Journals
Wednesday,Apr 16 2008, 12:42:23 AMWill you give me back my dime?
Here I am again. Unmotivated, unsuccessful, unpublished, undesirable, uneducated, unmarketable, unemployed me.
I applied for at least 50 jobs online today. The only phone calls I got back were from the phone company who had to change my service for me because I can't afford frivolous things like Caller ID, some credit card collection agencies and my mother.
Sometimes the creditors even like to call my mother to in hopes of either finding me or driving my whole family (even more?) insane.
I even went as far as to send some applications in the mail (because I'm not snotty enough to dismiss potential employment from someone who doesn't even have an email address). One place had me fill out the paper application for each job again even though I've done this, and sent my resume / cover letter / transcript / references file to them in bulk this year. So there I was, printing out a paper application that I got online, mind you, from a higher educational system at that, and had to hand write all my information out, then write the job codes in pencil, scan and fax each page (a long distance call by the way...the phone company pointed that out when I swore to them that I just needed local phone service.) Then I had to erase the job code, write the new one, scan and fax again. I did this for about 5 jobs. Then there were the online applications that only by the grace of God and modern technology allowed me to "quick apply" for each one that said anything about "receptionist" and "Orlando".
In some ways it was a productive day. Don't they say that the hardest job is finding a job? And they probably said that before the wonders of online resume building.
And how do I stay so positive, you may ask? Well, I have finally figured out that all this time, as cliche as it sounds, chocolate and soap operas does make a girl feel good. Granted I had reduced fat Oreo cookies (4 a day) and watch The Tudors but all in all, it's something that just helps make the emotional wishy-washy stuff melt away.
And actually it's helped my weight too. I don't eat much as far as nutrition goes, but I stay very satisfied with milk and cookies and an occasional peanut butter sandwich (reduced fat on low calorie bread, of course) makes the cravings for "bad things" not so apparently at midnight when I'm trying to get myself to sleep. I've also noticed that the old fun of chronic heartburn decides to come back early in the morning when I haven't eaten anything for twelve hours. I swear, that alone made me have nightmares about being at my old job. Last night I pictures myself at a desk, having to fill out an application saying I'd willingly give it another year as a teacher with my administration all looking down on me in glee to have me as a torture victim again. The English Renaissance could have included that mental abuse in their attempts at punishment and confession. {shudder}
Anyway, it's freaking freezing outside as my fellow Floridians know. It's 61 out and I have the heater running, soup in my belly and flannel penguin pajamas on. Weren't we getting excited for Spring last week?
And, I still have work to do, what's new? If any kind of effort produced a mild hint of progress, I think I'd be way more into writing again. For now, everything just sits here, untyped, unsubmitted, unedited or unfinished. I recall a time, some months ago, when I worked a lot. I'm trying to get back into the full swing of working constantly but a million voided hours does not equal a million reasons to keep trying. (Unfortunately.)
I did, however, take thirty minutes to write an ode to all the crazy guys I've ever had in my life. I didn't realize it before, but most of the guys I'm into are 5'11" to 6'3". And I always said that size didn't matter. Hhmm... I sent my "Crazy Guy Timeline" in an email to Laura per our "men who are losing their hair should just go ahead and shave it" conversation. Yup, I enjoy being a girl.
http://www.deloresdefacto.com/?p=81
Friday,Apr 11 2008, 05:39:26 AMIt's worth the work it takes to build a dream
So for the next episode in the sitcom that is my life...
I went to my parents' for dinner because they promised to greet me with pizza. I had a small one to myself and I ate the whole thing. That, some fat free chips and a cup of apple sauce was all I had today so I'm not guilty for eating so much. It was good and it was worth every single calorie and fat gram I ingested from each slice.
I sat around and helped Dad set up his new scanner and then decided to take a trip to a couple of stores just to walk off some of my dinner. After walking through Staples for a while and getting irritated that the only wide rule, hard cover notebook they had was $5 (Why does everyone want college ruled anymore? It's so...Limiting.) I then decided to go to Target.
I look through the clothes for a while and hear a girl yelling at her boyfriend. "Oh you want me to lower my voice? You don't want me to make an f-ing scene? Well I'll make an f-ing scene if you're going to f-ing talk to me like that..." Blah, blah, blah. And I didn't look up to see what the couple looked like but from the girl's words and actions, I guessed she was some 20 something twit who had no idea how to act in public or how to keep a guy's pride in tact. (When they act like an ass, either let it go or wait until you're in private, then let him have it.) Now, mind you this was 8:30 at night, so there were plenty of people in the store to hear this crap and Lord knows that girl wanted all of the negative attention that she could get.
After getting an earful of that, I listen to a dad, whose son has asked him "Why can't I have this toy?", reply to his kid with, "Because I'm the ruler of your life and I always will be and don't you forget it." I hear some guy mocking his girlfriend's choice in clothes and I think to myself, "Dear Lord, this is why I don't want to get married..."
However, I wander through the shoes, then the media section and find Jack White on the cover of Rolling Stone and all hope is restored. (Jack White equals a gold star day.) So I'm looking at the magazine, minding my own affair, and the stupid girl who was fighting with her boyfriend ten minutes earlier is on her cell phone, talking at the top of her lungs to one of her friends, while she stands in the aisle, breaking my concentration. She says in the phone the following:
"I was going to break up with him two weeks ago and I should have and now he's going to f-ing dump me after my f-ing husband just died!" (I was guessing a prison brawl or an over-dose.) "How can he f-ing treat someone like that in public? I've done some bad things but I at least f-ing care about people. It's karma. He'll get exactly what he f-ing deserves. I'm going to wear my party dress and paint the town red and he'll f-ing see what he missed out on..."
And here comes the best part. For those of you who don't know, one of the stadiums where they do Spring Training for Major League Baseball is around here.
"I can't believe I gave up a night hanging out with the pitcher for The Nationals to hang out with a guy who dumped me...I know he's not good looking but I should give him a shot. I always date rock star, loser guys. Like, oh you have a job and a car, sorry can't help you. But the pitcher will be in town for another few weeks because he lives in Washington...""
When I called Fran to recount this story to her, we laughed about this part hysterically. I looked at the girl a few times and she wasn't anything more than some white trash girl who would some day end up auditioning for a part on Rock of Love. Whatever delusions that girl was under, I seriously hope she seeks help and soon.
Oh yeah, she also mentioned to her friend that she was going to "go home to my kid, read my book and remember who I am." Uh huh. Good luck with that one. I can't even imagine being that crazy. At least that guy dumped her when he did. As Fran said, "I would have left her at Target too!"
But at least this made my evening a bit interesting. I've still had the stiff neck and the lack of motivation to get my work done. At least today, making myself ditch the nap for a shower and venture around town proved worthy. Now I have an amusing story, a full belly, a visit with my parents (that didn't drive me insane), a good conversation with my friend, a magazine to entertain me (too bad I'm too much of a fuddy duddy now to cut the pics out and put on my fridge next to Jonathan Rhys Meyers and myself; we look good together) and some super cute bathroom decor. I ditched the black and white motif for the time being because they had a stack of the ever enticing clearance items. I bought a shower curtain that is white cotton with green sketches of bath items on it; duckies, toothbrushes, soaps, tubs, razors, etc. Then one each of the pastel hand towels that match, as well as the package of washcloths to complete the collection. All in all; approximately $5 and totally springtime appropriate.
I've been noticing lately, with the weather change, that I'm recalling the times of early spring when I was a kid. Isn't it funny how you can walk out into a warm, sunny morning and remember have the same feeling you did when stepping out onto the playground after lunch?
Speaking of which, yes, the title of the post is from a Jem and the Holograms song.
Photo credit: rborja
http://www.deloresdefacto.com/?p=80
Wednesday,Apr 9 2008, 11:48:41 PMPartner let me upgrade you
WP 2.5 and I have begun our new relationship. I wasn't going to bother upgrading for a while since I'd heard some really negative comments about the new version, but thanks to Shane, I went ahead and took on the modern way of blogging.
So far, so good. I'm with everyone else on the whole layout having an oddly large font scheme and the tabs not really being set up the way they should be (the way we're use to them being in the older versions). But it's okay. It's just different and I'm not use to how everything is set up.
I'm not too keen on all of the "write" post options being underneath the text box, nor do I like that I have to customize my editor toolbar.
Now, can anyone explain to me why my "Name" text jumps down a line for the comments, once the page loads? So annoying...
http://www.deloresdefacto.com/?p=79
Monday,Apr 7 2008, 10:16:07 PMI'm like a trash can holding all the information
I've been sick for a week and I have tons of work to do. I keep trying to sit here and type up all of my stories and the rest of the "novella" (if that's what we're calling it these days) but I have done nothing more than lie in bed, lie on the couch, take ibuprofen, Pamprin, asprin and apply various sports creams to my neck. (Asprin and Tiger Balm seem to be the only thing that's done some sort of miraculous ease.) My neck is stiff, I haven't felt "normal" or myself at all and every day I get up in the morning thinking I'm going to finally make some headway. Sadly, I've only scratched the surface on the list of stuff that needs to be pounded out on the computer. So I've emailed my professor, given him some of the work I've gotten done and am heading back to bed.
I'm guessing the stress of not working and the pain of not be able to work has become some vicious cycle. Does anyone else sit there and think they can logical reason with their mind that their body hasn't slumped into a pitiful slump for days on end? Too bad that I can't talk myself out of feeling bad so I can get all the words out and be done with the project for the time being. All of it is late and it makes the pain and the stress even worse; yet another vicious cycle.
I also wonder too, if I'm the only one who thinks there are only so many words that I am capable of conjuring and, thus, making my stories stagger in limitations. I feels as though I have a box of words that I can use and reuse so any difference in plot of theme is told the same. But I suppose that's the beauty of having a specific voice or a particular style or whatever it is that keeps us locked in our own personal limitations. Somehow having a "unique" voice isn't so dazzling when it can't extend beyond the corners and go to the places you want it to go.
Photo credit: deadeyebart
http://www.deloresdefacto.com/?p=78