Not referencing the great musical number from "Enchanted." No, I'm talking more about jobs and what the future holds, mostly because in about a week I'll be unemployed for an unknown amount of time.
Here's the question I keep getting asked: what do you want to do? I understand that I should have some idea of what I want to do, but in all honesty, I don't. I'm apparently not like the rest of the world because I have no idea what I specifically want to do. I haven't narrowed it down at all. In fact, if I had my choice, I'd do a bunch of things over the course of my lifetime. These would include: event planning, the training and hiring field of human resources, logistics, singer, wedding planner, bookstore, bakery, dog walking, interior design, music industry, hotel/travel industry, editing, advising. Clearly I have no idea what I want to do because I want to do it all!
Why do we have to make up our mind now about what we want to do for the rest of our lives? Can't I be like the Europeans who only work to live? They do what they do to support themselves, or at least that's the mentality. That's why they take siestas at 3:00 every day for hours on end and are up at all hours. They live a carefree lifestyle that keeps their stress level down and their general outlook on life up. I would move to Europe in a heartbeat, by the way. Find me a Scotsman and settle down. That'd be grand.
Back to the point. I have too many areas I want to be able to concentrate in that I don't know what I really want to do. I don't think I could choose just one. And, yes, I have a Bachelor's degree, but all that's good for these days is what I'm doing right now: office work. And I enjoy office work. It's not stressful, I get little projects to work on and keep me busy, people leave me alone to do my thing, I get to socialize with the rest of the people in the area and get to know them. I don't know if I want to be forced into getting a higher degree just so I can do something that's slightly more complex. For example, advising. I'm good at it. I've been doing it for years but didn't know there was a name for it until I spent the last two years practicing it as an AHD. I know I'm good at it, and yet I have to have a Masters in it in order to get this really perfect-for-me job. What happened to the good old days when experience mattered in addition to education?
Now I spend my days updating my resume and looking for jobs. I joined a site that filters those without the correct experience out of the job pool, and that leaves me with six options according to my skills I've listed on the website. I looked on the state website that uses this filtering system and found at least 10 I'd be good at and want to apply for, but only one of them is also on the list of the original six. That's a flaw - what about matching skills over experience. Skills are transferable, people! I'm a totally viable candidate for most of the positions up there that require a pleasant phone voice, friendly personality, and common sense, but according to this matching website I can only be considered for six. Ridiculous.
When will we be able to do what we're good at and not worry that our experience also matches? Are we forever stuck in the path we started on? What if I want to stray off into another direction? I do that everyday and I know I'm going to do that when it comes to my job path. Side note: I keep adding things to the list of fields I'd love to work in. I can't stop. Here's another: crochet blankets and sell them online. I'm going to go wash up and get ready for bed - I get too depressed when it comes to job applications.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Saturday, August 15, 2009
What a crappy day
Weather wasn't all that great either. I had a pretty bad start this morning, and if only I knew how it would end. Actually, the end hasn't been so bad.
Here's the rundown: This weekend I've been the Hall Director on duty while the rest of Residence Life frolics in wild unknown on a retreat. It's not that unknown. Mostly it's a center near a river and there aren't a lot of people around. More rural than anything. Point being, I'm doing them this huge favor by sleeping on campus and responding in case anything happens. More of an insurance policy if anything. Last night nothing happened. Nothing has happened so far tonight, either. But I'm in a very old building on the complete other side of campus from everyone else and the room has poor air circulation. This leads us into today's crappyness.
Last night I had the window open so it was at least a little cooler in here. That led to whatever blooms outside the window to get it's little pollen bits into the room, which led to me waking up with a headache (I have bad allergies). So, I have this slight headache for a good portion of the morning which increases in pain and tension until about 1:00. I had left campus and headed home while most people had their Saturday morning sleep-in, had breakfast, played with the babies a little, showered, and gone to Target before that time, so not too bad. But the headache needed to go, so I took an Excedrin - best medicine for a headache of any kind. After some lunch and a bit of a rest, I finally felt well enough to go to the grocery store. Low on food, makes sense to fill up the refridgerator with the essentials.
This is when the day got really crappy. I'm out the door in the garage when I realized I had forgotten something inside - what? I can't remember anymore - and went to get my house keys when I realized I didn't have them. Panic sets in. No, I tell myself, I have them, they are definitely here, I know I grabbed them. No, I didn't. Apparently the one thing I needed at that moment I didn't have. I looked in the back seat where I put my reusable bags after I had closed the door. Not there. I completely emptied the contents of my purse onto the passenger seat. Not there. This can't be happening, I told myself. I began to panic. The panic accelerated my blood too much, and because I have low blood pressure (it's just as bad as high blood pressure) I started to feel faint from the rapid increase in blood flow. Oh gosh, I told myself. No, wait, there is a spare key in the garage for just such an occasion. I went to the holder and found a key. This will get me in, stop worrying. I tried the key in the door, and it went in but turned nothing. Oh no. I looked at the key. It's the one to the gate, I said out loud. Oh god. I went out the garage to the back door and tried the key again. Oh god, it really is the key to the gate! This is not happening. Major panic setting in, nearing hyperventilation, feeling really faint. I looked for my cell phone in my purse. Oh god, it's not here! I thought to myself, I have no way of getting a hold of anyone. I'm going to be locked out forever. I looked on the back seat and luckily I had placed my cell phone near the reusable bags and it was sitting there waiting for me. Thank god! I called my mom in my panic. "I locked myself out," I sobbed. "And I tried the key. It's the wrong key. I don't have any resources to call anyone." "What do you want me to do?" she asked. "I'm not there. I can't let you in." "I know," I said, "but I don't have any resources because I'm in the garage and I don't have Google or a phone book and I need you to help me by calling a locksmith." So, she called one and he was on his way. Nope. I sat in my car. I got out and paced the garage. I got back in my car. I waited and waited with nothing to do and no plan on going anywhere until I was back inside. 50 minutes later I call the locksmith. "Hi this is that person locked out of her house. It's been almost an hour and I was wondering how much longer it might be?" I managed to hold back the tears. "It will be about 30 minutes. I'm helping a woman who locked her child in the car." "Oh, I guess that's OK. Just checking." I felt a little like a chump, but not really because people should call when they're going to be over an hour from their destination. Got KFarr to come help me attempt to pick the lock. "Do you have a key or something we could use?" he asked over the phone as he was preparing to leave his house. "Uh, no. I don't. My toolbox is inside with key. Not a great scenario." I started welling up again. He showed up about 10 minutes later with paper clips and a few screwdrivers. "We'll see what we can do," he said. Yeah, we did nothing to help the situation. Finally, at 4:00 (about 15 minutes after KFarr arrived), the locksmith called that he was outside the gate. I get to the corner to see him trying to beat the car gate closing on his Jeep Cheroke. I showed him the locks on the house. "These are good locks," he said. "Good to know," I respond. What do you say when you're locked out and the locksmith is commenting on the quality of the locks? "OK, so there are three ways to get this open," he said. "I'll first try picking it. If that doesn't work, we'll have to use air pressure. If that doesn't work, I'll have to drill a hole in the lock and it won't be usable." Awesome, I thought to myself. Luckily, he got to step two and it popped open. I've never been so happy about being home in my life! I sign the receipt for $80 - because the ten minutes it took him to open the door cost $50 on top of the $30 travel fee - and peace out Mr. Locksmith.
Basically the rest of my day has been kicking myself over the dumb stupid mistake of leaving my keys inside, and then spending an hour and a half sitting on the couch before heading back to campus for another night of duty.
Here's what angers me about the situation: There was a house key in the tin. Where the fuck did it go?! But moreso, why the fuck did I leave that damn key in the house in the first place? How did I manage that? I always grab all my keys before leaving! What happened? But really, where the hell did that key go? And then not being able to be in my house tonight after spending two hours locked outside of it really makes me angry. I didn't get anything done this afternoon because I was so upset. Didn't get to the damn store. Didn't get a chance to start my laundry. This whole damn weekend was ruined by being on duty, because I was trying to get things done before my mandatory campus lockdown. I hate duty.
Two hours! I was locked out for two hours! I spent most of those two hours trying not to cry. That didn't work out so well. And then I was just angry it took so long to get the locksmith there. Seriously? There wasn't another guy they could have sent while he was getting the kid out of the car? I never want to feel that vulnerable again. I hated it. I hated feeling stupid for leaving the key in the first place. I'm angry at myself for that.
Plus side, the locksmith did say we might be able to file with insurance to get money back from the lockout. That would be nice.
Moral of the story: Have at least two keys in a variety of secure locations in case this happens to you. It was expensive, embarassing, and awful. I wish it upon no one.
Here's the rundown: This weekend I've been the Hall Director on duty while the rest of Residence Life frolics in wild unknown on a retreat. It's not that unknown. Mostly it's a center near a river and there aren't a lot of people around. More rural than anything. Point being, I'm doing them this huge favor by sleeping on campus and responding in case anything happens. More of an insurance policy if anything. Last night nothing happened. Nothing has happened so far tonight, either. But I'm in a very old building on the complete other side of campus from everyone else and the room has poor air circulation. This leads us into today's crappyness.
Last night I had the window open so it was at least a little cooler in here. That led to whatever blooms outside the window to get it's little pollen bits into the room, which led to me waking up with a headache (I have bad allergies). So, I have this slight headache for a good portion of the morning which increases in pain and tension until about 1:00. I had left campus and headed home while most people had their Saturday morning sleep-in, had breakfast, played with the babies a little, showered, and gone to Target before that time, so not too bad. But the headache needed to go, so I took an Excedrin - best medicine for a headache of any kind. After some lunch and a bit of a rest, I finally felt well enough to go to the grocery store. Low on food, makes sense to fill up the refridgerator with the essentials.
This is when the day got really crappy. I'm out the door in the garage when I realized I had forgotten something inside - what? I can't remember anymore - and went to get my house keys when I realized I didn't have them. Panic sets in. No, I tell myself, I have them, they are definitely here, I know I grabbed them. No, I didn't. Apparently the one thing I needed at that moment I didn't have. I looked in the back seat where I put my reusable bags after I had closed the door. Not there. I completely emptied the contents of my purse onto the passenger seat. Not there. This can't be happening, I told myself. I began to panic. The panic accelerated my blood too much, and because I have low blood pressure (it's just as bad as high blood pressure) I started to feel faint from the rapid increase in blood flow. Oh gosh, I told myself. No, wait, there is a spare key in the garage for just such an occasion. I went to the holder and found a key. This will get me in, stop worrying. I tried the key in the door, and it went in but turned nothing. Oh no. I looked at the key. It's the one to the gate, I said out loud. Oh god. I went out the garage to the back door and tried the key again. Oh god, it really is the key to the gate! This is not happening. Major panic setting in, nearing hyperventilation, feeling really faint. I looked for my cell phone in my purse. Oh god, it's not here! I thought to myself, I have no way of getting a hold of anyone. I'm going to be locked out forever. I looked on the back seat and luckily I had placed my cell phone near the reusable bags and it was sitting there waiting for me. Thank god! I called my mom in my panic. "I locked myself out," I sobbed. "And I tried the key. It's the wrong key. I don't have any resources to call anyone." "What do you want me to do?" she asked. "I'm not there. I can't let you in." "I know," I said, "but I don't have any resources because I'm in the garage and I don't have Google or a phone book and I need you to help me by calling a locksmith." So, she called one and he was on his way. Nope. I sat in my car. I got out and paced the garage. I got back in my car. I waited and waited with nothing to do and no plan on going anywhere until I was back inside. 50 minutes later I call the locksmith. "Hi this is that person locked out of her house. It's been almost an hour and I was wondering how much longer it might be?" I managed to hold back the tears. "It will be about 30 minutes. I'm helping a woman who locked her child in the car." "Oh, I guess that's OK. Just checking." I felt a little like a chump, but not really because people should call when they're going to be over an hour from their destination. Got KFarr to come help me attempt to pick the lock. "Do you have a key or something we could use?" he asked over the phone as he was preparing to leave his house. "Uh, no. I don't. My toolbox is inside with key. Not a great scenario." I started welling up again. He showed up about 10 minutes later with paper clips and a few screwdrivers. "We'll see what we can do," he said. Yeah, we did nothing to help the situation. Finally, at 4:00 (about 15 minutes after KFarr arrived), the locksmith called that he was outside the gate. I get to the corner to see him trying to beat the car gate closing on his Jeep Cheroke. I showed him the locks on the house. "These are good locks," he said. "Good to know," I respond. What do you say when you're locked out and the locksmith is commenting on the quality of the locks? "OK, so there are three ways to get this open," he said. "I'll first try picking it. If that doesn't work, we'll have to use air pressure. If that doesn't work, I'll have to drill a hole in the lock and it won't be usable." Awesome, I thought to myself. Luckily, he got to step two and it popped open. I've never been so happy about being home in my life! I sign the receipt for $80 - because the ten minutes it took him to open the door cost $50 on top of the $30 travel fee - and peace out Mr. Locksmith.
Basically the rest of my day has been kicking myself over the dumb stupid mistake of leaving my keys inside, and then spending an hour and a half sitting on the couch before heading back to campus for another night of duty.
Here's what angers me about the situation: There was a house key in the tin. Where the fuck did it go?! But moreso, why the fuck did I leave that damn key in the house in the first place? How did I manage that? I always grab all my keys before leaving! What happened? But really, where the hell did that key go? And then not being able to be in my house tonight after spending two hours locked outside of it really makes me angry. I didn't get anything done this afternoon because I was so upset. Didn't get to the damn store. Didn't get a chance to start my laundry. This whole damn weekend was ruined by being on duty, because I was trying to get things done before my mandatory campus lockdown. I hate duty.
Two hours! I was locked out for two hours! I spent most of those two hours trying not to cry. That didn't work out so well. And then I was just angry it took so long to get the locksmith there. Seriously? There wasn't another guy they could have sent while he was getting the kid out of the car? I never want to feel that vulnerable again. I hated it. I hated feeling stupid for leaving the key in the first place. I'm angry at myself for that.
Plus side, the locksmith did say we might be able to file with insurance to get money back from the lockout. That would be nice.
Moral of the story: Have at least two keys in a variety of secure locations in case this happens to you. It was expensive, embarassing, and awful. I wish it upon no one.
Friday, August 7, 2009
Oh, friends
Last Friday I had a great talk with my friend, Kate, who I haven't seen in a while and needed to hear from. And then I called my friend, Derek, who has been stationed in Idaho with his lovely wife, Holly, for way too long.
I miss the days when all you had to do to see a friend was walk less than 100 yards to their house or dorm room. I find it very hard to catch up with my friends who have moved out of the area. Or friends who are still in the same town but live on the other side. Am I the only one?
Maybe I'm depressed. I don't have a friend here to live with me so I don't get lonely. I have two pet rats, precious but don't contribute much to conversation.
Recently I've been getting urges to go out and do something. What do I do, though? I sit around the house. Everyone already has plans with their roommates, or someone who lives closer to them. Spontaneity does not happen as frequently as it once did. In college, if I wanted to get some cake there was usually at least one of three other housemates who wanted to get cake, too. Or would go for a walk with me.
I am lonely. I admit to it. Totally. I'm lonely for friends. I'm lonely for a significant other. Living on your own totally sucks... and now to find a job.
I miss the days when all you had to do to see a friend was walk less than 100 yards to their house or dorm room. I find it very hard to catch up with my friends who have moved out of the area. Or friends who are still in the same town but live on the other side. Am I the only one?
Maybe I'm depressed. I don't have a friend here to live with me so I don't get lonely. I have two pet rats, precious but don't contribute much to conversation.
Recently I've been getting urges to go out and do something. What do I do, though? I sit around the house. Everyone already has plans with their roommates, or someone who lives closer to them. Spontaneity does not happen as frequently as it once did. In college, if I wanted to get some cake there was usually at least one of three other housemates who wanted to get cake, too. Or would go for a walk with me.
I am lonely. I admit to it. Totally. I'm lonely for friends. I'm lonely for a significant other. Living on your own totally sucks... and now to find a job.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
What the future holds
Based on the conversations and communication from incoming first-year students, I think we have a lot to worry about for future generations.
First, most of the time it isn't them calling but their parents calling "on behalf of" their student. I understand most of these parents are paying the bills, but are they always going to be there when their kid has a problem? Are they going to teach them responsibility and self-reliability? No wonder kids these days can handle anything themselves.
Second, they are rude. This generation has a sense of entitlement unlike any before. When things don't go their way, they get upset and yell at you. Or they treat you like you're an idiot because they are the ones not articulating their problem correctly. Apparently we are supposed to meet every need and demand of these students. Sorry, folks - not realistic.
Third, similar to the second, they have no manners. Phone etiquette is a big thing to have to learn in one year, and the way these kids communicate over the phone will result in major catch-up when they leave the university system and are forced to call a future employer or take care of finances. Getting upset with the office assistant and demanding that changes be made immediately also do not work. The title "office assistant" alone should provide an idea of the amount of power she has in fixing the problem. That would be zero in case you're still wondering.
Fourth, the need for immediate gratification means they'll never have fun. These are kids who don't know what the world was like before the internet. They had a keyboard in their hands by age five. Text messaging was always an option for them when they got their own cell phone, at age 12. We've been getting phone calls from people who aren't willing to experience something different for once. They are unhappy about their placement and were spoiled as small children to get everything they want. Guess what, kiddies - life isn't fair and you're not always going to get what you want, so suck it up and get used to it.
A lot of these seem redundant, and perhaps that is because the fifth problem is they are redundant. No original ideas will come from the generation getting ready to enter college. The same reasons why theirs is a different situation from others keeps coming up. The redundancy comes from their concept of the world, which revolves around them if you were to ask them a question. They probably have never had to think for themselves, and they probably have had few experiences with thinking of others.
Hopefully attending this school, which highly values making people into good citizens of the world, will at least open their eyes. Many of the students here don't care. They think of college as a party every night, don't worry about studying, many of the athletes are getting a full ride and expect to become pros immediately after graduation. I laygh at the student athletes.
I see the future full of egocentric people who can't think for themselves and expect things to be handed to them. It's going to be a hard time getting these kids motivated. But maybe they'll surprise me and turn out to be the best generation yet. Doubtful, but there's always hope.
First, most of the time it isn't them calling but their parents calling "on behalf of" their student. I understand most of these parents are paying the bills, but are they always going to be there when their kid has a problem? Are they going to teach them responsibility and self-reliability? No wonder kids these days can handle anything themselves.
Second, they are rude. This generation has a sense of entitlement unlike any before. When things don't go their way, they get upset and yell at you. Or they treat you like you're an idiot because they are the ones not articulating their problem correctly. Apparently we are supposed to meet every need and demand of these students. Sorry, folks - not realistic.
Third, similar to the second, they have no manners. Phone etiquette is a big thing to have to learn in one year, and the way these kids communicate over the phone will result in major catch-up when they leave the university system and are forced to call a future employer or take care of finances. Getting upset with the office assistant and demanding that changes be made immediately also do not work. The title "office assistant" alone should provide an idea of the amount of power she has in fixing the problem. That would be zero in case you're still wondering.
Fourth, the need for immediate gratification means they'll never have fun. These are kids who don't know what the world was like before the internet. They had a keyboard in their hands by age five. Text messaging was always an option for them when they got their own cell phone, at age 12. We've been getting phone calls from people who aren't willing to experience something different for once. They are unhappy about their placement and were spoiled as small children to get everything they want. Guess what, kiddies - life isn't fair and you're not always going to get what you want, so suck it up and get used to it.
A lot of these seem redundant, and perhaps that is because the fifth problem is they are redundant. No original ideas will come from the generation getting ready to enter college. The same reasons why theirs is a different situation from others keeps coming up. The redundancy comes from their concept of the world, which revolves around them if you were to ask them a question. They probably have never had to think for themselves, and they probably have had few experiences with thinking of others.
Hopefully attending this school, which highly values making people into good citizens of the world, will at least open their eyes. Many of the students here don't care. They think of college as a party every night, don't worry about studying, many of the athletes are getting a full ride and expect to become pros immediately after graduation. I laygh at the student athletes.
I see the future full of egocentric people who can't think for themselves and expect things to be handed to them. It's going to be a hard time getting these kids motivated. But maybe they'll surprise me and turn out to be the best generation yet. Doubtful, but there's always hope.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
A little gross
If you're a pet person, specifically a rat person, then this will be slightly entertaining to you. Gross and entertaining. And, surprisingly, I've heard a similar story recently involving two dachshunds.
Bringing my babies some food this morning, I saw Annabel coming up to the cage in anticipation. She knows that when a human comes to the cage two things happen: she is either released from her metal prison and gets to roam around, or the miracle that is a full food dish comes into being. So, I looked down on and saw something at the bottom of her neck. Why, it was a poop, one that looked like someone consumed too much dairy. I flicked the piece off of Annabel using a tissue, which she thought was a game and tried to take the tissue from me. I thought about taking her out to give her a mini-bath, but thought that making her do something else against her will might make her angry with me. I had already force-fed her the antibiotics for her respiratory infection.
I got a little concerned. Buffy was already running around the room, getting in her morning exercise. I decided to lift up their wooden house, since there is only one way to get poop to land on a rat without sitting on her directly, and thought that a second-story attack was probably what happened. Well, I was correct in my assumption, but I had no idea to what degree. It was like a rat had exploded. I have never seen so much crap. It didn't help that they probably spread it around with their feet and investigated it with their snouts. Thinking about that latter makes me nervous. So I removed the poop bombed bedding with a glove - there was no way I'd have removed that without some sort of protection - and replaced it.
I decided the possible reason for the explosion was a food source. One of two items will be temporarily removed from their diet: cilantro and milk. The cilantro is an herb they love. They eat it up as though they were slurping up spaghetti. The milk is a little treat they discovered on their own. I had left my bowl of milk on the floor and they found a delicious white liquid was located in the bottom of the bowl. I'm not sure which of these could be the culprit, but I'm concerned that spoiling the rat babies with these treats might not be the best decision. Exploding rats is not something I'm fond of, especially given the amount of poo I found on their bedding. It took up probably 1/6 of the 3" by 4" piece of towel they sleep on. Impressive that that much came out of something so small. Not so fun to clean up or find on the back of one of the rats.
I'm still not sure whether Buffy intentionally launched her poop bomb onto Annabel or if Annabel was an innocent bystander in the wrong place at the wrong time. We'll see what surprises they have for me when I get home today. And I just cleaned their cage!
Bringing my babies some food this morning, I saw Annabel coming up to the cage in anticipation. She knows that when a human comes to the cage two things happen: she is either released from her metal prison and gets to roam around, or the miracle that is a full food dish comes into being. So, I looked down on and saw something at the bottom of her neck. Why, it was a poop, one that looked like someone consumed too much dairy. I flicked the piece off of Annabel using a tissue, which she thought was a game and tried to take the tissue from me. I thought about taking her out to give her a mini-bath, but thought that making her do something else against her will might make her angry with me. I had already force-fed her the antibiotics for her respiratory infection.
I got a little concerned. Buffy was already running around the room, getting in her morning exercise. I decided to lift up their wooden house, since there is only one way to get poop to land on a rat without sitting on her directly, and thought that a second-story attack was probably what happened. Well, I was correct in my assumption, but I had no idea to what degree. It was like a rat had exploded. I have never seen so much crap. It didn't help that they probably spread it around with their feet and investigated it with their snouts. Thinking about that latter makes me nervous. So I removed the poop bombed bedding with a glove - there was no way I'd have removed that without some sort of protection - and replaced it.
I decided the possible reason for the explosion was a food source. One of two items will be temporarily removed from their diet: cilantro and milk. The cilantro is an herb they love. They eat it up as though they were slurping up spaghetti. The milk is a little treat they discovered on their own. I had left my bowl of milk on the floor and they found a delicious white liquid was located in the bottom of the bowl. I'm not sure which of these could be the culprit, but I'm concerned that spoiling the rat babies with these treats might not be the best decision. Exploding rats is not something I'm fond of, especially given the amount of poo I found on their bedding. It took up probably 1/6 of the 3" by 4" piece of towel they sleep on. Impressive that that much came out of something so small. Not so fun to clean up or find on the back of one of the rats.
I'm still not sure whether Buffy intentionally launched her poop bomb onto Annabel or if Annabel was an innocent bystander in the wrong place at the wrong time. We'll see what surprises they have for me when I get home today. And I just cleaned their cage!
Monday, July 13, 2009
Ugh, work
By the way, I really don't want to be at work today and I'm going to do my best to get out of here early to go shopping, pay bills, and clean the house. Thrilling, I know. It'd be more productive than sitting here and blogging and looking for jobs.
I want to get a Tiffany's necklace, but I might save that for another day. There comes a point in your life when jewelry becomes a treat. Like doughnuts or cupcakes.
Maybe I'll write a novel when I (hopefully) go home early. I'm feeling inspired, creative. I could totally do it.
Maybe find airfare to one of the American Idol tryout locations and fly there. Damn not having a vacation until after 28 August. I'd abandon my obligations to go do anything but be here.
I want to get a Tiffany's necklace, but I might save that for another day. There comes a point in your life when jewelry becomes a treat. Like doughnuts or cupcakes.
Maybe I'll write a novel when I (hopefully) go home early. I'm feeling inspired, creative. I could totally do it.
Maybe find airfare to one of the American Idol tryout locations and fly there. Damn not having a vacation until after 28 August. I'd abandon my obligations to go do anything but be here.
What we did today at the office
Basically, a few of my coworkers and I decided that we didn't want to be here, so for the first couple hours when I got here was did absolutely nothing but chat. And what did we chat about? We chatted about how it sucks to be a single woman in today's society.
We stretched the gamut from the apparent social requirement to participate in dating websites to the potential of finding a date through a matchmaker to the effort it takes to date these days. Does it really have to be as hard as it is? It's not like I have had a stream of dates lately, but I'm not willing to give up on old-fashioned asking someone out in person yet. And why is it that men you are interested in (or women for those of you out there interested in women) always seem to be involved with someone else?!
I hate the world of dating. I want it to be over with already. I'm probably doomed, anyway. Looking at the role models for the world of dating that I've had (divorced parents, and then their attempts at relationships with others), I'm going to have to work really hard to defy the same behavior. I am stubborn and determined to do so, but it's not a guarantee.
When you've gone out with the following types, you would be happy for one nice, normal date:
- rejection because the guy was hung up on some girl who dumped him
- guy takes you on one date and forgets to tell you he thought asking you out one month before summer was a bad choice, so he just ignores you
- having to man-up because the guy doesn't know how to date (seriously?) and talks about pigeons for the first 20 minutes
- dealing with awkward hug-hold things for only two dates because you know that guy is only interested in one thing
- (this one's not a date, but still) honestly not knowing a guy had a girlfriend and flirting with him, building some feelings, and then finding that out and have him still flirt with you and confuse you
Is there any way to make this phase of your life go any faster? Sad panda.
We stretched the gamut from the apparent social requirement to participate in dating websites to the potential of finding a date through a matchmaker to the effort it takes to date these days. Does it really have to be as hard as it is? It's not like I have had a stream of dates lately, but I'm not willing to give up on old-fashioned asking someone out in person yet. And why is it that men you are interested in (or women for those of you out there interested in women) always seem to be involved with someone else?!
I hate the world of dating. I want it to be over with already. I'm probably doomed, anyway. Looking at the role models for the world of dating that I've had (divorced parents, and then their attempts at relationships with others), I'm going to have to work really hard to defy the same behavior. I am stubborn and determined to do so, but it's not a guarantee.
When you've gone out with the following types, you would be happy for one nice, normal date:
- rejection because the guy was hung up on some girl who dumped him
- guy takes you on one date and forgets to tell you he thought asking you out one month before summer was a bad choice, so he just ignores you
- having to man-up because the guy doesn't know how to date (seriously?) and talks about pigeons for the first 20 minutes
- dealing with awkward hug-hold things for only two dates because you know that guy is only interested in one thing
- (this one's not a date, but still) honestly not knowing a guy had a girlfriend and flirting with him, building some feelings, and then finding that out and have him still flirt with you and confuse you
Is there any way to make this phase of your life go any faster? Sad panda.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Job hunting
I think that anyone out there who is currently looking, or has looked, for a job would agree with me: the whole process is ridiculously stressful, exhausting, tedious, overall a horrible experience. Finding and getting the job you want rocks. The process to getting there does not match up on the level of awesomeness.
Update your resume. Look for job postings. Network with people - not just finding your network, but asking them to keep you in mind when they hear about a job that opens up. Pressure from outside elements (parents, mostly) asking if you've found a job yet or how the job hunt is going. Submitting applications. Not hearing anything back from the companies. Submitting more applications. Maybe getting an interview. Tweaking your resume so you look more appealing to the employers. Submitting applications again. It's never-ending! And I keep hearing that I'm doing everything correctly.
Maybe I should be more active in my application process. It gets to a point when I get home from work and the last thing I want to do is apply for jobs. Or I research potential jobs at work when I most definitely should not be doing that. And the stress of not doing everything I possibly can gets to this point where I feel completely apathetic towards the whole process. When I get stressed, whatever it is I'm stressed about gets temporarily pushed out of my mind and I focus on menial tasks. Watching back to back episodes of NCIS, mostly. There is always something else I could be doing.
Won't someone just give me a job? S/he hears that I'm looking to move on into a world of living on my own and commuting and happy hours, and that I'm perfect for this one job available at her/his place of work, and I'm set. I've got a job. Oh how I wish some things in life were just handed to you. Or that the government would have a job waiting for you when you left your current place of employment. That'd be grand.
I guess we know what I'm doing this weekend. Woo-hoo.
Update your resume. Look for job postings. Network with people - not just finding your network, but asking them to keep you in mind when they hear about a job that opens up. Pressure from outside elements (parents, mostly) asking if you've found a job yet or how the job hunt is going. Submitting applications. Not hearing anything back from the companies. Submitting more applications. Maybe getting an interview. Tweaking your resume so you look more appealing to the employers. Submitting applications again. It's never-ending! And I keep hearing that I'm doing everything correctly.
Maybe I should be more active in my application process. It gets to a point when I get home from work and the last thing I want to do is apply for jobs. Or I research potential jobs at work when I most definitely should not be doing that. And the stress of not doing everything I possibly can gets to this point where I feel completely apathetic towards the whole process. When I get stressed, whatever it is I'm stressed about gets temporarily pushed out of my mind and I focus on menial tasks. Watching back to back episodes of NCIS, mostly. There is always something else I could be doing.
Won't someone just give me a job? S/he hears that I'm looking to move on into a world of living on my own and commuting and happy hours, and that I'm perfect for this one job available at her/his place of work, and I'm set. I've got a job. Oh how I wish some things in life were just handed to you. Or that the government would have a job waiting for you when you left your current place of employment. That'd be grand.
I guess we know what I'm doing this weekend. Woo-hoo.
Monday, July 6, 2009
And we call it the 4th of July
It was a pretty great day. It was relaxing and not a lot happened, and that was great to me. How often do we, Americans, allow ourselves a day off? Not very often. That is why it was great. Hanging out with friends. Having a barbecue, as is tradition for any proper 4th of July celebration. Playing some games, in our case some Redneck Golf in the middle of the driveway. Watching friends get tipsy-drunk. Watching fireworks and playing with a few of our own. Classic 4th of July.
However, for all those reasons it was great, it didn't minimize the increasing concerns over the course of the day, concerns being related to one specific thing: fireworks. Oh, yes. We Americans love our fireworks on the 4th, maybe a little too much. We go to states where we can get fireworks illegal in our own state. We start lighting them as soon as the sun begins to set and the shadow of night begins to fall. We create our own fireworks show because the one put on by the city could never be as good as ours. We, Americans, become pyromaniacs as soon as the week of the 4th is upon us, and there is no holding back when flame and fuse are in the same vicinity.
I'm all for fireworks. I'm as big a pyromaniac as any American out there. However, I would like to suggest some guidelines for where and when fireworks are acceptable for the two weeks surrounding the 4th of July. Here they are:
1. Small fireworks, such as sparklers and spinning flowers and fountains, are good ideas of what should be lit in the comfort of your front yard.
2. Large fireworks, such as Piccolo Pete's and the kind they use in official productions, are not appropriate for home use. Yes, they are cool, but they are dangerous in areas where houses are close together and grass is dry. What happens if they don't make it past the treeline? Possible visit from the fire department is what happens. Maybe go to an open field or a large water source to use this kind of fireworks.
3. Shooting roman candles or fireworks across a main thoroughfare is not a wise decision. You might hit a car. You might hit an unsuspecting pedestrian walking on the sidewalk. Or a bicyclist who cannot divert their route due to obstacles in their way, like cars and buses. Or worse, a car could divert their route into a bicyclist or bus or pedestrian. Generally, shooting fireworks across the street is unwise.
4. Shooting fireworks for one hour after the official show is over is acceptable. That would bring most firework activity to a standstill at about 11:00 pm, maybe 11:30, midnight is pushing it. Still lighting fireworks at 2:45am is not cool. It's juvenile. It's disruptive. It's annoying. I'm really sure the neighbors and their pets don't appreciate the splendor of an exploding firework above the house as much as you do. In some places, this kind of behavior would warrant a visit from the police department or the distinct sound of a shotgun getting ready to be fired or even water coming at you from the garden hose. It's not nice, so don't do it.
5. When the 4th of July is over, so is the usage of fireworks. Get over the fact that you still have fireworks left. Store them in a safe place and use them next year. It's not our fault you failed to use them in the appropriate time frame.
Hopefully, these guidelines will assist in future fireworks activity. Like I said, I love fireworks, but there's a limit that we as people of this lovely nation should follow as a sign of respect to those around us. We call ourselves the greatest nation in the world, so let's show them we're not blowing hot air out of our ass.
Happy 4th, everyone. Hopefully you were all safe and had a great day.
However, for all those reasons it was great, it didn't minimize the increasing concerns over the course of the day, concerns being related to one specific thing: fireworks. Oh, yes. We Americans love our fireworks on the 4th, maybe a little too much. We go to states where we can get fireworks illegal in our own state. We start lighting them as soon as the sun begins to set and the shadow of night begins to fall. We create our own fireworks show because the one put on by the city could never be as good as ours. We, Americans, become pyromaniacs as soon as the week of the 4th is upon us, and there is no holding back when flame and fuse are in the same vicinity.
I'm all for fireworks. I'm as big a pyromaniac as any American out there. However, I would like to suggest some guidelines for where and when fireworks are acceptable for the two weeks surrounding the 4th of July. Here they are:
1. Small fireworks, such as sparklers and spinning flowers and fountains, are good ideas of what should be lit in the comfort of your front yard.
2. Large fireworks, such as Piccolo Pete's and the kind they use in official productions, are not appropriate for home use. Yes, they are cool, but they are dangerous in areas where houses are close together and grass is dry. What happens if they don't make it past the treeline? Possible visit from the fire department is what happens. Maybe go to an open field or a large water source to use this kind of fireworks.
3. Shooting roman candles or fireworks across a main thoroughfare is not a wise decision. You might hit a car. You might hit an unsuspecting pedestrian walking on the sidewalk. Or a bicyclist who cannot divert their route due to obstacles in their way, like cars and buses. Or worse, a car could divert their route into a bicyclist or bus or pedestrian. Generally, shooting fireworks across the street is unwise.
4. Shooting fireworks for one hour after the official show is over is acceptable. That would bring most firework activity to a standstill at about 11:00 pm, maybe 11:30, midnight is pushing it. Still lighting fireworks at 2:45am is not cool. It's juvenile. It's disruptive. It's annoying. I'm really sure the neighbors and their pets don't appreciate the splendor of an exploding firework above the house as much as you do. In some places, this kind of behavior would warrant a visit from the police department or the distinct sound of a shotgun getting ready to be fired or even water coming at you from the garden hose. It's not nice, so don't do it.
5. When the 4th of July is over, so is the usage of fireworks. Get over the fact that you still have fireworks left. Store them in a safe place and use them next year. It's not our fault you failed to use them in the appropriate time frame.
Hopefully, these guidelines will assist in future fireworks activity. Like I said, I love fireworks, but there's a limit that we as people of this lovely nation should follow as a sign of respect to those around us. We call ourselves the greatest nation in the world, so let's show them we're not blowing hot air out of our ass.
Happy 4th, everyone. Hopefully you were all safe and had a great day.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Rat babies
I was going to write about my annoyances in cleaning the house yesterday and how I kept finding a ridiculous amount of my mom's stuff everywhere, but instead the rat babies have drawn my attention. And please don't be grossed out, because these are rat baby pets.
When I was younger our family had pet rats. We probably went through at least ten over the course of the years. Started with the best rat of them all, Splinter, named for the best rat of them all, who thought of herself as a human essentially and expected to be treated like one. Ended with the saddest rat story ever, Tiny Tina, who upon arrival was the smallest but then swelled to gargantuan sizes due to the large tumors residing inside her. It was very sad to see a beloved pet uncomfortable, in pain, and generally living a poor quality of life.
In preparation for my future life doing whatever it is I will do, I became the "mother" to two new babies: Buffy and Annabel. Buffy is aptly named, as she terrorizes Annabel daily by pinning her in an attempt to groom her or maybe put a wood chip stake into her heart. And she has a blond hood, which makes the name more perfect. Annabel was supposed to be a feeder rat - so I basically saved her life from the jowls of death by snake - and therefore has taken quite some time to get used to human touch and not being skittish.
Now, rats are very good pets. They're loyal, they like affection, they take care of themselves during the day when you're gone, they're self-contained, I could go on. However, because it's been so long since I last had pet rats, perhaps my concept of them is off because I've forgotten what they do. For example, these two are extremely picky. They get the cream of the crop of food and they've ignored the fresh strawberries and get upset when the dish does not contain cilantro. They throw little rat tantrums when they go back to their cage after roaming around in the wild, which to me is called the office. They'll go berserk and run around their cage at lightening fast speed for no apparent reason - it's insanity. One minute they're happy as clams in their little world, and the next minute a neuron fires wrong and sends them on a ballistic romp up and down and up and down the rat ramp.
I'm also slightly terrified the Buffy is going to kill Annabel, or the reverse. Buffy usually instigates the attack, appearing to want to groom Annabel and then pinning herself on top of Annabel when she doesn't get her way. However, Annabel is a bit larger than Buffy, and though Buffy has the tenacity to fight back, Annabel has the strength and size in her favor. And Buffy is not as adventurous as Annabel. She refuses to leave my shoulder when given the opportunity to wander about and see what the house looks like. When she finally does climb down my arm to the carpeted floor, she moves in slow cautious movements, or she will follow Annabel. She's still small enough that she can stick everything up to her shoulders through a cage hole, but she always returns to her sleeping palace where Annabel awaits. Clearly, Annabel has assumed the role of matriarch.
I guess I'm getting used to having pet rats again. If you're thinking of getting a starter pet, I'd recommend them. They are pretty entertaining. And they're smart. Despite the fighting with these two - I'm starting to think it's racial because Buffy is a hooded rat and Annabel is a dumbo rat, and I don't know if maybe Buffy has developed a small rat complex - they've been grand. Hopefully they do stop fighting, though. It makes me nervous to leave the house. I always expect to see a still body laying in the bedding, while the other one sits on the top level of the cage, cowering in a corner, in complete terror of what she's done to her companion.
When I was younger our family had pet rats. We probably went through at least ten over the course of the years. Started with the best rat of them all, Splinter, named for the best rat of them all, who thought of herself as a human essentially and expected to be treated like one. Ended with the saddest rat story ever, Tiny Tina, who upon arrival was the smallest but then swelled to gargantuan sizes due to the large tumors residing inside her. It was very sad to see a beloved pet uncomfortable, in pain, and generally living a poor quality of life.
In preparation for my future life doing whatever it is I will do, I became the "mother" to two new babies: Buffy and Annabel. Buffy is aptly named, as she terrorizes Annabel daily by pinning her in an attempt to groom her or maybe put a wood chip stake into her heart. And she has a blond hood, which makes the name more perfect. Annabel was supposed to be a feeder rat - so I basically saved her life from the jowls of death by snake - and therefore has taken quite some time to get used to human touch and not being skittish.
Now, rats are very good pets. They're loyal, they like affection, they take care of themselves during the day when you're gone, they're self-contained, I could go on. However, because it's been so long since I last had pet rats, perhaps my concept of them is off because I've forgotten what they do. For example, these two are extremely picky. They get the cream of the crop of food and they've ignored the fresh strawberries and get upset when the dish does not contain cilantro. They throw little rat tantrums when they go back to their cage after roaming around in the wild, which to me is called the office. They'll go berserk and run around their cage at lightening fast speed for no apparent reason - it's insanity. One minute they're happy as clams in their little world, and the next minute a neuron fires wrong and sends them on a ballistic romp up and down and up and down the rat ramp.
I'm also slightly terrified the Buffy is going to kill Annabel, or the reverse. Buffy usually instigates the attack, appearing to want to groom Annabel and then pinning herself on top of Annabel when she doesn't get her way. However, Annabel is a bit larger than Buffy, and though Buffy has the tenacity to fight back, Annabel has the strength and size in her favor. And Buffy is not as adventurous as Annabel. She refuses to leave my shoulder when given the opportunity to wander about and see what the house looks like. When she finally does climb down my arm to the carpeted floor, she moves in slow cautious movements, or she will follow Annabel. She's still small enough that she can stick everything up to her shoulders through a cage hole, but she always returns to her sleeping palace where Annabel awaits. Clearly, Annabel has assumed the role of matriarch.
I guess I'm getting used to having pet rats again. If you're thinking of getting a starter pet, I'd recommend them. They are pretty entertaining. And they're smart. Despite the fighting with these two - I'm starting to think it's racial because Buffy is a hooded rat and Annabel is a dumbo rat, and I don't know if maybe Buffy has developed a small rat complex - they've been grand. Hopefully they do stop fighting, though. It makes me nervous to leave the house. I always expect to see a still body laying in the bedding, while the other one sits on the top level of the cage, cowering in a corner, in complete terror of what she's done to her companion.
Friday, July 3, 2009
Here's a quickie
Just to get you familiar with who I am. According to most of my friends, family, and random acquaintances, I'm a strange girl. Normal on the outside, but a weird personality (I like to think of myself as quirky). I think weird is good. Perhaps unusual is a better descriptor of what I am. Yes, I'm unusual.
I'm not sure how much I'll write in this blog. I'm hoping to pick it up again. There will be random topics. I will probably end up blogging to myself because I highly doubt anyone will read. If you do read, I apologize for the random topics ahead of time.
And because I tend to ramble, my quickie blogs will not be very quick; at least, probably won't be.
I'm not sure how much I'll write in this blog. I'm hoping to pick it up again. There will be random topics. I will probably end up blogging to myself because I highly doubt anyone will read. If you do read, I apologize for the random topics ahead of time.
And because I tend to ramble, my quickie blogs will not be very quick; at least, probably won't be.
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