Since I’ve noticed that a lot of people have come to this blog looking for the post I wrote on college resume tips, I’ve decided to upload a sample of a very modified version of my resume. You can find it here.
Tag Archives: Writing
This is bizarre. Only recently have I begun to feel like I’m getting the hang of things around here. Right when I’m about to leave UCLA.
There are many things that I wish I could change, but I’m finally realizing that I cannot control everything. In fact, the only thing I can barely try to control is myself. And I even have trouble doing that sometimes.
On the other hand, some things seem to be sailing smoothly. My classes are depressing. They are mostly about poverty and injustice in the world. Yet for some reason, I seem to be very good at them. Mind you, this is just my opinion since I haven’t gotten any midterm grades back, but I really like what I’ve been writing about. For the first time ever, I’ve felt comfortable enough to share my papers with others- this used to terrify me.
Work sucks, but that’s what happens when you work in customer service. Regardless of how awful most people are, there are still the very few who brighten my days with their goodness and wittiness. Like the older couple today in which the sir was making fun of the fact that he does everything his wife “orders” him to do. I smiled and told him that that’s how it’s supposed to be done. We all had a good laugh with that one.
My internship is the same as usual: It’s difficult to get myself there, but when I do, it’s not so bad. However, I am in the middle of a text-argument with a peer intern (I was not the initiator) and I anticipate this will be a problem in the future, since we usually work together. In short, I’m being blamed because I looked out after my own interest AFTER I had offered a solution to benefit both. Hard not to do when the answer to the original offer was: “Well, that’s really your personal situation, not mine.” Ha, if it had been just my situation then why are you yelling at me through text messages now? Life is a joy. I buy Whoppers for moments like this one.
My relationship with my wife is great as always. Well, not as always (we are human, you know?), but it’s been particularly good lately. I will not lie, the law school application process was a big problem for us at times, but ever since that got sorted out, things have gotten a lot better. Also, as I blogged before, I have a duty to force myself to calm down. For my health and all.
In any case, last night after studying for a while, we went to the Westwood Village and ended up at 800 Degrees Pizza for dinner. It was legit. All of this goodness I’ve been going through is made a thousand times easier because I get to share it with the love of my life. I really don’t understand why most people don’t get married during college. I highly recommend it 😉
-Mrs. This One
After my dear fellow blogger, Deborah, posted “A Love Letter,” I had some thoughts of my own on essay writing and putting the best of you on paper. As I mentioned earlier, I am in the process of hunting and applying for scholarships. This comes just right after 20 applications for law school. Yes, I did say 20. Needless to say, I am not looking forward to more applications, but I could use a scholarship (or ten), so this is what I will be doing when I’m not working, studying, interning, or living.
A current resume is one of the most commonly asked components for scholarship applications. Because of this, I went through my current work and academic resumes. These happened to be the ones that I used for law school applications. My first diagnostic was: What was I thinking? There was nothing wrong per se with the resumes, but I didn’t connect with them. They didn’t make me look at them and think “wow!” I was a bit upset that I even let law school admissions staff look at them in the first place. But I suppose in the big scope of things, it didn’t matter all that much since I’m going to the school I wanted to go to anyway.
After some browsing on how to craft resumes, I was a bit confused as to what format was the right one to go with. So I decided to go with what I’d call the best advice I could give to any college student working on their resume: Keep it simple, clean, and professional.
I made my name bigger than anything else and centered it along with my contact information right below it. Then I added the different sections (i.e Education). I used font, bolding, italics, and capitalization in a way that would highlight what I considered to be important to grab the reader’s attention. The outcome: The best resumes I’ve ever come up with. I even felt as a more accomplished individual after printing them out.
Lastly, don’t you give up until you look at it and think “wow.”
Edit: Mine looks something like this:
P.S. Thank you Deborah for writing such a beautiful post that made me try harder.
As promised (to myself, I suppose), I’ve started submitting my law school applications. I feel so tense that I think it would be way too easy for me to snap- of course I only know that because it has already happened.
If there’s something I’ve been told about school applications, whether for undergrad or other programs, is that typos are grounds for dismissal. Therefore, typos have become my archenemies. That’s why I asked my wife nicely to double-check my essays before I submitted them. Easy enough, right?
Well, the thing is that for law schools, you can’t really use one essay. Each school will ask you for some things that will not fit with another school’s requirements. By now, I think I’ve written about 6 essays for three schools. Anyway, I first submitted my USC application, and then UCLA’s followed.
When I was about to submit my Loyola’s application, I noticed a typo in a sentence after my wife had already gone through it. This one sentence I have used for the other two schools as well. Panic sunk in. I frantically looked for my other two saved applications hoping I was wrong. Nope, no chance. I submitted a typo to both of those applications. And mind you, it wasn’t just A typo. It was a typo at the very end of an essay. So this will be the last thing in their minds when they look at my application. Could you really blame me for snapping?
Well, now I feel like an a** because my SIL is right: this is my responsibility and I cannot put this on my girl. Though I could go on about how my SIL really needs to stay out of my relationship with MY wife, I’ll leave that for later and rather give her the credit she deserves. Besides, if someone had asked me to look over 6 essays in about four hours, I too would have missed a thing or two.
I wish this process were less demanding than it actually is. Or at least that after I submit an application, I’d get the little corny video of Rocky going up the stairs like WordPress used to do when I published something. Is that too much to ask for?
-Mrs. This One
Julia was walking rapidly. She was passing a park, scattered with picnickers, children and dogs running. Halfway through the park, she stopped herself and laid a hand on a nearby tree for support. This is when it hit her. She could not remember what she was walking away from. Was she escaping from something? Someone? Was she going somewhere?
It had been exactly two years since she had had the last blackout. They had started when she was nineteen, back in college. She had gone to a party with her roommate, Lucy Frees. Julia didn’t want to go to the party, but Lucy insisted. Almost begged her. Lucy wanted to see Jason, one of the frat boys hosting the party. But she didn’t want to show up to a party alone. This is why Julia had to come with her.
Julia remembered going to the party and having a few drinks. But after that, everything was a mystery to her. The next thing she knew about was waking up in Lucy’s bed, her own bed undone. Lucy hadn’t been there when she had woken up. She found out later that Lucy had died after being hit by a car when she was walking home the previous night. Julia always tried not to think about what happened that night. It wasn’t the guilt that bothered her. She knew that if she had taken better care of her roommate, she would probably still be alive. What really bothered her was not knowing what had happened.
Two years had been the longest she had gone without a blackout. She chuckled. And I was stupid enough to think I was cured, she thought- the bitterness overcoming her. She sat with her back against the tree. What was the last thing I did? After some effort, she was able to bring back the image of Leo Tanzini and his office. Right, he offered me a job! Her excitement was obvious. But what happened then? She examined herself and noticed that she was wearing casual jeans and a purple blouse. She certainly had not worn this to a job interview. She then remembered he had offered her lunch. Was she going to meet him? Was she late? Is that why she was walking so quickly? But nothing further came to mind.
“Christ, I’m pathetic!” She muttered. Defeated, she went home.
To be continued…
Another birthday went by. The realization that things are not exactly the way you’d like them to be hits harder and harder these days. This may or may not have been made worse by the fact that I had to spend my birthday writing a final paper. Whatever happened to birthdays being the one day out of the year where you got to do anything and everything you wanted to? You know the drill- mom cooks your favorite meal, you’re allowed to miss school, watch cartoons until noon, etc.
I guess I’m an adult now and things are not quite the same. Sure, I could have spent my day not writing my paper and risk failing a class. But the consequences outweigh the benefits by tons of tons. So I declined every invitation to go out in order to make sure I get a decent grade on that paper.
But this is just a symptom. My family is not doing well these days. By default, that carries over onto me. No matter how hard I try to not let it bother me, it simply does. You worry about those you care about, it’s hard-proven science (it might not be, so don’t quote me on this). The problem is not the worrying about the family, but rather worrying about the family when I’m going through one of the most stressful times in my life. These things get to you.
So today I did what the most rational person in my generation would do, I Googled “why don’t I feel happy with my life.” The majority of results were useless. Forums of people saying the kind of thing I’d say: “look at the bright side of things!” But what should we do if the bright side is not appealing anymore?
Luckily I did find an article about how humans are ironic beings because we want to be happy yet we rarely do things that make us happy (I forgot what article it was, so if you’re the author, tell me and you’ll get full credit). So I wrote a list of things that I could think of that I knew made me happy (besides my wife). Since I know you’re dying of curiosity, this is what the list looked like (there is no particular order):
What makes me happy (besides my wife)?
- Playing soccer.
- Reading for pleasure.
- Watching football games.
- Going to the movies.
- Writing [both blogging and creative (scripts and short stories)]
- Learning to play an instrument (at one point, this was drumming).
- Sitting outdoors (in a park setting…)
- Working out (when nothing hurts).
- TV, sometimes. (One Tree Hill, Friday Night Lights, Glee, Grey’s Anatomy, Desperate Housewives, Saturday Night Live, Family Guy).
- Tennis (I know, I was surprised too).
- Plays (theater).
Two things struck me as odd when I ran out of things to list. First, blogging was in this list (which may explain why I’m here tonight). And second, I realized that I don’t really do most of the things on this list. It is true that I’ve been sick all quarter so my time has been more limited than usual- but in reality, I don’t engage in most of these things because of lack of time or money. Ironic, isn’t it?
I shared the list with my wife who insists I pick a bullet point per week and do it. There is a chance I will try this, but we all know how trying to put things in your schedule work versus those that just happen.
In any case, one class done, three more to go.
-Mrs. This One
Julia was stunned by his question. Upset wasn’t quite how she felt, but it came pretty close to it. Was she giving out a bad vibe this early in the interview? She thought of the single can she had left earlier on the table. This wasn’t the time to be bitter. She needed to please this stranger somehow, someway.
“Disappointed is more like it.” She was shocked to hear these words come out of her mouth. Was she out of her mind? This was certainly not the way to try to please this man. But then again she had never performed successfully in that department. Hence the divorce. Marco Ramos, her ex-husband, made this very clear to her. “You’re not the girl I married,” he said with suitcase in hand. He was quick to leave. Didn’t even bother with counseling or giving her a second chance. A quick man; even on the times she didn’t want him to be.
Leo stood up. This couldn’t be a good sign. She must have offended him. This was the only interview she had been able to get. And here she was, ruining it before it had even formally started.
“Can you start Monday?” He said monotonously. Julia thought she’d heard wrong. Why would he be hiring her? He hadn’t even asked about her qualifications, or why she was unemployed. The situation had become a blur to her. A recent headache and a stomach-ache were unforgiving reminders that she hadn’t had enough food to function properly. Perhaps she had started to hallucinate.
“I beg your pardon?” She asked in a last attempt to regain control of the situation. Leo examined her with concerned eyes. There was more about this man than his stern composure.
“I wasted enough of your time when I made you wait in the lobby for an appointment I was late for.” This was as close to an apology as Julia was going to get. “But you waited. Which tells me you are determined to get this job.” True, but that still didn’t explain why he’d hire her like this. “I asked if you were upset. Most people would have lied to get on my good side. But you didn’t. You were honest. Even if that would have cost you the job. You put your values first.” Little did he know that Julia hadn’t intended to be honest. She wasn’t thinking straight. Her act of nobility had actually been nothing but a mistake on her part.
“But you don’t know anything about me, or my qualifications!” She protested. Unbeknownst to her, she was now sticking to her values and protesting this man’s good gesture. She didn’t think that his assessment was valid. How could she? People aren’t this kind anymore. Why her?
“I know enough. The rest is well explained in your resume and your recommendations. No need to repeat what you have already provided. But if you feel that’s not enough for me to hire you, you can join me for lunch and tell me more about yourself.” Leo hit a nerve. To Julia, this sounded like an advance. And to think that he made her believe for a moment that there was something special about her. Of course not. This man wanted something from her that she wasn’t prepared to give him, or anyone else for that matter.
To be continued…
The fridge was empty when Julia Carmichael looked into it. The cool air coming out of it was still something to be thankful for so she closed the door without complain. She browsed through the cabinets and was lucky to found two cans of beans. She could not remember buying them, but she was glad she had done so. Julia had been laid off from her company after being a successful accounts manager for 12 years. Her success did not matter in the end, only the company’s. She left one of the cans on the table, and she busied herself cooking the other one.
Two hours later, she found herself waiting in the lobby of the Crestia Bank located on 3rd Street and Main. She was told that the hiring manager would see her in ten minutes, twenty-five minutes ago. She tried to keep her negative thoughts aside though, and she hoped that he was simply busy with other businesses. She past time looking at the people waiting in line for a teller. It was so easy to tell who was in a hurry and who wasn’t. Like the lady who kept fidgeting with a check, while glancing at the wall clock every other minute. Perhaps she was in her lunch break and needed to rush back to her office. Julia tried to remember what that felt like. Having an office, getting the big calls, preparing for meetings. She considered herself lucky to have been doing something she loved for the time that she did. But she wasn’t lucky anymore. At least not for the time being.
Fifteen more minutes had gone by. She went against her instincts to keep waiting and asked one of the staff members to check on the hiring manager for her. The staff member, a man in his late 20s, politely went about helping Julia. She returned to her seat in the lobby, and tried not to look impatient. The man came back and asked her to follow him, the manager was ready for her. She walked by instinct, but her mind was practicing answers to the expected questions. Questions like: “do you consider yourself a team member?” and “what does leadership mean to you?”
The man opened the door to Leo Tanzini’s office, a chubby but well-dressed man. Julia walked in and Leo extended his hand. They both sat after the rather awkward exchange of greetings. She handed him her carefully crafted resume, which sat in a perfectly chosen black folder. He looked at it without a word, the tension building in the room.
“Are you upset?” Leo finally broke the silence.
To be continued…