Again with the up and down.
L's profile picture has her new gf on it. It doesn't hurt anymore, but it makes me kind of uncomfortable and irritated.
Di and I had a heart-to-heart in the parking lot at the gym tonight. He lost half of his Sunday shift due to our boss's concern for him (and our members), and we attempted to go to Best Buy and Barnes and Nobles but they were closed, so we went to Target instead. I'm being very careful on this one.
Fears of my own shift reduction were taken care of tonight.
I really like people at the gym.
Things have been a little tense around the dorm lately, but that might just be me. I'm not around often enough to care, at this point. I had time to do my laundry, and I'm cool with that.
We're cleaning up our language on our shift. Well, not really. But we are toning it down.
I GOT FREE HOUSING FOR THE SUMMER. in FEBRUARY. This is unheard of. It is my OWN PLACE. I may never leave.
Unless it is to go to Athens, which is apparently a Southern mini Portland. About twelve people bicycled past the Grit, which was eerily reminiscent of Paradox Cafe, in the hour and half we were there. The mass comm major at UGA is beginning to look appealing.
I've lost a bit of weight.
I no longer have enough time in the day to do everything, but I did discover that blowing off one's responsibilites for after-meeting cooldown is perfectly fine. Also, I only require seven hours of sleep, instead of my previously misconception of eight. Booyah.
I'm not really doing well on my friendship with Ra. Must fix.
Or De. Must also fix.
I require tattoos.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Friday, February 6, 2009
busy busy busy
It's been up and down lately. I'm working too much to keep everything in the air; I haven't been attending class like I should, but it's likely my grades won't suffer because of it. Our staff went to a journalism conference tonight and came back bursting with ideas. I'm tremendously excited and am so tired I can barely move. I have two papers, two articles, and a Core test this week, with a film journal due the week after that. I'm in bed at 9:54 on a Friday night and can't stop listening to Regina Specktor. I did nearly all of my dishes and laundry and put in my RA application. I can't seem to make it to the bank. I ate at The Grit for the first time and now understand the importance of the Golden Bowl.
Maybe soon I will live in hippie-Athens and find a partner and we will have dogs and enjoy slightly lower living costs. I will be in a three way relationship with her and my job.
I cannot stop watching West Wing, and I am a phone call and two hundred dollars away from swallows on my sternum.
Maybe soon I will live in hippie-Athens and find a partner and we will have dogs and enjoy slightly lower living costs. I will be in a three way relationship with her and my job.
I cannot stop watching West Wing, and I am a phone call and two hundred dollars away from swallows on my sternum.
Monday, February 2, 2009
By the time I graduate from college, I will have spent so many hours looking at housing on Craigslist and the billions of apartment websites that I could go into the industry and make a fuckin' mint.
I am wired, probably because of that. Dumbass self of mine.
In other news, I am working way too much, but I got to spend like eight whole hours today staring mindlessly into a television screen. I am cramping from my abdomen to my knees and Gr got pissed because I walked into her room when she wasn't there to borrow her West Wing--which I had already asked to borrow, set by the television, and she had scooped it up before I got through two of the episodes. I want to live by myself like nobody's business, but I have to ask Br, and I don't really want to do that on the first of February, but it looks like it's gonna roll that way. I want to live in the Darlington because I don't want any more roommates. I am tired of roommates. I understand why Mo spends so much in her room. My black dancing skeleton blanket smells like a stank ass. I want my own space.
I'm also a tad hormonal. My life has been great lately. But I am pissy and I apologize to the collective internet.
Nico and Neutral Milk Hotel make really great music and work flowed by so quickly I barely noticed Saturday and Sunday.
I am wired, probably because of that. Dumbass self of mine.
In other news, I am working way too much, but I got to spend like eight whole hours today staring mindlessly into a television screen. I am cramping from my abdomen to my knees and Gr got pissed because I walked into her room when she wasn't there to borrow her West Wing--which I had already asked to borrow, set by the television, and she had scooped it up before I got through two of the episodes. I want to live by myself like nobody's business, but I have to ask Br, and I don't really want to do that on the first of February, but it looks like it's gonna roll that way. I want to live in the Darlington because I don't want any more roommates. I am tired of roommates. I understand why Mo spends so much in her room. My black dancing skeleton blanket smells like a stank ass. I want my own space.
I'm also a tad hormonal. My life has been great lately. But I am pissy and I apologize to the collective internet.
Nico and Neutral Milk Hotel make really great music and work flowed by so quickly I barely noticed Saturday and Sunday.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
I love my jobs.
First, there's the gym. I have added quite a few hours from my normal Saturday 1-6pm shitick, but it's still pretty groovy. (After I start working 22 hours regularly, I will update, probably with some bitching.) The coworkers there, like at many jobs, pretty much make it. I work with Mer, a refugee from El Salvador and a transplant from Australia. She's been living here for seven years, legally, waiting for the legal system to make her an official citizen. She finally got her green card in the mail on Thursday night. Her husband of twenty-odd years came by with a slim Fed Ex envelope and pulled it out for her. She was so happy. Immediately, after looking at it in joy, she rushed off to the office so that she could have it photocopied. Mer has three kids--one daughter off at college, one 18-year-old she wishes would leave soon, and a teenage son. She appears to be a good mother, and we share stories of her feisty daughter at home and my 16-year-old sister, Mi. She is not my favorite person to work with, but that's just because I have a lot of awesome people from which to choose. Her back aches and I hear about it, but, to her credit, I do believe it is a genuine complaint. She is also rather conservative, and once told a coworker that she was suspicious of black and Hispanic guys checking out her ass all the time, so for the first few weeks at work, she work long coats. The black coworker and I stared at each other and laughed and called her a racist. I told her to watch out for white guys performing the same maneuver. Mer and I work together Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays from six to close.
Di has been there for three years and is accordingly burnt out. We sit at the desk on Saturdays with his laptop and portable speakers and blast obscene rap music. Sometimes we dance. He is a good dancer and I am not bad for a white girl from Memphis. He trained me when I took up the shift and we’ve been working it together for a year. Generally we are not overly concerned with being professional, but we get the job done, treat the members with respect (even the ones we want to physically harm), and don’t act like rampaging teenagers, unlike some of the other people with whom we have worked.
Di, without his fro, possibly makes it up to my cheekbones. He weighs about ninety pounds and wears baggy pants and long shirts to compensate. He is from Panama and has skin that could pass as white or Hispanic. He wears glasses and wants about 12 piercings and various tattoos. Recently we knocked that down to 11 by going to a tattoo parlor and procuring him his first piercing, in the cartilage of his left ear.
He’s got some intense emotional issues. From what I can tell, he’s been depressed since he was about fifteen years old. He is twenty-two now. He goes to a prestigious, notoriously difficult college in our area and it kicks his ass regularly, although I am fairly certain he is very intelligent. When he was a freshman, he lived in the dorm, but now he lives with his controlling mother and father, and I think some of his issues will continue until he moves out. I am passively encouraging this by periodically sending him Craigslist posts with affordable housing by his college, but I also think his mother would pitch a fucking fit if he ever tried to move out. He has a video game hobby that I am sure is quite expensive. He is a nerd with a capital N and wants to program video games one day.
Our history is one strictly of friendship, but I have harbored a slight crush on him since about the time I met him, and he has made it abundantly clear that he would date and/or sleep with me in a heartbeat. I am no longer certain if I am straight enough to sleep with a man, but if I were, he is cute but not my type. So we flirt occasionally and hang out and I am glad, because he seems generally happier and I am in need of friends who have never spent more than a few hours on my school's campus.
Mer, Di, and I also work with a bevy of trainers, almost all of whom I really like and have sometimes spent time with outside of work. The notable exception to that rule is Bry, who is The Asshole. Every workplace has one (or several); the one who works with us is Bry. We put up with him, but I recently confronted him about his assholery and now I think he is a little terrified of me. He flirts with almost every single woman with whom he comes into contact (and is, of course, neither single nor without parental obligations), and I surmised that he has a bit of an issue with women. He has a big issue with me because I am an assertive woman. So that's fun, but ultimately not a big issue, since we don't work in the same space, rarely at the same time, and I goof off during my shifts far less than he does.
So I like working at the gym, but I love working at the Writing Center at school. Currently I am on the clock. No one has shown up, nor is anyone likely to on a Sunday night the second week of school. We do indeed become busy, but not usually today. The lights are off and the sun is illuminating the room just right. It is very quiet. Ideal for doing homework, if I had any sort of inclination to do homework right now. Also it is a minute drive from my room, and about a five minute walk. Can't beat that.
But my absolute favorite is babysitting. I sat for four boys last night, all under six, and made $180. One day, if I ever become a lawyer, that might seem like chump change, but I am twenty years old and that is my car payment plus 86 cents. I really enjoy children, and I usually play with them instead of immediately parking them in front of the TV. I do dishes and I clean up and I'm patient and firm. I especially enjoy other people's homes, food, and cable television after their children have gone to bed. Last night I drove to B's house at four in the morning, having looked up tattoos on the internet for quite a few hours. And, when I was leaving this morning, the Ss texted me and asked me if I were available next Friday and Saturday. Score. Babysitting sometimes makes me feel isolated, particularly in the Ss' house--I think it's because it's brand new and they just moved in, so it doesn't quite feel like someone's home yet--and it isn't steady income, but I really love it. Just getting away from school is amazing. And I get paid for it! Can't beat that.
I'm not sure what it says about me, then, that I have blogged this much about work, but it's my life right now, and I'm having fun with it.
First, there's the gym. I have added quite a few hours from my normal Saturday 1-6pm shitick, but it's still pretty groovy. (After I start working 22 hours regularly, I will update, probably with some bitching.) The coworkers there, like at many jobs, pretty much make it. I work with Mer, a refugee from El Salvador and a transplant from Australia. She's been living here for seven years, legally, waiting for the legal system to make her an official citizen. She finally got her green card in the mail on Thursday night. Her husband of twenty-odd years came by with a slim Fed Ex envelope and pulled it out for her. She was so happy. Immediately, after looking at it in joy, she rushed off to the office so that she could have it photocopied. Mer has three kids--one daughter off at college, one 18-year-old she wishes would leave soon, and a teenage son. She appears to be a good mother, and we share stories of her feisty daughter at home and my 16-year-old sister, Mi. She is not my favorite person to work with, but that's just because I have a lot of awesome people from which to choose. Her back aches and I hear about it, but, to her credit, I do believe it is a genuine complaint. She is also rather conservative, and once told a coworker that she was suspicious of black and Hispanic guys checking out her ass all the time, so for the first few weeks at work, she work long coats. The black coworker and I stared at each other and laughed and called her a racist. I told her to watch out for white guys performing the same maneuver. Mer and I work together Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays from six to close.
Di has been there for three years and is accordingly burnt out. We sit at the desk on Saturdays with his laptop and portable speakers and blast obscene rap music. Sometimes we dance. He is a good dancer and I am not bad for a white girl from Memphis. He trained me when I took up the shift and we’ve been working it together for a year. Generally we are not overly concerned with being professional, but we get the job done, treat the members with respect (even the ones we want to physically harm), and don’t act like rampaging teenagers, unlike some of the other people with whom we have worked.
Di, without his fro, possibly makes it up to my cheekbones. He weighs about ninety pounds and wears baggy pants and long shirts to compensate. He is from Panama and has skin that could pass as white or Hispanic. He wears glasses and wants about 12 piercings and various tattoos. Recently we knocked that down to 11 by going to a tattoo parlor and procuring him his first piercing, in the cartilage of his left ear.
He’s got some intense emotional issues. From what I can tell, he’s been depressed since he was about fifteen years old. He is twenty-two now. He goes to a prestigious, notoriously difficult college in our area and it kicks his ass regularly, although I am fairly certain he is very intelligent. When he was a freshman, he lived in the dorm, but now he lives with his controlling mother and father, and I think some of his issues will continue until he moves out. I am passively encouraging this by periodically sending him Craigslist posts with affordable housing by his college, but I also think his mother would pitch a fucking fit if he ever tried to move out. He has a video game hobby that I am sure is quite expensive. He is a nerd with a capital N and wants to program video games one day.
Our history is one strictly of friendship, but I have harbored a slight crush on him since about the time I met him, and he has made it abundantly clear that he would date and/or sleep with me in a heartbeat. I am no longer certain if I am straight enough to sleep with a man, but if I were, he is cute but not my type. So we flirt occasionally and hang out and I am glad, because he seems generally happier and I am in need of friends who have never spent more than a few hours on my school's campus.
Mer, Di, and I also work with a bevy of trainers, almost all of whom I really like and have sometimes spent time with outside of work. The notable exception to that rule is Bry, who is The Asshole. Every workplace has one (or several); the one who works with us is Bry. We put up with him, but I recently confronted him about his assholery and now I think he is a little terrified of me. He flirts with almost every single woman with whom he comes into contact (and is, of course, neither single nor without parental obligations), and I surmised that he has a bit of an issue with women. He has a big issue with me because I am an assertive woman. So that's fun, but ultimately not a big issue, since we don't work in the same space, rarely at the same time, and I goof off during my shifts far less than he does.
So I like working at the gym, but I love working at the Writing Center at school. Currently I am on the clock. No one has shown up, nor is anyone likely to on a Sunday night the second week of school. We do indeed become busy, but not usually today. The lights are off and the sun is illuminating the room just right. It is very quiet. Ideal for doing homework, if I had any sort of inclination to do homework right now. Also it is a minute drive from my room, and about a five minute walk. Can't beat that.
But my absolute favorite is babysitting. I sat for four boys last night, all under six, and made $180. One day, if I ever become a lawyer, that might seem like chump change, but I am twenty years old and that is my car payment plus 86 cents. I really enjoy children, and I usually play with them instead of immediately parking them in front of the TV. I do dishes and I clean up and I'm patient and firm. I especially enjoy other people's homes, food, and cable television after their children have gone to bed. Last night I drove to B's house at four in the morning, having looked up tattoos on the internet for quite a few hours. And, when I was leaving this morning, the Ss texted me and asked me if I were available next Friday and Saturday. Score. Babysitting sometimes makes me feel isolated, particularly in the Ss' house--I think it's because it's brand new and they just moved in, so it doesn't quite feel like someone's home yet--and it isn't steady income, but I really love it. Just getting away from school is amazing. And I get paid for it! Can't beat that.
I'm not sure what it says about me, then, that I have blogged this much about work, but it's my life right now, and I'm having fun with it.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
K and I went to RuSan's after a scholarship panel tonight. It was a lot of fun. I have never been there before and the atmosphere was very groovy. There were approximately a million people jam-packed into the tiny space. People from our college were there; I wanted sake but could find no one to procure it for us. We were seated across from a couple; by the time we had ordered our drinks, the manager moved us. He promised us sake for our troubles and delivered. So K and I had wonderful sushi (twelve tiny rolls of avocado... doesn't get much better) and hot sake, and then we went to Whole Foods and picked up some vegan cookies. M, G, and Al came into RuSan's right around the time we were leaving, and they got back as we started The Stepford Wives. I'm dogsitting for the weekend, so I had to cut out early. I drove back with Kanye West singing "Can't Tell Me Nothin'." The weather is much, much warmer, but I turned on the heat, low, and reveled in the company of myself and the quiet, comforting rumble of my engine. I thought about leg tattoos and dating the cute girl who came up and asked me questions after the panel. (Earlier, tipsy on sake, I declared repeatedly that I had met my wife tonight. But even earlier, without the aid of sake, I voiced this thought. She reminds me of Em's sister J. I am a fan.) I knew that she was being open and friendly in order to garner favor with the university, but I didn't particularly care. I briefly envisioned myself as a junior dating a freshman, listening to rap as we drove around Atlanta. At least in that scenario, I wouldn't be the one chain smoking the last two weeks of school.
But we'll see. My tummy is full and happy on avocado sushi and veg cookies, I'm staying in a house with an Actual Freezer, and I've found some apartments I can afford over the summer break. M has offered me her dining room if I can't find anything, which I very much appreciate. I was worried it would be very hard to find housing this year; turns out it's much easier having done it once already.
I'm planning on attending a bellydancing class tomorrow; we'll see if that happens on my sleep schedule, but it would be nice. I love spinning but I miss dancing. Then I have work at the gym with D, which means blasting rap from speakers and dancing and no bosses. And then I'm babysitting for four kids, sixteen dollars an hour, and I probably won't be back until 3 a.m.
Life is grand.
But we'll see. My tummy is full and happy on avocado sushi and veg cookies, I'm staying in a house with an Actual Freezer, and I've found some apartments I can afford over the summer break. M has offered me her dining room if I can't find anything, which I very much appreciate. I was worried it would be very hard to find housing this year; turns out it's much easier having done it once already.
I'm planning on attending a bellydancing class tomorrow; we'll see if that happens on my sleep schedule, but it would be nice. I love spinning but I miss dancing. Then I have work at the gym with D, which means blasting rap from speakers and dancing and no bosses. And then I'm babysitting for four kids, sixteen dollars an hour, and I probably won't be back until 3 a.m.
Life is grand.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
I talked with my cousin last night until two, trying to convince him to leave the dirtier part of the south and join me in my fair city.
R alleviated my ex/RA problem for me. I did not ask her to do this. She is a keeper. I am very grateful.
I cannot attend a meeting at work that was spurred by my misconduct. Misconduct here meaning I wrote some passes and someone else bitched to our supervisor about it. I am very sad I will not be in attendance but a girl's gotta work Sunday nights helping people out with their papers, lemme tell ya.
I appear to have chosen homework lite classes this semester. This is an extremely positive thing. Despite my excessively structured schedule, I seem to have lost all motivation for homework-type activities. But it's only the second week; I'll get into it.
I am chuckling to myself as I revamp my previous RA application. What I will say is that this time around will be superior.
Netflix finally received the two DVDs I have been hoarding for over a month. Perhaps now I can learn some sign language via DVD instruction.
I am staying at B's house Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights. I am getting paid a hundred dollars, so that is good, but I have quite a conflict Saturday night; I need to leave work early, swing by the house to let the dogs in, go to the gig late (with permission), and return probably around two a.m. I am going to take up all rugs in the kitchen this time to prevent a repeat of the Peeing Incident of 2008, but I think it will be okay. I hung out with my coworker earlier, so hopefully he will be appeased and not be pissed I'm leaving early. Again.
I am not feeling particularly poetic and I really, really need those eight hours.
But in other news, my spinning shoes have done wonders for my leg muscles.
R alleviated my ex/RA problem for me. I did not ask her to do this. She is a keeper. I am very grateful.
I cannot attend a meeting at work that was spurred by my misconduct. Misconduct here meaning I wrote some passes and someone else bitched to our supervisor about it. I am very sad I will not be in attendance but a girl's gotta work Sunday nights helping people out with their papers, lemme tell ya.
I appear to have chosen homework lite classes this semester. This is an extremely positive thing. Despite my excessively structured schedule, I seem to have lost all motivation for homework-type activities. But it's only the second week; I'll get into it.
I am chuckling to myself as I revamp my previous RA application. What I will say is that this time around will be superior.
Netflix finally received the two DVDs I have been hoarding for over a month. Perhaps now I can learn some sign language via DVD instruction.
I am staying at B's house Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights. I am getting paid a hundred dollars, so that is good, but I have quite a conflict Saturday night; I need to leave work early, swing by the house to let the dogs in, go to the gig late (with permission), and return probably around two a.m. I am going to take up all rugs in the kitchen this time to prevent a repeat of the Peeing Incident of 2008, but I think it will be okay. I hung out with my coworker earlier, so hopefully he will be appeased and not be pissed I'm leaving early. Again.
I am not feeling particularly poetic and I really, really need those eight hours.
But in other news, my spinning shoes have done wonders for my leg muscles.
Monday, January 19, 2009
I installed a new lamp on the side of my bed today, right before I changed my sheets (for the first time since I moved in, embarrassingly enough). It is my birthday lamp: green and glorious--and from IKEA, so it's not really putting off much light, but it contributes to the mood-lighting theme I've got going on, so I like it. Plus I don't have to lean over the foot of my bed and snatch at the Christmas light cord to make the lights go out, which is what I have been doing previously, so that is a definite improvement. And I bought it with Devy; what's not to love?
I am on a slight H.I.M. kick. I know the cause and consider myself foolish. When I was driving back home last night after Mellow Mushroom pizzas and cartilage piercings, "Dirty Little Secret" played on the radio. I took it as a sign of the Universe to keep it in my pants, which I fully intend to do. I am an adult and should be making correspondingly more intelligent decisions, dammit. At least I'm not actively pining over my ex. Be careful for what you ask.
But the best thing to do when obsessed with something is to become obsessed with something else, which I fully intend to do. If it's not school, it will be a tattoo. I do not have the kind of money to drop on the kind of piece I want right now, nor have I spent enough time thinking of what I want, so that's rather far off, but looking is generally entertaining. Plus I think that I will add about three more spin classes to my schedule and maybe do Saturday morning bellydance classes, thereby stripping me of every second of free time I might have imagined I possessed.
In the meantime, I'll listen to H.I.M. cover "Solitary Man" and pretend I have no romantic or sexual interest in another human being until I graduate.
Melinda was mine 'til the time
that I found her holdin'
Jim and lovin' him.
Then Sue came along,
loved me strong,
that's what I thought,
but me and Sue,
that died, too.
Don't know that I will
but until I can find me,
a girl who'll stay and
won't play games behind me.
I'll be what I am,
a solitary man,
a solitary man,
a solitary man.
I've had it to here - being where love's a small world,
a part time thing, a paper ring.
I know it's been done
havin' one girl who loves you,
right or wrong,
weak or strong.
Don't know that I will
but until I can find me,
a girl who'll stay and
won't play games behind me.
I'll be what I am,
a solitary man.
I am on a slight H.I.M. kick. I know the cause and consider myself foolish. When I was driving back home last night after Mellow Mushroom pizzas and cartilage piercings, "Dirty Little Secret" played on the radio. I took it as a sign of the Universe to keep it in my pants, which I fully intend to do. I am an adult and should be making correspondingly more intelligent decisions, dammit. At least I'm not actively pining over my ex. Be careful for what you ask.
But the best thing to do when obsessed with something is to become obsessed with something else, which I fully intend to do. If it's not school, it will be a tattoo. I do not have the kind of money to drop on the kind of piece I want right now, nor have I spent enough time thinking of what I want, so that's rather far off, but looking is generally entertaining. Plus I think that I will add about three more spin classes to my schedule and maybe do Saturday morning bellydance classes, thereby stripping me of every second of free time I might have imagined I possessed.
In the meantime, I'll listen to H.I.M. cover "Solitary Man" and pretend I have no romantic or sexual interest in another human being until I graduate.
Melinda was mine 'til the time
that I found her holdin'
Jim and lovin' him.
Then Sue came along,
loved me strong,
that's what I thought,
but me and Sue,
that died, too.
Don't know that I will
but until I can find me,
a girl who'll stay and
won't play games behind me.
I'll be what I am,
a solitary man,
a solitary man,
a solitary man.
I've had it to here - being where love's a small world,
a part time thing, a paper ring.
I know it's been done
havin' one girl who loves you,
right or wrong,
weak or strong.
Don't know that I will
but until I can find me,
a girl who'll stay and
won't play games behind me.
I'll be what I am,
a solitary man.
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