Just a few tips as pulled from today's experience in the recruiting department:

1. Write your your cover letter by hand on college-ruled paper with a blue Bic pen.

2. Use the word "pimp" at least one time on your resume.

3. When the recruiter calls you for an interview, forget that you even applied for the job.

4. Use an email address on your resume that includes the word "sexy" (e.g. lilsexymomma@yahoo.com, 2sexy4u@hotmail.com).

5. Make sure the outgoing voicemail message the recruiter hears includes music and the phrase "shake that (insert Biblical word for donkey)."

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Alright homies, you may be seated. Now listen up; this could get screedy.

So here we are in 2005 and after thirteen months of operating this little-known haven on the web, I've yet to fully state my intentions. And since I've had my fill of unsolicited advice from people who barely know me, it's probably about that time.

I've owned "nykola.com" since I was 19-years-old. In that time, it's evolved from absolutely nothing to the weblog you see today. Who knows where it will go tomorrow. I'm not on a quest to become the world's most popular blogger. That my friends, is what nerds do. And if I haven't made it abundantly clear, I am not a nerd.

"They" are.

I consider myself a fairly candid person. From the time I first told my babysitter that her breath stank until now, I've never been one to pull punches. Throughout the course of this site, I've shared my insights drawn from aspects of my life, my failures, my frustrations, my vulnerable times, and most importantly, my inability to hold my bladder on one very embarrassing occasion. There's only one other person that knew about that, and now you all know. You should feel special.

Honestly, that's just me. I write from the personal. I don't know any other way to write. Well, actually I do, but I don't like it, and when they make me do it, I get irritable. Yep, just like the bowels.

When a person shares about life, it's understandable that we might be inclined to think we know everything about that individual. You know, how said person ought to think, live life, write, pursue success, and all that other typical patronizing nonsense that accompanies being a "dumb" and inexperienced 23-year-old.

So what if I can't spell "definitely," me isn't borned yesterday.

Reading unsolicited advice is like eating chicken. You eat the meat and spit out the bones--unless you're Al Sharpton, because he definitely looks like somebody who eats chicken gristle. And boy do I have a pile of bones. I keep every single feedback email that I receive. The good, the bad, and the atrociously ugly. It could be masochistic, but I prefer to think of it as a subtle reminder of where I'm going. Cryptic, ignorant and spiteful emails could make a really good appendix of a book one day.

Continue reading "Requisite Monthly Rant: The State of the Blog Address">>>

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Throughout the course of my brief time as a writer, I've generally been able to pin "opponents" by brand. There's the "You're Too Young to Know Anything So Go Back and Finish College First" brand of people. There's also the "I Think You're an Uncle Tom, Coon, Sell-out Because You Talked Bad About Jesse Jackson And it Rubbed Me the Wrong Way" brand of people. Lastly, there's my personal favorite: the "I'm An Atheist and A Democrat and I Think You're Stooopid" brand of people. I am quite familiar with all these schools of thought. However, just when you think you're on top of your game, a new brand emerges. Well, somewhat new to me at least. Earlier this summer, I was introduced to what appears to be the most dangerous of all the brands of opposition: the "I'm a Republican and Am Therefore by Default Righteous and Moral" people. Boy does this one open up a can of worms. These people are dangerous because they are deceived.

For whatever reason (personal attachment perhaps), quite a few individuals have taken umbrage with the fact that A) I am not a Republican and B) I refuse to believe that the sun shines out of the Republican Party's posterior. That said, I feel the need to make something clear: being a Republican does not equate to righteousness or morality any more than being a member of a particular denomination makes someone a follower of Jesus Christ. Republicans are not the saviors of the world; they're not even the saviors of the government. They are a political party capable of wrongdoing like anyone else.

What's more disturbing to me is our society's definition of "Conservatism". Look, I don't pretend to be an expert on these things, but the face of Conservatism in America is in my most humble opinion, sketchy. I say this because from one person to the next, there are a zillion different brands of what it means to profess "Conservative values". It's almost cringe-worthy.

These days, people should be apprehensive about calling themselves any political title with all the poor and confusing representations out there for the naked eye to see.

Continue reading "The Requisite Monthly Rant: for the record, Republican doesn't equal "Moral" or "Righteous"">>>

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I respect authority in many forms: God-given, parental, spiritual, governmental, you name it. I was raised to respect those with authority over me and I truly appreciate those who serve to ensure my safety on a consistent basis.

That said, despite a number of circumstances that should determine I do the opposite, I even respect police officers. However, I must say, my patience is wearing thin.

I would be lying if I said that all of my encounters with law enforcement have been positive. They haven't been. In reality, the fact that I have even had multiple experiences is sad enough, but what's worse is how mind numbingly irritating and humiliating 75% of my encounters have been. If you've even read one week's worth of content on this site, you know me, and it's clear I'm not into crying "victimhood". Similarly, I'm not generally prone to jump on the "black injustice" bandwagon, so forgive me in advance, but today I am completely frustrated with law enforcement, their pre-conceived notions of who the "criminals" are, and their completely self-regulatory nature and extreme lack of checks and balances.

If you want to know why I have a hesitancy to co-sign on the "racial profiling is a really good thing" declaration? Because I have zero convictions that the aforementioned statement is either true or ethical. Experience has led me to believe that our enforcement of it is highly, and I mean highly suspect.

To put it bluntly, I am taxpaying citizen with absolutely no criminal record, moving violations, let alone even an overdue library book who is quite sick and tired, and tired of being sick (and tired too) of being pulled over, harassed, and spoken to like I have zero intelligence by some of the low-life power tripping insecure ninnies that call themselves police officers. It is getting ridiculous.

Continue reading "Requisite Monthly Rant: The Point at Which I Pull that "Race" Mumbo Jumbo">>>

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[ Real world stream of consciousness... ]
Despite my fond affection for all types of meat and militant stance on my right to eat hamburgers and ribs, I eat tofu on occasion and I actually like it. Blame it on the vegetarians; I do. I own more than 70 pairs of shoes, 50% of which are black, and yet I still want more. Tell me that's not excess. I hate cats and pigeons, but I'll tolerate kittens. This is because I have a guilty conscience about a bad incident I once had with a kitten, God rest her soul..er, body. I will forever contend that all dogs go to heaven, despite sufficient Biblical defense, and any smattering of evidence that it might be true because well, I wanna see "Sadie" again. Plus I'm just stubborn. On occasion, I want to get up in the face of the career Seattle panhandlers and yell, "GET A JOB!" Despite my lack of vocal talent, when I'm driving I pretend that I am a very good singer. A virtue and a vice is that I have no shame. I talk myself through the process of killing spiders because when it comes to bugs, the girl in me comes out. The onset of this occurs when I search the house for my "cheap shoes" because I don't want spider guts on the soles of my Kenneth Cole boots. I've slobbered on more than one occasion in the middle of very profound discourse and professional business presentations. My skill level allows me to do this and still completely recover. I have an unopened can tuna in the glove compartment of my car for reasons beyond me. I don't remove it because I've yet to figure out why it's there. Again, stubborn. I think very bad thoughts about "Christians" with Jesus fish and WWJD bumper stickers who cut me off in traffic. Way to drive like a Christian, "jerk"; then I repent, sort of. I think pop-ups are evil. Breathmints should be a pre-requisite for those who wish to enter the teaching profession. I spend entirely too much time watching television. On most days, I'll defend my nonexistent right to do so. Generally, I don't like formalized reading but I do it because I, "have to". School forever ruined books, but knowledge is better than ignorance. I'm good at making lists, but bad at checking them off. I get distracted by insight and profundity. This can be bad. I can do a very good impression of a white girl. If allowed, I'd put that on my resume. I am predisposed to think that all dentists are evil--except my grandfather, who's just old. I think white people wearing dreadlocks is a singularly BAD idea. I am a tall short person. Call me idealistic, but I think women should shave under their arms. Period. I can argue points that are utterly ridiculous. I hate doing the dishes. I wish the makers of Aleve would pay me to endorse their product. I think Danielle Steele is a man. I think Kevin Spacey is a woman. Politics generally bore me, but my take on politics cracks me up. I am my own best audience. I read "Us magazine" in the grocery store check-out line because it frees me up from "thinking". I think I'm way cooler than I am. I would shop at Wal-Mart but the presence of too many ignorant people shouting at once is more than I can bear. The fact that I think this probably means I'm an elitist, but I'm not. My name is still cooler than yours, feminism sucks, vote Bush and please use deodorant.

Past Monthly Rants:
- My Issues With Air Travel
- The Point at Which I Worship the Wonders of Vicodin
- The State of the Nation
- Politics

Posted in Life, Requisite Monthly Rant | Permanent Link

 

Air travel in this country can sometimes be a joke (in the best and worst possible sense of the word). It didn't just change two years ago. It's always been a little shaky if you ask me.

I've probably done more travel in my lifetime than I'd prefer to admit. I'm not sure why, but for whatever reason a good percentage of my short 22 years have been spent on airplanes. And I mean a GOOD percentage. The longest flights I've ever been on were somewhere between 16-18 hours from London, England to somewhere in Southern Africa (it's all a blur after your feet have swelled to the size of two steroid-injected watermelon) with the ultimate destination being Zimbabwe. The shortest? Well, those flights usually take place on commuter jets that statistically seem 50% more likely to crash and generally sound like their propellers are being held together by duct tape and safety-pins.

For the long flights, suprisingly, 16 hours in a confined breathing space with people who could care less about how much "pillow room" you have isn't as bad as it sounds. I've been on 16, 9, 6, even 4 and 5 hour flights. None of which were ever that bad if you ask me. But nothing, I repeat nothing is as bad as a 2.6599999 hour flight. The tragedy of my wimpy attention span not being entertained by some cheesy in-flight movie or horrendous airplane food is magnified on the typical short flight. I preface with this bit of navel-gazing to say I think I'm fairly qualified and justified to rant generalizations about flying.

Continue reading "Requisite Monthly Rant IV: My Issues With Air Travel">>>

Posted in Life, Requisite Monthly Rant | Permanent Link

 

Sometimes, life just pokes you. Life's little pokes run the gamut of expression. They manifest in major disappointments, setbacks, strained relationships, and both physical as well as emotional pain. We all know that pain can sometimes be good. It reminds us we're still alive and human. Pain also stretches us, gives us fortitude and helps us to grow in this grand thing we call life. There are hundreds of flowery words and deep insights we can give pain, but let's just be honest, sometimes it stinks. The stinkage of pain is far more pungent than the aroma of its virtues.

I spent the first two days of this week wallowing in the depths of my own extreme and total pitifulness, writhing in insane pain. This "good" pain I speak of was not what I was experiencing this time around. No, this was bad pain. This was very bad pain. This was the make-you-want-to-slap somebody type pain. This was that pain that keeps you up at all hours of the night, thanking hallucinations of Nick-at-Nite executives for producing another Cosby Show marathon, sleeping on the couch because you never made it to the bed, and counting the dots on the popcorn ceiling because it takes too much energy and focus to close your eyes to sleep and that "energy" would be better spent wide-awake fighting off the evil pain monsters that haunt in the night. This is also the pain that would graciously allow very enticing opportunities like, "Hey let's go shoe-shopping, all-expenses paid, my treat!" to ease on down the road. This was the pain that kept a wordy writer such as myself silent for two days.

Continue reading "Requisite Monthly Rant III: The Point At Which I Worship the Wonders of Vicodin">>>

Posted in Life, Requisite Monthly Rant | Permanent Link

 

Sometimes I absolutely, unequivocally detest Americans. And I "are" one. I'm not quite able to put my finger on what it is that upsets me so. I think it is our arrogance and self-righteous attitude that grates on every one of my nerves. Stay with me as I might ramble here, but that is the very nature of a rant. I work in the city and a simple walk through downtown Seattle is very revealing of the culture in which we live. On a ten minute stroll, a person may see a number of things: panhandlers talking on their cell phones; abrasive Christians proselytizing on street corners; Greenpeace lackeys handing out "save the whales" literature; a non-profit organization staging a peaceful protest/demonstration against war; a group of wannabe gangsters skipping school; a skateboarder coming down a steep hill against traffic with no helmet on. Every single one of these things are the result of a society that allows you to do whatever the heck you want with hardly to no consequences. This is America folks--the land of opportunity; flowing with milk and honey I suppose. Albeit far from the Babylonianesque Amsterdam, America carries with it liberties like none other. These are liberties I myself enjoy on a daily basis, however many of these same liberties have produced in us every kind of bad thing possible.

I struggle with the idea of democracy because I don't think it's the best way to run the country. (She cries heresy!) However, being that I live in a democracy, I am going to milk it for all it's worth. If there's an election, I'm voting. People who don't vote in this country should not be complaining about much of anything as it relates to politics. Things do not change via osmosis. Get your lazy butt up and do something. Stop blaming the president for your lack of personal discipline. We have far too many choices in this country. Have you tried buying cereal lately? There are like 162 different kinds of name brand cereal alone. While we're on excess, last year, while entertaining my uncle from Zimbabwe, we stopped to visit Barnes & Noble bookstore at his request. He was dumbfounded at the number of books in that store. Anybody can publish a book in the United States. You don't even have to be half-way intelligent or integrous. Have you heard of Karyn Bosnack? A couple of years ago she ran herself into deep credit card debt via high shopping sprees and a severe addiction to Prada bags. Desperate to pay her bills, she started a website called SaveKaryn.com where she pleaded with complete strangers to send her money to get her out of debt. Sickening I know, but it gets worse. People actually sent money! Her story made it onto the Today show and other network news shows. She is now debt-free and got a book deal out of this whole ordeal. Her book Save Karyn: One Shopaholic's Journey to Debt and Back, was released last year. Only in the USA folks, only in the red white and blue. It doesn't take much to get a book deal it seems. I am reminded of a quote from the movie Good Will Hunting, where the title character remarked, "You people spend all this money on these fancy books, and you surround yourself with the wrong books." Ditto. Having too many options has plagued this country. First it's cereal, then it's gender. How did we jump from two options (Male or Female) to six? Too much choice. This is the era of "choose-your-own-adventure!" I nearly vomited when I saw a preview for an episode of Oprah where they were actually endorsing a 6-year old boy's right to want to be a girl. Once again moral relativism rears its ugly head.

Choice is a wonderful thing, but man was never created to be his own God. I fear we've done that in more ways than one. We actually think we call the shots in this whole deal. Want an abortion? Sure! After all, it is your choice. And I might add, it's a choice of which no one ever tells the lifelong consequences of regret, shame and guilt. I think what bothers me the most about Americans is that we think we're entitled to something huge and yet we're such a small part of the total work being done on this Earth. Sometimes I just think we need to pause and realize that the sun doesn't rise and set on our very existence. We thought the 9-11 attack was the worst thing that has ever happened in the history of civilization simply because it happened to us. Let's grow up here. I do not diminish the vulgarity and wickedness of what took place, but we have perpetuated this idea of "false liberties" and let's set the record straight folks: "tomorrow ain't promised to no one baby".

The general population of the United States actually thinks they're "free". I can't think of a more warped view of freedom than that held by Americans, some of the most bound and mentally oppressed people you will ever meet. Here we talk about "depression" as though it were a normal occurrence and people chat about their anti-depressant cocktails like girlfriends chat about clothes and shoes. Here in America, we push fashion retailers to start carrying "plus-size" children's clothing because our kids are just getting too fat. Forget the fact that Flammin' Hot Cheetos and Sprite Remix are carried strategically in specific corner stores near public elementary schools in urban communities. We just need bigger clothing right? Here we dismiss college, teenage, (and now middle school) binge-drinking as part of a growing trend or popular culture instead of recognizing the emptiness of an entire generation.

The blame game gets old and so do the excuses. We have created a monster out of ourselves. A monster of privilege, choice, free-will, moral relativism, and self-idolatry. Yet, Americans are the same people who will sit around the pity table, shaking collective heads, wondering what's happening to our community. Well I'm getting out my violin to play for you because I don't want to hear another sad story. Before we try to put our mouths on every other country in the world, we need to deal with what's going on at home first because we are far from having it all together. This has nothing to do with George W. Bush, a person who has far less authority and power than the average ultra-liberal would confess. Call your local congressman for goodness sake.

And lastly, to you people over there laying down on 6th avenue with white sheets and fake blood, I say how lovely must it be to frolic around the streets carelessly protesting war and whatnot. I am certain that it is nice to be a college graduate doing absolutely nothing, living from your daddy's trust fund. But you're blocking the street. Please move out of my way, so we can cross it to go to work. There are people with better things to do with their time. People with jobs.

Posted in Culture, Culture, Requisite Monthly Rant | Permanent Link

 

I never thought I would say it, but I think I hate Wal-Mart. This weekend, on two occasions, I had to enter the doors of a place I used to love but have now come to detest. Immensely.

No I haven't jumped on the bandwagon of Wal-Mart hatred that has become so trendy lately amongst the anti-establishment and anti-anything-that-makes-money trustafarians. In fact, I get rather irritated by those who mouth off about how much they hate Wal-Mart and use things like "unfair labor practices" and "big business" as a smokescreen for the fact that they really desipse how much money Wal-Mart is making. Well, I am not one of those people.

I actually once enjoyed shopping at Wal-Mart. During my freshman year of college, I probably dropped a good $800+ there on dorm trimmings alone. Wal-Mart is a college student's dream. Always low prices. Always. My distaste for Wal-Mart is soley based on the fact that I feel like I'm responding to a cattle call every time I go there. Wal-Mart is not just a store. It is an experience.

If you're planning on visiting Wal-Mart anytime soon, be certain you pray first. You need to be covered in prayer--lots of intense prayer. For myself, I'd add a little fasting too. Fasting is necessary if you have trouble restraining yourself from telling dense people how stupid they are. Pray for patience. You'll need that right away. Like, before you even go into the store.

Patience comes in handy in the parking lot. Parking is no problem if you don't mind a 25 minute wait for a spot. Call me silly, but I mind. I think I almost had an out of body experience once when this guy in a Toyota Corolla maliciously stole my spot. Is there a nice way to call someone a jerk? Probably best just to say, "God Bless You".

When you do finally find a spot, bring some trail mix, a sherpa, and a compass to find your way to the store. I usually have to trek a good quarter of a mile just to get to from my car to the building, where I am immediately accosted by the annoying people-botherers trying to get me to sign some petition for teacher's rights or register to vote. I usually inform said soliciters that I don't sign any petitions without first reading them and I don't care how good "teacher's rights" sounds, I'm not about to slap my name on some "petition" and have it come out one day when I'm running for president of the NAACP, that I signed a petition to eliminate funding for some afterschool program.

When you enter into the circus they call Wal-Mart, you are promptly greeted by 87 shopping carts missing owners, bitter customer service representatives and a McDonalds. This is a recipe for disaster. The phrases, "Excuse me" and "Pardon me" and "Move your big behind out of the way please" become a huge part of your lexicon. These phrases can be said up to two dozen times as one maneuvers their way through crowds of people bottlenecking at the clearance shelf.

Oh look! A new "Atkins drink" for sale, I notice. What a racket.

Oooh look! There's a commotion over at the "two for $11.99" DVD bin!

Everytime I shop at Wal-Mart I feel less like a human being and more like an animal. This is nothing against Sam Walton or his entire rich and lovely family. I wouldn't mind holding stock in such a company. Although, while I was once a vigilant defender of Wal-Mart, I am becoming more convinced that they are partly responsible for perpetuating the lower-class citizen mentality that decends upon every customer who steps foot in their doors.

I try to fight it. I know I am a person raised with pretty good manners, but after about 10 minutes, I am ready to start pushing and shoving my way into the toilet-paper sale aisle just like everyone else.

Then there is the improper use of the intercom system. OH the improper use of the intercom!

"Kendra, calling Kendra, you need to get to the customer service desk now! This is the third time we've asked you! Get over here right now Kendraaaaaaaaaa!"

Please stop that. It's agitating. Now I'm no expert, but I'm pretty certain the loudspeaker should not be used for chastizing other employees. That seems pretty tacky. But wait a minute, this is Wal-Mart.

The intercom ignorance is onl exacerbated by the seemingly trillions of children that have been separated from a parent.

"Attention Wal-Mart shoppers, there is a 6-year-old boy wearing a read shirt at the customer service desk that can't find his mother. If you are his mother, please come get him"

Twenty minutes later, same announcement, same kid. Um, could it be that people go to Wal-Mart with the specific intention of losing their children? As if to say, "Oops! Even though I can't find my child, I thought they were talking about the other 6-year-old boy wearing the red shirt." Child abandoners? I think so. Still, if you can manage to drown out the igorance on the intercom, you should be okay.

That is, until you get to the checkout stand--the pinnacle of the Wal-Mart experience. This is where all civility and common decency are completely lost and your true character is put to the test. This is the place that can break a weak-minded individual. This is the place where you must inform "Miss Independent" in the hot pink shirt that she has just cut you in the line. At this point, "Miss Independent" is highly likely to turn around and cuss you out and say things to you even your own mother wouldn't say. Be strong. Don't let her cut you. Once you've staked out your spot in line, you can't rest easy yet.

Chances are, your "brilliant idea" to get into the "10 items or less Express Line" will turn out to be not-so-brilliant when you realize that most people in line have approximately 67 items. Apparently, most folks don't read signs or count. Or even worse, don't read at all.

My end purchase of a whopping $20.19 makes me wonder if it was even worth it. Apparently millions of people think it is. They keep shopping. Maybe it's just Seattle Wal-Marts. Yeah, that must be it.

Posted in Life, Requisite Monthly Rant | Permanent Link | Comments { 14 }

 

So I was off at a seminar and managed to miss President Bush's press conference last night. I attempted to read the transcript this morning, but found that as much as I like our dear George W., he's more interesting in person and I could not grunt my way through the g-force of that dull transcript. The man's not exactly eloquent. Thank goodness leadership doesn't rest entirely on eloquence of speech. Although if it did, Condoleeza Rice would have the past 43 presidents in a headlock. If I left it up to the morning network news, at this point I'd be thoroughly convinced our President, along with his wicked cronies are all satan incarnate and out to completely massacre the lives of every innocent young person (forced to join the military of course) for their own political gain, and you'd better be certain some republican is secretly getting a fat loot being promised by the conspiracy against John Kerry, who by the way is a model citizen and the antithesis of our lame president. Good thing I don't listen to the network morning news.

And to think that people had the nerve to be in uproar about American Idol being pre-empted last night for the president's address. That's perhaps a pulse on the values of many in this country. And let us not forget the fact that just this past weekend, Saturday Night Live was able to pull itself out of the quagmire of low ratings by bringing on none other than Miss Washed Up herself, Janet Jackson. Yes folks, this is the reward you get for public indecency and slutty behavior in America, you get to host SNL, sing very badly, and still have people buy your trashy record Damita Joe. So we'll be disgusted, and call CBS blasphemous, and then we'll be the same ones responsible for SNL's highest rated show in years. Who are these Nielson people anyway and why aren't they tapping my television set? Send them to my house, I'll show them a thing or two.

Meanwhile, the 9/11 commission proves yet that this whole trial is more about political gain and less about getting the facts on the table. I like how Baldilocks refers to the members of the Bush administration being raked over the coals of "Damned-if-you-do Damned-if-you-don't standards". Well, I suppose that's the life of anyone who even veers from the extreme left. Even though Condoleeza Rice peed all over the 9/11 commission (that's a theatre phrase), people will still publicly (behind the safetynet of a blog) call her things like "whore". So Janet Jackson is a model citizen fine for primetime, but Condi Rice is a whore? The core of my being has been offended by ignorance.

Posted in Politics, Requisite Monthly Rant | Permanent Link