Sunday, December 04, 2011

In Which I Discuss My Boobs and My Career

I've been doing some interviewing, recently. (If you're on my team and reading this, please don't freak out. It'll be fine, it just never hurts to talk to people.)

It's not that I don't like my job, I do. I have a wonderful boss, a great team, and I'm given a ridiculous amount of freedom. That being said, we have a lot of process issues, and ultimately, I'm really tired of working 70-80 hour weeks for not enough money.

I was even OK with the ridiculous hours, until I worked 40 hours in one weekend, and instead of getting a "thank you" from the person who's ass I saved, I was instead forwarded a badly spelled email about how I need to be "more supportive" of the mistakes of the people on his team.

That was the line.

So I figured, what the hell, I'll answer some of the recruiters who call me every day and see what's out there.

Consequently, I landed an interview with a huge company out in California, that pays pretty well. No idea what the outcome is, but things seem to be progressing nicely.

With one exception.

And that exception is my Mother.

Now, don't get me wrong. I love my mom. She's one of my best friends, and arguably she's the one I get my sense of humor from. She's an amazing lady, and I wouldn't change a thing about her.

She doesn't necessarily understand what it is I do, and the IT/eCommerce world is foreign to her. However it's in a mother's nature to try to impart wisdom on their children, so without fail, whenever I tell my mother I have an interview, she says the same thing.

"Cover your boobs".

It's not like I run around like those women in National Geographic or anything, but my mom's side of the family has blond hair, blue eyes, and the women aren't necessarily curvy. The women on my father's side of the family have dark hair, dark eyes, curves, and big honkin boobs.

Guess which side I take after?

Because of that, I could have cleavage in a turtleneck. I've managed to reign the twins in for the most part, but they aren't going to go anywhere. This was further evidenced by the fact that one of the first things my new work husband said to me was "I'm sorry, but I can't stop looking at your boobs".

So, in the absence of any other relevant advice, we always come back to my sweater puppies. It doesn't matter the situation, the advice remains the same. The interview I had was over the phone, the first thing my mom said to me was "did you cover your boobs?"

Apparently, you can see them from California. Over the phone.

But, it's not terrible advice. It never hurts to be reminded to cover the twins. Unlike most of the women in the L.A. area, I've never had a nip slip.  I think my mom could contract her services out in Hollywood for a shitload of money. But barring that, it's a nice reminder that even though she has no idea what I'm talking about, she cares.

Either that or she doesn't want her daughter parading around like a whore.

I like to think it's the caring thing, though.

No comments: