Fanny's Your Aunt

I like words. They are enormously important. I have my personal everyday favourites and some which I keep just for special occasions. Sometimes, if I like the sound of a word or just how it makes my mouth move, I will say it over and over again. Rapscallion, gusset, knickerbockers, winkle pickers, guttersnipe, codswallop, poppycock, plop. I have never been thrown off a bus yet [but as an interesting aside, Mike has, for smelling of day old crab.]

When someone asks me what I do for a living, I would like to describe myself as a wordsmith, but that would lead to enormous pressure to be witty, intelligent and urbane. I am much better on paper. Out loud, there are other people involved. Shudder.

Words have to be used correctly and effectively though. For my new American resume, I am supposed to be branding myself, with an arresting tag line which states my key skills, and what I could do better than anyone else to raise productivity, morale, profit... I'm struggling. I can't get past the first word. It is something a little more than writer's block. I don't have an easy title to throw in to the mix. I just do stuff. I am not a freelance scientist, a hairdresser, a software engineer, a marketing manager, a circus clown, a nurse, a police officer, an accountant, a teacher. I'm just me. Perhaps a wannabe wordsmith with labelling issues would be suitable?

In between my twenty minute bouts of job hunting and resume tweaking, I discovered that there are many words commonly used in the UK which would mean nothing to an American, more so perhaps than the other way round. I have therefore composed a baffling sentence.

What a kerfuffle! I bought cagoule on the high street so I could abseil in the rain, when some chav carrying candy floss from the dodgems, wearing a daft hat and dustman's jacket, ran into me and Bob's your uncle, my coat had been nicked. I was gobsmacked. I called the Old Bill, cut my losses and took a trip to the offy. I'll just wear a jumper covered in cling film instead.

All of this is very lovely in a slightly deranged way, but I am no closer to employment am I? You are so distracting.

The Lost Chart

If you cast your mind back to the MP3 experiment post I did (I am not going to link to it. I am supposed to be job hunting after all, which is why I am doing so many postings all of a sudden. I am fully confident that you can find it though- here's a clue, it is called Notes from the Outside.)

Memories refreshed then, you will recall that I spoke of a chart on a napkin I produced "depicting the strength of crowd reaction to the experiment over time... which one of our companions, Ed, took a picture of. I like my work to be appreciated. I managed to then lose it after I promised I would upload it to the blog. I seem to remember it was rubbish though and had badly proportioned stick people and unrealistic umbrella pictures." Well, here it is (down a bit). Ta da. Not only is all of the above true, it is also impossible to read and gain any sense out of it post-event.

So, if you have a company based in San Francisco near a Muni route which needs someone who clearly has excellent procrastination skills; the ability to skirt around an issue almost indefinitely, appalling customer service with matching bad attitude and low motivation; 'interesting' communication attributes; the ability, but total unwillingness, to adapt; excelent attetnion to detail; worrying interpretations of data (including dubious logic but lots of creative thinking); shocking numeracy and lack of commercial awareness; no ambition, but with high salary expectations, I am free until the end of June 2009.



Picture courtesy of Ed's blog. In case you are reading this Ed, thank you, and sorry for not asking permission first.