Hello Mudda, Hello Fadda

Dear Human Resources Manager,
Currently I am an Arts and Crafts Specialist, where I teach basic and advanced art projects to campers aged 8 to 17.

As I weaved around a tiny gravel road located on the top of a mountain in Nowheresville, I wondered if I was ready for the job I was taking. Now, a week later, I am still apprehensive, but I am looking forward to meeting my girls and teaching them how to make cool, practical stuff with everyday, boring things.

For security reasons, I cannot say exactly where I am, but I can say that this is a very unique working environment. First of all, everyone is expected to have a camp nickname. I read in the information brochure that nicknames were given, but what I didn't know was that I would be taking on a totally new identification. When I got out of my car and was greeted by the rest of the staff, they all asked me if I had chosen a nickname. I had assumed that a nickname was given, but I wanted to take the opportunity to name myself, rather than be stuck with a moniker like "Zits" or "Squishy."

I tried playing on alternate versions of my own name: Grixie... Pixie? Oh, there's already a Pixie. Ellie... Ellie-fant... Jelly... Jelly Belly.... Um.... I also mentally ran through the X-Men roster. Rogue? Storm? I like starting fires, should I be Pyro? I also started thinking about some of my favorite book characters, and since I had just finished reading "To Kill a Mockingbird" for the millionth time, I decided to be called Scout. So now, all of my co-workers know me only as Scout, and it is my decision if I would like to reveal my true identity to any of them.

One of the main drawbacks of living way up here is the total lack of modern conveniences, like Wi-Fi, cell phone reception, electricity, flush toilets, and mirrors. My only access to any of those comforts is through a 30-minute drive into the nearest town. I am at the moment sitting in a too-cold Barnes and Noble cafe, sipping a very cold beverage which I only purchased so that I wouldn't feel guilty about taking up a table for an hour while I look for jobs. My job search has dramatically slackened during the past week, but I am determined to send off at least one application a week. The prospect of making follow-up calls from a Panera Bread Company is uncomfortable, but the prospect of ending yet another odd job and staring over the vast canyon of unemployment is unendurable.

I am freezing, so I'm going to wrap up my little rant now. I would like to leave you with one story: the latrines out here are called a "Biffy": Bathrooms In Forest For You, and they boast the combined fragrances of toothpaste and shit, as one would expect from a chemical toilet. One follows the tightrope walker's credo of Don't Look Down when using them, and it is disconcerting to have a moment's silence between the disposal and the impact. But the ceiling is a small splendor. The roof is made of particle board, and little flakes protrude from the ceiling from where the nails are driven through. At night, hordes of moths congregate around the lightbulbs, and their folded wings match the shape and color of the wood. When you come in and close the door, the moths flutter in a way that suggests that pieces of the roof are coming to life and are flying away.

Gotta start somewhere

Welcome to Ellie's Odd Jobs: a blog about swallowing your pride, keeping your faith, making the most of a college degree, and making the best of a bad situation.

About a year ago, I finished my coursework requirements for an MA in Art History (thank you, thank you), and moved to Washington D.C. in the starry-eyed hopes of carving out a living for myself in the arts. Since then, I have applied for 98 jobs (insert record-scratching sound here) in at least three countries, to no avail, and am constantly fighting off cynicism and bitterness. (I am also fighting the urge to deliver a swift crack in the nose to the next person who asks, "Have you looked at the Smithsonian?")

I know that I am not the only twenty-something out there in this position, that my lack of employment is due to the vague, oppressing burden of The Economy and not to a lack of drive, education, experience, or passion. Still, until that perfect job comes along, we all have to eat, and that's where the "odd jobs" come in.

Sometimes you just have to put your education on the back burner and take a job which doesn't utilize your qualifications or your gray matter. I have spent many years in the employ of some very strange jobs, and I have learned to put the right "spin" on cover letter to make it shine. For example:

• The job: Wearing a costume, carrying a candle-lit lantern, and telling ghost stories to superstitious tourists.
• The resume: Over four years' experience in historic interpretation and interpersonal communication.

No one can squeeze the blood from a stone like me!

This blog is my attempt to share my stories and look on the bright side of a wholly unfunny situation (unemployment with a Master's degree) not only so that I can laugh at myself, but also in the hopes that someone who is in the same boat as me will recognize my situation and laugh along with me.