: my mom had been going on and on about how the end times are coming, judgment day is near, I'm going to hell, yada yada yada. A little while later I said something about how I probably won't get a better paying job within the next year, and my mom says, "Oh, don't be such a pessimist!"
X-rays: I've had them for my teeth. That's pretty much it. I have incredibly durable bones.
Yummy foods I make: I can whip up a mean beef stew, and I make incredible no-bake chocolate oatmeal cookies (which I realize need a sexier name).
Zodiac sign: Aquarius. Unfortunately I exhibit none of the usual Aquarius characteristics like artsy-fartsyness, a carefree spirit, and a go-my-own-way attitude, but rather am militaristic in my slavish obedience to rules, am anal retentive, and am decidedly untalented in any artistic field of endeavor.
There. I'm tired. And by the way, no word yet on the private school. Apparently hell's temperatures are well away from freezing at this point.
Anyway, let's move on. I know you all love memes as much as I do, so I thought I'd do another one for you all that I came across this morning.
A-B-C Meme
Accent: West-coastish. If that can be called an accent. I guess its most distinctive characteristic is its lack of distinctive characteristics. I like to think that I sometimes have a wee bit of a Canadian accent, but I know in my heart that I don't.
Booze: Sadly, I really enjoy me a Smirnoff Ice, although it isn't as popular out here. A rum-and-coke comes in at a distant second. Although lately I've been craving margaritas.
Chore I Hate: Cleaning the effing bathroom. Unfortunately it's something I make myself do weekly, because not cleaning the bathroom is too disgusting to contemplate. The only reason I dislike it so much is that the other person I live with claims they are "too busy" to do it, thus I must do it myself Every. Single. Bloody. Week.
Dogs/Cats: I have one cat named Easy (see sidebar). She is 13, and her hobbies include hammering, looking out the window, and meowing at the top of her lungs every night the minute I fall asleep.
Essential electronics: My computer. Obviously.
Favorite perfume: I like the smell of Chanel No. 5, but since that's a little out of my tax bracket, I pretty much just stick with Tommy Girl.
Gold/silver: I have one white gold chain. I am gem- and precious metal-poor. And also just plain poor, too.
Hometown: I reluctantly admit it is Boise, Idaho. It's OK if you laugh a little.
Insomnia: No, thank you. Haha. Yes, I have it all the time these days, which really sucks because historically I am not a troubled sleeper.
Job title: My "title" is Library Specialist. However, in reality I am but a lowly library assistant, with the salary to prove it.
Kids: No, thank you.
Living arrangements: Piddly dungeon of a one bedroom apartment in Arlington, which I share with my BF and cat.
Most admired trait: I don't know if this is supposed to be a trait most admired in myself or other people. I guess for both I would have to say a sense of humor, which I seem to be lacking more and more these days.
Number of sexual partners: As though I would say. However, I will tell you that it's a prime number.
Overnight hospital stays: None so far.
Phobias: Driving, getting hit by a car, and spiders.
Quote: "Fuck it, Dude. Let's go bowling." If you don't know what that's from, I don't think I care to be associated with you anymore. (Kidding. Sort of.)
Religion: None. Was raised Catholic. If I had a shred of faith left, I would still be Catholic.
Siblings: An older brother and older sister.
Time I usually wake up: 7:00 on days I go to the gym; 7:30 on non-gym days.
Unusual talent: None that I am aware of. I don't think I have any usual talents, either.
Vegetable I refuse to eat: Cucumbers. They taste like a fat lot of nothing, with maybe some talcum powder mixed in.
Worst habit: Being a gigantic pessimist, which apparently I get from my mother. Funny story: my mom had been going on and on about how the end times are coming, judgment day is near, I'm going to hell, yada yada yada. A little while later I said something about how I probably won't get a better paying job within the next year, and my mom says, "Oh, don't be such a pessimist!"
X-rays: I've had them for my teeth. That's pretty much it. I have incredibly durable bones.
Yummy foods I make: I can whip up a mean beef stew, and I make incredible no-bake chocolate oatmeal cookies (which I realize need a sexier name).
Zodiac sign: Aquarius. Unfortunately I exhibit none of the usual Aquarius characteristics like artsy-fartsyness, a carefree spirit, and a go-my-own-way attitude, but rather am militaristic in my slavish obedience to rules, am anal retentive, and am decidedly untalented in any artistic field of endeavor.
There. I'm tired. And by the way, no word yet on the private school. Apparently hell's temperatures are well away from freezing at this point.
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Stephen Colbert: A Man for All Seasons
In case you haven't heard by now, Stephen Colbert (of the famed "Colbert Report") gave a scathing, balls-out performance at the White House Correspondent's dinner the other night. I won't be able to say this any better than any of the other bloggers, but Oh. My. God. If you haven't seen it yet, you really need to watch it. The skit is really uncomfortable in spots but so worth it. He's basically doing the same thing he does every night on his show, only this time he does it RIGHT IN FRONT of the very people he satirizes. W. himself was sitting just a few feet away during the whole thing, and boy did he looked pissed off; the rest of the audience basically sat in silence throughout, apparently stunned that anyone would have the TRUTHINESS to actually say what the entire country is thinking, damn the consequences. You really have to give it to the guy. Oh yeah, and it was pretty damn funny too, even if much of the humor was of the "Oh my god I can't believe the Secret Service hasn't shot him yet" variety.
In other news, there is no other news. My parents are coming to visit this weekend, which should be a hootenany. Actually, I'm looking forward to it since I haven't seen them for a year and it will give me a break from the routine. Also, free meals (I'm hoping). Now I've become one of those blogs where I recount the mundane details of my day-to-day existence without bothering to wonder if anyone actually cares about things like my self-tanning incident-of-horror. (Don't worry, I won't bore you with the details except to say that no one, under any circumtances, should buy L'Oreal's self-tanning spray. It just isn't worth it.)
I will tell you, however, that I am currently reading Gilead by Marilynne Robinson, and it's one of those books where reading it makes you want to sit down and write. Or start of a book club just so you can talk about it with other people.
Which reminds me, going back to the mundane details of my existence, that I quit my book club recently. I just decided I wasn't getting enough out of it to make it worth my while to leave work an hour early once a month and make the trek into DC. I had originally started going because I thought I would be able to meet like-minded people and make some friends, but then the group got very large and stupid people started showing up, and the stupid people ended up dominating most of the conversations to the point where discussions devolved into the more intelligent members of the group trying to explain the finer points of literary criticism to the idiots. And plus the group kept picking books that I had already read or had no interest in reading, and one group member (albeit one of the club founders) kept pushing the Communist Manifesto and I'm sorry, I just don't want to spend my free time pouring over Karl Marx right now.
So I'm looking for another book club and thinking about joining a writing group, and meanwhile enjoying books of my own choosing, thank you very much.
In other news, there is no other news. My parents are coming to visit this weekend, which should be a hootenany. Actually, I'm looking forward to it since I haven't seen them for a year and it will give me a break from the routine. Also, free meals (I'm hoping). Now I've become one of those blogs where I recount the mundane details of my day-to-day existence without bothering to wonder if anyone actually cares about things like my self-tanning incident-of-horror. (Don't worry, I won't bore you with the details except to say that no one, under any circumtances, should buy L'Oreal's self-tanning spray. It just isn't worth it.)
I will tell you, however, that I am currently reading Gilead by Marilynne Robinson, and it's one of those books where reading it makes you want to sit down and write. Or start of a book club just so you can talk about it with other people.
Which reminds me, going back to the mundane details of my existence, that I quit my book club recently. I just decided I wasn't getting enough out of it to make it worth my while to leave work an hour early once a month and make the trek into DC. I had originally started going because I thought I would be able to meet like-minded people and make some friends, but then the group got very large and stupid people started showing up, and the stupid people ended up dominating most of the conversations to the point where discussions devolved into the more intelligent members of the group trying to explain the finer points of literary criticism to the idiots. And plus the group kept picking books that I had already read or had no interest in reading, and one group member (albeit one of the club founders) kept pushing the Communist Manifesto and I'm sorry, I just don't want to spend my free time pouring over Karl Marx right now.
So I'm looking for another book club and thinking about joining a writing group, and meanwhile enjoying books of my own choosing, thank you very much.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
Monday, May 01, 2006
Temps rise in short term, but will the cold snap return? Hell News at 10
Sweet Jesus, I'm tired today. I'm sitting here at work and cannot keep my eyes open. Seriously. I may have to go buy some sort of energy drink to make it through the day, even though I've already had about 30 oz. of caffeinated goodness so far. I was all jazzed up to try the new Tab Energy pink extravaganza-in-a-tin-can but they didn't carry it at the store I went to this morning so I settled for a Diet Dr. Pepper; obviously a mistake . My drowsiness might be from the allergy pill I took this morning, which for some reason doesn't seem to hit me until about mid-way through dosage cycle - in this case, 6 hours. I hope I don't fall over and injure myself somehow.
Anyway, this is the reason that I love Canadians and all things Canada-related.
Oh yeah, the headline obliquely (or not) refers to the fact that I haven't heard back from the school yet, but it's been less than a week since my interview so who knows. I will of course keep you updated as events warrant.
Anyway, this is the reason that I love Canadians and all things Canada-related.
Oh yeah, the headline obliquely (or not) refers to the fact that I haven't heard back from the school yet, but it's been less than a week since my interview so who knows. I will of course keep you updated as events warrant.
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