So I’m working on this big project taking a look at state lobbying laws, and the more I work on it, the more I think this entire area of law is a fucking mess. In some states, if a nonprofit group writes an open letter about a proposed law, they suddenly have an obligation to register as lobbyists and make huge financial disclosures. Other problems I’m running into are poorly defined terms (for example: when a governor vetoes a bill, is this an executive official engaged in legislative action? or an executive official engaged in executive action? If the latter, in what context does a law that applies to “attempts to influence executive officials in legislative action” apply?), contradictory information (I’m not kidding when I tell you there’s a state that lists different registration fees in the statutes passed by the legislature, the administrative code written by the governing agency, and on the website of that same agency), overly harsh penalties (really, a possibility of a $10,000 fine and ten years in jail for filing a financial disclosure form late?), and generally a lot of poorly considered, poorly executed rules. At any rate, I was joking with my supervising attorney that the general lack of scholarship on this subject means I have some fertile ground for journal notes this year.

Speaking of journals, I was accepted to three of the school’s journals this year (I applied to four) and I have to make a decision by Friday about which, if any, I sign on for. We have a meet-and-greet with the journals tomorrow night.

Yesterday I got to go to a cool cocktail reception with the lead attorneys from the ACLU on the Constance McMillen prom case. It’s kind of a neat story from the lawyer’s perspective. It started as a routine demand-letter situation and escalated into the center of a national media circus.

Not much else to report on. I’m falling into a The West Wing marathon, which is sure to destroy my concern for a social life for the next few days, even as I force myself to get out of the apartment.

Since I’ve been polishing up my resume for the legal market, there are a lot of interesting ways I’ve prostituted mahself made minimum wage that didn’t make the cut for the 1-page resume rule.

The first way I ever earned money was taking care of the lawns of elderly people in our neighborhood. I hated it. One of the biggest reasons I never want to own a house is that I never want to be responsible for taking care of the lawn. I wasn’t even allowed to quit this job, because Mom made me do it. She also volunteered my services for free to some cranky old people because that’s apparently what barely teenage slaves Boy Scouts are expected to do. In fairness, Mom usually helped me the whole time.

My first jerb that involved a corporate payroll and IRS records was working for Lagoon Amusement Park in Northern Utah. At first, the only thing I did was make sno cones underneath the old wooden roller coaster (pictured). Eventually, they moved me into the fancy burger-and-fries shack across the way which was less noisy and didn’t attract as many bees. That was the summer my family left Utah and moved to Vegas, so I spent the last part of the summer living with Grandma and Grandpa and taking the bus to work every day. I got the Phantom of the Opera soundtrack on cassette that summer and listened to it every single day on the way to and from work.

During my senior year of high school I worked for a place called Pistol Pete’s Pizza (now owned by Peter Piper’s Pizza) which was a rip-off of Chuck E. Cheese pizza. Basically, I worked the register, prize counter, food prep and games attendant roles a couple nights a week. It was shitty work and I got yelled at a lot. I didn’t want to be there but Mom thought I needed to be saving money for college and it was run by a nice Mormon man she sorta knew. I think this was the last job my Mom forced me to take and stay at. I did enjoy learning to fix the old, stupid games that jammed up all the time and making crying brats kids shut up by giving them free tokens whenever anything went wrong.

Between senior year and the beginning of college, I worked for the private party catering department at Wet n’ Wild, a water park in Las Vegas that got torn down a few years ago. That was an intense jerb. I’d start my day at 8am, leave at midnight and repeat for 4-5 days a week. Lots of overtime. Lots of sun. The DJ for every corporate employee appreciation party played TLC’s “Waterfalls” at least once an hour. And then there were hunky lifeguards I’d stare at during my lunch break without acknowledging to myself or anyone else that I was gay. Funny story, although I didn’t meet him until 4 years later when I moved back to Vegas, my first love was one of those hunky lifeguards I’d lust after in my deeply closeted way. We both worked there that summer but I wasn’t ready to deal with my obvious queer desire and he was also lusting after the other lifeguards and paid no attention to the nerdy catering staff.

My worst job during college was a graveyard shift I took for a donut bakery. Our bakery supplied donuts to convenience stores all over Reno, so the bakers would finish baking them around 10pm and I’d be by myself in the shop until 4am packing the donuts into boxes for the delivery guy. If you enjoy donuts, don’t go behind the scenes at one of these big bakeries. Also, if you’re in school full time, working on campus, and participating in theatre during the evening, a graveyard shift is not a good idea. I spent a month hyped up on caffeine and flunking my classes. I think that’s the first job I quit by simply calling in “no longer interested” without giving notice or anything.

After college, I worked for a short time as lap dance test subject at a gay erotic dance revue. Okay, so 90% of what I did was take money at the door, operate the sound/light, and run errands, but whenever a new dancer needed to be trained in how to give a lap dance (as it turns out, they weren’t usually hired for their dancing ability), I got to be the lap dancee. Probably because it made me really uncomfortable and that was a good thing for the guys to learn how to deal with.

So, yeah, those jerbs (along with about a billion retail clerk jerbs … JC Penney, Gap, Nature Store, Gap, Macy’s, Gap… boring!) have been officially struck from my resume for all time.

Yesterday, I tried to decide how developed Martha Stewart’s arms must be since she apparently believes that the only dished worthy of carrying her brand name weigh between 50 and 75 pounds each. From there, I tried to develop (in my head) a combination workout/baking routine where you could burn as many calories cooking the desserts as you would take in by eating an entire batch of chewy chocolate chip cookies.

But today, we were doing inventory in the jewelry department. I got the “bargain” counter. After spending 3 hours untangling crappy $8 necklaces, I started in on boxed items, which led me to muse…

The estimated ratio of insects to humans is 200 million to 1. My estimated ratio of crappy bejeweled pins/brooches in the shape of insects to humans is at least 400 million to 1.

But if there is such demand for ugly, cheap brass and rhinestone bugs, why don’t I ever see anyone wearing them? Who buys them (aside from guys desperately looking for something for Mom but thinking “she already has earrings”)? Where do they go?

I’m left to assume this is one of those great feminine mysteries that men–gay or straight–will never really figure out. Perhaps it has something to do with menstruation and the ability to win every argument. Or maybe the sparkly bugs contain the secret of formal event fashion options (as opposed to “look, it’s another black tux!”).

Perhaps we will never know.

I have to up at an unrealistically early hour every day this week for inventory. Like first-bus-going-downtown early. Like I-have-to-go-to-bed-when-the-sun-goes-down early. Like before-the-coffee-shops-open early.

Let’s have 3-year-old Jere from 1980 describe how this makes us feel:

At least it’s distracting me from sitting in the art room, staring down at the street for signs the mail carrier is making her way down our avenue with a big, thick envelope from a law school addressed to me.

Today is the last shopping day for Christmas 2008. Stores will be closing early.

I’m working at el deparmento storo until 6, when the lights go out and the holiday music finally gets shut off.

If you’re planning on doing some shopping today, please remember: you’re the dumb fuck who waited until Christmas Eve to find the perfect gift. I’m sure you have awesome excuses for why you fail at life, but please, please do not take out your stress and agitation on the retail clerks of the world. They’ve been dealing with the most wonderful time of the year shopping madness for ever a month now. They are tired, cranky, doing their best to stay cheerful…

Yesterday, I was genuinely jolly with 90% of my customers. I smiled, I went out of my way to be helpful, I was compassionate.

You know who got treated like shit? The people who treated me (or other customers/associates – oh yes, we notice) like shit.

So, if you still haven’t found something Mom will like, or just found out your sister will be in town after all, or got your holiday bonus yesterday and decided to pick up a few more things for the kids, or simply need to get away from the family bonding, that’s fine. Just don’t leave the wishes for peace and joy at home.

I worked the closing shift, which means I arrived as half our department staff was finishing up their shifts that started at 4 and 5 in the morning. The “doorbuster” sales were wrapping up and we had steady lines at the registers for the first few hours. Then the clock switched over and we went from having dedicated buyers on a mission to people who seemed to be shopping only because they were trying to fill their day with activity to escape family.

People came into the store in bad moods and took it out on the staff. Look, I don’t care how horrible and stressful your Thanksgiving dinner was, that’s no reason for you to act like an asshole to people whose entire weekly salary wouldn’t cover the leather jacket you’re buying your son.

My low point in the day came from a young family. Mom, Dad, and their little daughter aged 5ish. Dad went into the fitting room to try on about 20 designer label sweaters. Mom, tired and obviously cranky, decided she wanted to sit down. Instead of sitting in one of the 3 empty fitting rooms (which would have been fine), she spotted a low table covered in sweaters. Deciding her need to sit was the most important thing in our collective lives, she simply reached down and knocked two piles of sweaters onto the floor. No, she didn’t pick them up and move them. No, she didn’t accidentally knock them over. She deliberately pushed them into an unfolded, ugly pile on the floor. Then she proceeded to sit down and hold her little girl on her lap. The little girl decided that while Mommy was holding her, she’d make an even bigger mess by pushing more things off the table. I had enough when the young girl started playing with the mannequin sitting on the table, threatening to knock it to the floor as well. So I mustered up my most subservient, friendly, empathetic smile and said, “Ma’am, I can’t let you sit on that table, it’s not load-bearing and it could be unsafe.” Without even looking at me, she replied in the nastiest voice possible, “Well, I need to sit somewhere.” “You could take a seat in one of the fitting rooms.” “I can’t do that, those are men’s fitting rooms. I’m staying here until my husband is finished.” “Okay, but can you at least keep your daughter from playing with the mannequin? I’m worried it might fall of the table and break, or hurt someone.” At this point, Mommy Dearest, without another word to me, yanked her daughter around and forced her to sit with folded arms for the next ten minutes through a sort of obnoxious bear hug hold I’ve only ever seen with toddlers in church. Her husband didn’t like any of the sweaters he tried on and left them all inside-out in a pile in the dressing room. I’m sure they both thought I was unpleasant and rude, but I did my best to keep the internal “I’m gonna cut a bitch” thoughts from leaking through.

Other highlights: since we were sponsors of the Fountain Square tree-lighting ceremony, we got a crush of people at the end of the day (most of them were looking for a bathroom or bringing their little one in to see Santa); I hate my store’s coupon policy – they put so many exclusions on the coupons that they’re basically a useless piece of bait to get folks in the store; and why is it so difficult to pick up a pile of sweaters or folded pants, remove the size you need, and set the pile back down? Must you simply yank it out of the bottom of the pile and mess up everything that was previously sitting on top of it?

You know, I’ve never really understood why people are so rude to those who work in service industries. A waiter, retail clerk, receptionist, bartender, hotel cleaning staff, or flight attendant has to be pretty intolerably awful to me before I’m going to give them attitude. Okay, some of my coworkers aren’t the brightest bulbs in the landfill, but give me a break. I’m constantly getting this condescending attitude from douchebags in business suits who assume a 30-something guy working retail must be a moron. I constantly want to tell them that despite appearances, I’m most likely smarter than they are, that I’ve had a great career doing things that they would find fascinating and much more exciting than whatever it is that they do that causes them to look so lifeless and tired, and that I chose to take a year off from high-stress career stuff to center myself before 3 years of law school and 10 (or more) years of student loan repayments as a young lawyer.

But really, I just need to remind myself of that. Pulling a 9 hour shift on Black Friday can be stressful. After you’ve been on your feet for 8 and a half hours, those customers who refuse to believe that the store is actually closing can be stressful. Rude, inconsiderate assholes who feel good about themselves by picking on folks working for something close to minimum wage can be stressful. Wondering if I’ll get enough shift to have the money I need saved for when my student loan payments come knocking again in a few months is stressful. Not having the time or money to visit my family this holiday season can be stressful. But I honestly don’t care about this job in the least. If I were laid off tomorrow, my only concern would be finding another job to tide me over until my teaching gig (which I do sorta care about) picks up in the spring.

Somehow, I’ve got 6 days off in a row. My next shift isn’t until next Friday. Unless they change the schedule on me, though, it’ll be pretty solid after that through Christmas.

So we had Thanksgiving dinner a night late so that some of our friends could be there after doing the family obligation dinner on Thursday. After I got home, we had about 6 people come over for some turkey and pie. I’ve spent two nights watching marathons of True Blood and Weeds on the computer (I just finished watching Kiss the Bride again – I think it’s a flawed, but very cute movie). I have an idea for a novel poking around in my head, but it’s not quite ready to come out. I think I’ll spend some time this week flushing out a plot.

I also got my first law school decision back. It seems I’ve been waitlisted at one of the top 14 schools in the nation. It’s not an acceptance, but it’s not a flat rejection, either. It was also the first application I sent in, and each application was stronger and better put together than the ones before it. I anticipate hearing back from at least one more school before the New Year, and I’m betting on an acceptance from that one. Most of my decisions will probably come in January – when I’ve also got to work on my financial aid applications.

Anyway, now you’re caught up.

I think I read somewhere in my seasonal employment contract that I was obligated to watch part of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade on TV. Which is a much more awesome excuse than just admitting that I sorta like the crappy television tradition. Fingers crossed that next year I can maybe see the real thing if I’m not too busy prepping for finals.

Since Jen, Jacob and I aren’t really doing anything to mark the day, I decided to start a True Blood marathon. I like it so far.

The only positive thing I can say about tomorrow’s work schedule is that at least time flies when it’s really busy and at least I get the 9-hour closing shift instead of the 9-hour opening shift that starts at 4 or 5 am.

This year I’m thankful for good friends, near and far, who have been amazingly supportive of my quest to get into law school. I’m thankful for Facebook reconnecting me with some awesome friends from my past (I almost cried the other day when I saw photos from a college Thanksgiving dinner at Lindsay and Robert’s place). I’m always thankful for my family and their love (this has been another traumatic November, but I’m trying to see things differently… instead of focusing on the fact that bad things happen a lot in my family this time of year, I’m trying to recognize that we always seem to pull through it anyway).

Now, time to enjoy my holiday feast of Whoppers^®.

Not to beat a dead horse, but I think in light of the economic realities of our country and the current queer community zeitgeist, this video and this event seems especially tone deaf and ill-advised. I question whether the “leader” of O&E has two brain cells to rub against one another.

National LGBT leadership and organizations are facing unprecedented criticism in the wake of Prop 8 and their failures. Numerous blogs and queer press editorials are openly challenging the HRC and other national organizations for their focus on shopping or spa day fundraisers. The twitter, Facebook and online activism that spawned nationwide protests has been cited as a shift in direction for the community, we will no longer sit by and let a few corporate-backed activists call all the shots.

Corporate activism had its place. It’s yet to be determined if it still has a place. For instance, hundreds (if not thousands) of queer folks have decided not to view Milk at Cinemark movie theaters after the Mormon CEO gave a $9,999 donation to help pass Prop 8. Openly gay Cinemark VP Bob Shimmin responds by listing off the many corporate queer-friendly things the business has done. His defense of spending money with Cinemark that pays Alan Stock’s salary, which is then used to support anti-equality efforts, rings a bit hollow. That LGBT liaison, those domestic partner benefits, even the philanthropic support of queer events (and lets face it, that’s just a marketing effort to win customers) just aren’t enough after the emotionally crushing slap-in-the-face that was Prop 8.

Two years ago, as an employee at Out & Equal Workplace Advocates, I truly did believe that changing workplace cultures was one of the key battlegrounds in the equality movement. I might have made the same arguments Shimmin did. See, most of us spend the bulk of our lives as adults at work where we have limited options about who we work with (as opposed to our social lives where we have nearly limitless control over the type of people we interact with), and having a management directive to show respect to your LGBT coworkers does make a difference. It has made a difference. However, it’s time for the next step.

Domestic partner benefits, nondiscrimination policies, and philanthropic (marketing) giving have taken us as far as they are going to. Increasingly, these things are expected of businesses that want to be competitive in talent and customer loyalty. We still need a nationwide ENDA and a solution to tax inequalities for employees in domestic partnerships rather than marriages, but we don’t owe these corporations any special loyalty for simply doing what is required to benefit their fiscal bottom line – which is treat the LGBT community like a powerful and important marketing niche.

For now, though, it’s time to work outside the corporate comfort zone. CEOs and prominent employees will be held accountable for their “private views” when they take money from profits made off the queer community. Openly queer executives and managers need to break out of the bubble that is their mandated queer-friendly workplace environment and pay attention to the younger, poorer, more discriminated-against members of the community. The next generation of activism will not take place at cocktail parties and $250-plate receptions, it is beginning with college students, retail clerks, grassroots activists and working pairs of moms or dads.

Look, for two years my job was to advise Out & Equal about communications issues. Here’s a free piece of advice to O&E and all other LGBT nonprofit groups: it’s time to change your game. The pulse of the community is demanding action that knocks down the remaining prejudices, which are all too obvious in the wake of Prop 8. Promoting big corporations and holding golf tournaments while many of us wonder how we’re going to pay our bills in the next few months isn’t progress. It isn’t even progressive.

Learn the lesson and change now, or you will soon know exactly what it feels like to be unemployed in a recession market.

I’m now on day 3 of sleeping more than waking because of a nasty cold. I’m starting to feel like my normal self again, but I’m not back to 100%.

I’ve been a little sparse on the personal details of late, so I thought I’d update a little more about what’s going on in my life. Since returning to Cincinnati from my New York trip, I’ve been putting in double efforts on finding work. It’s definitely not a good market to be searching in right now. I’ve been sending out a lot of resumes without much luck. I assume three things are working against me: that I’m overqualified for a lot of the jobs I’m applying to, that my resume reads like a rainbow flag in a community that isn’t exactly known for progressive politics, and the economy in general has created a shortage of decent jobs. All that said, I’m still keeping my head up. I’ve got an audition for a tutoring gig this week, I applied to Americorps, and I’ve made some inquiries with LGBT-friendly folks in the area who aren’t themselves hiring but might have some good advice on where I can look.

At this point, I’m seriously considering holiday retail to at least get some cash coming in. I’ve got student loan payments to make and the only thing holding me back from submitting my law school apps at this point is my bank balance ($4.39 this morning).

So, yeah, money is a big concern at the moment. I’m trying to remain optimistic. I’m not the only one struggling to find work. Jacob hasn’t been having an easier time of it, either.

There’s also been family stuff going on that I won’t get into right here and now, but last week included some upsetting news. Someday, my good health karma (compared to the rest of the family) is going to come back to haunt me. Either that, or I’ll follow the Keys men pattern and live far, far longer than anyone expects.

Anyway, I’m wide open to ideas on employment right now. If you know of a good opportunity for work in the city – especially general office support positions – please let me know.

Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. I’ve made it abundantly clear in my letter of resignation, my exit interview, my letter to the board of directors, and all my personal conversations with members of the management team that I left for one reason and one reason only, I think Selisse Berry, executive director of Out & Equal is the single worst and most incompetent boss I have encountered in 17 years of being a member of the workforce.

Don’t believe anyone who tells you otherwise.