Part 2: The First Mission

008 arrived in Zurich late in the evening. She made her way from the airport through the bitter cold of December to her hotel in the middle of town, just near the river. She checked in with an alias.
"Your name please madame?" said the man at the front desk, looking bored.
"Alice Green" she replied.
He handed her the card key to her room and she made her way to the elevator. When she was finally inside her room, she dropped her luggage at the foot of her bed and peeled off her cold wet clothes, which had received a dusting of snow on the way in. She opened her handbag and rummaged around for her PDA and a a small black velvet sinch sack, which any other lady would have used as a change purse. She set her PDA on the bed and dumped the contents of the black sack out next to it. There were about a dozen little plastic chips of various colors. Sifting through them, she found the black and orange one, which was a Swiss sim card. She replaced the others and proceded to insert the the little card into her PDA.
The first thing she did was to check her email, and at the top of the list was a frantic message from her mother regarding a certain lamp in her hallway. She laughed and typed a quick response:
"Mother,
You're terribly gullible!
Love, me"
She filtered through some junk mail and messages from the organization. Her mission in Switzerland would be to study and report back on foreign policy strategy and the secretive financial system. The information would be used as a model in the effort to bring America back to a fully free-market capital system, starting with the banking and financial sectors, and to regain a neutral standing in its international relations. Her contacts in the organization had pull in Washington and would try to use their status to fight the recent uprising of various special interest groups that were creating excessive beauraucracy, draining the economy and choking out freedoms in the interest of "security" and "social welfare".
Exhausted from her flight, she resigned to the weight of her eyelids, undressed, and crawled into bed.

My story, Part 1: How It All Began

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful, intelligent young woman. In the interest of protecting her identity, we'll call her 008. 008 spent several years as an apprentice of the greatest minds in the world. When she finally graduated from her apprenticeship, it was time to embark upon some secret missions, primarily focused on protecting the world from corruption and the removal of society's ability to use reason and intellect. Her job was to eliminate the conspirators who used cult leader-inspired antics to control masses of people and remove their ability to think for themselves.

Naturally, her family became curious about what she would do with her life, but she had to focus on preparing herself mentally and physically for her first mission. As they began asking questions about her career objectives, she knew she would have to craft some sort of guise to protect her identity and the nature of her missions.

"I'm going to work in Europe for a newspaper." She told them. "I'll be interviewing CEOs and selling advertising space. It's a great assignment for a leading publication!"

Her family was skeptical. "Which newspaper?" they asked.

"It's published in Asia. They need native English speakers to conduct the interviews." She explained with confidence.

"Are you sure you're not going to work for the CIA or FBI?" Her mother asked, half jokingly.

"Of course I'm sure. Don't be ridiculous."

"Well if you are," her mother stated more seriously, "just move the lamp in the hall to the other end of the table when you leave. I know you can't tell me, but I have to know."

008 laughed easily and went upstairs to pack for her first mission. "I'm leaving first thing in the morning." She called down the stairs behind her. "I'll call you when I'm settled in Oslo."

She hid a revolver among her socks and underwear and packed a pair of motorcycle boots and leather pants. The rest of her gear was more inconspicuous, as she would have to blend into large groups to penetrate the premise of her targets.

She went to sleep and rose before the sun the next morning. Her family was still asleep and would be for another couple of hours. She zipped up her suitcase and lifted the handle to drag it downstairs. As she approached the door, she saw the classic black 1980s BMW parked across the street. Her ride had arrived to take her to a private jet. She set her suitcase next to the door and walked back down the hall to the table. With a smirk, she lifted the lamp and moved it to the other end of the table before turning to collect her bags and slip out into the pre-dawn morning.

Progress and Restlessness

I had a job interview yesterday and another today. Both are for sales jobs, which is good for my competitive nature but perhaps not so great in a sinking economy. Both are paid commissions only, which means if I can't sell one month, I can't pay my rent. Hmm.... not so cool. What is cool is that one of them also offers a company car, crackberry and laptop. Oh to be a high roller once more! Fingers crossed on the next phase of the interview. In the mean time, I'm still looking. My resume is pretty killer, but so is the economy, so it's an intense match! Who will come out on top? Will it be the International Lady of Mystery, with her unparalleled powers of seduction and intellect? Or the American Recession, with its fat government-business bailouts and tumbling stock market? Could be almost as exciting as the Del la Hoya Pacquiao! Well I'll give you a little preview on the winner of this match-up; It's gonna have to be me! Why? Because at the moment, I have my eye on a flight to Central America, where my uncle owns some property. I'm dying for an opportunity to practice my Spanish in a culturally relevant situation again. What do I mean by culturally relevant? I mean sexy, sandy beaches in weather that will make me wonder what the hell I'm doing in Boston!! Mexico was great, but I've got my sights set on a south-bound expansion of my horizons. Ohhhh yeahhhh.

Yearning for My Past Life

After a month and a half of temping, I'm back to the full-time job search. A shady interview today with a company that wouldn't answer any of my questions has scheduled me for a follow up interview tomorrow. After a bit of internet research on the company, I've decided I'll call them first thing in the morning to cancel. I need a stable job, at a strong company, working with intelligent and inspiring people. I've had enough of the shady business. This whole unemployment situation has left me far too much time to think about my life and thus, seriously missing my old life. I was jet-setting around Europe in a business suit and sweet talking CEOs of multinational corporations. Now, I'm sitting in a tiny bedroom in an over-priced apartment, scouring the internet for jobs for which I'm either over-qualified, under-qualified, or just not terribly interested in. My only hope for income is temping with morons I could probably replace if it wasn't for the big fee my agency charges companies for direct hire. I've come to realize that an MBA doesn't necessarily guarantee a strong work ethic, or even a fully functioning independent brain. When people I meet see my resume, they are shocked by my impressive international experience, and yet when I send it to potential employers I get negative responses or no response at all. So what if I don't have 5 years of experience in a certain niche? I have a strong work ethic and a certain level of intellectual curiosity that makes me a quick learner. I've met plenty of morons who look good on paper but ask everyone else in the office to do their work for them because they are "still figuring out those spread sheets" 2 or 3 months into their job. Can someone please take a chance and hire me into a stimulating environment??? I think I'd make a wonderful account manager.

Votey McVoterson

I'm trying to vote. Early. Well, it's an absentee ballot since I'm no longer living in my home state of Maine, or at least not for the time being. What a lousy process! There is actually one question that reads "Shall the municipality approve the charter revision recommended by the charter commission?" Um... WHAT?! How the hell am I supposed to know what that even means? This is not my first time voting, but I'm beginning to think that casting an educated vote requires more study time than passing my exams in college. Beyond that, there are so many candidates running for different offices, and the more local they are the more difficult it is to find any relevant information on their views on the issues. I've had an easier time finding out how many children they have than what their fiscal policy beliefs are! I'd be better off selecting a husband by this process than a candidate for any political office. Who cares if the candidate is married? I want to know if they're going to spend my tax dollars wisely or not. Is anyone with me on this? How important are personality and charm?

On a lighter note, my dear friend Andy came for a visit from Mexico City about 2 weeks ago. We were walking down my street one evening and came across this car which seemed to be a target for the local North End Pigeon Community. Not another car in sight had any birdie-poo on it, but this car was covered. I wonder what he did to piss off those birds? Piss off, piss on, it all comes back around! Also, I took a picture of Andy being a wonderful gentleman and carrying our sofa box down to the street to be picked up on trash day. I think the box was bigger than Andy and I almost pissed myself laughing as he tried to sqeeze it down the four flights of stairs and around our neighbors' shitpiles on each landing. Sorry, Andy. It was a giggly day. I still love you!

Access Denied

It was another long day at work... over 10 hours if you include my lunch break. I finally got in touch with the lady I interviewed with on Monday at the publishing house. I didn't get the job, which is no big surprise. The only surprise was that she actually called to tell me personally! Usually I get an email or worse yet, a letter via snail mail. She said she needs someone with more concrete writing experience. Shocker. That's why I'm blogging, but I don't want to put this on my resume. Officially I've only done a little web content, a lot of editing and proofreading and little support and consulting with PR writing. Not so impressive, but then again I've only been out of school for a year and a half. During the interview she asked if I wrote for my high school newspaper. That's right: high school. Are you serious? I was super-involved in high school (sports every season, student government, national honor society, yearbook staff and choir) but I had no clue what I wanted to do, aside from travel and learn French. Ironically that's still more or less the case today, over 6 years later. I do like writing, though. I'm just not sure how to get a career with it if I can't catch a break or have a place to start. Nonetheless, my head is held high! I didn't feel very comfortable in the office so I'm sure I wouldn't have liked working there anyway. In an effort to be more proactive, I shot off two more resumes today. Fingers crossed....

Managing Minor Crises

I had a job interview today with a small publishing company. They had me in mind for a position I didn't apply for, but which recently became available and actually sounds more interesting than what I had originally sent my resume in for. This is all very last minute of course, since I'm starting temp work tomorrow. I just got the email about this interview last night and wrote back to ask if I could come in today while I still have time. I felt like the interview went okay, but that my actual experience fell short of what they thought it was once I explained my resume. Beyond that, I had to take some skill tests at the beginning on which I performed miserably. I should have said something in my own defense but I didn't want to seem dishonest or as if I was making up excuses. Of course in retrospect, I could have said that given and opportunity to retake them, I think I would perform better. They were testing on speed and accuracy, and I was very slow but very accurate. I think it was partly the disclaimer that "no one ever finishes so don't worry when you don't" that threw me off and lead me to underestimate the importance of the speed aspect. It is true, though, that I would rather take my time to do something right than rush through it and have it turn out sub-par. I'm somewhat of a perfectionist. Anyway, it hardly matters now but the point was that I went home feeling rather defeated. It's really awful when I get in those moods. I start questioning my purpose in life. Isn't 24 a bit young for a mid-life crisis? I know I think too much and I've really been beating myself up lately about what to do with my life. I feel like I should have a career I'm really passionate about, but I can't seem to get into anything. I guess that's why I'm writing. When all else fails it is an excellent way to vent my thoughts, however dramatic or illogical they may be at any given moment. I like telling stories but I seem to let out all the negative and keep the positive thoughts for myself, as if I'm afraid I'll lose everything good I have if I take the chance of sharing it. Anyway, back to my life mission. The only things I know I'm passionate about are France (I love the country, the language, the food, the wine) and skiing, which I've been doing as long as I've been walking. I guess by those standards the only solution would be to move to the alps and get a job as a ski instructor! I actually thought at one point that it might be nice to move there, get married and be a stay at home mom and writer. If I could do all that in the Alps region (I'm thinking Lyon, although Grenoble is nice and I've heard lovely things about Annecy) I'd be set for life! But alas, reality is not so kind. I have a one year lease in Boston now, and about 30 years worth of student loan debt. Oh well. In the mean time, a girl can dream!