The Unemployment Diaries

Strike #1 (24.12.09)

Don’t trust the friends of your parents’ friends. Or unions…

Forgive me reader, I have lied to you. Since honesty is the foundation of good journalism, I will turn this blog into a virtual confessional and atone for my sin: I’m not starting my job-hunt from scratch.

A friend of my mom’s e-mailed me months ago when I was spending my days staring at the cute lifeguard on a beach in Calabria. Different times…

She knew of a communications position opening at ACTRA in Montreal, an organization that helps find work for an negotiate contracts of Canadian performers. She told me if I was looking for a job, I should get in touch with her friend, Raymond. “Either way,” she wrote, “he’s a good person to know.”

At the moment I was only looking for the perfect tan, but not wanting to give up a golden opportunity (!), I e-mailed Raymond between sips of Grappa. After a series of messages I came clean I was an ocean away, and we agreed to touch base when I came back.

I check my e-mail six months later in London, just days before heading back to Canada. There’s a note from ol’Ray. He’s saying they haven’t hired, and that if I’m still interested in meeting, he’ll be in Ottawa over the holidays.

Ha! Who said I’d be slinging brunch for the next five years? I practically had a job without stepping foot in Canada.

I give Raymond a call the day after I arrive.

“Oh yes, Angeellllina,” he says enthusiastically, probably his way of welcoming me to the team, right?

We small talk for a bit before turning to business.

“Listen,” says Raymond, tentatively. “We’ve been thrown a bit of a curveball in the last few days.”

Curveball? Curveball sounds okay. I never played baseball, but I’m young, savvy and adaptable. Throw all the curveballs you like Ray-dawg…

“The guy who left the position came to the office the other day to say he wants his job back,” he says. “His wife’s pregnant so he wants to start working again. Because we’re a union, we have to give it to him.” Strike out.

He apologizes and says he was excited at the prospect of new blood.

I’m let down. Would’ve been great to move to Montreal. On the other hand,   communications is the enemy of daily news journalism. All that supporting and promoting something, rather than criticizing and getting at the “truth.”

Maybe this was one of those blessing-in-disguise things?

(Me taking the bads news…and realizing it’s good news!)

I go back to the dugout smiling, chew some tobacco, and decide that if I’m going to play ball, I better use the right bat…

(If your parents know people in high places feel free to contact me...)