Click on the picture for some snow pleasure.

Now that I got a full-time job, I can’t wait to get to work, even on the weekend.

No matter!

You make out of life with whatever it presents you.

This weekend, good old Mother Nature presented me with snow. Not a lot but enough to sculpt visions of a better tomorrow and maybe evening (wink, wink).

As you can see, I got to work right away. As my boyfriend likes to say, “Time is money.” I agree, from the top of my thigh highs to the bottom of my butt cheeks. [All this unemployment stuff has left me without underwear, but I haven't had any complaints.]

Back to the snow. It changes how everything looks but not how we think.

Having to go to work in the snow makes me think that it’s going to be hard to get in and then pay attention when I’m there. I never know when one of my kid’s school might send an email alert saying that the school will close early because of the threat of more snow.

I’m also wet and uncomfortable. All that salt that’s thrown on the street and sidewalks turns snow into a big slushy that’s dirty and ugly. Makes me think of leaving early.

When I am at home, the snow lets me sculpt and give form to my desires. I think I’m talented enough to create them. Take, for instance this snow sculpture. Here’s where snow blurs the line between work and a hobby.

Moving forward in life, my work will be my hobby, or I’m going to get a new job.

All I can say to the employers who passed me up or never gave me the time of a phone call, here’s what you’re missing. That’s what I looked like when I celebrated my job offer. I look much more like a schoolmarm in the office.

In my new job, I’m an editor for an educational publishing company. Lots of instructional design stuff, with a dynamic international component. A small company (under 100 employees) but one that continues to grow. I commend its leadership for not laying off anyone since the start of this recession, unlike my former employer.

I’ve been temping here for the past seven months. I think I’ve been the longest temp-for-hire at this company.

I also think it’s important to note that I didn’t get my job networking, applying to a blind online ad or attending a job fair. I got it through an editorial temp agency I had registered with. [My relationship with the temp agency, however, ended a few months ago when I was allowed to directly contract with the company.]

Shortly after my position was eliminated in November 2008, I had my resume professionally redone. I can’t say it helped. Throughout my 15-month-unemployment streak, I applied to about 60 jobs and received responses from less than six. That job search only resulted in one in-person interview and two phone interviews. I think that’s a pretty sad commentary.

Some of my readers have asked me if I’ll continue Girl On the Brink. The answer is a resounding yes! Just because I got a job doesn’t mean that my troubles are over. I’ll be in the “Reconstructing Ann” phase for quite a while as I rebuild my life in dimensions that are not soley financial, though they’re a good part of it. Moreover, an online service is seeking to buy the rights to Girl On the Brink.

As I rebuild, I’m canceling my remaining government benefits—Medicaid and food stamps. Actually, I didn’t reapply for food stamps because my contract income exceeded the program’s income requirements.

My ex, however, remains unemployed since his contract was terminated right before Christmas. He’s applying for them now.

If I were truly Ann, she’d be planning her next escape to the islands. Believe me, that has been on my mind. I’d do just about anything for a plane ticket to St. Barts but will settle for an apartment with a few from the top!

Unless, of course, there are any confident men who would take me up on an escape to the islands.

If a man even attempts to ask, “Do I look fat in this?” I know he’s not suave enough to be the guy for me. If he demurs, proving he has a strong sense of self-preservation, I will eventually ask him, “Was your last girlfriend as pretty as me?”

Anything other than “no,” and he’s history.

If he asks me, “Your place or mine?” then he just clearly hasn’t been paying attention since he is not coming to my house unless he makes house repairs for free, or wants to meet my ex husband, who lives with me.

The other question that drives me crazy is, “Was it good for you?” If you have to ask, bub, then something went wrong. You should be able to tell.

Only a complete idiot would ask, “Have you had plastic surgery?” (I haven’t, but are you buying?), “How many times have you been married?” (Twice, but please let me bring that up.), or “What kind of car do you drive?” (I have no car and, no, I don’t want to talk about that either).

Of course, those are questions that are governed by politeness and a man’s ever-deliberate drive to get laid.

It is better that a man be courteous and respectful, of course, but if that’s too much to ask, you’d think at least he’d consider the impact of stupid questions on the course of our date or relationship.

At work, on the other hand, the forbidden questions are banished, not just by custom but by law. In a job interview, they can’t ask, “Are you married?” or “Do you have any pre-existing medical conditions we should know about?”

Once you’re in the workplace only a complete fool—though an honest one—would ask me: “Would you unbutton one more button on that blouse?” or even “Would you like to get a drink with me after work?”

There is a guy who is usually in the lunchroom when I am, and he can’t seem to come up with anything to say to me other than “Are you going to finish that?” I find that to be a truly loathsome question. I hate everything about it. I tell him “yes,” and when he leaves, I throw the rest of my food away. I mean, really.

Many questions have no meaning. “How are you?” is a rote greeting. The question mark is superfluous. “Do you want to dance?” has almost been rendered obsolete. You want to dance?   So dance. I try not to ask myself, “what did I do to deserve this?” although it is in my head all the time.

My favorite ridiculous question of all time is at the end of a relationship. Like all women, I ask “Can we still be friends?”

Don’t bother to get stressed by this one guys, the answer doesn’t matter at all.

A recent news story reported that Michigan governor Jennifer Granholm’s handlers found in their tests that people resisted saying they’d vote for her.

They said she was too beautiful to be a governor. Maybe they could picture her as a pop star or fashion model but not a woman of power.

This could mean that frumpy is reassuring, I don’t know. It surely is a problem that is unique to women, both in the workplace and beyond. Does anyone ever reject a man for projecting an image that is too virile, too attractive, too much in command?

I can’t claim to be beautiful, but I do have a face that, for both better and worse, attracts men’s attention. Through the careful application of modern scientific techniques, it is remarkably well preserved.

I’m generally pleased with the rest of me, too, but let’s just focus on the territory from the chin on up. In most cases in the workplace, this attribute is entirely neutral. No one cares one way or another. It is not like I stand out.

Still, work environments are caldrons of jealousies and desires, just like any place where human animals gather. More than once I’ve felt a coolness from women in the office from whom I may have taken away the attention of a man they had their eye on.

Men visit my office just to chat. They’re hitting on me in the most lighthanded way, but we both understand what it’s about. Occasionally, a supervisor or the big cheese will give me more attention than a lowly temp would normally merit. But I dress strictly professionally and if a man even comes close to asking me out, I can give him a reception that chills to the bone, sending him on his way.

There are many things I need, but an office affair is surely not among them. It does give me pause when the higher ups flirt with me, but so far I haven’t gotten any offers I couldn’t refuse. My point is only that the arrival of a beautiful face into the sea of other faces causes some adjustment in the general ecology of emotion and allegiances. If the face is attached to your head, you are the disruptive influence. This is not the best way to ingratiate yourself.

Outside of work having a face that men enjoy looking at is close to being an unalloyed benefit. I almost always get to decide if a nascent relationship goes anywhere because he almost always wants to see me again. Still, I find that the roles being offered to me in men’s lives are based on how they view me in very subtle ways.

Since we’re past the breeding phase, men are not shopping for a mother for their children. The men near my age are confirmed bachelors, divorced or widowed. If they have children the kids have long since flown the coop. They’ve have free time, money to spend and expensive toys and hobbies.

I, of course, have none of these things.

They do want to share them with me, but there is also an element of my being brought on as yet another (expensive) toy and hobby. That party requires a good-looking date on their arm. Men celebrate their success by having a beautiful woman to show off, an ornament, a trophy significant other even if she’s not a wife.

I don’t mind being able to exploit having a face that turns men on. I like it. It has brought me fun and adventure, not to mention husbands and children. I can’t help but think, however, that if I had my own professional success, my own money, my own standing and independence that I’d be invited to join the lives of the men I date as the woman, not the girl.

But then something stopped you that broke the mood.

One of you had to go to the bathroom. Your girlfriend said she was on her period. She didn’t tell you she was really a man. [You failed to read the fine print in her online dating profile.]

Whatever the reason, it was reason enough to stop.

Most people know when to stop when it comes to sex. If only the same could be said for people who work. How they still keep their jobs is beyond me, but they do, despite the stupid, insincere or heartless things they say to their boss or co-workers and vice versa.

Sometimes, what you say at work can get you fired. It happened to me eons ago.

As a temp (yes, I started out that way and seem to have come full circle), I answered phones for a big D.C. law firm. A letter arrived for one of the partners, but I didn’t deliver it to his desk.

When he asked me about it, I made a snarky comment that ended my career as a receptionist. I still have no regrets, and it didn’t influence my career path.

I’ve never said anything like that to a boss again, though I’ve felt like it.

I did assign a former boss’ cell phone number a ringtone of a cow mooing. (I know, a bit juvenile but oh so much fun!) She was a bad boss because she didn’t know how to manage people, which should be a prerequisite for a boss, just like a secretary should know how to type.

While career counselors criticize employees for spouting off, employers also say things they shouldn’t.  Telling a laid-off employee, “How’s the family?” is heartless, and fake empathy — “I know how you feel.” — is patronizing.

“I’m sure you’re surprised” is another bad thing to say.

If a relationship is to come to an end, it should be no more of a surprise than a girlfriend who says, “I’m pregnant.”

Despite the no-nos of holiday office parties, they will take advantage of the mistletoe and alcohol to gather their courage and hit on you, guaranteed.

This is a phenomenon that occurs frequently in nature. There is nothing you can do to stop it, but you can slow it down. But that’s your choice.

No cleavage that day. Stay the f—ck away from the mistletoe. Always travel in groups. Don’t make eye contact.

Whatever you do, stay away from the kitchen, where women’s asses are routinely grabbed by the drunken men who follow them in there.

But what about the case where you are the aggressor?

Is this your chance to offer yourself to your boss, or his boss?  Maybe you’ll be in a position to move up by going down?

If you think sex with your supervisor is a good career move, the advice is the opposite. Wear one of those sexy little elf outfits that make you look like a Playboy bunny, with a cute little hat.

Put yourself within his line of sight.  Make eye contact. Flirt. Touch his arm when you laugh at his jokes. (Has he ever laughed at yours?) If you want to be really forward you can mention a website, then suggest you show it to him.

He’ll lead you into his office and if he does not close the door, you should. Don’t sit at the computer, bend over, and let him enjoy a private viewing of your cleavage, or let him stand behind you with your ass high up in the air. Beyond this point, just let nature take her course.

If he doesn’t slam you to the desk and bang you silly then it wasn’t meant to be.

If you’re a salaried employee who is on the right career path, then you’re going to want to say thanks, no sex please. I’m wise and prudent.

However, if you’re a temp or a contractor, my advice is to go for it.

Do you really have anything to lose other than your panties since you may be next in line to lose your job with that next big layoff after the New Year? So, have a little fun before you sue the bastard.

I’m taking the rest of the week off and plan to return Monday.

While my turkey’s being cooked today, I’m going to serve up some of my sauciest posts, determined by you all.

In order of their popularity, they are

Day 216: The Skin I’m In (Ann bares almost all)
Day 26: Where Do Homeless People Have Sex (a perennial favorite!)
Day 206: Ann Revs Up for Las Vegas!
Day 200: Your Life in 3 Minutes
Day 204: Scary Jobs
Day 202: Stigmas in Labor and in Love
Day 217: The D-List for Unemployment
Day 196: Ass for Cash
Day 207: Perfecting the Email Cover Letter
Day 203: Comforting You

And, don’t forget to learn more about Ann by visiting my In the News section.

Happy Thanksgiving to all and to all a good-night.

Since I’m here, I’ve decided to go big. Big hair, big eyes and big attitude.

Although I didn’t get a chance to become a 30-second girl (a sponsor at last Saturday’s EnduroCross supplied them), I did get to hold up the 30-second sign before the wave of the green flag to start the off-road races.

A 30-second girl holds up the 30-second board to let the bikers know that the race is about to begin.

What a chill thrill!

But only for a few seconds.

It seems that life is increasingly being calculated in seconds.

When seconds count, I find that I really need to get my ass in gear in so many ways, from making split second decisions in a crucial sports play to accepting a date from someone I’ve met on the fly to applying for a job.

I’ve also learned that seconds, not minutes and certainly not days, count when deciding to respond to an online job posting.

I have a real recent example that proves my point.

Last week, I applied for a communications position. By the time the recruiters received my resume, more than 500 other job seekers had already lined up ahead of me with their online submissions.

The job had been posted about two weeks before I discovered it, and then I waited a few more days before applying.

That experience taught me a lesson that I should have learned months earlier. The reason I didn’t was recruiters who are uninterested in you almost never send you a personal email saying you didn’t make the cut, or if they do it’s an automated message that says the same thing.

They rarely disclose the actual number of resumes received but choose other words, such as “overwhelming.” Now I know what that means.

The lesson: Set up job alerts when you can, and email the recruiter if the job’s been posted for a while. If you simply ask whether the position has been filled, they’ll generally get back to you with an answer. No need going through the time and effort if a decision has already been made to fill a job.

Bottom line: Timing is everything.

Oh, the minor inconveniences of a girl on the brink.

Traveling to Vegas has inspired new marketing ideas in Ann. All the better to nab that marketing dream job that’s going to strike her like a boxer’s left punch.

You’ll love this first one. It’s so Las Vegas. Tracker trailer truck with glass walls. Inside girls in thongs (according to the cab driver who told me) and I’m guessing some sort of top were pole dancing.

Can you guess the company’s advertising message? Oh, come now. It’s selling girls 24/7. Can you imagine? Open for as long as the Internet.

The cabbie said the promotion didn’t last long. Outlawed by the police—too many rear enders.

Even though I’m heterosexual, I would have looked, too. It’s so novel. Who needs a DVD player in their SUV when you can get live entertainment?

The other marketing idea? Hmmm. I forgot, but it probably involved something that plays off the reality of the Las Vegas strip. Feather your imagination with a show girl, and you’ll get the idea.

Yes, yes. I’m sure the outer burbs cater to the working folk—the gardeners, maids, construction workers, sales clerks and the like.

I’ll be here a couple of more days to let the experience gel like Oobleck into something I can adapt to the corporate world on my next job interview, which has got to be like 2012.

In the meantime, I’ll sit back and watch the movie, 2012, maybe even breaking one of my rules and munching popcorn.

As for my luggage, it arrived the next morning. Don’t you just love it!

There are more stars in the universe than grains of sand.

There are more people who are unemployed (15.7 million) than during the Great Depression.

Startling facts. Even more startling times.

In the months before Christmas (and all the other upcoming holidays), everyone is stirring about life in 2010, and resolutions will become more about finding a job, perhaps any job, then losing the 5 to 10 pounds packed on between Thanksgiving and year-end, though that is important if you are to catch a man (or woman).

But there is something about the holidays where people seek peace, unity and stability for their children and families. The expectation of gifts wrapped with bows underneath a tree or given after the lighting of each Hanukkah candle has been dimmed by the enormous rupture in our economy.

So how do we make peace with satisfying the expectations of others as well as ourselves? Well, sometimes we don’t, but the trick is finding a way that allows us to maintain our memories of Christmas’ (or substitute your own holiday) past.

The Internet has made it possible to maintain a holiday spirit with sites that strive to bring you the best for less. To wit, I offer a few suggestions that you may not be aware of. If you are and like them, no hurt in sharing.

The most intriguing site for saving money is Groupons. This site offers deep discount coupons in more than 30 mid-market and major cities, from Miami to Memphis to Minneapolis. If enough people sign up for the daily deal in a particular city, then the deal is on.

Enter your credit card number to buy the product or service in advance, and you get an electronic coupon in your inbox to use.

Groupons calls it “collective buying power.”

I signed up but have yet to take advantage of a deal, which range from discounted maternity clothing to spa treatments to tickets for dining and entertainment events.

Other dollar-saving sites:

SeatCity.com: Online ticket aggregator. I searched for tickets to the December 3 hockey game between the Washington Capitals and Florida Panthers and found three in a good section for $89.00 each. That’s about $10 less than the prices at TicketsNow. I didn’t complete the transaction to see if there were hidden fees, but that’s something to watch out for.

PricePlease: I love the concept—find a product you want to buy from its list of participating merchants and sign up for a price-drop alert. Only problem is that I found the sign-up process cumbersome. Sure, it’s easy to enter just your email address and click on a confirmation link sent to your inbox. But then when you try to log on it asks you for a password, which you’ve never set. Don’t know if it actually works but worth a shot. I’m waiting for the price to drop on an xbox 360 Pro Console.

CouponMap: Maps coupon deals in your Zip Code. Nothing fancy here—meaning you won’t find exotic coupons for a fancy champagne. But if you like pizza, subs and discounts at cheap Chinese restaurants, you’ll find a few bargains with strings attached, such as minimum purchases to buy a gift certificate for a meal at a steep discount. The site even throws in gas stations offering low gas prices in your neighborhood.

If you’ve found other novel, non-ripoff deals, please let Ann know at ann.powers@girlonthebrink.com.