Susieboldt's Blog

Random Comments from a Dreamer

The Only Options Left for Me

I’ve decided that for me to get a job I must first try one, or all, of these scenarios below:

Scenario One: I must wear a chicken costume while walking up and down the busiest streets of Leamington while occasionally breaking out in song and dance. My song will go like this:

Hello, my name is Susie and I can’t get a job!

I can’t be the only one who finds this odd!

I’ve begun to pull my hair out; it’s getting kind of thin…

I bet you a million bucks that my sister could get a job…even if she were my Siamese twin!

I wear this chicken outfit to get your attention…

Shout out to everyone who’s gotten hired…here’s your honourable mention!

Now please if you will,

look at my resume,


 It’s a rap. Granted, it’s a feeble attempt at a rap…but still a rap.

 Scenario Two: I will dress myself up as a man; maybe smear a little grease across my face and carry a wrench. This will show my work dedication. I will then walk into any one of the nearest stores and pronounce my un-employment to a manger. The manager, upon witnessing such a humbling display of courage (from a man), will shake my greasy hand and hire me (because I am a man). Later that day, upon noticing my entry into the women’s bathroom, he will fire me for being a woman. The drawback to this scenario: its short lived.

 Scenario Three (my personal favourite): I will choose a desired employer, (say a national park for example), waltz right behind the counter with my head held high and start working. Upon other employees asking what the heck I am doing, I will calmly, and casually answer that I am from district and I’ve been sent to help out. Once they see how competent I really am, they’ll ask me my name. They will then have no other choice than to enter me into their payroll system, so not to displease the higher-ups from the district, of course. If anyone asks “what’s the district?” I will roll my eyes, put my hands on my hip, and stare into their wide eyes with a gaze so intense that the most feared animal in the world would back away in terror. This alone will deter them from their task of receiving an answer. And batta boom, batta bing, I’m in!

 Scenario Four: I will find myself a rip in the space-time continuum, locate the other Susie’s living in multiple times and destinations, and then kidnap them only to offer this advice: “Stay away from one called Value Village! It will offer you no hope, and sap every ounce of confidence from your already deflated self-esteem! Oh, and watch out for a spider who will mysteriously end up in your bed sheets, he can smell fear.

Now…if only I had a chicken costume…


April 21, 2010 Posted by | Uncategorized | 8 Comments

The Yogurt is Alive!

If you’ve kept up with my blog, you’ll know how much I pick apart commercials. I probably do this because at one point in my life I wanted to be an advertiser. I’m not going to judge one particular commercial this time though, instead I’m going to yoke all yogurt commercials together, and judge them all as one.

Let me start by asking you some questions…

Can you recall the last yogurt commercial you seen?

Do you remember hearing words that you’ve never heard of before?

Did you ask yourself what those words even meant?

Well I checked yes to all three of those questions. And while the last yogurt commercial I watched belonged to Activia, it doesn’t really matter which brand I talk about, because they’re all doing the same stupid thing. The actors hold up their beloved yogurt cups close to the camera and then start talking a whole different language. They’ll say things like, “NOW CONTAINS PROBIOTIC CULTURES!!” or “EVERY CUP CONTAINS THE NATURAL CULTURE BIFIDUS REGULARIS!!” or “HAS AMINO ACIDS!!” Do you understand these phrases? I certainly don’t. Nope, not at all.

Maybe it’s just me, but when I hear that my yogurt, currently sitting in my fridge, has probiotic cultures I get a little grossed out. Am I being told that there are living and breathing cultures in my yogurt? What are these cultures doing there?! And what do these cultures do when they hit my stomach?! I’m not going to lie to you, I am now terrified of yogurt! Is Bifidus even a word? Not only does my heart say no, but my spell check also says no. I’m sorry yogurt companies, but making up names to make your yogurt sound healthier is against the law. In fact, I looked up the word Bifidus online, and this is what came up:

Bifidobacterium is a genus of Gram-positive, non-motile, often branched anaerobic bacteria inhabiting the Gastrointestinal tract and Vagina.

So…this “culture” is INHABITING MY BODY?!!!! Who gave this Bifidus the right to inhabit my body? What’s it doing in there…eating away at my organs and laughing after every bite?

I found a video that expresses some of the same fears that I have, and while this video has absolutely no validity what-so-ever, it sums up exactly what I’ve been thinking.

If I weren’t so lazy I would find out what exactly these yogurt companies are trying to promote, but the truth of the matter is, I am lazy, and until these companies explain what exactly Bifidus is, I won’t be buying their yogurt.

And to think I’ve been wondering why I’ve had no motivation to eat the soon-expired yogurt in my fridge…

April 20, 2010 Posted by | Uncategorized | 8 Comments

My Rant about Jobs, and the Lack Thereof

I’m going to take this opportunity to rant…I do this, because right now I don’t have anybody to rant too besides this inanimate screen.

I’m looking for a job, as many of my faithful blog readers already know. What many of you do not know is how discouraged I am because of it. I’ve handed out fourteen resumes…and while I know this is a very minimal amount of resumes compared to some (which I’ll get to in a minute), it’s still a lot to me. You see, I tailor each resume to each prospective employer. I write down which of my skills would help that particular company best, on my cover letter. I continually make changes to improve the look of my cover letter and resume…and yet, out of all fourteen places I applied…I only got one call, from only one employer; which during the interview I blew my chances completely after answering a scenario question horribly wrong.

I search the on-line job bank every day twice a day, and apply to each and every job that I might be suited for, and is in my proximity. The only problem with job bank is that out of 50 jobs, 26 are meant solely for males, and out of the remaining 24 jobs, 15 of them are looking for managers or full time workers. With summer school, I’m automatically ruled out of full time work. That leaves 9 jobs for everyone else who is in my situation to apply for. And most of those 9 jobs are an hour away from where I live. With hundreds of people applying to those same 9 jobs that I am qualified for, my chances are slimmer than a Kraft Singles slice of cheese.

I recently came across a postcard that caught my attention. I saw it on a blog called This is a blog where people send in their secrets written on postcards, for all the world to see. I would not recommend this site, as people sometimes send in really horrible or sexual secrets. But this one in particular caught my eye:

I wonder how many people in the world right now, are having trouble finding a job. Probably millions of people. This makes me incredibly sad, especially knowing that many of those un-employed workers have families, and mouths to feed. As I sit here and type these words, my mind can’t help but wonder what action can be taken to help those people…but I’m as clueless as the next person. It’s hard for me to complain when I see this, but…certainly not impossible. So I’ll continue…

What strikes me as odd, is how many people close to me have only been out of a job for a week or so, and then with the first resume they hand out, they miraculously get the job. I cannot tell you the emotions that are running through my head at this time. I won’t even try. But, what I can tell you is how difficult it is to remain positive during a time like this. For the most part, I have remained positive, but I do not know how much longer that will last.

April 14, 2010 Posted by | Uncategorized | 4 Comments

The Dreaded Handshake of Doom

I am not a very social person.

I don’t voluntarily put myself into positions where I have to meet new people. I don’t look around a restaurant when I first enter to look for people I might know. And I never, ever voluntarily shake someone’s hand.

Usually I am able to avoid shaking people’s hands but there’s one circumstance in which I cannot avoid the handshake: handing out resumes.

During one instance, I handed my resume to the manger at a local store and as she leaned in for the inevitable handshake I leaned in to hand her my resume! I blew off her handshake completely! Instead of the expected hand shake, she held my resume instead! Immediately afterwards I knew I had blown my chance for the job. Who would hire a woman who couldn’t even shake hands properly? Why oh why must be so socially awkward? I have a very vivid image stamped in my brain of the manager furrowing her brows at me. She was obviously flabbergasted at my outright display of disrespect. I went home disappointed in myself at being so ridiculously inept. I sat on my couch, hunched my back and shook my head in sheer embarrassment. This lasted for a good hour.

Not too long after that, I had an even worse experience involving the dreaded handshake of doom. I went to drop off another resume at a different local store, and this time I was prepared to initiate the handshake. That way, I would avoid any embarrassment over the lean-in and resume hand-off. I walked over to the manager confidently and stuck out my hand as I introduced myself. I thought all was going well but it turns out, I was absolutely wrong. The manager first looked at me, then looked at my hand, then looked at me once more, before weakly grasping my hand in hers. Oh the embarrassment! The pure shame and awkwardness strewn across my face, represented by a whole face blush! Time has never ticked by so slowly as in that moment. After the handshake failure, I felt like turning around and walking right out of those doors and heading home to once again sit on my couch and linger in my social incompetence. Instead, I smiled, kept my composure and handed her my resume. I cannot explain to you how awkward it really was though, without you having been the recipient of my handshake.

I made a vow after that day. I said to myself that never again would I shake another person’s hand, NEVER.

I broke that vow the next Sunday at church. Turns out, it is quite impossible to avoid handshakes in a church.

I made another vow on that Sunday as I feebly attempted to shake hands with confidence, that I would never make another vow ever again, NEVER.

April 6, 2010 Posted by | Uncategorized | 4 Comments