... or knit or do anything where the outcome would be a comfy blanket, scarf, or (and this is what I really want) legwarmers. I really really want to learn but the tutorials on the web are kinda confusing (not that I've really looked that hard or actually attempted to do it, I don't even have the proper equipment). Someone teach me, please??
Saturday, October 22, 2005
Elizabethtown
I've never seen this movie, and I never will. But every time I see the preview, it makes me want to catch a plane to wherever Orlando Bloom and Kirsten Dunst are right now, and give them both a good smack. "No! Bad Movie!"
These two should be capable of more than a stupid, gushy, obscure love story. Give me a break.
These two should be capable of more than a stupid, gushy, obscure love story. Give me a break.
Friday, October 21, 2005
Pity Party
I was talking to Leen earlier today and she told me that she had recently caught up on my blogs, and it looked pretty depressing. I told her with the day that I was having, I had better stay away from writing anything, cause man it was a bad day. But here I am, smack in the middle of a pity party for myself, and I'm going to lay it all out for you.
The day started out normally enough, Isa and I went to a late lunch before heading out to study. Unfortunately, when we left the diner, I noticed that one of my tires was completely flat. Well, I can change a tire but I'm not very good at it, so I decided to ride with Isa to study and get Jacob or Brad to change it when they got home from work.
By this time, I was starting to feel pretty shitty. Since I got my first car at 16 (a lovely 1983 S-10 with holes in the floorboard, thank you) straight up until this very day, I have had nothing but a long slew of automobile problems. This flat tire, along with my mechanic telling me I need a new starter, and the weird noises that it makes all the time, all added up to make me have a near Sunfire-induced heart attack. I have neither time nor money for any of this.
There I was at Rendez-Vous, mulling over my unfortunate situation, when my mother called. Sometimes she has this uncanny ability to make me feel good about myself. This was not one of those times. Suffice to say, the conversation ended with her hanging up on me, and me blinking tears away. I hate crying, rarely do it, and feel like a huge baby when I do.
So Brad got off work, changed my tire, of course the spare was flat... yadda yadda yadda... just more bullshit. Finally got the car back to my place and now, here I am, wallowing in my car hatred and brokeness, too depressed to study.
*sigh* Thanks for letting me get that off my chest. I will attempt something cheery for tomorrow.
The day started out normally enough, Isa and I went to a late lunch before heading out to study. Unfortunately, when we left the diner, I noticed that one of my tires was completely flat. Well, I can change a tire but I'm not very good at it, so I decided to ride with Isa to study and get Jacob or Brad to change it when they got home from work.
By this time, I was starting to feel pretty shitty. Since I got my first car at 16 (a lovely 1983 S-10 with holes in the floorboard, thank you) straight up until this very day, I have had nothing but a long slew of automobile problems. This flat tire, along with my mechanic telling me I need a new starter, and the weird noises that it makes all the time, all added up to make me have a near Sunfire-induced heart attack. I have neither time nor money for any of this.
There I was at Rendez-Vous, mulling over my unfortunate situation, when my mother called. Sometimes she has this uncanny ability to make me feel good about myself. This was not one of those times. Suffice to say, the conversation ended with her hanging up on me, and me blinking tears away. I hate crying, rarely do it, and feel like a huge baby when I do.
So Brad got off work, changed my tire, of course the spare was flat... yadda yadda yadda... just more bullshit. Finally got the car back to my place and now, here I am, wallowing in my car hatred and brokeness, too depressed to study.
*sigh* Thanks for letting me get that off my chest. I will attempt something cheery for tomorrow.
Thursday, October 20, 2005
Joey Harrington Can Not Play QB
With only one decent pass and a rediculous amount of shitty ones this past week, I am once again and as usual totally fed up with Joey. Looks like Garcia may play this weekend and it will be a damn good thing if that happens.
I'm hungover, tired, and I need to study so I'm going to stop thinking about how much I absolutely can not stand Joey right now and just say that I think it's time for him to switch to baseball.
I'm hungover, tired, and I need to study so I'm going to stop thinking about how much I absolutely can not stand Joey right now and just say that I think it's time for him to switch to baseball.
Saturday, October 15, 2005
Self Censorship
Lately I've been having issues with this whole blogging thing, I mean, most of you know that I toss around the idea of scrapping the whole project entirely pretty regularly, but this is a somewhat seperate matter. Ultimately, I use blogging as a sort of release similar to journaling, which I've done since I was a kid (still have all of them too, now that is an amusing, embarrasing display). The problem is, I censor myself fairly regularly on this thing. I can't be sure who is reading and who is not. There is no telling who might stumble on my site and realize that they know me and the people I am talking about.
I mean, if I were to say: Last night I went out to Old Town and got completely hammered, then took five of my close friends home for an orgy, after which I ruthlessly kicked them all out on the street at 5 am... well some people may not approve. Although my mother really has no idea even what a blog is, I have a certian amount of paranoia that she will someday stumble across my writing. And since I am not one of the many anonymous bloggers out there (KTC has been a nickname for years and anyone who knows me knows that) I would certainly be screwed.
Also, I know that I have a few loyal readers out there, but there are also a few lurkers, and who can know who they are?? Someone who stumbled upon the blog but knows who I am? Flocks of ex boyfriends that I might want to bitch about? A professor who my good grades rely on? I know, I think about this too much. I shouldn't care, I should be able to say exactly what I am feeling, but I can't. My fingers just won't push the buttons.
And wouldn't the blog be a lot more interesting for you if I could just say what I want to say rather than the normal, "dang I am so busy with school and I just am drowning"? By faithfully reading my ramblings, you should be rewarded by a good juicy story every once in awhile. Also, I probably owe it to myself to disclose my life events honestly. Where is the personal release when I write about shit that doesn't even mean anything? I feel as though I should bust through my self censorship and go all out. I'll work on it.
I mean, if I were to say: Last night I went out to Old Town and got completely hammered, then took five of my close friends home for an orgy, after which I ruthlessly kicked them all out on the street at 5 am... well some people may not approve. Although my mother really has no idea even what a blog is, I have a certian amount of paranoia that she will someday stumble across my writing. And since I am not one of the many anonymous bloggers out there (KTC has been a nickname for years and anyone who knows me knows that) I would certainly be screwed.
Also, I know that I have a few loyal readers out there, but there are also a few lurkers, and who can know who they are?? Someone who stumbled upon the blog but knows who I am? Flocks of ex boyfriends that I might want to bitch about? A professor who my good grades rely on? I know, I think about this too much. I shouldn't care, I should be able to say exactly what I am feeling, but I can't. My fingers just won't push the buttons.
And wouldn't the blog be a lot more interesting for you if I could just say what I want to say rather than the normal, "dang I am so busy with school and I just am drowning"? By faithfully reading my ramblings, you should be rewarded by a good juicy story every once in awhile. Also, I probably owe it to myself to disclose my life events honestly. Where is the personal release when I write about shit that doesn't even mean anything? I feel as though I should bust through my self censorship and go all out. I'll work on it.
Thursday, October 13, 2005
Fall Break
It's my first day of fall break and already I'm freaking out a little. I've got this list, this seemingly never ending long ass list of reading that needs to be done, papers that aren't going to write themselves, and oh yeah, a few mundane people things like an oil change and purchasing another keg bucket.
So much for a fall break! I'm going to try and cram cram cram this week, devoting myself to nothing that does not somehow relate to school so that I can be totally prepared... prepared for what? Well, let's just say, there may not be an end in sight yet, but there are rewards in sight, and I am looking forward to them. It's just a little too early to talk about it at this point. More on that later.
As for right now, as you lark about in the fall weather, raking the leaves up into a pile, jumping in, repeating.... just think of me cooped up inside surrounded by textboks, eyes bugging out from the laptop glare. The least you could do is order me a pizza, already.
So much for a fall break! I'm going to try and cram cram cram this week, devoting myself to nothing that does not somehow relate to school so that I can be totally prepared... prepared for what? Well, let's just say, there may not be an end in sight yet, but there are rewards in sight, and I am looking forward to them. It's just a little too early to talk about it at this point. More on that later.
As for right now, as you lark about in the fall weather, raking the leaves up into a pile, jumping in, repeating.... just think of me cooped up inside surrounded by textboks, eyes bugging out from the laptop glare. The least you could do is order me a pizza, already.
Thursday, October 06, 2005
Conspiracy Theory
Let me just describe where I'm at right now... Drowning in social policy theory, suffering through "Human Development, A Life Span View," and so familiar with getting up at 6 am that my body WILL NOT let me sleep past 8.
I have a presentation on Ypsilanti demographics due on Monday, that Life Span crap exam on Tuesday, and a research paper on Michigan Law 710.68 due on Wednesday. I think I'm drowning...
Besides that, I just met with my field instructor who will place me at an internship later this month, and she basically told me that she has no idea what positions are open for the winter, let alone if I will get the position that I want. Lovely.
At this point, I am completely convinced that all of my professors (and others who hold influence over my academic career) hold a weekly secret meeting to decide exactly how to make my life difficult. Yes, it's grad school, yes, I know, it's supposed to be hard. But, dang!
You know I don't have anything due the week after next because that just makes it more frustrating. I can look at the black and blue ink that leaves virtually no white space on my calendar for this upcoming week, and stare at the blankness for the week after with the desperate longing for a time that will never come.
Only 15 more months to go. I'm hanging on.
I have a presentation on Ypsilanti demographics due on Monday, that Life Span crap exam on Tuesday, and a research paper on Michigan Law 710.68 due on Wednesday. I think I'm drowning...
Besides that, I just met with my field instructor who will place me at an internship later this month, and she basically told me that she has no idea what positions are open for the winter, let alone if I will get the position that I want. Lovely.
At this point, I am completely convinced that all of my professors (and others who hold influence over my academic career) hold a weekly secret meeting to decide exactly how to make my life difficult. Yes, it's grad school, yes, I know, it's supposed to be hard. But, dang!
You know I don't have anything due the week after next because that just makes it more frustrating. I can look at the black and blue ink that leaves virtually no white space on my calendar for this upcoming week, and stare at the blankness for the week after with the desperate longing for a time that will never come.
Only 15 more months to go. I'm hanging on.
Monday, October 03, 2005
Sometimes I Wonder...
Actual conversation heard outside of the University of Michigan School of Social Work:
Student 1: So the ones that run around here all the time, they're chipmunks?
Student 2: No, they're squirrels, chipmunks are smaller.
Now I would have totally understood if there was even the slightest detection of an accent from either student, because language/word clarification would have been an obvious reason for the question. But if you're from the US, who doesn't know the difference between a chipmunk and a squirrel? Am I wrong to be appalled here?
Student 1: So the ones that run around here all the time, they're chipmunks?
Student 2: No, they're squirrels, chipmunks are smaller.
Now I would have totally understood if there was even the slightest detection of an accent from either student, because language/word clarification would have been an obvious reason for the question. But if you're from the US, who doesn't know the difference between a chipmunk and a squirrel? Am I wrong to be appalled here?
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
I Find Harry Potter Creepy
Yeah, that's right... little wizard boy has me all skeeved out. Harry Potter was bad enough in the beginning, when dorks way too old to be reading young adult literature flocked all night bookstores everywhere just to get one of the first edition copies. But now! Now, it seems like there is another movie coming out every other second.
I realize the objective of Hollywood, to make enough big budget money making movies as they can before the kid is too old (which, let's admit it, he is already) to play the young Harry. But it is getting to be too much for me. I can not stand the insanity.
I realize that some of you reading this are fans, and you would say, "How would you know? You've never read any of the books/ seen any of the movies." I understand your semi-valid point, but this is my blog, and I hate Harry Potter. And you should too.
I realize the objective of Hollywood, to make enough big budget money making movies as they can before the kid is too old (which, let's admit it, he is already) to play the young Harry. But it is getting to be too much for me. I can not stand the insanity.
I realize that some of you reading this are fans, and you would say, "How would you know? You've never read any of the books/ seen any of the movies." I understand your semi-valid point, but this is my blog, and I hate Harry Potter. And you should too.
Monday, September 26, 2005
How Do You Live With Yourselves?!?
So I'm back at Rendes-Vous (surprise surprise) for my break between classes and someone, somehow, has found the five people with the most annoying laughs in all of Ann Arbor and placed them directly to my left. And man, are they living it up. Everything is a knee-slapper. This one guy just said, "You know those one-size-fits-all hats? My head is so big it won't even fit in there!" And the table exploded. Like it was the funniest thing they've ever heard. These people must get out more. Maybe watch some South Park or Family Guy, find out that humor is a distinct quality that doesn't exist in each and every sentence that is uttered.
Perhaps they should also think about the fifteen other people that are up here, attempting to study and giving them dirty looks at every hilarious outburst. Oh my goodness, they are leaving. Thank GOD! Now maybe I can use my last fifteen minutes to get something accomplished. New Rule: No laughing in Rendes-Vous. This is a serious establishment. Homework is not funny. Go to Improv Inferno, for goodness sake.
Perhaps they should also think about the fifteen other people that are up here, attempting to study and giving them dirty looks at every hilarious outburst. Oh my goodness, they are leaving. Thank GOD! Now maybe I can use my last fifteen minutes to get something accomplished. New Rule: No laughing in Rendes-Vous. This is a serious establishment. Homework is not funny. Go to Improv Inferno, for goodness sake.
Friday, September 23, 2005
Joey, Joey, Joey...
I have to say that I am feeling a little better right now than the few days directly following the debacle that was the Lions Bears game this past Sunday. What a joke. Joey made a complete fool of himself and his team, totally proving that I have been right about him all along. Unfortunately Garcia is unable to patch his mistakes and we are stuck with him or Orlovsky, a lowly rookie. However, I say throw in the rookie, we have virtually nothing to lose.
Luckily, it is a bye week and Garcia can rest while Joey could perhaps, I dunno, learn to throw a football? Plus I can get some homework done on Sunday rather than wasting the day away in front of the boob tube, drinking beer, and ordering delivery food (mostly Chinese). But really, who am I kidding? There is still football, and what is an Autumn Sunday without watching football? A waste, that's what. A total waste.
I included this picture of Joey getting sacked not just to reiterate the fact that he sucks royally, but also because I find it funny. And when you find yourself laughing everytime your QB gets sacked because you hate him so much, it's time to get a new one. Otherwise, it's a complete conflict of interest. Oh, I'm so torn!
Luckily, it is a bye week and Garcia can rest while Joey could perhaps, I dunno, learn to throw a football? Plus I can get some homework done on Sunday rather than wasting the day away in front of the boob tube, drinking beer, and ordering delivery food (mostly Chinese). But really, who am I kidding? There is still football, and what is an Autumn Sunday without watching football? A waste, that's what. A total waste.
I included this picture of Joey getting sacked not just to reiterate the fact that he sucks royally, but also because I find it funny. And when you find yourself laughing everytime your QB gets sacked because you hate him so much, it's time to get a new one. Otherwise, it's a complete conflict of interest. Oh, I'm so torn!
Friday, September 09, 2005
All Messed Up
Man, school is seriously messing with my internal time clock. I've been waking up around 6 am every day to go to school, but I only have class Monday through Wednesday until I get my field placement (basically an internship) in January, so realistically at this point, I could sleep in for the rest of the mornings in the week. But something in my brain doesn't think that I should. Luckily I can usually force myself back to sleep, but then I wake up every hour or so and repeat the process until I finally drag myself out of bed to sit in front of this here timewasting computer.
And I have homework to do... I haven't had homework in awhile, and certainly not crap like this, these hundreds of pages about fun stuff like welfare policy, societal privilege, and social work in a postmodernist view that must be read and comprehended by Monday. Eek.
Also, in a quite embarrasing display while studing at Rendez-Vous yesterday, I tripped over a plank in the balcony and fell, right in front of a few people. Luckily (or so I thought at the time) I caught myself with both arms so I didn't smash my face, but right now the muscles in my upper arms/shoulders are absolutely killing me and I'm wondering if a smashed face wouldn't be better. I think I may need a lawyer.
On I slightly more positive note, I'm headed out to my dad's country palace in Ortonville this evening, totally avoiding the complete craziness that will surround this town for the UM v. Notre Dame game tomorrow. I plan to relax. And do homework. Grr.
And I have homework to do... I haven't had homework in awhile, and certainly not crap like this, these hundreds of pages about fun stuff like welfare policy, societal privilege, and social work in a postmodernist view that must be read and comprehended by Monday. Eek.
Also, in a quite embarrasing display while studing at Rendez-Vous yesterday, I tripped over a plank in the balcony and fell, right in front of a few people. Luckily (or so I thought at the time) I caught myself with both arms so I didn't smash my face, but right now the muscles in my upper arms/shoulders are absolutely killing me and I'm wondering if a smashed face wouldn't be better. I think I may need a lawyer.
On I slightly more positive note, I'm headed out to my dad's country palace in Ortonville this evening, totally avoiding the complete craziness that will surround this town for the UM v. Notre Dame game tomorrow. I plan to relax. And do homework. Grr.
Monday, September 05, 2005
Farewell, Employment (Part 5)
I am reluctant to continue this employment series, especially when it comes to talking about Good Time Charley's. The looming campus bar still plays a more major part in my life than I would like to admit. I've decided to discuss it, as briefly as I can, but I'm thinking this will be the last post on the employment subject for now. It is difficult to reflect on such recent jobs as Grizzly Peak and HelpSource when their impact is still current.
Anyway. Charleys. Chucks. GTC. My life changed forever when I walked in the door for the first time. I was interviewed and hired on the spot (this lackadaisical hiring practice would haunt me for years while I trained people who had zero qualifications), and I later became Head Server and made tons and tons of money which I have since spent on beer and pizza. All of this is inconsequential.
I started to get to know some really crazy people who worked at Charley's, most of them bartenders at the time. I started to party with them a little. It was pretty fun, so I started partying with them a lot. Every night. All previous friendships and other relationships were destroyed by this new, exciting life of alcohol and... other things.
(Let us pause here to say: I have many, many photo albums filled with pictures of those drunken nights. Friends going into politics will be blackmailed.)
If not for the remaining companionship of many of the people who I met through Charley's, I might be bitter about how much it weaved and shaped my life from that fateful hiring date (I might be a little bitter anyway, but it's not too bad). Thank goodness that Charley's delivered some of the most precious people in my life to me. For that reason, I am eternally grateful.
It's also still pretty sweet to chill in one of Ann Arbor's best outdoor cafes and see who can drink the most of those massive long islands. Mmmm.... long islands...
I'll be at Charley's.
Anyway. Charleys. Chucks. GTC. My life changed forever when I walked in the door for the first time. I was interviewed and hired on the spot (this lackadaisical hiring practice would haunt me for years while I trained people who had zero qualifications), and I later became Head Server and made tons and tons of money which I have since spent on beer and pizza. All of this is inconsequential.
I started to get to know some really crazy people who worked at Charley's, most of them bartenders at the time. I started to party with them a little. It was pretty fun, so I started partying with them a lot. Every night. All previous friendships and other relationships were destroyed by this new, exciting life of alcohol and... other things.
(Let us pause here to say: I have many, many photo albums filled with pictures of those drunken nights. Friends going into politics will be blackmailed.)
If not for the remaining companionship of many of the people who I met through Charley's, I might be bitter about how much it weaved and shaped my life from that fateful hiring date (I might be a little bitter anyway, but it's not too bad). Thank goodness that Charley's delivered some of the most precious people in my life to me. For that reason, I am eternally grateful.
It's also still pretty sweet to chill in one of Ann Arbor's best outdoor cafes and see who can drink the most of those massive long islands. Mmmm.... long islands...
I'll be at Charley's.
Friday, September 02, 2005
Farewell, Employment! (Part 4)
It feels very weird to look back and think about my first serving job. When I started at Hector and Jimmy's in Milford, MI in 1999, I would have never thought that it would be the first in a string of restaurants that would pay my way through college, provide a non-stop pool of friends (oh and quite a few people who pissed me off through the years), and basically teach me responsibility through the hazy goggles of way too much partying.
I remember quite a few choice things about Hector and Jimmy's: I dropped a huge tray of food on my first day, I had a huge crush on a bartender (his name, Chris, I think?), and tables would demand "ranch and rolls" almost as soon as I would greet them. Admittedly, the ranch and rolls were killer. Southwestern Chicken Salad was awesome too, I'm pretty sure that's what it was called. And Jimmy was pretty crazy, with an affinity for young teenage girls and psycho about whether or not there was anough ketchup gone from the bottle to throw it away. No one ever saw Hector, I really have no idea what his deal was.
I don't even know if this place is still standing (the website has been removed and this tiny tiny picture was the only one I could find on the web), but I think I am going to go check it out this week. I feel a craving for some ranch and rolls coming on.
I remember quite a few choice things about Hector and Jimmy's: I dropped a huge tray of food on my first day, I had a huge crush on a bartender (his name, Chris, I think?), and tables would demand "ranch and rolls" almost as soon as I would greet them. Admittedly, the ranch and rolls were killer. Southwestern Chicken Salad was awesome too, I'm pretty sure that's what it was called. And Jimmy was pretty crazy, with an affinity for young teenage girls and psycho about whether or not there was anough ketchup gone from the bottle to throw it away. No one ever saw Hector, I really have no idea what his deal was.
I don't even know if this place is still standing (the website has been removed and this tiny tiny picture was the only one I could find on the web), but I think I am going to go check it out this week. I feel a craving for some ranch and rolls coming on.
Rock is off to DC!
My dear, dear friend Brooke (Rock) left the safe confines of Ann Arbor yesterday to pursue a professional career in Washington DC. I am going to miss her so much, which is why this event is categorized in Things Hated, but I have to say that I am incredibly proud of her accomplishments. I am also extremely excited to see what happens next in this girl's life. The possibilities are endless.
To me, Rock has always been that person that you can go talk to if you have a question about politics, but DO NOT start a debate unless you want to be either a) immediately shot down by knowledge that exceeds your lowly brain function or b) involved in a long conversation that could go anywhere; Rock loves a good political discussion.
It makes me feel really pleased that I can watch my friends grow, set their sights high, and depart on the road to success. It's also good for me, cause a girl's got to keep up (yes, motivation comes from having really really smart friends)! Good luck, Rock, I love you and have complete faith that you will do exceedingly well in our nation's capitol!
To me, Rock has always been that person that you can go talk to if you have a question about politics, but DO NOT start a debate unless you want to be either a) immediately shot down by knowledge that exceeds your lowly brain function or b) involved in a long conversation that could go anywhere; Rock loves a good political discussion.
It makes me feel really pleased that I can watch my friends grow, set their sights high, and depart on the road to success. It's also good for me, cause a girl's got to keep up (yes, motivation comes from having really really smart friends)! Good luck, Rock, I love you and have complete faith that you will do exceedingly well in our nation's capitol!
Friday, August 26, 2005
Farewell, Employment! (Part 3)
Ah, my days at the Mobil station!
I got this job when I was 18 years old, because I figured that all you had to do to be a gas station attendant was sit there. I was mostly right. What I didn't know was that my job duties would also include explaining many times daily that I personally had nothing to do with rising gas prices, I had no control over the fact that we were out of Marlboro Lights, and I really had no idea why the crazy guy who works the midnight shift closed the store for two hours last night.
And the midnight guy really was super deranged. He was this weird goth dude who was in some sort of emo/heavy metal band (I really have no idea, I listened to one song ever maybe, and had to stop. It was painful.) Because we were so often out of cigarettes, customers would get really confrontational sometimes, and this guy would just pull out a baseball bat from under the counter and threaten them. It was funny for some reasons (Camp Dearbornites coming in from down the street needed to be threatened) but most of the time it was just really frightening.
I worked most of my shifts at Mobil with this cute 16 year old girl named Collette. She and I were both young and attractive, so naturally, all the creepy older guys from town would come "to grab some coffee" and then stand around and try to talk to us for a half hour or more. Disgusting. On the other hand, I had all of my friends come visit me at work for free coffee and slurpees, and they would stay and chat with me for hours. I got in trouble quite a few times for that after my bosses watched the security tapes.
Luckily, when I was working at Mobil, gas was only $1.50 a gallon. Even then, people were pissed. And they would get pissed at me like I had some sort of control over the situation. I can only imagine the hell that todays attendants go through. Don't yell at these people! Don't even discuss it. They know it's expensive. They work there and see it all day long. They don't need to hear it from you, now grab your Krispy Kreme and get out!
I got this job when I was 18 years old, because I figured that all you had to do to be a gas station attendant was sit there. I was mostly right. What I didn't know was that my job duties would also include explaining many times daily that I personally had nothing to do with rising gas prices, I had no control over the fact that we were out of Marlboro Lights, and I really had no idea why the crazy guy who works the midnight shift closed the store for two hours last night.
And the midnight guy really was super deranged. He was this weird goth dude who was in some sort of emo/heavy metal band (I really have no idea, I listened to one song ever maybe, and had to stop. It was painful.) Because we were so often out of cigarettes, customers would get really confrontational sometimes, and this guy would just pull out a baseball bat from under the counter and threaten them. It was funny for some reasons (Camp Dearbornites coming in from down the street needed to be threatened) but most of the time it was just really frightening.
I worked most of my shifts at Mobil with this cute 16 year old girl named Collette. She and I were both young and attractive, so naturally, all the creepy older guys from town would come "to grab some coffee" and then stand around and try to talk to us for a half hour or more. Disgusting. On the other hand, I had all of my friends come visit me at work for free coffee and slurpees, and they would stay and chat with me for hours. I got in trouble quite a few times for that after my bosses watched the security tapes.
Luckily, when I was working at Mobil, gas was only $1.50 a gallon. Even then, people were pissed. And they would get pissed at me like I had some sort of control over the situation. I can only imagine the hell that todays attendants go through. Don't yell at these people! Don't even discuss it. They know it's expensive. They work there and see it all day long. They don't need to hear it from you, now grab your Krispy Kreme and get out!
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
My Life is Random
The other day I was driving home from work. It was really hot outside and since the a/c in my car doesn't work I had the windows rolled down and was enjoying a slight breeze. I stopped at a stop sign, like you do, when all of the sudden I saw a figure out of the corner of my eye and something pelted me HARD in the side of my head. It felt like a bottle or something, and my head immediately began throbbing.
While I was attempting to figure out what had just happened, I started driving again, looked in my rearview mirror, and saw this big guy all nonchalantly crossing the street behind me. I desperately wanted to stop the car, jump out, and ask him what the hell?? But I was alone and really didn't know what this person was capable of.
As I was driving away, still seriously not able to process the last 45 seconds of my life, I realized that whatever had hit me had not been knocked into the back seat as I had thought. "It" was wedged between my back and the seat back. I pulled it out. An orange bic lighter. I couldn't believe something so small had hurt so bad (my head hurt for hours) but I guess the guy had been pretty close to me when the lighter attack occurred.
I wish I knew what had inspired this person to be so violent towards me. Girl problems? Mental illness? Or did I one day personally piss him off? I will probably never know.
While I was attempting to figure out what had just happened, I started driving again, looked in my rearview mirror, and saw this big guy all nonchalantly crossing the street behind me. I desperately wanted to stop the car, jump out, and ask him what the hell?? But I was alone and really didn't know what this person was capable of.
As I was driving away, still seriously not able to process the last 45 seconds of my life, I realized that whatever had hit me had not been knocked into the back seat as I had thought. "It" was wedged between my back and the seat back. I pulled it out. An orange bic lighter. I couldn't believe something so small had hurt so bad (my head hurt for hours) but I guess the guy had been pretty close to me when the lighter attack occurred.
I wish I knew what had inspired this person to be so violent towards me. Girl problems? Mental illness? Or did I one day personally piss him off? I will probably never know.
Sunday, August 21, 2005
Farewell, Employment! (Part Two)
First of all, I must apologize in advance for the lack of interesting drivel that might follow in days to come. I have come to realize over the last few evenings that the next two weeks of my life are going to be crazy. Not because I have a ton to do, but because I have relatively NOTHING to do. And Leen just got into town. And Brooke is leaving for DC. And I'm bored, ready to cause some trouble, and act like I'm 20 years old again. Here we go!
But, on to today's actual post:
My second job ever was at Kroger. I don't remember much of what I was actually supposed to be doing, besides putting price tags on things and stocking shelves. I was a "stock girl"? Or something like that. Oh, how I hated it. It was mind-numbingly monotonous. I'm fairly certain that I had gotten the job because my boyfriend had worked there but he quit right before I started... or something. As you can see, my days at Kroger are all a little hazy. Probably because those days were very short numbered. It was the only job that I quit without giving the proper two weeks notice, and I don't really regret never showing up to Kroger to work again.
So there.
But, on to today's actual post:
My second job ever was at Kroger. I don't remember much of what I was actually supposed to be doing, besides putting price tags on things and stocking shelves. I was a "stock girl"? Or something like that. Oh, how I hated it. It was mind-numbingly monotonous. I'm fairly certain that I had gotten the job because my boyfriend had worked there but he quit right before I started... or something. As you can see, my days at Kroger are all a little hazy. Probably because those days were very short numbered. It was the only job that I quit without giving the proper two weeks notice, and I don't really regret never showing up to Kroger to work again.
So there.
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
Farewell, Employment! (Part One)
In ten days, I will be unemployed for the first time in eight years. While I may still pick up shifts here and there, I will have no work schedule (and I have resolved not to work at all for at least the first month of graduate school). This is slightly creepy to me and I am not sure what to expect. Will I go insane for lack of bullshit? Or will I like it so much that I will never want to work again?
This "Farewell, Employment" mini series is designed to look back on all of the jobs that I have held since I was sixteen, each and every one of which I have despised in some way, if not many ways.
My first job was a bagger/cart girl at Meijer. I was 16 years old, and my best friend and I worked there together. The work wasn't so bad, by which I mean we usually just clowned around in the parking lot, attempting to seem as if we were doing something useful. The main reason that my job at Meijer is memorable, however, is because I fell head over heels for a cute Jehova's Witness boy who rather dug me as well. His mother worked there with him, and she wasn't quite as keen on my Christian-raised self hanging around her son all the time. So I was tortured by teenage lust mixed with those eerie flyers that the mother was always giving me. Eventually he and I decided it wasn't going to last and gave up. But those hilarious memories will be with me forever.
This "Farewell, Employment" mini series is designed to look back on all of the jobs that I have held since I was sixteen, each and every one of which I have despised in some way, if not many ways.
My first job was a bagger/cart girl at Meijer. I was 16 years old, and my best friend and I worked there together. The work wasn't so bad, by which I mean we usually just clowned around in the parking lot, attempting to seem as if we were doing something useful. The main reason that my job at Meijer is memorable, however, is because I fell head over heels for a cute Jehova's Witness boy who rather dug me as well. His mother worked there with him, and she wasn't quite as keen on my Christian-raised self hanging around her son all the time. So I was tortured by teenage lust mixed with those eerie flyers that the mother was always giving me. Eventually he and I decided it wasn't going to last and gave up. But those hilarious memories will be with me forever.
Monday, August 15, 2005
Peoria Alive, Indeed!
I must apologize for the lack of posts on the blogs lately, I have been pretty dang busy. In fact, I just minutes ago got back from the lovely city of Peoria, Illinois. I'm being sarcastic. Hello.
Why anyone would want to live in the freaking middle of nowhere*, I have no idea. The drive from here to there has got to be the worst part. I've been crusing through massive construction and more semi trucks than I have ever seen for the last 6 and a half hours and I really really need to shower. Peace.
(More posts to come soon, I have so many things to say right now. I promise.)
*Synonyms: boilerplate, common, commonplace, customary, everyday, fair, familiar, garden, garden-variety, general, humdrum, intermediate, mainstream, mediocre, medium, middling, moderate, nowhere, ordinary, passable, plastic, regular, run-of-the-mill, so-so, standard, tolerable, typical, undistinguished, unexceptional, usual, vanilla, white bread
Why anyone would want to live in the freaking middle of nowhere*, I have no idea. The drive from here to there has got to be the worst part. I've been crusing through massive construction and more semi trucks than I have ever seen for the last 6 and a half hours and I really really need to shower. Peace.
(More posts to come soon, I have so many things to say right now. I promise.)
*Synonyms: boilerplate, common, commonplace, customary, everyday, fair, familiar, garden, garden-variety, general, humdrum, intermediate, mainstream, mediocre, medium, middling, moderate, nowhere, ordinary, passable, plastic, regular, run-of-the-mill, so-so, standard, tolerable, typical, undistinguished, unexceptional, usual, vanilla, white bread
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