Monkey In a Suit

42 essays down. 8 to go. Both jobs currently precariously balanced. Managing to get all homework done for 2 math classes.

It’s no wonder I’ve fallen sick.

I just keep telling myself that if all goes well, by next July I’ll be sitting in Sihanoukville watching the water, drinking a mango smoothie and thinking about the fact that my desk job is a world away.

Anticipating cursory posting till the end of the year.

Happy Birthday To You!

Happy Birthday to the one of the few writers on the internet who combines wit, snark, hilariousness, creativity in her work . If there’s one thing I can say about Ms. Slackmistress is that her edgey humour is never nasty. Folks, that’s not easy-there’s the quasi-stupid snark that proliferates and there’s a kindly raised eyebrow and witty quip. The latter takes more skill and panache to pull off, but Slackmistress does it.

(And no, I don’t know her in real life and have never met her. A girl can admire talent from afar, can’t she?)

Happy Birthday Slack! I hope you have another great year. Congratulations on all of the accomplishments of the last and best of luck with the future!

Monkey

Oh J,

I thought we were exclusive. You would always pull that trick, you know, running and hiding from anyone that wasn’t me, or sometimes my sister, if you confused her for me (don’t sweat it dude, I know you’re down one eye and have chronic feline asthma). And the drama you pull when I leave the door open for you to explore the hallway! You’re Magellan…except until such time there’s a hint that other people live in the building. At which point you turn tail and scurry back to your favourite place. Your Office under the Bed. I know you trade commodities there in the morning, by the way. Your e-brokerage account receipts came in last month. Why are you hiding your fortune from me? That isn’t fair J, making me buy your expensive cat food, when you have plenty of money to buy it for yourself.

So anyway, I thought it was just you and me against the world. Two opposable thumbs, 3 eyes and 1 tail between the two of us.

I was wrong.

I knew something was up when that girl approached me in the hallway. Does orange cat belong to you?, she asked me oh-so-sweetly. I was taken aback. Had you escaped somehow? Were you cowering some place in the hallway, unable to find your way around the corner to our lair?

She continued. Oh, I love talking to him through your window. He puts his paw up when he sees me.

 Oh.

Really? You put your paw up to her through the window? Like, really really? Because I thought you didn’t even like people to look at you. Now I find out that you’re carrying on some sort of prison visit correspondance with blondie through the dining room window. Does she bring you grape juice to make Prune-o?

And it didn’t end there, J. Some other dude was walking by my apartment as I lumbered out and he goes…you must belong to my buddy orange cat! And then, he waved “hi” at you because you were lolling about playing with my shoelaces near the door and what do you do but turn tail and slink away to your office under the bed. That’s not very mature, J. You were caught red-pawed. Own up to it like a man. Or a cat whose testicles have been surgically removed. Oh and ps, you guys are BUDDIES?

I want you to know that it’s okay. I’m openminded and evolved about these things. You want to have congenial relationships with other people in the building, fine? Don’t lie and say you were only keeping tabs on them because you were protecting our home from thieves. It’s okay to want to talk to other people.

As long as you’re just doing it through the dining room window.

You know how people are always stump posting about how their co-workers are super interested in putting their oar in about The Baby’s Name, like their co-workers’ need consider to figure it out happens to be the central focus of their lives?   

Well, Mentos and I have made a point to do exactly that, except with added helpful baby name suggestions and offers to throw down a $20 (Federal limits on donations) if she gives us a shareholder stake in her new kid. Just to show Standusky how much we love her and also to amuse the shit out of ourselves. What can I say. We’re hoping to drive her to the pregnancy message boards to bitch about us I guess (if she hasn’t already).  

1) Azrael

2) Judas

3) Jesus (we suggested 2 and 3 together as the “J” twins)

4) Google (to dilute impact of googlestalking)

5) Beelzebub

6) Mephistopheles

7) Homunculus

Banana

9) Sua Sponte

10) *

11) Madonno

12) Obama

13) Jefferson Airplane

14) Giant

15) Ambrose

16) Martyr

18) Nero

19) Res Ipsa Loquitor

20) ULie

What awesome baby name suggestions have you guys made to your co-workers?

1) Not sure if I ever talked about this but my Birkin Bag photo, which Cagey published on her blog a while back (I had snapped it just for her), was published in the Schmaps “Vegas Guide”. Schmaps seems to be sort of like mapquest…but with photos, so you can download it on to your smartphone and use it to help you when you’re on a self-guided walking tour (or something). I find the concept kind of cool and it’s not like I was emotionally attached to the photo or anything, so when they emailed me saying that I had been shortlisted I was like “yeah, go ahead, use it.” They credit you, which is nice. Although I noticed that they put it in the wrong location-the purse in question was located in the new Wynn building, Encore but they’ve attributed it to the Hermes store in the Bellagio.

2) I sort of suspected this would happen, but my essays for the remainder of the schools are going much much much faster. Which, thank gods, because I’m turning in 5 applications early since I’m across the country for a training the week that they’re all due. The first school I had to turn in asked me such b-school standard topics that I haven’t really had to think too much to write essays for other schools. There are a couple of schools that have thrown me left-of-field assignments (audio uploads, vague, give us a work that you feels “defines you” type stuff) but for the most part, the experiences I picked out to talk about in School 1’s essays match up with every other school. Bog-standard mba topics include

*Your long-term and short-term goals and why the school is right for you

*An instance of failure

*An instance where you displayed creativity, or your most important work project to date

*Accepting feedback

And the like. One thing that does change from school-to-school is word count limits. Some schools are generous, which allowed me to get creative and really work to indicate that I have a good command of language, and then some schools are stingggggggggy. As in, “here’s a really broad topic about your most significant accomplishment and PS, you have a 250 word limit.” 500, or 750-1000 seems to be about the standard requirement.

In short, yes, the schools all have different essays and you *will* have to do seperate work on each one (and keep in mind that when I say “much faster” I mean only 3 hours per essay as opposed to 9-12) but it’s much faster when you already have certain turns of  phrase and ideas that you need to communicate laid out or mapped in prose. But it is hard, hard, hard. That’s all I can say. I whined about it below but I neuroticise over each word and I spend a lot of time thinking about whether something I’ve said comes off presumptuous or whatever. For instance, I’ve had a lot of unique experiences as a result of working at the crossroads of finance and public service…which is a point I really wanted to communicate. Because yes, there are those kids that do stuff like establish non-profits in Tajikistan to help kids go to school and such but I really wanted to communicate stuff like “well, I get to work with Deutsche and some of the country’s biggest banks, but in a public service sector.” But you can’t just be like “well, I’m a do-gooder but keep in mind that unlike some do-gooders I’m way more intimately aware of financial stuff.” I mean, trust me, distinguishing yourself from the herd without putting down the herd is not as easy as it sounds.

Also, the first app requires you to spend hours doing stuff that you don’t have to do for other schools-like reword your resume, find some place to scan your transcripts/diploma at really really low resolution that’s still legible and meets the school’s upload limits (a gigantic headache), which is probably another reason it goes faster.

3) I sent my labour organization one of my essays (I’ve been involved with organized labour for a pretty long time) and everyone loved it. So it has been forwarded on to the national organization and I don’t know…they might publish it or something? Sounds cool. I’m happy they like it.

4) I had a really nice conversation with Cagey recently (I think it was this weekend…I’m beginning to lose track of time) which…hilarious. She was listening to me talk about doing all this stuff for schools and mentioned something like “gosh, I’m glad my state school never made me do all this stuff,” paused and then was like “well, maybe I did write an essay somewhere along the line,” and we both started laughing because Arun and Anjali have STOLEN her memories, yo. I couldn’t help being like “dude, with an MA and a CPA I assure you that you wrote at least ONE essay.”

But here’s the thing-I know where she’s coming from. The tech revolution has been a blessing in so many ways but it also means that schools are demanding more more more more more these days. I have no idea whether or not b-schools have always been this detail oriented, but I will tell you that I did not have to write this much stuff for *any* of the law schools I applied to. And I’m not just talking about the essays, which by the way, we did only have to write 1 or 2 essays back in the day so I sympathize with it slipping Cagey’s mind, but the sheer amount of stuff you have to communicate about *you*. Yo, when I applied to law school, which was ohhhhh seven years ago, it was a form. Which I TYPED. And it was something like two pages. 

Now? I’m answering screen after screen of personal information. It’s like filling out the bar apps (yeah, you have to apply to even sit) over and over again. One school wanted to know every job I’ve held for the last 8 years.  Which, thank ye kindly gods I’m in my 30s and their request places me past having to think about all those temp positions. I cannot imagine being 25 and having to think about jobs from the age of 17 onwards.    

5) Something I’ve been angsting about is failing at this. Not getting a single interview and not getting into any school. It’s a tough year folks. I’m well placed in terms of scores and gpas and work experience but…this is nerve wracking. I also remember what it felt like when I failed the California Bar…the subtle pleasure people took in it. The way people from work knew about how I passed Illinois and California thereafter (one after the other) because THEY were checking for my name on the pass rolls before I was. I know my family and people like Mentos wouldn’t take any pleasure in it (or my friends from labour, who are dolls, dolls) but I know the sense of satisfaction people feel when someone Type A like me f*cks up. It’s a nasty sentiment and the fact is that you can’t live your life by it but it SUCKS.

And you know what? They’ll do it again. And if it comes to that it will probably hurt again. But you know what? Frock all of them-I’d much rather be out there trying and living my life than sitting on my a$$ snickering at people who try. If not this year, then next year.

Ain’t no one going to keep a monkey down.