The Three R's Reading, Writing and Arithmetic.

That never made sense to me.

One of my friends got fired last week, I guess it's not a good year for second chances.  He was talking about how much he's been able to do now that he's not working and it made me so jealous because I remember how great the first few weeks of my unemployment were.

I'm not saying that we should all quit our jobs but I do think vacations should be more frequent.  My previous job never let me take PTO and I think that's why the freedom was so nice.  My current schedule is really nice, I work three days and two evenings and they don't get pissy when I ask for time off, they just accommodate my requests :)

I want to be more productive with my time so I will begin to make an effort to do so.  Perhaps I'll make some furniture so that I can have seats and solid surfaces in my future apartment.  I've been studying "Scrap wood furniture" and I think I can do it.

Mastering the Sonic Boom

I like to call my bike the Sonic Boom because it sounds intimidating and it definitely was until I was forced to learn to ride it.

I live with my mom right now, less than 2 miles from my job, so sometimes I have to ride my bike to work.  I can almost always find a ride but it's kind of nice to be able to go places according to your own schedule.  Autonomy is a luxury that I have taken for granted for a looong time.

It only takes me about 20 minutes to get to work including all of my dismounts due to busy intersections.  I love my bike though!  My goal is to lose 100lbs before 2012. Rawr.



Today I was approached by the HR guy at work.  "Why don't you want the CSM position?"  CSM is Customer Service Manager, basically a Head Cashier.  So I told him that nobody had asked me about it, and does he really think I would pass on a promotion?

Now I've been unofficially offered two promotions and I guess I'm just going to wait to see which one comes through first.  Also, I got my 90 day review and I "exceed expectations" but really, who's surprised?  Well, perhaps my former employer is...maybe I'll send it to them and they'll consider having me back ;)

I got a job but I don't want it.

That's not true.  It's a good job, they pay me fair wages and my bosses just love me.  (Typical)  I got the job at "Retail Shed" and I've been there about two months now.  They're trying to promote me to the Deli but we have to wait on the suits at Corporate to approve it.  It's nice when your boss says, "we need somebody that we can rely on over there." 

This brings me to my next point, I applied to go back to Baptist.  I spoke to the nice ladies in HR about it and they said I should apply.  Evidently everybody is leaving so maybe a combination of desperation plus me proving I'm responsible will make them decide to have me back.  I miss making a difference at work.  (Got some wine with that cheese?)  Seriously though, I love it.

By the way, I got the job the same week my Unemployment was supposed to be approved/denied.  I guess I'll have to live off the government in my Senior years.  :/

I really miss my little blog.  I'm going to start trying to write at least once a week, it would help if I had a charger for my MacBook but soon, I will.

I'm going to DC in October for Halloween, me and C are going to be Uncle Sam and Rosie the Riveter.  I can't wait.

Also, have you seen the preview for One Day?  I love Anne Hathaway but I can already tell her British accent is worse than my Redneck/French accent and she gets paid for that.  Yikes.

I wrote a movie review once.

I can’t stop thinking about the movie Into The Wild and it’s sort of driving me crazy. I tell everyone about it...look, you really need to see this movie. He had dreams and ideas that didn’t conform to those of the people around him. He wanted a life that some people live, but not usually by choice. Furthermore, most of us could never be selfless enough to live that life. I’ll be the first to admit that I’m one of those types, I can’t imagine saving, oh say, $24,500.63, just to give it all away to charity. I don’t foresee being in that situation though.

Anyways, I’m going off track. As far as I’m concerned, the movie was very well made, and, as an added bonus, features a complete soundtrack by Eddie Vedder. That’s enough in itself to qualify as a good movie. As we all know (from many long hours locked in a depressing classroom), the difference between ordinary and extraordinary is that little extra! The little extra for this movie is the lessons learned and the mystery of this man, Christopher McCandless, whose story has made so many people stop and think. I think that his fatal flaw was his drastic underestimation of nature. Maybe he was looking too much at the beauty of nature and not thinking about how violent it really is. People in Alaska think it’s ridiculous that somebody could die of starvation in the middle of summer 20 miles away from the highway. (I read that somewhere, and I’m almost certain i’ve paraphrased it all wrong, but you get the idea) Nobody really knows what happened to him or what he was thinking, but we are a society that loves to speculate.

The bottom line: he went for it. He lived his life the way that he wanted and that’s very respectable. I think it’s very important for people to live without worry of how people would judge. Dream big and go for it; even if it kills you, you will, at the very least, have died living your dream.

Bigger is Better.

So I lost my job and now I've lost my apartment.  Luckily, my sister is taking me in...again.  Thanks sis!

When I made the big switch from Elementary school to Middle school I had to make a choice between Physical Education (PE), Choir, or Band.  I pictured PE as an hour long sprint that would no doubt leave me sweaty for the rest of the day so it was quickly dismissed.  Choir seemed pointless because I had already logged hundreds of hours in front of my mirror singing with my headphones on...no teacher could teach me to be a better singer I was sure.  Band seemed like a great choice, my parents didn't force me into piano lessons as a child so this was an opportunity to be able to say, "Yeah, I play _____, no big deal."

 So before 6th grade started we had to go to the big metal building that was used as the band room and select our instrument.  I had already decided I wanted to play drums because my Dad bought me a set for Christmas one year and I had yet to teach myself how to play them.  (Even with the Metallica book I had begged him to buy me.)  Unfortunately, all the boys with brothers in band had snapped up the four spots before I got there.  Then I was ushered into the flute room.  This just pissed me off, why would they think I was ok with playing the flute instead of the drums??  No, surely there would be something that would suffice my need to play the coolest instrument in the band.  American by birth, I firmly believe BIGGER is BETTER!  So, I chose the largest instrument available...the baritone.  The baritone is the little brother of the Tuba, I was promised that I would move up to the tuba in 7th grade band.  So I was happy, I wasn't playing the drums but I had a huge horn and I was excited for the year to start so I could learn how to play it.

I got to take my baritone home that night and I was ready on the First Day to get it back into the band room so my parent's tax dollars could pay for my lessons.  The bus pulled up and I grabbed my horn, ready to board.  WHAM!  It wouldn't fit through the door so I had to turn it on it's side.  I climb up the stairs and quickly search for a seat.  I would need a completely vacant one because my horn and I wouldn't leave much room for another body.  Mine was the last stop on the route to school so there were no empty seats and the seat with the most room was located at the center of the bus.  Whack, Whack, Whack, Whack, Whack, Whack!  My horn smacked against every seat on the way.  Getting off the bus was just as bad except the person in front of me was the only one who got hit.  By the time first period was over I was sick of lugging it around.  It would be another month before we were allowed to keep one at home then use another at school.  Luckily, my sister got a car about a week into the school year so the students on the bus only had to deal with the baritone assault for a few days.

The year went by smoothly and I excelled in band.  I believe I only sat in the Second Chair once, I was the only girl in my class but I got along with the boys alright. 

Band camp was mandatory to make the move to 7th grade band and I was ready.  It would be my first time on a college campus and I couldn't wait to see where the "College Kids" lived. 

I was horrified.  The rooms were filthy...communal showers?!?  Also, the school was built with tons of different buildings to accommodate classrooms instead of one big building.  I was way out of my element.  I hadn't planned to carry that awful baritone around a college campus.  It was in the middle of the summer so it was about 100 degrees and 100% humidity.  I spent the whole week of band camp drenched in sweat and angry about carrying that instrument.  I didn't return to band in 7th grade and I learned that Bigger is certainly NOT Better.

May...be it's not so bad.

May wasn't exactly a win for me.  In fact, it rarely is.  This May qualifies as the worst of all 24 I've been a part of.  But...it's almost over.

We found a lady to take over the apartment June 1 so I don't have to worry about not being able to pay rent.  I'm not sure where I'm going, I've got a couple options but there is no obvious choice.

I think I got a job...a "real" one.  I'll be slinging cigarettes at a little "Retail Shed" in a town I loathe BUT I have it on good authority that the cigarette line cashier is at the top of the pecking order at "Retail Shed." So uh, you know, I'm kind of a big deal.  Some of my personal relationships may suffer but that's a risk I'll take for my career.

I just have to pass the background check.  As my family pointed out "It's not like you're a thief, you just can't drive," so I've got a fair chance.

"Like a snowball's chance in hell."- Better than that though, way better, I just have an appreciation for hilarious metaphors/phrases.

So things are looking up and June is swiftly approaching which means I need to pack up this apartment full of crap I don't need because I don't actually have a home.  I'm thinking I'll put the big stuff on Craigslist and pocket the cash for a couple Box Meals at Taco Bell.  Seriously, it's such a good deal.

Here's to June.

Look what I did...

Freddie Mercury said it best.

Bicycle-Queen

There's a man in Little Rock who started an organization called Recycle Bikes for Kids.  People donate their old bikes, he fixes them up and donates them to children who don't have one.  That's the main premise, however, he also has a ton of adult bikes that he will give you if you give him a few hours of work.

My sister took me to get one so I could get around town.  I was immediately drawn to an old road bike even though I've been told that they aren't practical because of the thin tires.  They just look so cool.  So mine looks kind of like this, except blue...Sonic Blue!

You get the idea.  It's so cool.  It's been about 12 years since I've used a bicycle for my primary mode of transportation.  But really, how hard could it be?  "It's like ridin' a bike."- isn't around for nothing.  

I pictured myself riding all around town with a backpack on and my (newly) toned legs, zipping through traffic flawlessly.  When people saw me they would say to themselves, "Gosh, I really should start riding a bike."  

I got on the bike at his shop and wobbled about.  Ron said I should take it home and give it a try, if I didn't like it, he would let me exchange it for a model that fit me better.  Win-Win.

We loaded up the bike in my sister's car and got it back to my apartment.  I read a few articles titled "How to Ride a Road Bike" and I was ready to practice.  

My roommate and I took it to a parking lot nearby where we took turns riding in circles around the flat lot.   I got cocky and decided I could ride it home.  It was only a block, how hard could it be?

I pulled into the street flawlessly and took the first turn like a pro.  I pulled up to the next stop and waited until it was my turn to go.  The Capital Hotel has a valet lane, a Four Runner opened it's door moments before I was supposed to pass by but I dodged it.  I've heard the trolley tracks were a road bikes worst nightmare but I cross the first time without incident.  What was all the fuss about?  I had to cross them again before taking a right and arriving at my front door.  My bike was positioned properly to get across but something happened.  I looked down and my front tire was stuck in the trolley tracks.  WHAM!  I went down like a pile of bricks.  

I got my bike off the road and surveyed the damage: right elbow scrape, right knee scrape, left hand injury, crushed pride.  

Lessons learned:  1) Always wear a helmet  2) Never try to cross the trolley tracks

In hindsight, I probably could have avoided injury if I had just put my foot down to catch myself.  

I'm getting back on it...as soon as the weather clears up.  Also, I'm definitely riding it to UFD on Monday.   

If you have an old bike or some time to donate, you should get in touch with Ron at Recycle Bikes for Kids, he's doing great things.

Arts Center

Ok so I wanted to go to Med School.  In order to get into Med School, you need to be a "well-rounded" person.  So, I chose to volunteer for the Arts Center (it's one of my favorite places in Little Rock).  I filled out my application and waited for a response.  Carol called me about a week later and asked if I would come in for an interview.  Umm of course I will.  I had to go to the driving range after though so I showed up in my best golfing gear.  (green Polo shorts with the precious horses embroidered on them and a white button-up shirt)

Carol told me I had to fill out an application and my eyes immediately found the "bartender" section of interest.  I signed up for everything that pertained to the bar.

When I left, I called my friend Chris to tell him about my badass volunteer gig I got bartending and  he immediately applied.

We showed up for our first event dressed in black pants and white shirts as Carol had requested.  Then we went to find her to see what our bartending jobs would require.

She put Chris at the bar, serving drinks and laughing with the members all night.  Then she decided she wouldn't need anymore bartenders so...I had to be security.

By security I mean, not letting people into the galleries with food or drinks.  I hated it.

I watched Chris all night having a grand time laughing and mingling with Little Rock's finest.  I stood watch over the gallery, getting angrier by the minute.

Chris came over to bring me a gin and tonic (just a splash of tonic), that made my security job better.  Then he brought me another.  Before I knew it, I was in love with my new job.

Now I beg to be security.  I choose this job because I get to drink and I don't have to actually do anything.

Usually people notice the signs that say "NO FOOD OR DRINKS IN THE GALLERY," so my job is especially pointless.  I've only had two incidents of people not minding the sign, so I have to step in and take care of business.  Mind you, I go to these events at least twice a month and I've been doing it for a while.

The first time was at the Delta Exhibition, a huge show with about 200 artist selected from the Southern Delta to display their work.

A man tried to walk in with his cup of white wine and I immediately stopped him.  Turns out, he was one of the major artists invited.  Then I had to have a conversation with him about how I don't really have the authority to stop him from going to see his own work.  He was very gracious, he even said that he was glad I wasn't letting people in with drinks and we had a conversation about what it takes to be invited into this group of really talented artists.

Actually, the second time was also at the Delta Exhibition.  (I guess we could call them an "unruly bunch")  People were dressed up for this...like may-jah dressed up.  One woman had a ceramic necklace on that represents a sunburst.  It reminded me of the sun we all draw as children except it was around her neck, the rays radiating from her neck instead of an orange circle.  I just know she paid wayyy to much for it.  Actually, that's what I thought about everybody's clothes night.

Alright, there were a couple exceptions.  One lady that looked like a 50 something hooker that shops at the Rave.  The other was wearing a Hanes maroon sweatsuit, I feel like her name would be Maureen.  (No offense if any of you have that name.)

She started towards the gallery door dragging her shopping bag on wheels, it looked something like this:

Her bag didn't distract my keen eye from seeing the bottle of water tucked under her arms.  

Note:  Drinks are free and unlimited

I said "Oh, ma'am, you aren't allowed to take that into the gallery."

She immediately stops and says, "I"M A DIABETIC!!!  What if I go into diabetic shock while I'm in the gallery, how are you going to feel about that?!?"

I felt everybody turn and stare.  My face got hot and I panicked. I didn't want to disappoint Carol but I really wasn't there to get yelled at so I compromised.  "All right ma'am, you just make sure you leave that cap on," I said as sternly as I could.

Then she huffed and turned away.  I could have pointed out that there is no way water would help her if she went into diabetic shock but Maureen was like a wild animal, I had no way to predict her reaction.  I suspect that if we had checked her bag, she had squirreled away as many water bottles she could get her hands on.  

Tuesday...or is it Wednesday?

Thing about being unemployed is that, after about a week, you start to lose track of time.  This phenomenon is both terrifying and deeply liberating.  I don't have to dread Mondays, the weekend is just a set of days that put the job hunt temporarily on hold.  Calling Wednesday's "Hump Day" just confuses me and makes me uncomfortable...as it always has.  Days should be celebrated, not dreaded or given awkward euphemisms.

I've got over 200 views and I'm just dying to know who's looking. I

http://youtu.be/v6Vmo-YMydg

Go to 2:15...it's my favorite part.  You're WILD!!!

I put in 14 applications at a local hospital, and one at Walmart.  I expect zero call backs...I'm shooting low so even 1 call would be 100% better than I expected.

There's something else...I found a job for a deck hand in the paper.  No experience necessary, will train on the boat, 34k-38k salary.  I'm calling them first thing in the morning.  I love boats!  I can totally do that.  I don't expect my uniform to be precious linen pants, white slip on sneakers and a striped shirt.  Doesn't matter, I look good in Carhartt.  I bet I would even get muscles out of the deal.

I've also been looking at au pair jobs.  I guess I'm getting to the point where absolutely anything will be considered.  I don't particularly like children but I love the idea of living in another country. 

Also, I've made $10 from the ad clicks, I just need you guys to click 437 more times.  Thanks for reading.  Comments, questions or concerns would be fun but I don't want to push my luck..

Things That Keep Me Awake

1.  My living situation

     I don't have a job.  People are coming to look at the apartment so there's a chance somebody will take over the lease.  I have a roommate that doesn't have family close that she can move in with.  We could get a cheaper apartment but again...I don't have a job.  Cheap apartments aren't really close to all of the places I've put applications in.  Too many variables, I just don't know which path to take.

2. I DON'T HAVE A JOB!!!!!

    I need some MONEYYY.  I guess I'm lucky I don't have my car right now so I don't have to worry about the parking tickets piling up.

3. School

    Why didn't I just stay in school?  How can I get back in school?  Wait, what would I go to school for?

4. Future

    Am I ever going to be able to apply for a job that requires more than an IQ of 80?  What do I really want to do?

This is where I start entertaining things I dream about.

I want to make things.  I'm currently obsessed with furniture.  This came about after refinishing a porch swing at my dad's house.  I've secretly looked at the furniture design programs at UALR and SCAD but here's where I snap back to question #3 so let's get back to brighter things.

I have this idea to make a really big mixed media piece but I don't know how to get my hands on the materials needed.  Also, I want to make chairs, tables out of unorthodox materials and quilts that would make your grandmother gasp.  I need to learn how to reupholster because it costs a lot of money, requires advanced skill and, most importantly, I think I would enjoy it.

More than anything, I want to enjoy my life.  I want to be challenged.  I want to make enough money to live comfortably.  I know that stress will always be a factor but I would like to think that I will be able to go to sleep knowing that I surpassed my potential (or at least met it).  

I have a few friends that are older than me and they all agree that you never quite figure everything out.  Maybe it's true.  However, I'd like to start moving forward in life so that I can see for myself.

I'm whining.  I have all of my limbs, no diseases, my family and friends are incredible, I'm not in jail (ahem), I live in a really great apartment with electricity and running water and tomorrow is a brand new day that is full of potential.

In the meantime, please check out the advertisements on this page so that I might make rent next month.  Thank you!

Vector 6 Part II

I'm walking from house to house leaving a hint of cat pee everywhere I go but I'm still smiling because I'm making money walking around on a really nice day.  300 flyers?  This is cake.

After about 10 houses I start making my way downhill.  Oh sheesh, put a roller-coaster track on here and we've got a hill steep enough to propel the car around loops and dips, fast enough to cause G forces that rival a shuttle launch.  The ad didn't say to bring a diaper.

Then I start playing this little game with myself: point out everything I would change about the house I'm at.  I entertain the idea of starting a business repainting front doors then I start making my way back up the hill. I'm thinking the whole time that the whole route can't be this steep.  It took me almost two hours two do a small section on the map and Boss said it was going to take three hours to finish the whole thing.

My friend Chris calls and starts telling me about the trouble he had getting from DC to Little Rock on standby.  Small my potatoes, my friend.  Then he's asking me when I'm coming over which makes me want to quit immediately but I put my head down and keep moving.

I'm walking down a huge hill with no houses when the Lady in Charge calls to check on me.
LiC:  What's up girl?  How's it going?
Me:   Walking down this hill, I'm not sure if I'm following the map correctly.
LiC:  Where you at?
Me:   Uhh
LiC:  Alright I'm coming to check on you.

She shows up smoking a Newport in the Crown Vic and checks out my map, the ink has started to bleed because I'm sweating.
LiC:  Girl I don't know why he has you coming down this big hill, get in.

So I get in, she's nice enough.  We drive down the mountain just to turn around and take a right so I'm back on track.  I get dropped off and quickly realize that this part of Vector 6 isn't going to be any easier.  It would have taken less time if I didn't feel so bad about cutting through the carefully manicured yards.  Maybe I should go into landscaping, these people are spending a ton of money on their yards.

My outfit was completely inappropriate for the weather even with my sleeves and pants rolled up.  The backpack had already stained my white shirt brown when I got a call from LiC.

LiC:  What up girl, you almost done?

I had just finished handing out 100/300 and I feel safe to admit that I was already doubling up at some houses.

Me:  Ummm, nope, are people done already?
LiC:  Well the Cowboy done quit on me, Josh has been done, I can't get in touch with the Diva, and I don't know what's going on with those other folks.
Me:  I've thought about quitting but I don't want to leave you guys hanging.  How is he already done?!?
LiC:  Man they got my homegirl Megan out here climbing mountains, all of their houses were right next to each other.
Me:  haha Of course, well I'm going to keep going.

I work a little longer and call the roommate...this just makes me want to go home.  Whomp, whomp.  I hang up and go back to it.

My sister calls to check on me; I'm glad that somebody knew where I was because I was certainly the closest I've ever been to passing out from heat exhaustion.  She met me with a huge cup of ice water and took me to the store to get a couple of drinks I can keep in my pee pee bag.  She helped me with a bunch of houses and completely boosted my morale.  She went on her way, promising not to leave me in the "bowels of West Little Rock" forever.

I'm soon confronted with the biggest hill yet.  Awesome.  The mailman has already passed me a few times on my route but our paths cross when I'm moving at a pace that could maybe rival a sloth.

Mailman:  Need a push?

This just sends me into a fit of giggles, yes I needed a push...it would have been awesome if he had offered me a ride.  Whatever.  We start to discuss how hard that route is and I find out that USPS would never make their postmen walk such a route and he told me to start cutting through the beautiful lawns.  

I took his advice but I was already so beat that I was relieved when the Lady in Charge called to tell me it was time to quit.  I handed out 264 flyers.  I didn't go to 264 houses but I walked past at least that many.

My sister came to get me and took me back to the Best Buy parking lot to collect my day's wages.  He felt so bad for me that he gave me $40 instead of $26.  I've never worked so hard for money but as my sister said, "You got paid and now you know that this is something you don't want to do for the rest of your life."

Boss offered me an interview for Full-time ad sales with his company...I'm meeting with him on Tuesday.  Also, my face got sunburned so I don't have to worry about make-up for at least a week.  (RAWR)  My chest sunburn kills but it gives me something to complain about.

Vector 6

I got a job.  Sort of.  I search Craigslist every single day for a new job and I clicked on "gigs" yesterday morning.  There it was:

       Flyer Delivery-This Week
We need 12 Delivery Persons for This week.
Delivering advertising information door to door in Little Rock. No selling. Just put the information on                                  the door and go to the next house. Wear your Ipod, enjoy the weather, and get paid ! You must be physically able to walk 3+ miles per shift.

Choose your Day(s) and Shift(s)"

Well I can do that.

I woke up at 0730 (we had to meet at 0800) and check the weather, supposed to be cool today so I put on my only pair of jeans, a white long sleeve t-shirt and a pair of sneakers.  My sister drove me to meet the group at the back of the Best Buy parking lot over in West Little Rock.  We're running a little bit late but I was thinking about backing out since we left my apartment so I wasn't terribly concerned.  Five minutes late, we spot the group in the parking lot...ohhh great.

My sister pulls up to the group and we watch them for a few minutes before she talks me into walking over to them.  We're all gathered around the boss' Volvo...me, three people with Eastern European accents (rare in the South), a huge redneck who brought his African American friend in his enormous truck, one of my sister's friends from church (nice guy), the diva, and a legit cowboy in his 50s who has seen his fair share of Marlboros.

The big redneck takes his place as "leader" of the group and starts asking questions about the map taped to the Volvo with different sections labeled V1-V7.  "So uh, how do you decide who gets which vector?"

My brain skips back to Conceptual Physics ("Physics without so much math so it's easier for people with your abilities to understand."-Sister Joan) in 10th grade.  Pretty sure vector is a measurement of quantity. I looked it up, it is "a quantity possessing both magnitude and direction." (Thanks, Dictionary.com)  I love being right.  Back to the story.


"Well I just hand them out to whoever."-Boss
So the job is to hang these little booklets on front doors in a good neighborhood.  The book is just advertisements and a few coupons...all local businesses.  I can deal with that.  We get paid 10 cents for each booklet we hand out.  Cool, 10 houses,  one dollar.  Got it.


The map is labeled with arrows in red or blue so as to distinguish different routes.  Each route has an estimate of how many houses written under the arrows.  300, 330, 220, 450...I was disappointed when I got Vector 6..."Only 300?  Crap, I would rather do 450 so I can make a little bit more money today," I thought.  Eh something is better than nothing so I kept my mouth shut.  The Eastern Europeans are going to a separate neighborhood but we all have to wait for the shift supervisors to get there with the bags.  Soo..we wait.  A few people leave to get breakfast, I return to my sister's car to discuss what I've gotten myself into. 


Three white 90s model Crown Victorias roll up and the passengers get out with black duffel bags that they carry over to the Volvo.  I walk over to collect my bags, we have to get our shift supervisor's number before we leave so we can call her if we need more bags or if we get in some sort of trouble.  She has to ask one of the guys what her number is..her phone has recently been stolen.  Whatever, I'm ready to make some moneyyy.  Finally.


Heather takes me to my starting point, it's a really nice neighborhood so I'm ready to go.  My booklets are loaded into a backpack that our cat peed on a few years ago but it's all I had and surely the smell would be gone by now..right?  Wrong.  As soon as I put it on, the weight of 300 booklets brings it closer to me...closer to my face...I smell it.  It's fine...I'll walk fast and the smell will just trail behind me. 


To be continued... 

Birfday Smurfday

I turned 24 today...whomp whomp.  I don't know what it is about birthdays, but I just can't get into them like everybody else.  My birthday is not a National Holiday, it is just another day that I get shmammered and wake up feeling awful the next day and resolving the issue by doing it again that night.  Soo this year was a little bit different because I recently purchased a ticket on the Sober Train.

It's a lot smoother ride than I'm used to and I'm starting to feel very comfortable.  My former Train, named "Live Fast, Die Young," which screamed down the tracks, threatening to derail at any moment finally pulled into the station.  It took a long time, two dwi's (ok one is pending trial), crashing my car into a tree in the middle of nowhere (which very well could have killed me), disappointing everyone that I love so very much (yet again), and a trip to the worst hospital in America (in my opinion), to finally open my eyes. I've been sober for a week and a half, it feels pretty good, weird...but good.

I go to bed early and wake up feeling fine.  It has probably been three years since I've actually had a good night's sleep.  I'm scared about the trouble I'm in and I still haven't found a job.  But, I'm working on it, and now my head is clear enough to take confident steps in the right direction.  I don't know what the future holds but I know that I will now be able to see the path I'm on and make things happen.  #Winning.

Get a Damn Job

The job search continues...

At my old job I grew very tired of seeing people who were taking advantage of "The System." 
Me: Do you work?
PT: Nope
Me: Are you in school?
PT:  Nope
Me:  How many kids do you have?
PT: 3
Me: *Sigh*
I don't like it.  The more children they have, the more money they get from the government.  Thus, the cycle continues through their children.  Nobody actually tries to get ahead, nobody wants their lives to be better.

There are some people who break the cycle and that's great, but I'm not talking about them.

Everybody says that it's tough to get a job in this economy, maybe so.  I think it all depends on how picky you are.  So back to the paper...

Jobs listed include mowing grass at the Country Club (I'm applying), Proof Reading/Run Engraving machine (You know I'm applying), Tool Room Attendant (Yup), Kennel worker(Sure), Bank Clerk (Yesss), and a slew of other jobs...all on the first page.  Five solid job leads plus I've already had two interviews.  All of these jobs sound interesting to me, they don't pay crazy good but it's a job.  Steady income so I can pay my bills.  Earning your own money instantly qualifies you as a productive member of society.  I'm ok with that.

Time to Muster.

So I got fired from my 9-5, err 0730-1600, job Monday (04/11/2011).  I worked at that hospital for about 3.5 years, in three different positions before they got rid of me.  Other than that, my work history has been peppered with a long list of jobs that lasted a maximum of six months.

Back to the point...After spending so much time at one place, I grew very comfortable and unwilling to take a risk.  I've been thinking about quitting for a while, walking in one day and handing in my two weeks notice without a plan.  They beat me to it I guess.

Two hours before I got fired, I landed an interview for the next day (Tuesday) at one of the best hospitals in my area, I've been putting applications in for the last six months so the timing couldn't have been more perfect.  Actually, it would have been better if they had called when I put my first application in but who am I to be picky?

Monday is a particularly good day in my circle of friends because we all join together for food and libations at somebody's house for an event that we call "Urban Family Dinner."  When I announced my new employment status, my friends greeted me with condolences and calls to action.  "Who do we start calling?"  "A new position opened up at the TV station, I'll talk to the lady tomorrow."  Seriously, you have no idea what it is to have good friends until you've become a member of this circle.

Wednesday I had a lunch date with a friend at the Clinton School and I realized that things were actually going to work out really well.  My roommate and I took a long walk by the river and a sense of calm just washed over me.  I don't have to dread working tomorrow and I'm not completely broke...I can literally do whatever I want, not just for Thursday, but Friday, Saturday and every day after that.  This feeling of freedom has led me to say I'm "at Liberty" instead of "unemployed" when asked the inevitable "What do you do?" question.

Thursday was my interview at the TV station which went better than any interview I've had before.  Lunch at Hanaroo for some nom nom time with tuna.  Yummm.  Friday I made the trip up to my dad's house and I've been refinishing an old porch swing.  We don't have a power sander, so I've been using my biceps for power.  I really enjoy it and the chair looks great...perhaps I'll open a wood shop...

Dinosaur Vomit.

So I used to work as a "Patient Representative" in an ER.  Basically, I admitted patients into the ER.  You'll notice I'm using past tense...more on that later.

Anyways, I was working in the ER on a particularly busy day when a man and his son stepped up to my cubby. 

Me: Name?
PT Father:  _______
Me: Great, what's your address?
PT Father: ____________

Everything is going along swimingly until a patient is rolled into the front door... 
Then it turns into this...

Me: Are you employed full time?
Pt Father:  ((RAAAAAWWWWRRRR-patient in the waiting room vomits into sick bag))
Me:  I'm sorry, could you repeat that?
PT Father:  ((RAAAAWWWWRRRR-patient in the waiting room vomits into sick bag))  blah blah blah
Me:  Great, What's your cell phone number?
Pt Father: _____________
Me:  Ok, does your wife work?
PT Father:  ((RAAAAWWWWRRRR-patient in the waiting (PIW) room vomits, yet again) 
Me:  I'm sorrry, could you repeat that?
PT Father:  Yeah __
Me:  Ohh, OK, what's her number?
PT Father:  ((RAAAWWWWRRRRR-PIW vomits....again))
Me:  BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA 
[10 minutes later]
PT Father:  Umm, are you ok?
Me:  Yes.  (still laughing) 

One of my supervisors happened to be in the ER and watched the whole thing unfold.  This patient managed to throw up every single time I asked this guy a question, what was I supposed to do??

She threw up like I imagine a dinosaur would.  RAAAAAWWWWWRRRRR!!!!!

Ironically, this is how I throw up when I get any type of alcohol in my system besides beer.  RAWR.