Interview Preparation 101

If you are going to an interview there are a number of things you must prepare, such as a chic suit, matching shoes and handbag, minimalist but sophisticated accessories, a map for directions because you do not want to get lost on the way, and umm.. oh! an idea of what you are going to say.

It is highly advisable to prepare beforehand for the predictable questions, one of which could be: “What are your strengths and weaknesses?” Ah, the classic question. Excerpts from brainstorming of anonymous whose name begins with a “T” and ends with a “Z” and rhymes with “bees”, as follows:

My weaknesses:

• I don’t think I have a weakness. I suppose that is a weakness in itself.
• I procrastinate. I tend to work better and more effectively when under pressure. So I still don’t think that is necessarily a weakness.
• I like to delay my work to write in my blog. And boy if you read my blog, you wouldn’t think that was a weakness either.
• After my humble confessions above, you would be utterly surprised to know that I am a narcissist. But people are more accepting of such syndromes these days, so I don’t worry about it.

Clearly anonymous was having trouble on what was seemingly a very simple question. But really, there should be no trouble at all. The trick to answering “what are your weaknesses” questions is to seem as though you are answering it, but in actual fact you are still not answering it. The point of an interview is to sell yourself, even when you are talking about your “weaknesses”. Refer to excerpts of our anonymous’ revised answer:

My weaknesses:

• I procrastinate. I tend to work better and more effectively when under pressure. *sigh* (Actual message: I can work under time-pressures)
• I am not very spontaneous. I have trouble working in a disorganized way or environment. I would be lost if I didn’t understand the big picture and plan out the small steps and details first. This is such a disadvantage because not all organizations are organized. *sigh* (Actual message: I am extremely organized and detailed. I have high expectations that this office will be as professionally organized as it promotes itself to be. If not I may as well not be here. )
• I don’t know how to use the typewriter. (Actual message: Quite obvious)

So that concludes our lesson for today boys and girls. Now go ace that interview!

My favorite fasting topic: Food.

The best thing to do during fasting month is to cook. As you work with the food your sight and senses are invoked, and yet you are forbidden to taste it. It is like teasing foreplay. You can only imagine, through the smell and the sound of simmers and sizzles, what it will taste like in the end. And this doubles the pleasure of finally eating when the time comes (except, of course, if it turns out looking like an incinerated version of what was originally planned).

But this post’s raison d’etre is not to wax lyrical on the sophisticated joys of cooking. That would be rather over the top coming from me. The only reason I cooked on Sunday was because I was accompanying my brother (who actually wanted to cook) at the grocery store in the morning and I suddenly felt the urge to shop. And I suddenly felt the urge to buy expensive shrimp. And so on.

Anyways, pictures!





















Teez's Penne with Pan-Fried Shrimp in Tomato Puree topped with Cilantro and Black Olives





















Brother's Soft & Chewy Oatmeal Cookies

A rose by any other name...

I’ve never really been given a formal job description and title, which caused a bit of confusion at the beginning. I had imagined (based on the sketchy description they explained during my interview) something in the lines of analyst, or researcher.

As it turns out, I am practically supposed to be able to do everything and anything, short of making coffee for the boss. I’ve been asked to brief him on how his newest gadget works, and charge its batteries while I’m at it. I’ve been asked to touch up photos, and run errands to get it printed, framed and delivered. I’ve been asked to look for gifts and birthday cards and books. I’ve been asked to answer to invitations and letters and a whole lot of other secretarial stuff. Practically, this adds up to one thing: I am an assistant.

And the whole of last week, my work consisted primarily of filing uh… files. Because we all know that I signed up for this job to be a filing assistant.

However, on top of that I have also been asked to be policy expert, speechwriter, event organizer, analyst, and researcher. I have no idea what that makes me. Finally, for the sake of having something to put in my CV, I decided to settle with "executive assistant" as my self-proclaimed position in this current employment.

Because it would be rather odd to come across “Work Experience/ Position: Government/ Multi-Tasker” on a resume.

Insecure.

In the course of life (and I speak with all the aged wisdom of a 23-year old) things become unpredictable more often. But this is not to be a final conclusion or a simplified assumption. I’m only saying that when you are young(er) you do not plan things (you dream things) and things happen to you and you do not stop to think of its meaning for you are enjoying yourself to the full. When you are old(er) you plan things and things may happen or may not, and when they do not you lose a slice of a sense of control and predictability over your life.

A major (major!) glitch in my plans happened this morning. I have been telling myself that if this happens I would be perfectly alright and under control and I would simply “pick myself up, dust myself off and start all over again” as Diana Krall or whoever it was who created that song puts it. So it happened, and with it came the realization that I have never been good at dealing with failures. The taste is like a bludgeon made of iron which floors you and knocks the breath out of your lungs. And suddenly you feel, for a fraction of a while, like you don’t really know where you’re going and what you are capable of doing. And then the fraction of a while lasts a little longer.

And because life is a joke, my calendar of proverbs, a flimsy thing which I got from a friend who got it from a friend’s wedding, today says: “A great person is a person who successfully rises after a fall”.

Cheers to me being a great person. Maybe in another fraction of a while.

our underdiscussed television malady

An article I’ve been unconsciously waiting for has finally presented itself in my favorite newspaper. It starts like this:

“Imagine a production-line where the manufacturer knows little of the consumers, but still claims to understand their tastes. Well imagine not, this is real. Welcome to Indonesia’s sinetron (TV soap-opera) industry… a dream-factory that’s way out of touch with its audience…”

For many years I have been troubled by the following thought: if Indonesian TV shows are so overwhelmingly disgustingly bad, what can we say of the taste of its viewers? Because as far as the robust theory of supply and demand goes, if you find producers making abundant supply, you may assume they are doing it because of the heavy demand.

This article somewhat calms me down. We are apparently not so much the nation full of Machiavellian mother-in-laws and over-dramatized bitchy teenagers. On the contrary, research hints the whole nation might be thinking the same thing: TV soaps are stupid. The TV producers are too lazy to crawl out of their nook and explore the higher intellect of their consumers. Apparently it’s the ratings they care about, and apparently ratings are not a benchmark to measure a consumer’s liking for the show. There could be a variety of reasons why ratings are high, one of which could be that the audience has no other choice.

A case in point would be my mother, who spends one and a half hours every single day watching soap whilst chastising its plot, its script, its actors, its producers, but also anyone who dares take away the remote control to change the channel. Even the maid (who is an elementary school drop-out) has declared soaps to be 'beyond common sense" and remains a faithful soap-fan.

I find it utterly intriguing that a huge TV production industry whose very existence depends on the audience’s taste, does not care about the audience’s taste. And still survives!

Last night I, yet again, fell asleep at 8pm, and would have done the (rare act of) waking up at 8am the next morning (because it’s Saturday), if it weren’t for the fact that it’s fasting month, and we must have breakfast at 4am.

So wake up I did at 4am, grudgingly, and reached out to turn my bedside lamp on. It didn’t. I ignored it, commenced on doing the very difficult procedure of swinging my legs on to the floor and sitting up without experiencing a sudden and very uncomfortable blood-rush to the head, failed, waited for said blood-rush to fade, and finally stood up to turn on my bedroom light. It didn’t. Drowsily I went out and peered into the kitchen, and there were my parents, eating by candlelight. It would have been a romantic scene if it weren’t for the fact that a) it was 4-fucking-a.m. and b) the electricity had blacked out.

The phone rang. I picked it up, and it was my brother on the other line reporting that he was having tuna sandwich for breakfast except that he couldn’t find the friggin' tuna coz it was so friggin' dark and he didn’t know where he kept the torch.

I think in the end he managed, as did we, and the taste of our food was apparently not affected by the lack of its visibility. After “breakfast” I snuggled back in bed to retrieve my disturbed sleep, and this time the darkness was comforting and most welcome.

As soon as I closed my eyes, the lights went back on.

Fair Dinkum

So I’m back from Sydney for the you-know-what multilateral event, in which I very surprisingly enjoyed myself, considering the workload and minimum amount of sleep I managed. When government delegates go on a trip, a multitude of parties, departments, sections, rankings, and roles come along for the ride. The mastery lies in weaving your way through this tangle of bureaucracy in order to get your work done, while at the same time escaping from this tangle of bureaucracy to make sure you have some quality personal time once work is completed.

As a manifestation of effective resource management, I left the “weaving through” part to my colleague who is significantly more skillful at it, and found myself more talented at the “escaping” part.

So together we managed snippets of free time to enjoy the city. A few pictures are in order. Oh but let it be known first that I only plan to post food pictures. I like food. Besides, other pictures would be show-off pictures with important people, so I’m sparing you the *What...Everrr*.

That would be “Oven Baked Victoria Scallops in Shell with Parmesan and White Sauce”, practically the biggest most succulent scallops I’ve ever had.

















That would be the “Special Seafood Platter for Two”, filled with lobsters, giant prawns, octopus, scallops, fish and chips, squid, and oysters. The “for Two” part of its name sounded distant and comical as we (both) made our way through our little platter. The real gems were the oysters, eaten raw with a squeeze of lemon, incredibly fresh and tender. I know some people who think raw oysters are disgusting and frankly I pity them.

That would be the view we enjoyed over dinner. Food for sight, you see. (In case you were wondering about said picture’s relevance.)

And yes, people. That would be paid with your tax money.