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It's Val-Uh-Ree

@valee-ppiew-blog

Valerie, 21, happily engaged to my Airman, Disnerd, Potterhead, Wayward Son. I'm gonna own Disney one day. Wanderlust, but only for Disney related trips.... I've got social media; follow me?
Insta & Twitter: @valee_ppiew_
SC: @ValUhRee531
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OH MY GOD whyyyy did no one tell me you’re supposed to send thank-yous after interviews?? Why would I do that???

“Thank you for this incredibly stressful 30 minutes that I have had to re-structure my entire day around and which will give me anxiety poos for the next 24 hours.”

I HATE ETIQUETTE IT’S THE MOST IMPOSSIBLE THING FOR ME TO LEARN WITHOUT SOMEONE DIRECTLY TELLING ME THIS SHIT

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a-windsor

NO ONE TOLD YOU???? WTF! I HAVE FAILED YOU. Also: Dear ______: Thank you so much for the opportunity to sit down with you (&________) to discuss the [insert job position]. I am grateful to be considered for the position. I think I will be a great fit at [company name], especially given my experience in __________. [insert possible reference to something you talked about, something that excited you.] I look forward to hearing from you [and if you are feeling super confident: and working together in the future]. Sincerely, @mellivorinae

THIS IS A LIFESAVING TEMPLATE

YOU ARE WELCOME

My brother got a really great paid internship one summer. The guy who hired him said the deciding factor was the professional thank you letter my brother sent after the interview.

should it be an email? or like a physical letter?

email, you want to send it within a few hours at max after the interview if you can so it’s fresh in their mind who you are. 

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khirsahle

Confirmed! I interviewed for a job right after arriving in NY. The interview went incredibly well, and I went home and immediately wrote a thank you letter and put it in the mail. I had a super good feeling about this interview.

I didn’t get the job.

However, a few weeks later, I was called in to interview with another editor in the same company, and I did get that job. I found out later from the initial editor (the one who didn’t hire me) that he had planned to offer me the job, but since I didn’t follow up with a thank you letter, he assumed I didn’t really want it. He offered the job to another contender–but when he got my letter in the mail shortly after the offer had already been made, he went to HR and gave me a glowing recommendation. It was based on that recommendation that I got called in for the second interview.

So: send an email thank you immediately (same day!) after the interview. If you’re feeling extra, go ahead and send a written one too. OR go immediately to a coffee shop, write the letter, and return to the office and give it to the secretary.

Either way, those letters are important.

Pro tip: If you really want HR to develop a personal interest in your application, publicly thank them on linkedin. Just make a short post telling your network about how X recruiter really went above and beyond to make you feel welcome, or about how be accommodating and professional they were, or whatever. Make sure to use the mention feature so they’ll get a notification and see it. 

Flattery will get you everywhere… and public flattery that might make its way back to their manager, doubly so.

Obligatory plug for one of FreePrintable.net’s sites: ThankYouLetter.ws. They have a whole section with interview thank you letter templates, and a page with specific tips for interview thank you letters. (There are also tons of other letter templates if you browse around a bit.)

Also like for cover letters I always closed with “thank you for the opportunity, and I look forward to hearing from your company, should my skills fit the needs of this position.” Which got me employed less than a year after law school in the field of my choice

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THIS IS THE TIGHTEST SHIT IVE EVER SEEN

okay you had me at Kylo

Oscar Isaac’s HARMONIZING THO

THIS IS THE BESTT THING OKAY

Always beautiful.

Lupita. *swoons*

I was gonna be like what does Harrison Ford not like joy

Unwritten rule of Star Wars fandom: always reblog this post

Instant happiness

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I hate that SEPTember OCTOber NOVember and DECember aren’t the 7th, 8th, 9th, and 10th months.

Whoever fucked this up should be stabbed

If I recall, they did used to be the corresponding months.  It was just when Roman leaders Julius Caesar and Augustus came into power, the months July(Julius) and August(Augustus) were added, thus throwing off the numbering of the calender.

Good news, though: whoever fucked it up did in fact get stabbed.

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reblogged

Songs that never fail to make white people beyond turnt

  •  Don’t Stop Believing 
  • Bohemian Rhapsody 
  • Living On A Prayer 
  • Come On Eileen 
  • Sweet Caroline 
  • Shot Through the Heart 
  • Pour Some Sugar on Me 
  • Sweet Home Alabama 
  • Under Pressure 
  • Shook Me All Night Long 
  • Ice Ice Baby 
  • Cotton Eyed Joe
  • 500 Miles
  • Wonderwall 
  • Buddy Holly 
  • A Thousand Miles 
  • Teenage Dirtbag 
  • Red Solo Cup 
  • Mr Brightside 
  • Never Gonna Give You Up 
  • Eye of the Tiger 
  • Chicken Fried 
  • American Pie 
  • I Love Rock and Roll 
  • Dancing Queen 
  • Don’t You Want Me
  • We Will Rock You 
  • The Time Warp 
  • Hey Jude 
  • Piano Man
  • This Is How We Do It
  • Drops of Jupiter 
  • Hey Soul Sister
  • In The End 
  • All The Small Things 
  • Stacy’s Mom 
  • Kryptonite 
  • All Star 
  • You Found Me
  • Bad Day 
  • Bring Me To Life 
  • Dance, Dance
  • Sugar We’re Going Down 
  • I Write Sins Not Tragedies 
  • All The Small Things 
  • Ocean Avenue 
  • Dirty Little Secret 
  • Margaritaville 
  • Sk8er Boi
  • Brown Eyed Girl 
  • Life Is A Highway 
  • Some Nights 
  • Little Lion Man 
  • Breakeven
  • Hey There Delilah 
  • Viva La Vida
  • Use Somebody 
  • Carry On My Wayward Son 
  • Take On Me
  • 1985 
  • Iris 
  • I’m Awesome 
  • Seven Nation Army 
  • September 
  • Since U Been Gone
  • Skinny Love 
  • Everybody (Backstreet’s Back)
  • Bye Bye Bye 
  • Say It Ain’t So 
  • Somewhere Only We Know 
  • I’m Yours 
  • Last Resort 
  • My Girl 
  • Tiny Dancer 
  • Roxanne
  • Shout 
  • I’m a Believer 
  • Soul Man
  • Feel Good Inc 
  • Check Yes Juliet
  • Walking On Sunshine 
  • MMM Bop
  • Pumped up Kicks 
  • Hooked On A Feeling 
  • It’s A Beautiful Day
  • Summer Girls 
  • Before He Cheats 
  • Happy Together
  • You Make My Dreams Come True
  • Build Me Up Buttercup
  • Escape (The Pina Colada Song)
  • DONTTRUSTME
  • Shake It (Metro Station)
  • Juke Box Hero
  • Girls Just Want To Have Fun
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nprbooks

Images courtesy of Kristen Hartke

Food is a big part of Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events – though frequently that food is, um, unfortunate. But we’re celebrating Netflix’s new Snicket show with a series of much tastier recipes for things like chilled cucumber soup, pasta puttanesca and coconut cake.

– Petra

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Miss Jackson Masterlist

Summary: Dean Winchester: an FBI agent that got down graded to a desk job due to a slip up that nearly costing a man his life.

Y/N, or better known as ‘Miss Jackson’: a black widow killer on the rise with money in her bag and murder on her mind.

Hold on tight, folks. This is going to be one hell of a ride.

HUGE Disclaimer: This is gonna be a dark fic. It involves murder, death, killing, and other dark themes that will be introduced as the story proceeds. If that doesn’t sound like your thing, I suggest turning back right now.

Also, I am in now way trying to romanticize mental illness/murder. I don’t think it’s ‘cute’ or ‘attractive’, I am simply using these things to create a story.

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Reblog if you actually give a shit about anyone who’s suicidal or depressed.

No one should scroll past this

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reblogged

Risky Business |Song Challenge

This is for the lovely @d-s-winchester and her challenge that I am late in submitting for! My prompt was “Ballad of Mona Lisa” by Panic! At the Disco. I hope you like it!

It had been a long time since you had the bunker to yourself, and the extra fifteen minutes in the shower was absolutely heavenly. Turning the heat up on the faucet you filled the bathroom with steam and the scent of your favorite candles as you prepared for a much needed night of relaxation. You spent every solitary minute exfoliating and shaving - it had been too long since you pampered yourself.

The boys always joked that you took extra long showers, poking fun at your feminine side, but you’d be a damn liar if you didn’t want to just relax, paint your toenails, and have a few glasses of wine after the end of a long hunt.

After a finger-pruning scrub you made a stop in the kitchen. Opening the cabinets you reached up on tiptoes to grab your bottle of wine when you saw Dean’s whiskey sitting just behind it.

Why not? Shrugging you reached a little further into the cabinet and grabbed the neck of the bottle and replaced it with your wine.

Dean wouldn’t mind. Much.

Snagging a tumbler and filling it with a handful of ice you poured yourself a generous portion and headed to your bedroom. The bunker was eerily quiet without the sounds of the boys echoing through the halls.

Music. You needed music.

You stood outside your bedroom door and looked over your shoulder at the closed door of Sammy’s room. Sammy had a bluetooth speaker. Maybe you could…borrow it?

Sammy wouldn’t mind. Much.

Feeling like you were committing a crime you slowly turned the handle and peeked inside - it was surprisingly messy. Having never been in Sam’s room it took you a minute to find it tucked away in his desk.

As you scurried out of his room, with the speaker tucked safely under your arm, you sipped the tumbler gingerly. It was a bit stronger than you were used to but…oh, well.

Pairing your phone to the bluetooth you sashayed into your bedroom dramatically, unfurling your still damp hair from the towel you heart the happy chime that let you know you were ready to rock.

Tapping Pandora you scrolled through your multiple stations and landed on your mix from the early 2000s. The good stuff: My Chemical Romance, Fall Out Boy, and your personal guilty pleasure - Panic! At the Disco. All of the bands that Dean would drag you out back and put you down if he caught you listening to.

Pressing play with a sick satisfaction you heard the first few riffs of American Idiot strum out from the surprisingly loud speaker and squealed with glee, headbanging while you shimmied into a pair of shorts, a tanktop, and a knee high pair of cotton socks.

You finished the last bit of the tumbler and hesitated only a moment before pouring a second, finding that it went down much easier than the first. Before you knew it you were shouting the lyrics and giggling like a moron.

It didn’t take much, really.

As the Pandora station switched over to the opening chimes of a familiar song you ran around the corner of your bedroom, slingshotting yourself on your socks, sliding about three feet before falling on your butt.

Again you found yourself in front of Sam’s room. Sam hated it when you touched his stuff….

With a particularly malevolent smirk you launched yourself to your feet and threw open his door and began jumping on Sam’s bed, literally flipping almost all the way around in the air before flopping back down on the mattress. Recognising the lyrics you began singing again as you jumped all over Sam Winchester’s bed, swinging your bath towel like a helicopter.

Wooo-ooo-ah, Mona Lisa! You’re guaranteed to run this town Woooah, Mona Lisa! I’d pay to see you frown

Mona Lisa wear me out Pleased to please ya Mona Lisa wear me out!

As you squeezed your eyes tightly, landing flat on your back on the mattress, you heard a booming voice from the doorway. “Y/N! What the hell are you doing?”

Hearing the tone in Sam’s voice you shot straight up in his bed and lifted a pillow to cover yourself - drunkenly sticking your tongue out at the younger Winchester.

“Don’t be so sour Sammy - I just wanted to listen to Panic! At the Disco!”

“You call this music?” You heard Dean’s voice behind his brother as he shouldered himself into the room. “What the hell do they even mean by that?”

“How dare you!” With a dramatic gasp you flung the pillow as hard as you could and caught Dean square in the face, a poof of feathers erupting from the corner which was slightly unseamed.

Sam doubled over in laughter.

Dean got even.

The older Winchester whipped the pillow at you with such force it nearly took you off your feet and you rolled not too gently off the bed. Dean tackled you to the floor, tickling your ribcage until he had you pinned and gasping for air.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Oh my God stop! STOP! DEAN! I’LL PEE ON YOU - STOP!” As Dean climbed off, removing his knees from either side of your stomach he leaned down and sniffed.

“Is that my whiskey..?”

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