I would like you all to know that your patience with my sporadic blogging will be amply rewarded. I don’t know how, or by who but I am sure that you are racking up the good karma by indulging me in thinking I am important. May you all find good parking, lose your love-handles, and drink expensive wine on someone else’s tab. You deserve it.
This month has seemed to go by so fast! I know it is a short month but I swear there have been less than 28 days in February this year. You know what else is fast? My new skis. Yes, those of you who have been reading since the beginning of the season will recall my less than graceful first attempts on the slopes. I have gone from screeching at helpful strangers and throwing myself at the snow in despair to racing down smooth black runs and fearlessly attacking moguls. Skiing is my savior. Not just because it is THE MOST FUN EVER but also because it has kept me from my seasonal depression. Like a good bouncer at seedy yet popular underground hot spot, skiing threw SAD into the scum lined alley and kicked once in the back for good measure. I have not had any problems at all. Maybe it is having something to look forward to every weekend. Maybe it is all the outdoor exercise, I’m really not sure. All I know is that I will be very very sad when the season is over. I may become the first person in history to get my seasonal depression in the middle of spring.
Speaking of spring, I fucking hate it. I have never liked spring. Spring is a slutty little tease with nothing to offer. It looks nice out but it is still cold, and it might rain at any moment. All the new fashions are out but you will catch hypothermia if you wear them. There are no good holidays (where “good holiday” is defined as “holiday where I get attention/presents). Sure there is Mothers Day and Fathers Day and about ½ of the known world is born in May but where does that put me? Broke, that’s where. Not that parents don’t deserve lauding, they do (Hi Mama! Hi Papa!) its just why must we do it in the most horrible of all seasons? There are no paid holidays until the END of May and everyone knows that Memorial Day is the kick off for summer. Spring is an endless string of inconsistent weather. It is haunted my memories of the slopes and dreams of long summer days. It is a limbo we must endure year after year. Sure, OK, the birds come back and the flowers begin to bloom and the trees grow their leaves back. But isn’t that just like saying the birds all be back until summer and the flowers wont all bloom until then either and the trees wont have their leaves fully grown. Isn’t spring really just the anticipation of summer? Fucking spring.
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Job Hopper
God only knows why I do this. Lately I have been desperate for something to change. I have been scanning the paper at Starbucks for “too good to pass up” apartments. I have been eyeing other people’s new cars and researching different models. The truth is that I hate moving and I love my car (especially it’s “lack of payments” attribute) and I have no intention of changing either until I get a better paying job. So, all of this anxious energy is getting pumped into . . . job applications.
I must change jobs about 100 times more often than the average person. The other day I asked Boyfriend “Do you have to fill out a new W2 thing every year?” and as he gave me that exasperated look I realized I HAVE NEVER HELD A JOB FOR OVER A YEAR! I know you all want a list of every job I have ever had and I am only too happy to oblige. So here goes. . .
When I was 16 I worked at Jack-In-The-Box for a few months. My mom made me quit because the thriving social scene that is 12-teenagers-in-a-box was taking over my mind and running my life, not to mention my grades.
After the school year was over I started at IHOP. A definite step up. But I worked Wednesday nights, also known as “senior by one get one free” night. When an 80 year old woman explained to me why her digestive problems prohibited her form eating the nights side vegetable, I decided it was time for a change.
On to Cucina! Cucina! I was a hostess with 5 other pre-college girls and one primadona gay man. He was a royal pain in the ass. Anyone who can single handedly out shine 5 teenage girls in the drama department needs help. Technically I quit to “focus on college applications” but really I just couldn’t take it anymore.
My next job was at the first university I attended. I was a lab tech studying the DNA of peas. I doubt I really need to explain why this only lasted one semester.
I tried to work at Denny’s but they wouldn’t give me spring break off.
After that I came home and took some time off to explore the wonderful world of banking. I quit Washington Mutual when I broke up with my boyfriend on Christmas-Eve and moved from our Seattle apartment back in with my parents.
Next I worked at a “Steakhouse” which was actually more of a cover for a call girl ring. The owner was fat a creepy. There were never any customers. The cook was crazy. It was, however, a very easy job. I was the DJ in the lounge and I worked 3 nights a week plus events. When I found out why there were never any customers for dinner, I called and quit.
We are now at a point in the story where I work for the same company for over a year but hold three separate positions. I began as one of three file clerks in the billing office of Digestive Health Specialists. After much reorganization and a whole office building move, I became one of only two billing office assistants. When I graduated from Community College and could work full time hours, I took a job as Transcription Coordinator; a position which involved almost no typing.
After that, I moved to the second university I would attend. Here I got a job as a pizza delivery driver. I loved that job. I was good at it. I was fast and organized and a girl so I got great tips. People would call to order a pizza and ask them to send “that chick.” It was great. Sadly I had to quit because I was not comfortable driving in the snow.
My next job was at a pool hall. I was a cocktail waitress and apparently not a “friendly” enough one. They fired me right after the New Year.
Then I worked at Rite Aid. I loved that job too. I would come in early in the morning and stock things for a few hours. Just hours and hours of organizing things and no one there to bother you. Then I would spend a few hours laughing at stressed looking freshmen buying pregnancy tests before I went home. It was great.
When I went home for the summer I transferred to a Rite Aid in Tacompton. It was not the same at all. It was right across the street from the bus station and they had me on the cash register all the time because I was less offensive than most the other employees. One day I just quit going to work. They mailed me a paycheck. I have not been inside that Rite Aid since.
Back to school in a new place again and I got a job at a local diner. I worked 3 hours a day 5 days a week. I quit when I moved home, again after breaking it off with the guy I lived with.
Next I got a job at a fancy restaurant, run by an insane woman and her husband. Great money. While I was there I did everything including the hot bartender. After he quit to move to Seattle with his girlfriend, the job lost a lot of its appeal. I still kept it until I left for a study abroad program in Europe.
Upon returning from Europe, a friend who was in the same program as me at university #4 got me a job as a professional tree hugger. Actually it was more like professional slaking off. We got people to sign comment cards to send to the forest service. We did this while hanging out at festivals and stores all summer. We would watch a show for ½ an hour and then walk around getting people to sign things for ½ hour. When the comment period ended, so did our jobs. We went back to school and I went back to food service.
This time I got 2 jobs at once. Hostess at a swanky downtown Martini bar and lunch server at a chain pool hall. Throw some classes in the mix and I was a blur running from place to place. I slept every night from 3am to 10am and tried to catch a nap after class. It was hectic but I liked it that way.
I quit the Martini bar when they would not give me time off to go visit a friend in San Diego for New Years. January 1st the pool hall called to say they had closed their doors for good and I had no job.
I cut expenses and took the opportunity to take an unpaid internship. I got to work on lots of projects and had a good time there. Too bad it was all over when I graduated.
I got a job with a local development firm. The stress was high, I began to get migraines. Lots of people quit. A few were fired. I left without securing another job.
The same friend who got me the tree hugging job, got me a temp position at her work. I really like it here I just also like health care and money.
So there you have it, my long list of failures in the working world. But like a woman who has been divorced 10 times, I am sure this next one will be THE ONE. It has to be.
I must change jobs about 100 times more often than the average person. The other day I asked Boyfriend “Do you have to fill out a new W2 thing every year?” and as he gave me that exasperated look I realized I HAVE NEVER HELD A JOB FOR OVER A YEAR! I know you all want a list of every job I have ever had and I am only too happy to oblige. So here goes. . .
When I was 16 I worked at Jack-In-The-Box for a few months. My mom made me quit because the thriving social scene that is 12-teenagers-in-a-box was taking over my mind and running my life, not to mention my grades.
After the school year was over I started at IHOP. A definite step up. But I worked Wednesday nights, also known as “senior by one get one free” night. When an 80 year old woman explained to me why her digestive problems prohibited her form eating the nights side vegetable, I decided it was time for a change.
On to Cucina! Cucina! I was a hostess with 5 other pre-college girls and one primadona gay man. He was a royal pain in the ass. Anyone who can single handedly out shine 5 teenage girls in the drama department needs help. Technically I quit to “focus on college applications” but really I just couldn’t take it anymore.
My next job was at the first university I attended. I was a lab tech studying the DNA of peas. I doubt I really need to explain why this only lasted one semester.
I tried to work at Denny’s but they wouldn’t give me spring break off.
After that I came home and took some time off to explore the wonderful world of banking. I quit Washington Mutual when I broke up with my boyfriend on Christmas-Eve and moved from our Seattle apartment back in with my parents.
Next I worked at a “Steakhouse” which was actually more of a cover for a call girl ring. The owner was fat a creepy. There were never any customers. The cook was crazy. It was, however, a very easy job. I was the DJ in the lounge and I worked 3 nights a week plus events. When I found out why there were never any customers for dinner, I called and quit.
We are now at a point in the story where I work for the same company for over a year but hold three separate positions. I began as one of three file clerks in the billing office of Digestive Health Specialists. After much reorganization and a whole office building move, I became one of only two billing office assistants. When I graduated from Community College and could work full time hours, I took a job as Transcription Coordinator; a position which involved almost no typing.
After that, I moved to the second university I would attend. Here I got a job as a pizza delivery driver. I loved that job. I was good at it. I was fast and organized and a girl so I got great tips. People would call to order a pizza and ask them to send “that chick.” It was great. Sadly I had to quit because I was not comfortable driving in the snow.
My next job was at a pool hall. I was a cocktail waitress and apparently not a “friendly” enough one. They fired me right after the New Year.
Then I worked at Rite Aid. I loved that job too. I would come in early in the morning and stock things for a few hours. Just hours and hours of organizing things and no one there to bother you. Then I would spend a few hours laughing at stressed looking freshmen buying pregnancy tests before I went home. It was great.
When I went home for the summer I transferred to a Rite Aid in Tacompton. It was not the same at all. It was right across the street from the bus station and they had me on the cash register all the time because I was less offensive than most the other employees. One day I just quit going to work. They mailed me a paycheck. I have not been inside that Rite Aid since.
Back to school in a new place again and I got a job at a local diner. I worked 3 hours a day 5 days a week. I quit when I moved home, again after breaking it off with the guy I lived with.
Next I got a job at a fancy restaurant, run by an insane woman and her husband. Great money. While I was there I did everything including the hot bartender. After he quit to move to Seattle with his girlfriend, the job lost a lot of its appeal. I still kept it until I left for a study abroad program in Europe.
Upon returning from Europe, a friend who was in the same program as me at university #4 got me a job as a professional tree hugger. Actually it was more like professional slaking off. We got people to sign comment cards to send to the forest service. We did this while hanging out at festivals and stores all summer. We would watch a show for ½ an hour and then walk around getting people to sign things for ½ hour. When the comment period ended, so did our jobs. We went back to school and I went back to food service.
This time I got 2 jobs at once. Hostess at a swanky downtown Martini bar and lunch server at a chain pool hall. Throw some classes in the mix and I was a blur running from place to place. I slept every night from 3am to 10am and tried to catch a nap after class. It was hectic but I liked it that way.
I quit the Martini bar when they would not give me time off to go visit a friend in San Diego for New Years. January 1st the pool hall called to say they had closed their doors for good and I had no job.
I cut expenses and took the opportunity to take an unpaid internship. I got to work on lots of projects and had a good time there. Too bad it was all over when I graduated.
I got a job with a local development firm. The stress was high, I began to get migraines. Lots of people quit. A few were fired. I left without securing another job.
The same friend who got me the tree hugging job, got me a temp position at her work. I really like it here I just also like health care and money.
So there you have it, my long list of failures in the working world. But like a woman who has been divorced 10 times, I am sure this next one will be THE ONE. It has to be.
Friday, February 03, 2006
I got a fever. . .
Those of you who are not currently in the Seattle area may not know this but an epidemic has struck. A vile sickness has infested the population and few have been left unscathed. Most people are walking around looking green or blue and screaming and yelling all due to the effects of “Poser Seahawks Fan Fever.” There are some who have managed to escape PSFF infection. There are some who were immune because they have been long and loyal Seahawks fans (Hi Rachel!) but one look around my office today is enough to prove the severity of this epidemic.
I myself may have a low-grade case of PSFF. I mean I AM wearing my 100% totally awesome 1987 Seahawks sweatshirt. I have owned this sweatshirt since I was a kid. It was passed down to me as a hand me down play shirt from my only older cousin who is a boy. I wear it sometimes as a kind of joke. Also it makes me happy to fit into something I had in elementary school. Granted it was about 5 sizes to baggy at the time but hey, it was the 80s. The point is I don’t really like football as much as I like water chestnuts wrapped in bacon with a side of keg. I don’t really like football as much as bacon in general but I have dated people I like less than bacon (. . .James). I can tell my case is very mild however because I plan to ski through the Super Bowl (is that one word or 2?). Whatever, I will be slicing through the fresh powder all day not working on my beer/bacon combo belly.
So what if the Seahawks have never made it to the Super Bowl before? I didn’t care when they were losing and I don’t care all that much now. Really I don’t. Still, I could not give up the chance to actually wear this shirt to work. . . and maybe all weekend while I ski. What? You have a problem with that? You got something to say, Pittsburg?
I myself may have a low-grade case of PSFF. I mean I AM wearing my 100% totally awesome 1987 Seahawks sweatshirt. I have owned this sweatshirt since I was a kid. It was passed down to me as a hand me down play shirt from my only older cousin who is a boy. I wear it sometimes as a kind of joke. Also it makes me happy to fit into something I had in elementary school. Granted it was about 5 sizes to baggy at the time but hey, it was the 80s. The point is I don’t really like football as much as I like water chestnuts wrapped in bacon with a side of keg. I don’t really like football as much as bacon in general but I have dated people I like less than bacon (. . .James). I can tell my case is very mild however because I plan to ski through the Super Bowl (is that one word or 2?). Whatever, I will be slicing through the fresh powder all day not working on my beer/bacon combo belly.
So what if the Seahawks have never made it to the Super Bowl before? I didn’t care when they were losing and I don’t care all that much now. Really I don’t. Still, I could not give up the chance to actually wear this shirt to work. . . and maybe all weekend while I ski. What? You have a problem with that? You got something to say, Pittsburg?
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
My freind S is moving all her (and my dog's) shit into my house.
About six months ago I lived with S. We lived in a very small very scummy duplex and paid an equally small amount of money to an equally scummy landlord. While I lived with S my dog took a shit on the floor near the door almost every day.
Aside from this being disgusting and annoying, it was perplexing because my dog had at one time been house trained. I could think of nothing to do but I decided that when I graduated and got a better job I would have enough money to hire a dog problem specialist person to figure out a solution. That is almost what happened. What happened was I moved into a new place and the problem went away. He did have one indoor accident but it was entirely my fault for miscommunicating with my sister about who would let him out. The point is that we lived in the new house for 6 months and only once did have we have dog shit on the floor.
I figured Taj had been making some sort of statement about our previous living arrangements. Like “This place is shit! And I will shit all over it in protest. It is as shitty as the shitty pile of shitty shit you almost just stepped in!”
Turns out that is not at all what he was thinking.
You see, recently I agreed to let S move into my guest room until she starts grad school in London. Every day that she has come over to the house to move things in, Taj has left me sweet smelling presents on the carpet. This has now happened 2 days in a row. I am beginning to wonder what the connection could possibly be. Is this normal? Is S a trigger for Taj and his bowel movements? What should I do?
Aside from this being disgusting and annoying, it was perplexing because my dog had at one time been house trained. I could think of nothing to do but I decided that when I graduated and got a better job I would have enough money to hire a dog problem specialist person to figure out a solution. That is almost what happened. What happened was I moved into a new place and the problem went away. He did have one indoor accident but it was entirely my fault for miscommunicating with my sister about who would let him out. The point is that we lived in the new house for 6 months and only once did have we have dog shit on the floor.
I figured Taj had been making some sort of statement about our previous living arrangements. Like “This place is shit! And I will shit all over it in protest. It is as shitty as the shitty pile of shitty shit you almost just stepped in!”
Turns out that is not at all what he was thinking.
You see, recently I agreed to let S move into my guest room until she starts grad school in London. Every day that she has come over to the house to move things in, Taj has left me sweet smelling presents on the carpet. This has now happened 2 days in a row. I am beginning to wonder what the connection could possibly be. Is this normal? Is S a trigger for Taj and his bowel movements? What should I do?
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