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Skype your way to success

February 26, 2015 by Beth

2013.09.27.skype-conversationsDear Job Seeker:

If things go well at the job fair, the next step might be a Skype interview. Auntie Beth is here to help.

Auntie Beth’s Top Five Tips for Acing the Skype Interview:

  1. Use a professional handle. Use your name or an appropriate variation (e.g., WriterBeth). (You can save “HoochieMama12” for your chats with friends.)
  2. Art direct your space. Find an appropriate location that looks professional. A home office is a good spot. A garage with recycling bins behind you is not.
  3. Troubleshoot your equipment. Run tests with friends or family to make sure everything is working properly. Set up your laptop/iPad/computer on a stable surface that is eye level. Don’t even think about holding your iPad in your hands for the interview.
  4. Dress appropriately. Wear interview attire. Just because you might be at home doesn’t mean professional dress doesn’t apply. Don’t try to disguise sweats by wrapping yourself in a big scarf. Have some sense!
  5. Remember that this is a bona fide interview. For the love of all that is holy, do not take your laptop into the kitchen to make a sandwich during the interview. (True story, says Auntie Beth.) Look into the camera and answer questions the way you would in an in-person interview.

May the bandwidth be ever in your favor,
Beth

 

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Fair thee well, Job Seekers!

February 23, 2015 by Beth

'I'd like a job as a job creator so I can create an easy, high paying job for myself.'

Dear Job Seeker:

Auntie Beth is here with more advice to help you get a job. This is the first of a three-part series on interviewing: Making the Most of the Job Fair, Acing the Skype Interview, and Sealing the Deal in the In-person Interview.

Auntie Beth’s Top Five Tips for Making the Most of the Job Fair:

  1. Do your research. Find out which companies will be at the job fair and what jobs are open. Tailor your résumé to fit each position you want.
  2. Come prepared. Based on your research, make a list of what positions are open where and which résumé fits. (Type A people, this is where you can color-code some folders!) Put your tailored résumés in a proper carrier, such as a nice leather bag. Do not shove them in a ratty North Face backpack.
  3. Dress for success. Wear proper interview attire. Do not wear jeans and a hoodie to a job fair. (This seems like common sense to Auntie Beth, but you’d be surprised at what she has seen with her very own eyes.)
  4. Be ready for an impromptu interview. If company representatives like what they see in your résumé, they will want to talk to you right then. Formulate responses to key questions. Auntie Beth was shocked recently when a candidate simply wanted to drop off a résumé at a booth and was not prepared to be interviewed that moment. It’s a job fair, people — that’s why you are there!
  5. Talk to everyone. Even if companies you are interested in do not have a job open that is right for you, talk to representatives anyway. Give them a résumé. Let them know what kind of job you would be suited for in their organization. If you are personable and seem like the right fit for the company, chances are good that they will remember you later. Don’t forget to ask for business cards and follow up with a nice note.

Doing well at the job fair may be the difference between being gainfully employed or being 35 years old, eating a steady diet of government cheese, thrice divorced, and living in a van down by the river!

Yours in motivation,
Auntie Beth

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New USPS slogan: Infuriating people the world over.*

January 15, 2015 by Beth

E78PostOffice
Dear USPS deciders-in-chief:

I avoid the Fahm Street branch of the U.S. Postal Service in Savannah because the agents working there are always so unpleasant. Today was by far the worst “service” I’ve ever experienced. What follows is exactly what happened to Eddie, the kids and me today when we arrived for our passport renewal appointment referenced in my last post.

Scene: Two women working the counter. Each has a customer. I am the next person in line.

Woman 1: (Nametag covered by sweater) Can I help you?
Me: I’m here to renew a child’s and an adult’s passport.
Woman 1: (Looks at me blankly for at least five seconds while I look back. It lasts so long that I begin to wonder if I had actually spoken words to her.) The child doesn’t have to be here to renew the passport.

(This seems like an odd thing to say. It doesn’t change my reason for standing in front of her.)

Me: Yes, he actually does, along with both parents.
Woman 2 (to Woman 1): (As if we are not standing there) Do they have an appointment?
Woman 1 (to me): Do you have an appointment?
Me: Yes, at 2:15.
Woman 1: (Sighs and goes to get a book from the back then returns to the counter) Your name?
Me: Concepción
Woman 1: (Looks at me as if my name is an affront to all that she values in life, then looks at the book again) What’s that name?
Me: Concepción. C-O-N-C-E-P-C-I-O-N. 2:15 today.
Woman 1: (Apparently finding my name) Wait over there or in the chairs. It doesn’t matter. She’ll be with you in a moment.
Me: Who will be with me?
Woman 1: (Indicates Woman 2 with her head)

Waiting commences. We watch Woman 1 be unfriendly to four more customers. Woman 2 finishes passport paperwork for her customer.

Woman 2: (To the whole lobby, even though we are standing four feet in front of her and facing her) Concepción!
Me: I have a child and adult passport renewal.
Woman 2: (Nametag reads “Mrs. B. Mobley”) We don’t do adult renewals here.
Me: (Smiling and trying to be friendly) OK, but I can mail it from here.
Mrs. B. Mobley: (Looks at me in a hostile manner) Yes.

I hand her my materials. She looks at Dominic’s photo.

Mrs. B. Mobley: This photo is not the right format. The face is too close. Our camera is broken. You can send it in anyway and see if they contact you.
Me: I followed the instructions on the U.S. Department of State website …
Mrs. B. Mobley: (Cutting me off) That is not my concern. I asked you if you wanted to send it in as is and see if they process it or contact you for a different photo.
Me: (Noting her condescending tone and reflecting my dissatisfaction with a tightness around my eyes and mouth) Yes. I want to send it in.

She fills out paperwork while I make sure Eddie’s renewal paperwork is in order. In a very clipped tone, she requests various things such as signatures, a check for the renewal, and a $25 processing fee (!). (I have to pay for the five minutes it takes to have this paperwork processed by a surly employee?)

Me: (After watching how she attaches Dominic’s photo to the application) May I borrow your stapler? (She hands it to me with a sigh.) I just put it on like you just did?
Mrs. B. Mobley: (No answer. Just a nasty look.)
Me: (Thinking “Why you gotta be so mean?“) How much is the renewal fee for adults?
Mrs. B. Mobley: $110.
Me: And I just put this all in an envelope and send it off? There’s nothing else?
Mrs. B. Mobley: (Still condescending) That’s how it works.

She finalizes Dominic’s paperwork. I finalize Eddie’s and mail it off. The process is over, thankfully. This is 20 minutes of perhaps the worst customer service I’ve ever experienced.

Do you deliberately seek the most ill-natured people you can find for your customer service positions? These two women have no business dealing with the public.

Look, we all know the USPS is in trouble and hemorrhaging money. Don’t you think you could help your situation by improving customer service? Stop advertising and start improving the experience for the people who are paying you. It’s your only hope!

Screen Shot 2015-01-15 at 3.27.38 PM

I would rather gnaw off my own arm than go to the Fahm Street location again. There are other passport locations. For my mail needs, I’ll continue using my local post office. The people are inept, but at least they are nice.

Sincerely,
Beth

*apologies to Holiday Inn

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New USPS slogan: You work hard so we don’t have to.

January 9, 2015 by Beth

67517_600Dear USPS deciders-in-chief:

I think I know why the USPS is in trouble.

  1. I went to my local post office to mail Christmas cards at the beginning of December. They did not have any holiday stamps. None. What’s up with that?
  2. In the middle of December, I requested a mail hold for a three-day span. Two days after it expired, I still had not received my mail. I called my local post office to find out the mail’s whereabouts. The woman on the phone seemed to have no understanding of how the online mail hold request system worked, no idea where my mail was, or how to reach my carrier. She said they don’t have cell phone numbers for carriers because they are not allowed to contact them while they are out. Um … what?!?
  3. I needed to mail a package to my brother-in-law at the end of December. My local post office printed a label for Priority Mail at a cost of $55. Shocked by that price, I balked. The woman told me that there was nothing she could do because she already printed the postage sticker. I had to pay the price.

Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.
— inscription on the James Farley Post Office in New York City

Yeah, well, crappy management might.
— Beth, consumer

Is this just December craziness or evidence of a larger problem? I’m inclined to choose the latter because of this:

I need to renew Dominic’s passport. As he is a minor, he must come in person to an authorized passport location, along with Eddie and me. There are only two post offices in Savannah where you can renew minor passports: The main post office on Fahm Street and the Eisenhower branch.

The process took fewer than five minutes last time. The agent had to look at the identification for all three of us and sign the form.

Yet now you require an appointment. An appointment! And when I called to make this appointment, I couldn’t get one for three weeks. Really?!? Is that your bright idea or does it belong to some genius at the U.S. Department of State?

Also, there are no Saturday appointments, so that means I have to pull Dominic out of school, and Eddie and I have to take off work to go to this appointment. Brilliant.

If you’d like to stay in business, you might want to consider customer needs a bit more. Just a thought!

Sincerely,
Beth

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Santa brought me new friends

December 30, 2014 by Beth

/home/wpcom/public_html/wp-content/blogs.dir/ce2/9591348/files/2014/12/img_9412.jpg

Dear Moms of My Sons’ Friends:

I admit I felt trepidation about meeting you. It was like a blind date, and the person setting it up was Great Aunt Bertie who has the sugars and farts like the Beefareeno horse in “Seinfeld.”

My sons love your sons and want to be with them all the time.

But what if I thought you were pretentious or annoying?

What if I hated you?

What if you hated me?

Following blind dating rules, we agreed to meet in a neutral place: Monkey Joe’s. The skating rink. Bowling.

We shyly introduced ourselves. We talked about neutral topics such as the school our boys attend. You laughed at one of my sarcastic remarks.

I dared to hope there was more where that came from.

We became Facebook friends. The boys and I came over to your house. Or you and your boys came over to mine. The kids had sleepovers. We updated each other via text or photos via Messenger.

We used each other as a touchstone for normalcy: “Yeah? ME TOO!”

Suddenly, we were making plans independent of the boys. They didn’t need to ask to get together because we already were.

During this holiday season when you are doing so much for everyone else, let me take a moment of your time to tell you how much I appreciate you for being you. For being cool. For being my friend too.

Love,
Beth

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Celebrity spotting: Home edition

December 10, 2014 by Beth

Photo by Eric Ray Davidson for EW

Photo by Eric Ray Davidson for EW

Dear Jason Bateman, Charlie Day and Jason Sudeikis,

I read with interest the piece Anthony Breznican wrote about you and “Horrible Bosses 2” for the Nov. 28 issue of Entertainment Weekly. Breznican apparently conducted the interview on the rooftop of the Beverly Hilton Hotel. I stayed at that remarkable hotel for one night in October. When I saw the location, I had four thoughts:

  1. I didn’t know the Beverly Hilton had a rooftop terrace.
  2. I still feel oily for taking a photo of the room number of the suite where Whitney Houston died.
  3. It would have been great to see you in the lobby when I was there instead of Fred Willard — not that he isn’t fantastic in his own right.
  4. It’s probably best I didn’t because I might have run over and dorkily asked you all over to my house for dinner and a round of Cards Against Humanity.

When I told Eddie about all that, he fixated on No. 4 and said:

Oooh … can we invite Pharrell and Shaq too?

In theory, this is a great idea: Hang out with celebrities at our house. In reality, if this were to happen, I might have a panic attack similar to the one I had when Eddie threatened to invite his buddy Bobby Deen for dinner. I like to cook, but I’m not sure I want to cook for a chef. (Just thinking about it makes me want to breathe into a paper bag.)

Also, my friend Ken Griner said it is usually a mistake to meet your idols because sometimes they turn out to be jerks.

I can’t imagine that would be the case with you three. I’m willing to take my chances, potential for panic notwithstanding.

If you are interested, have your people call my people. “My people” being me, of course. Nothing rarefied here.

We’ll have fun, I promise.

Awaiting your RSVP,
Beth

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Choose benevolence over blame

November 21, 2014 by Beth

Dear Fellow Humans,

I know it’s been a rough couple of days for Joshua Powell’s friends and family. I haven’t felt too great myself. I’ve been thinking about Joshua almost every minute. Images flash constantly in my mind: his black mesh backpack, the collar of his green school shirt, that math book, his pale wrists. I feel pain as acutely as if I were part of his family.

WTOC shared a photograph.

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Look at his sweet face. You know he had a great personality. I just can’t bear it that he’s gone.

I also can’t bear all the comments people have been posting on the stories about the accident: allotting blame to the driver, the bus company, the city and — worst of all — his parents.

This has to stop.

When did we become a society so quick to assign blame? Has this always been a standard reaction and I just never noticed?

It was an accident. A tragedy. A horrible mistake. No one did anything out of malice or ill will.

I get it: It’s easier to process if we can find someone at fault. We need a scapegoat. But we should be outraged that it happened, not outraged and finding someone to blame.

Yes, perhaps that area should be marked better for drivers to know that it is a school bus stop. Yes, kids need to look both ways before crossing the street. But I have two kids and I know sometimes they don’t think; they just do.

My boys have done some crazy things. I’m lucky something like this hasn’t happened to them.

What his family needs — what we all need as humans — is love and support. Save the rage and the holier-than-thou attitude.

Anger has not been the top emotion cycling through me for the past two days. Overwhelming sadness takes that spot.

I was a daily news reporter for many years, covering the cop and court beat. I saw many awful things. This beats everything, probably because now I’m a mom. It’s different now.

I feel cut open and raw. I can’t even imagine how his mom feels.

Even now, though, I can tell my mind is trying to pack this memory away — to compartmentalize it with the other painful memories of things that cannot be unseen. I’m reminded of the ending of “Raiders of the Lost Ark.”

But part of me wants to keep the box open, the wound fresh as a reminder to love, to connect, to support. And this is why I’m writing this post.

We humans must choose compassion over criticism. We are all in this life together. We must do this for Joshua, who is gone too soon.

This is my therapy. This is my call to arms. This is what I will teach my children.

Sorry (not sorry) for being preachy,
Beth

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Life can change in a second

November 19, 2014 by Beth

Dear Parents,

Hug your children a little tighter today. There are parents in pain because they lost their son this morning.

I was taking my boys to school and came upon an accident seconds after it happened. Quick assessment of the scene: woman in the street on her phone, bus coming out of a neighborhood on my left, one car in front of me. Around that car, I could see someone’s feet. The way the person was lying there, I knew it was bad. No one had gone to help, even though there were people at the scene.

I parked the car, grabbed a blanket from my trunk, told my boys to stay in the car, and headed over. It was a little boy, not much older than Dominic. He was lying facedown and his shoes had been knocked off. He was wearing shorts on this very cold morning. I covered his legs and body with the blanket.

The woman who hit him was on the phone with 911. She was screaming and crying — begging me to find a pulse. His wrists were cold. I couldn’t find any movement. He was wearing two hoodies, and I tried to get my fingers under them to feel his neck. His neck was warm. I thought maybe I felt a faint pulse. I couldn’t be sure. His left hand had some skin missing but he wasn’t bleeding.

The other people at the scene came over. A neighbor ran up and asked if we knew who he was. None of us did. We didn’t want to turn him over to see his face because we didn’t want to hurt him more. The lady checked the backpack he was wearing and got his name off his school papers. I saw a math book. A green notebook. She said his name: Joshua Powell. She went to find his parents.

I rubbed his cold hand as we waited for the emergency responders. I knew he might already be gone but I asked him to hold on just in case.

The fire truck was the first to arrive. They took over. The police and paramedics were next.

There was nothing else for me to do but go back to the car. My poor boys were in shock. I gave them each a hug and a kiss and told them what I saw. What I knew. What I thought. We cried a little together.

Joshua died before he even got to the hospital. My heart hurts for his family and the lady who hit him. They will never be the same. Neither will I.

Give your children a little extra squeeze for me. Say it’s for Joshua.

Love to you all,
Beth

Posted in Parenting | Tagged | 6 Comments »

Night of the Living Dead LIVE and IN PERSON

November 7, 2014 by Beth

Dear Men:

I am so angry right now. I need to vent. Why?

Because you don’t live in fear of being attacked and raped like women do. It is a part of our lives and it sucks.

Tonight I had a scary encounter as I walked back from having dinner at a delightful Ethiopian restaurant. (Side note: One of the perks of my constant travel is that I can eat where I want to eat. I can’t ever find anyone who will eat Ethiopian food with me. Eddie said the bread reminds him of human skin.)

My friends know me as a tough chick. I am well traveled and rarely afraid. Of course, I don’t put myself in risky situations either.

I learned the hard way that women are easy targets after one night in college when I was assaulted in downtown Atlanta. So I know to be on guard.

After dinner tonight, I walked back to my hotel on a bright, heavily trafficked street. An older gentleman who appeared to be drunk walked toward me. When I passed, he turned around and followed me. I stopped, turned around and made eye contact. He stopped and started walking the other way. When I began walking again, I could hear him begin to follow me again, his shuffling picking up speed as I walked faster. It was like “The Walking Dead.”

When I had nearly reached a populated crosswalk and he had almost caught up to me, I turned around again and backed up to a building to let him pass me. He looked at me and tried to stop to talk. I waved him off and said, “Go on. Get away from me. You’re giving me the creeps.”

Two fellows pulled up in a white sedan and asked if I was OK, was the guy bothering me. They offered me a ride. They looked perfectly normal, but I declined.

Luckily, my hotel was only a block away and I made it back without further incident. I’m safe. (Clearly, as I’m able to write about it.)

Here is the truth, Men: I didn’t want to stay on the street with a weird dude but I also didn’t want to get into a car with two men I didn’t know.

Imagine if you had been me and the people you encountered were women. I doubt any of you would have been concerned about either scenario.

It pisses me off that women have to worry about these things on a regular basis. It’s not freakin’ fair.

Yeah, I know: Life’s not fair.

I blame Obamacare. And penises.

(Maybe I should thank that disturbing dude for curing my blog writer’s block.)

Safe at last; safe at last,
Beth

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Don’t buy a #Volkswagen (@VW), part deux

September 18, 2014 by Beth

Yes, mine is a 2008.

Yes, mine is a 2008.

Dear “Ross B.” at Volkswagen Customer Care:

Thank you so much for writing me and apologizing for my “negative feelings towards Volkswagen.”

Unfortunately, my negative feelings toward Volkswagen increased today. Why? These words: “I apologize we are unable to assist with the cost of repairs.”

I’m sure you are sincere when you write, “Even when we are unable to financially assist, it is important to me that you and your kids feel safe.”

Sure. You certainly do not want our deaths on your conscience.

Your solution? Sending me to another dealership and having the “Region Case Manager” follow up with the dealership. A follow-up. Gee, thanks. I feel so much better.

You know what has made me feel better? The support of my friends who say they are glad to know about my problems so that they don’t buy a Volkswagen.

After I published my last post, one of my friends immediately wrote me to say that she had the exact same problem with acceleration in her VW and the Macon dealership finally fixed her car.

What makes me feel worse is that VW knows that the problems with acceleration (and with the upholstery) exist but THEY WON’T DO ANYTHING ABOUT THEM.

Hasn’t Volkswagen learned anything from GM and Toyota?

I guess not.

Sorry, Ross B., but this isn’t over. I plan to be Volkswagen’s worst nightmare until my issues are resolved.

On a mission,
Beth

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