In case you haven’t noticed- I am looking for a new job at the moment. Considering the current economic situation it’s not exactly easy for Online Community Managers but if I trust my agent Wayne we will find something great for me soon(er or later).
I was just preparing and researching stuff for my next job interview. I am not allowed to spread the word about it because you greedy people out there might just apply and -even worse- get the job. I am sure that Wayne would not approve. So let’s call that company ‘Spiggit’. ‘Spiggit’ sells fashion online and wants to build up a new community.
Home shopping? Internet? Fashion??? Hellohoo- sounds just like me!
My enthusiasm for fashion can sometimes be a disadvantage- for example when I am putting dresses and belts in my virtual shopping trolley while I was meant to go through the company’s financial figures. Damn!
I think it is in our genes. We probably want to look beautiful to attract men. (Outch!)
Wait a minute- in the world of birds males are carrying the bright and shiny feathers and females are just brown-ish boring fellers, right? They have to be impressed by the looks of their potential new partner. Interesting…
If I was a bird I would most certainly put some sparkly colourful bits on display to get friendly with a male that doesn’t even know the difference between pin-tucks and darts. Crazy world.
I have a man already anyway. But I still need clothes. Okay- I don’t NEED clothes, but I need to BUY clothes. Slight difference there I think. Still not fair though.
Sometimes I find myself superficial. Let’s change the subject to something … deeper.
Wayne said that I might have to prove that I am able to write blog posts. Well, I mainly blog in German so that my mum can understand it. And because I am funnier in German. I might have to start writing in English to prove to the world (and ‘Spiggit’) that I have a profound knowledge of the English language and that I am able to form sentences.
I started writing quite early. When I was 5 years old I was furious that my parents didn’t want to take me to the Michael Jackson Bad concert (I am still upset!) so I took a blue felt tip pen and wrote something very mean on our white living room wall. Okay, I WANTED to write something mean but had to work within my limited range:
“1 2 3 4 5 Juliane 3bert” (I always got confused with E and 3…). My parents deserved that and I was very proud of my achievement, had to go to bed early that night though.
I then started a diary when I was 12. It is a very boring diary- I mainly wrote about what I had eaten and watched on television. That changed dramatically when I got to secondary school- we created our own soap operas. Life was dramatic and tough and we were all fighting for survival- for example when we had to go to school and face the boys we had kissed at a spin the bottle party in my friend’s party cellar (strictly without tongue of course, it was the 90s!).
I finished about 35 diaries and it is still very painful to read them. That is part of the reason why they are hidden in a big box somewhere in another country. I was pretty convinced that I didn’t go through puberty. I always felt very grown-up and wise.
The proof that I was completely wrong comes in the form of 35 colourful books.
Whenever I got tired of writing I recorded my diaries on video tapes or audio cassettes. Nowadays I store and print out personal e-mails and blog posts. I also have a photo diary online and I twitter.
The thought of having a diary again doesn’t quite excite me any more- I mean why keep all of the great stories for myself, when I can share them with friends and stalkers?
I don’t really know where my clear obsession with trying to store every single memory of my life comes from but I sure do enjoy reading up on what I did last year. Or in 1999.