Saturday had me in a regular post-grad funk, so to clear my head I suggested to J that we get outdoors on Sunday. He's a bit of a spider monkey, so he wanted to exercise his rock gym membership, but I'm not so inclined when a day pass costs me $20. Instead, we drove up to the Alpental ski area off exit 52 near Snoqualmie pass and hiked three miles in to Snow Lake. It was supposed to rain all weekend but the weather cooperated. Sunday wasn't clear like Saturday and it was, shall we say "ass" cold up at the lake, but it was a nice outing. The perfect thing to get me back in the mindset for another good 'ol go at pitching myself like a personals ad to the workforce. On the plus side, there are a lot of things I can see myself doing in the Seattle area once I focus a bit. On the down side, it's hard to pinpoint where to get started doing these things. But I've got a good lead or two.
( Continue...)
At the moment, I'm working a non-committed part-to-full time brainless job at J's workplace. Mostly, I run deliveries for the company, a downtown Seattle business that makes signs. I do other work around the shop emptying garbage, sweeping, and tidying up and I don't mind it. I even like building signs and manning the pressure washer. Doing something hands-on and semi-creative that requires so LITTLE brainpower is sometimes a welcome respite after a lifetime of education. Not that I can see myself being a "Shop Boy" long term.
It's the driving that I really love. I spend most of the days picking up and dropping off items for the company, running sundry errands. I get paid hourly and per the mile, which is a nice perk considering that I've driven 92 miles for work just Friday and today. The best part, though, is sweeping about Seattle in Frannie the Mini-van going random places at a semi-leisurely pace, listening to music and just *learning* the city.
Despite that my family has been on the Eastside since '98, I haven't had much chance to get to know Seattle except superficially, the way a high-schooler gets to know a shopping mall. Now I'm really seeing it, all the little nooks and out-of-the-way crannies hidden in the dirty downtown areas and industrial districts. I'm avoiding my share of traffic accidents too. There are a lot of piss-poor drivers out there. (Myself included upon occasion. When you city-drive this much, you tend to notice yourself screwing up. Like today I almost creamed two peds in the crosswalk.)
I see a lot of weird things every day. I've been meaning to bring my camera with me and post a daily picture taken through my windshield. One day traffic on eastbound 520 had come to a halt because a boat was nosed up to the water-level section of the bridge and poking the cement barrier next to the right lane. Some guy with an orange flag was climbing over the wall onto the boat. Pirates?! Another day I settled the matter of a conversation with a friend about whether or not we'd ever seen a homeless person of Asian descent (a matter of cultural honor?) in the Seattle area when I met a Chinese woman panhandling at a freeway entrance. Then there was the mysterious pair of stranded levis stuck in a tree at the intersection of Stewart and Denny streets. I'll bring the camera together and see what I can find to compare with those anomalies.
Posted on October 31, 2005 @ 8:52 PM | 3 comments
Comments:
I think brainless work can act as a blessed vacation sometimes.
By 
Adrienne, at
6:32 AM, November 01, 2005
Sho' can. Looks like I may have a job soon tho. ^_^
By 
Kat, at
8:47 AM, November 01, 2005
It's like when we used to watch VH1 to rest our brains, except your doing things, going places, and getting paid to be brainless!
Personal calls don't bother me much, though I still don't like them. What gets me are business calls for support, inquiries, or other things. I just don't seem to know the steps to the elaborate dance required of impressing someone on the other end. In person, I don't have difficulty with a conversation, casual small talk, and getting the information that I need from an interaction. On the phone, I feel like I turn into a stuttering idiot even if I write down what I want to say beforehand. Maybe I ought to stop doing that.
I've had the most trouble calling to follow up about jobs. It terrifies me, calling someone I don't know, whom I hope to cast as my future employer, and asking some range of questions about whether they have anything available. I don't relish waiting for a return phone call either, but it is somehow less stressful when the cards are on "their" table.
The problem, I think, is that everyone hates telephone calls equally. They hate getting them as much as I hate making them. Or perhaps not... perhaps some people like the incessant ringing that forces them into polite conversation with strangers at the other end of a line. I feel like I'm missing something, like there's some secret script to making someone take a shining to you over the phone without being stupidly formal or nauseatingly sincere. I just don't get it.
As you can tell, I just made a bad call. They say first impressions are everything, and if they're over the phone, I often feel I don't stand a real chance.
Posted on @ 9:31 AM | 3 comments
Comments:
I offer my sympathies.
Lately I've developed a wierd phobia of the phone-- I just hate it ringing, because it is a sign that I'm about to be forced into *some* kind of interaction, but I don't know what. Some days when it is bad, I just screen instead. Sad.
By inkandpen, at
12:31 PM, October 31, 2005
I am the same way. I hate talking to people on the phone, especially if I'm the one to call them. It was really hard for me to sell my car this way, since I'd let the machine get it due to the caller ID's reading, then keep putting off calling the person back.
Can't we all just use email? It's so predictable, and there's spell check.
By Adrienne, at
3:31 PM, October 31, 2005
Man...I hated the phone for awhile after I graduated from college. I just didn't have a lot of experience conducting myself professionally over the telephone line and I always felt apprehensive and somewhat unprepared for the conversation that was about to take place.
However, I have found that the business world is highly dependent on telephone communication still and that having the ability to talk professionally on the phone is a big deal. I was uncomfortable with it for about a year until I simply got used to the types of interaction and communication that happen on the phone.
Nothing bad will come of a phone conversation, just keep that in mind and don't psyche yourself up or out for a conversation. It's just like talking to someone in person, except you can always call back later or defer a question that you can't answer instantaneously on phone.
Just my 2 cents.
-M
Posted on October 28, 2005 @ 9:54 AM | 0 comments
Comments:
For example, there is an excruciatingly yuppie grocery store located nearby. (We love it.) They're a relatively new business so they occasionally send out promotions to reel in new customers. Usually the promotions are something like "buy one quart of soup, get one free." Nice stuff, but not worth wetting one's pants over. One time, however, they sent out a flier carrying this inticing offer, "Come in for one free pint of Hagen Daas ice cream!" Yeah, no strings attached. Ya figure, who doesn't like ice cream, right? Well, apparently the ten suckers who tossed the flier in the recycle without so much as a glance. Or maybe there are lots of lactose intolerant tenants at the Ghetto Apartment. So I come to visit J (this is before I lived here), open the freezer, and what do I see but eleven quarts of fatty, sugary, delicious goodness sitting in there. I guess he went to the market over a two-week period and stealthily cleaned them out.
But this doesn't take the cake, no!
( Continue...)Just last week as we were reveling in our newly delivered eviction notice, J made another discovery... a twenty-dollar gift card to a delicious downtown grill. It was postmarked to some tenant by name with the addendum 'or current resident.' Now, what I want to know is who throws out something that says "FREE TWENTY-DOLLAR GIFT CARD ENCLOSED" without even so much as looking at it? The folded flier was still sealed with gummy glue and not even bent or knicked. It was in no way tarnished with a Comcast, Qwest, or any other vendor logo or the ominous 'terms and conditions apply.' Nay, it was an actual $20 gift card with the only terms being "must be used at dinner; one card per table." Enclosed was a moderately priced selection from the full menu. Oooo-kay. Score one for the starving student and his unemployed girlfriend.
This reminds me of when I used to work for computing support at the University of Oregon and someone would find a killer coupon online and duplicate about 1500 copies of it which we'd use tirelessly until the company shut down the deal, regretting that they ever thought it up. Like the time Quiznos made an online coupon for subs that cost a cent with the purchase of a small drink. We all said, "Hell yeah!" but within a week they'd cancelled the offer. Asshats.
I guess they were counting on more people, like our neighbors here, not appreciating the value of a free lunch... or dinner, as the case may be.
Posted on October 27, 2005 @ 6:39 PM | 2 comments
Comments:
Hey, we did that Quiznos thing too over here at GG. Our accountant brought in like 100 of those coupons that she'd pickup up somewhere, and all our employees ate Quiznos everyday for a few weeks until they cancelled the offer.
Apparently the promo did work on a few of my co-workers though, because they still eat that crap. I'd much rather spend $7 at the greek place next door if I'm gonna spend that much on lunch.
Quiznos was good the first few times... but yeah. Kinda gets old quick.
By , at
1:37 PM, October 28, 2005
mmmm free food...
By Louie, at
10:39 AM, October 31, 2005
I ain't got nothin' much to say today, so here's a random photo from my neighborhood in Japan. Yep, dwarves of all things. It was a strange place.
It's back to the drawing board on the job front. The outdoors publication went with another applicant, though they had nothing but good to say of me except that he had more personal background in some of the subject matter (hunting). As I have no experience hunting, nor do I *want* any, I consider this fair, as it's a large part of the magazine's content. Anyhoo, I'll be following up with my other leads, including the weekly, who wants to keep in touch. Worst case scenario, I'll work part time between REI and J's work to pass the time (and get wicked employee discounts while I'm at it). Ain't no thang.
Posted on October 26, 2005 @ 5:59 PM | 0 comments
Comments:
Posted on October 24, 2005 @ 3:23 PM | 4 comments
Comments:
They gave the job away already? Bitches. Whatever happened to waiting for a response? I'm sorry hunny, that's really shitty. *hug*
May Juanito rest in peace.
By Waterseek, at
8:31 PM, October 24, 2005
awww, poor Janito!!
Sorry you aren't having a great monday. Neither am I. Stupid spider bite from last tuesday is bothering the heck out of me. I got really sick today and went to the docs. Now I am on icky antibiotics that have horrible side effects...hopefully I won't get any of them. To top it off now I am behind in all of my classes.
I am coming home this weekend. You should come visit friday night, maybe?
By , at
10:30 PM, October 24, 2005
Most Mondays suck, but yours looks extra-sucky. I am sorry (in that Canadian, sympathetic, I-didn't-have anything-to-do-with-it-but-I-want-you to-feel-better sort of way) about the job problems. Maybe you'll hear something good and the weekly will check back later? Regardless, you'll find something.
** hugs **
By inkandpen, at
5:42 AM, October 25, 2005
Thanks guys. :-) I empathize with the weekly, because they did warn me that they were in a bit of a crisis situation, and that they would *try* to wait. Their theatre editor gave notice two weeks ago and Friday was his last day and they pretty much had to fill the spot. The deputy managing editor apologized and said that they'd keep an eye out for me in the future. She seems sincere, but I guess she could be a really good actress.
By Kat, at
12:39 PM, October 25, 2005
Oscar Wilde
2. Where was your first kiss?
On the corner of Grant (the street where I lived) and some street with a tree name... I was walking my first boyfriend home.
3. Have you ever seriously vandalized someone else's property?
I don't think so, but I did get in a lot of trouble once for coloring on the white siding of my house with magic markers.
4. Have you ever hit someone of the opposite sex?
Only in jest.
5. Have you ever sung in front of a large number of people?
Many times. When I was in elementary school, I had a solo singing "Maresey Doats" in front of an entire audience of parents. I was terrified. I was in both youth and adult choir at my old Presbytarian church and once sang soprano for the entirety of Handel's The Messiah. I sang in nationals with my high school concert choir in Chicago, 1998. We won first place.
6. What's the first thing you notice about the preferred sex?
Whether or not they have the aura of a complete ass-clown.
( Continue...)
7. What really turns you on?
Well, I like pron involving gay men. Other than than, voyeurism, to a certain extent. And throaty noises. Yum!
8. What do you order at Starbucks?
Tall soy-chai latte-- or tall, non-fat vanilla latte, extra hot.
9. What is your biggest mistake?
I feel like I'm constantly wavering between over- and under-confidence and therefore am never really satisfied with where I am.
10. Have you ever hurt yourself on purpose?
Yes.
11. Say something totally random about yourself.
I collect rocks, shells, nuts, and other random bits I find on the ground. I keep them in bowls and on window shells. I even have some bags of shineys in storage.
12. Has anyone ever said you looked like a celebrity?
Yeah, most of the time I get Cameron Diaz. Sometimes I get Angelina Jolie. I think they both look like psycho bitches, so I am not flattered.
13. Do you still watch kiddy movies or TV shows?
Well, yeah. A lot of people think anime is "kiddy," though I tend to disagree. Sometimes I like to kick back with Nickelodeon, but most of the time I have such limited access to TV and video that I stick to more mature choices.
14. Did you have braces?
Yup. And I always chose colord bands to match the season or holiday. I had everything but headgear, for which I thank my lucky stars. I still have a retainer I wear at night.
15. Are you comfortable with your height?
Most of the time. Wearing heels is a pain in the neck when you're a woman who is close to six-foot. Usually, I think being tall is awesome.
16. What is the most romantic thing someone of the opposite sex has done for you?
I haven't been with really romantic men, so I don't have anything classic to say here, unfortunately (unless I'm forgetting something, sorry). J surprised me at prom with some pretty sweet-ass vintage cars he'd rented.
17. When do you know it’s love?
When you can live with a person and share their bed for more than six months and not have an anyeurism when you find their hair in your toothbrush or something like that.
18. Do you speak any other languages?
Japanese. Very little French. Pig Latin.
19. Have you ever been to a tanning salon?
Yes, a few times. Sometimes because it was cheap and I was bored. Tanning was also free at this one apartment I lived in.
20. What magazines do you read?
Newsweek, National Geographic, Montana Magazine, Wired, The Stranger, Seattle Weekly
21. Have you ever ridden in a limo?
Nope, never. But re the "romance" question, I have ridden in a classic London Taxi, a Silver Cloud Bentley, and a Rolls Royce.
22. Has anyone you were really close to passed away?
...strangely no, not yet.
23. Do you watch mtv?
I hate MTV. It appeals to what I imagine is a younger, trashier demographic. VH1 is more my type of TV smut.
24. What’s something that really annoys you?
Illiterage imbeciles who punctuate pluralizations with apostrophes. I'm not even talking about the common mistake of "its" versus "it's"; I'm talking about the internet plague of writing "pic's" instead of "pics." It's just WRONG. I even saw a sign in Crap-Francisco with the word OURS punctuated likewise. I'm not lying.
25. What’s something you really like?
Puttanesca!
26. Do you like Michael Jackson?
He entertains me with his creepiness. But as for his...ah... artistry, no, I do not like him.
27. Can you dance?
When I stop feeling self-conscious, yes. I'm not too good at ballroom, but I can manage with a strong lead. Gimme a few shots of tequila and I can boogie with the best.
28. What’s the latest you have ever stayed up?
That's a silly question. All night, duh.
29. Have you ever been rushed by an ambulance into the emergency room?
Nope.
30. Do you actually read these when other people fill them out?
If they're not too long or filled with dumb questions like "Which celebrities do you want to bone?"
(From Meegan)
Just got back from P-town where J and I went to the Rose City Roller Girls' innagural bout with my college-student sister in the area. We at late pasta, bought chocolates at Moonstruck, then drank a moderate amount of tequila and wandered around sis's campus doing nothing in particular. Come morning, we had soup for breakfast and then bought shineys at the Sunday Market where J and I annoyed sis with our obnoxious nesting tendencies. Now I'm back here stressing about my key interview tomorrow. Bah. Anyhow, that's it.
Posted on October 23, 2005 @ 9:56 PM | 0 comments
Comments:
Kawaii!!
Posted on October 21, 2005 @ 10:09 PM | 2 comments
Comments:
me want Banff pictures!
By , at
11:27 PM, October 21, 2005
Sorry, been busy with job stuff and more. Prolly sometime this week.
By Kat, at
10:27 PM, October 23, 2005
I love the publication and I'd like to convince myself that if I did it, they'd love me and hire me on permanently sometime in those three months, perhaps even for the theatre arts editor's job. But who knows.
The other job interview at the outdoorsy-type magazing is for a full-time, salaried job that pays high in the 20k range per year and probably has good stuff like benefits. They were the first people with whom I scheduled the interview, though in retrospect I wish I'd made it with them for Friday, instead of Monday, because if I'm NOT offered the full-time position there's a chance that I may have scared off the weekly.
It's an awkward position to be in, but I think I'm handling it well. The weekly knows I want the job, but they also know that I ideally want full time work, and I have a full-time interview on Monday. Grah! I don't want them to think I'm baiting them against each other, but I did get two calls in one day for very different positions at very different magazines. If the weekly magazine were offering me a full-time position out of the gate, I'd take it, I think, hands down. But I don't want to get shuffled off in three months to go back into the ring. And, all things being equal, I also want to speak with the other magazine because working for them could be very satisfying. What to do, what to do?
Posted on October 20, 2005 @ 5:20 PM | 1 comments
Comments:
First of all, CONGRATS for being offered a position!
Now what to do: if it were me, I would wait, interview with the fishing and hunting magazine on Monday and see what they might offer you. If they offer you their full-time position, great, if not, I would take the temp job unless another interview with a different mag presents itself between now and then.
Temp work can turn into other oppportunities and worst case scenario you will make several connections over the three month period, earn work experience, $, and connections. It is unfortunate that it is temporary, but the connections and experience that you could gain from that will be invaluable.
Eee I'm so excited for you, either way!
On the other hand, I was called twice today regarding magazine work. I'm interviewing with a local outdoors magazine on Monday. And that's not all... one of the five mags to which I mailed a packet (containing a cover letter, resume, two letters of reference, and work samples) YESTERDAY called me TODAY to interview TOMORROW. It's a kitchy weekly mag, and that's all I'm saying. I don't want to reveal the names of my potential employers, since I don't want to get dooced in the future.
I'll say that I'm reluctantly optimistic. I interview well. Very well, in fact... I've never not been offered a job for which I've interviewed, knock on wood. But I won't get cocky. I'm just happy to have gained some affirmation from the great big world out there, considering that earlier today I spent half an hour sobbing over my steering wheel at the hopelessness of life. >_<
J and I signed the lease for our new apartment today. Our friend Nerdy says that the outside looks like a hotel. I think it looks like a cake, so I call it Cake House. Kinda southwesty. I prefer the "I'm rich and own a townhome" exterior, but I can't complain... it has massive square footage and track lighting. Boo yeah.
It's funny how sometimes things come together all at once.
Posted on October 19, 2005 @ 9:56 PM | 2 comments
Comments:
Things are looking up! Only a small amount of time lies between you and the great wide world of overwork and late nights-- I know you'll be awesome at it.
I won't give premature congratulations, only wish your brilliant badass self luck in your upcoming interviews.
By inkandpen, at
6:30 AM, October 20, 2005
Luck luck, KK!
Yet, it's a bit disappointing getting voicemail after voicemail, feeling you're putting off for another day that first bit of real contact that might get you in the door.
Posted on @ 10:11 AM | 2 comments
Comments:
you should cold resume-cover letter-etc.-pack-send. that's where you look awesome. (and in person. heh). what can they tell from your voice?
By , at
7:44 PM, October 19, 2005
That's what I did yesterday! :-) I was calling the places to which I sent the packets (5 total, this round) to speak with the managing editors to let them know I'm interested and that the packet is on the way. I didn't get any "real people," but for the moment I'm content with the "heads up" and will bother them again when they've had time to check the mail. (Tho see today's post for how fast the turnaround can be.)
By Kat, at
9:56 PM, October 19, 2005
Also, and this is a MAJOR turn-off for me (figuratively and literally), some moron designer placed the main walkway and parking area directly outside the ground-floor units' bedroom window. NO PRIVACY and huge amounts of noise. BAD.
This spring, J got notice that he was being evicted. No, not because he was a bad tenant, but because the new management had, in fact, bought the place to turn it into... *gasp*... CONDOS! I was still in Oregon and couldn't exactly apartment and job hunt from Eugene, so what were we to do? As it turns out, not much, because the management was only turning building B into condos-- building A was still "occupiable," basically lived-in by all the sucker tenants who were too destitute to leave or actually liked the place. Building A, I guess, was their way of socking away rent money while they started the construction on building B-- construction that would essentially make "A" tenants' lives miserable.
( Continue...)
So what did we do? We moved into Building A. Not because we're masochists but because rent is cheap (read: I don't have to pay Justin any money as I'm unemployed) and it's a month-to-month lease. We can, should we choose to, leave at any time. But we had incentive to wait. One of the "B" tenants, probably an anal-retentive asshole, was righteously pissed off about being kicked out and meanwhile abused during the 3-months after notice and before final mandatory vacation. He got a lawyer. And the lawyer unearthed the juicy tidbit that by city law, tenants evicted from a condo-conversion can get a $500 "relocation stipend" if they make less that 80% of the area's median income. And we do. Since we knew we were in for a little dough very shortly, we stuck it out.
Like I said, they've been doing an unpleasant amount of construction. With unpleasant results. Aside from the noise, there is debris everywhere. And several weeks ago, they began roofing. Supposedly a two week process but it's still going on. A few days after they started, one unlucky Friday night, it began to rain... into the living room. I guess the roofers, unusually unskilled, forgot what might happen when they removed the gutters and didn't replace them. We're not even the top floor. The rain came down the walls of the balcony above us, pooled on the floor, and seeped through the poorly sealed walls into our ceiling. I guess another sad bastard had one of the roofers actually stick his FOOT through his ceiling. Oy vey.
Ironically, we just found a place to live, and were putting in application to move next month, hoping we'd get notice in the mean time. And today, it came in the mail. We have an apartment secured by a friend's recommendation (he's senior tenant in the 4-unit house). It's huge, bright, and in a great, kitchy part of Seattle. Not the yuppie wet dream I've been having, but homey and very liveable. With a really nice owner, not the faceless management of this dump. I'll tell you more about where we'll be living soon, but I wanted to break the news and share the background first.
I bet they can't even try to withhold our money after the last guy sicced the city on them. Yay!
Posted on October 18, 2005 @ 11:01 PM | 1 comments
Comments:
good-bye Ghetto apartments!
By Rachel, at
2:31 PM, October 19, 2005
Sunday was my birthday and so, to get ramped up, we first had a mini-party at Game Night on Friday (thanks for the Bat Mitzva card, guys, how sweet!) and then went to the Roller Derby on Saturday. I guess Roller Derby is just coming back in on the West Coast, and the bout we saw was the final round of the Seattle Rat City Roller Girls' first season. Justin had been to one bout before, the Semi-Finals, and wanted to show me what I was missing. He was right-- it's pretty much the awesomest sport ever. And for the moment, the RCRG hosts its matches in a hangar across the street from us. The particular atmosphere combined with the level of violence in the sport makes it feel a bit like watching illegal boxing. The Portland team is opening their first season next week, and we're gonna road trip it down to P-town to watch their season. (Every bout, if we can help it!) If you're in Eugene, I seriously recommend getting a piece of the action. Tickets are only $10 and beer is plentiful!
Posted on October 17, 2005 @ 8:50 AM | 2 comments
Comments:
oooo, can I come?
Is it on a weekend?
By , at
2:27 PM, October 17, 2005
Next Saturday night... you can come if you can get yoself down to Seattle and back. :-)
By Kat, at
2:53 PM, October 17, 2005
A week later, when our living room ceiling began to leak, we found out that Dave the Maintenance Guy was, in fact, the boy who lived next door. Contrary to our expectations of our neighbor, Dave was, in fact, quite charismatic. I was lounging in my pjs when he came to scope the collosal damage to our ceiling, and he ended up staying, philosophising, and sharing his deepest feelings about his recent life epiphany. Quite touching and a bit odd, but overall serindipitous as his revelations corresponded somewhat closely to my own, almost a year ago.
Anyhoo, Dave the Maintenance Guy loves music. Go figure. After apologizing for the noise, he told me that he used to have a band and that they would practice at his place. That is, until he got one more than the three maximum noise violations and the apartment staff tolf him to cut it out because he was supposed to be setting an example for the other tenants. Dave still, however, has a tendency to play his music loud... even after apologizing for it.
( Continue... )
For the next week, he seemed to do it only in bursts. And, as I realized, after several days of loud-quiet intervals, he seemed to listen to the same song over and over again. Something that sounded Ozzy Osbourne-ish. Very rocking. I was amused, but not confused. I can understand fixating on that one song that gets you going.
Then, today, it went on longer than five minutes, and it wasn't *the* song, it was something different. OK, I figured, I'll give him ten. After twenty minutes, the pounding was starting to cut into my ability to write coherent masturbatory sentences describing my "skills set." I walked out the door in my socks, over to the next unit, and pounded on the door.
No answer.
I pounded again, still nothing. I stood there for a moment with dreaded understanding that he COULDN'T HEAR ME. Then I realized that I must have been mistaken about Ozzy, for what I was listening to wasn't the punkingest rocker... it was GOD MUSIC. Christian Rock. Turned WAY THE FUCK UP. "We are children of peaaaaace!!!!" Was blasting through the front door. I facepalmed and went back home. I guess I felt a little bad for trying to interrupt his worship session.
But wait, it doesn't end there. Ten minutes later, I'm still trying to work and failing. I tried headphones to no avail. Bass of course permeates ear plugs. So I resort to the undignifying act of stomping over there to knock again. This time, after the third knock, the music ceases in the middle of DC Talk's Jesus is Just Alright [sic] but no one comes to the door. I knock again and hear movement, so I wave weakly into the peep-hole.
"Hi," says Dave through the door. "Hi," say I, wondering why he doesn't open it. He does, halfway, just enough so that I can see he's not wearing a shirt, or probably pants, though the door is blocking his downstairs. "I was just wondering if you could keep the volume down... I'm working on the other side of the wall." "Oh," says Dave, "Well, I just turned it off so I could do some typing. Funny that you should come over now!" I didn't have the heart to tell him that I'd already been over once. Instead I walked home back to a quiet apartment mortified, wondering who rocks out to God... naked.
Posted on October 13, 2005 @ 9:17 PM | 4 comments
Comments:
Maybe he was referring to the "one handed typing" people sometimes do at the computer?
By Cockblocker, at
9:10 AM, October 14, 2005
What, he was done with his Christ for the evening, so he moved on to spanking the Bishop?
By Kat, at
9:29 AM, October 14, 2005
I bet he has really loud masterbatory sex with himself to Christian Rock. That's my vote!
By Waterseek, at
4:34 PM, October 14, 2005
Slightly off topic (I think ;)
Happy Birthday, Kat!
By , at
5:58 PM, October 16, 2005
I've always had a (sick?) fascination with giving blood. The rush I get from the altruism, perhaps combined with the endorphin rush of being stuck with a needle for 20 minutes and losing a quart of blood, is enough to keep me coming back. The idea of giving something more, something different, seems appealing to me.
And, though this makes me sound kinda greedy, a $3500 to $5000 payoff certainly doesn't *deter* me from researching egg donation. Originally, I considered trying to go for a fat check with a private firm-- but I think the days of $20,000 solicited donations are over, and those that do exist are either shady and fake or reserved for the handful of Ivy League model/dancer/biochemist donors. So I've gathered applications from several Seattle and Portland clinics that are wel-reviewed and I'm considering putting myself on file with them.
No, I'm not squicked by the concept of my genetic material running around somewhere on the planet. If anything, I find it reassuring to know that should I donate an egg and then die, I'll at least have succeeded as an organism. The idea of injecting myself in the stomach daily with an epi-pen full of follicle-stimulator doesn't bother me, nor does the egg harvesting procedure or the associated pain. I have a high pain tolerance and a healthy immune system. If other women can do it, so can I... although the term "Trans-Vaginal Needle" does make me shudder a bit. The only thing that does bother me is the idea of resetting my hormonal balance four times in a matter of months-- going OFF my pill, getting ON the pill the clinic selects to synch my cycle to the recipient's, going on the follicle stimulator, and then getting back on my pill.
I can deal with bloating, discomfort, and moods for the 10-14 days of hormonal intensity that treatment requires, but making myself a f-ed up mess for 3 months doesn't sound as appealing. When I consider that I could pay off four grand of my $30,000 in college loans in a heartbeat, however, the whole thing is cast in another light.
NOTE: All sections of the sidebar are active, including email (in case it didn't work before). Galleries of this summer's trips to Glacier and Banff should be up in the next few weeks.
Posted on @ 11:16 AM | 4 comments
Comments:
Seems like an exciting way to overachieve as an organism. And really, who wouldn't want your genetic material for half of their children? You are pretty awesome afterall.
By , at
1:56 PM, October 13, 2005
Well, if they have extras, I'll tell them to save one in a petri dish and send it to you. You can name it Eggy! ;-)
By Kat, at
4:34 PM, October 13, 2005
That is both scary and awesome. Everyone could have a little Kat! 4k is an awesome amount of money though.. maybe I should do this too as long as Blk is out of the picture and wouldnt have to deal directly with my bitchyness.
By , at
4:50 PM, October 13, 2005
You do know that I would us Eggy to clone an army of mighty space-pirate amazon ninja katgirls, don't you?
By , at
6:40 PM, October 13, 2005
1. What do you think of me, iTunes?
2. Will I have a happy life?
3. What do my friends really think of me?
4. Do people secretly lust after me?
5. What does [insert significant other] think of me?
6. How can I make myself happy?
7. What should I do with my life?
8. Why must life be so full of pain?
9. How can I maximize my pleasure during sex?
10. Will I ever have children?
11. Will I die happy?
12. Can you give me some good advice?
13. Do you know where your children are?
14. What do you think happiness is?
( Read My Answers... )
The ones I think are funny or ironic are bolded. The rest just really don't make any sense.
1. What do you think of me, iTunes?
When I change your mind -----(Cherry Poppin’ Daddies)
2. Will I have a happy life?
Ad Lib Blues -----(Lester Young With The Oscar Peterson Trio)
3. What do my friends really think of me?
Fast Car -----(Tracy Chapman)
4. Do people secretly lust after me?
Here Comes the Rain -----(Eurythmics)
5. What does [insert significant other] think of me?
Just A Gigolo ------(Thelonius Monk Quartet)
6. How can I make myself happy?
Synchronicity -----(The Police)
7. What should I do with my life?
Anytime -----(Brian McKnight)
8. Why must life be so full of pain?
Sister Golden Hair -----(America)
9. How can I maximize my pleasure during sex?
Gold Dust -----(Tori Amos)
10. Will I ever have children?
Wishful Thinking -----(Wilco)
11. Will I die happy?
All Blues -----(Miles Davis)
12. Can you give me some good advice?
Black Velveteen -----(Lenny Kravitz)
13. Do you know where your children are?
Feel good inc -----(Gorillaz)
14. What do you think happiness is?
The Power of Love (Sailor Moon)
Posted on October 12, 2005 @ 12:33 PM | 1 comments
Comments:
Your life will be All Blues? Ouch.
By Cory P, at
1:04 AM, October 14, 2005
( Continue... )
These days I keep cycling between anger and indifference, two big indicators that I might need to talk to someone, and probably someone more positive than you. For once, I don't think I need to talk about what's going on in my life... just simply, my feelings. But where I come from, we don't talk about our feelings. Not in my family, not in my relationship. We second-guess ourselves, saying that everything's OK anyway, that whatever negative emotion we're experiencing will just blow over, feeling guilty that we were ever dissatisfied when look at everything we have, and who really needs that touchy-feeling bullshit anyway-- just as I'm doing as I'm writing this, already apologizing in my head for being such a downer and do I really need to keep track of the thoughts I have if they're things like this?
I think sometimes that I'm not expected to have any feelings at all, and just put up with what life throws at me. Anger is me lashing out at the bad things, the things that don't go my way. Funny enough, anger is the good guy here... it's at least proactive and passionate. It makes me feel better. Indifference, as I've heard several times lately, is the opposite of passion, of love. It's stewing in disappointment and "settling." Both are the children of fear, which, of course, (as always, blah blah blah) is the real problem.
I saw a counselor at the University of Oregon for a while the Spring Term before I went to Japan. For weeks I met with her in a soulless office sitting in an overstuffed chair that made me want to go to sleep. I've never been impressed with psychologists, partially because they fail to help me analyze myself any better than I can already do on my own. This one was no exception. For weeks, I shared my observations, outlining events in my life that caused X, Y, and Z to happen. Finally, it occurred to me that all she did was nod and affirm, letting me talk. That's ok, I understand the psychological method. But one day she turned to me and asked, almost patronizingly, "Why are you here?" Truly, I didn't know what to say. But I thought it obvious that I must be there for a reason and that the reason, at the very least, was something she was supposed to help me find.
I guess I was only there to talk. Perhaps about my feelings, a subject on which we rarely broached. And in that respect she was a poor shrink. I think that's maybe what I need now... a non-judgmental someone whom to spew my thoughts. (Though therapy proves, ahm, costly without insurance coverage.) I don't need a friend who will side with me, or a figment built on the ideals that plague me, or a boyfriend with whom every metaphysical conversation feels more like a slightly defensive debate. I just need some way to be proactive abot everything that goes through my head.
I feel superficially stupid, because I spend so much of the time not talking about ANYthing and so much of the time thinking about everything. It's that fear. It captures me so that I sit, frozen for hours on end, contemplating actions and consequenses like one of those damned Choose Your Own Adventure books. When I do talk to people, it feels nervous, forced, and faked. And mostly, what comes out is either a) angry or b) indifferent.
Having a job would be a nice avoidance mechanism, but getting one is troublesome when all I can seem to accomplish is sitting and thinking. Then there are sporadic instances of mania where I stand up, start moving, and can't STOP until everything. on. the. list. is. done. The mania is so tiring that it makes my catatonic contemplative state even more inviting. And in-between, there is gym time... really the only instance of physical non-attachment I can find in times of stress. Working out, I can move but not really get caught up in it, and just be. I've been meaning to re-read The Power of Now, especially after a serindipitous conversation about the book with my neighbor, the maintenance guy, but I just can't get into it.
People, myself included, go through life asking each other, "How are you?" which no more means "How do you feel?" than does "Can you pass the salt?" It's a simple affirmation, to which to accepted answer is always some rendition of "fine." If I'm not "fine," I'm a fuck-up, and if I'm not a fuck-up, I'd better be fine, because no one will bother to ask me, "How do you feel?"
"You" would ask me how I feel. But did you really? More likely, I'm wishing I could conjure up an ideal companion and conversation partner who would take me on an anything-but-mundane adventure through the landscape of the universe and the psyche. (Blah, blah, more melodramatic bullshit, as dad would say.) I guess the understated epiphany is that the "you" that lives inside me already IS "me," and to create that companion, all I have to do is learn to live with myself. Easier said than done.
And there, really, is the problem that my U of O shrink had with me-- I could get so easily to a realization and be utterly indifferent to it and completely confused as to how to approach it. So it was a pointless conversation, and a pointless journey from point "A" to point "B" with no one stopping in between to ask "How do you feel?"
Posted on October 11, 2005 @ 1:19 PM | 3 comments
Comments:
Your feelings are completly valid Kat. I think that the early twenties are a time where a lot of us suffer a "mini-crisis" of sorts that can really be awful. I know you are somewhat aware of the panic/anxiety that I went throuugh this past year that has only just recently subsided (for good I'm sure of it).
These things are born out of habits and behaviors that are internal and external. Our parents cause them, our teachers cause them, our personal expectations cause them, our culture causes them. I talked with a very good psychologist down here in Eugene for several months and one of the funny things about those encounters was that I always felt really silly talking about myself without a bunch of leading questions and such. And talking certainly was an outlet, but the thing that really hit me along about the 3rd session was that everything that I was saying about how I felt, or how I was treated, or how life sucked was all inside me and part of me I didn't get to choose it.
See, I always assumed that I could pick and choose who I was, but as I talked, all of the neurotic tendencies, the anxiety, the forecasting, all of that was inside of me and part of me too. Everytime I would feel panic I would think of my own imminent doom how inevitable it is, some people react the opposite and get complacient. As I talked about my panic symptoms and episodes, I realized that my panic developed out of a desire to please everyone, to always be the right person and to deny myself any time to live and grow and be. Too focused on the goal and not on the path. Just. Be.
The panic and anxiety symptoms didn't really start to go away for a few month, those were a rough few months (I can't beleive that people live with that for years). I wish that there was a trite little lesson that I could give you from all of that, but hey it's up to everyone to figure it out for themselves. One thing I did find was that getting to the root of these feelings that I was yammering about with the shrink meant going back to my adolescent years and analyzing any similar feelings in my past and attributing them to how I currently felt. As you say knowing is only HALF the battle here. Although establishing a pattern did help, what I think has got me through it all to a place of calm was allowing myself to accept that that is a part of me. To give it a big 'ole hug and welcome it to the party, not to let it control me, but rather to recognize when I was panicked or anxious and to know that that's just who I am. Most of all it has been about just letting myself not be focused and over-achieving and to be happy with that. Admit it Kat, you can coast at 50% your potential and capacity and still be better at most things than 90% of the world. So smile and accept that and use it to your advantage when you need to, don't drill yourself into the ground all the time.
Speaking from observation, it seems to me that you have had an extreme lack of affirmation for who you are from your family (read parents).
(Blah, blah, more melodramatic bullshit, as dad would say.)
That hurts deep. And I don't think that's the only example you can think of where your feelings were completly invalidated by someone who you look up to and respect. I can see how that has shaped you and your personality. The thing is, we don't get to change that, or modify that tendency, that's just the way your antennae has been bent. (no "your mom" jokes there =)
So you may say, "yeah yeah I know this already, I figured this out years ago," and you may well have. But you haven't accepted that your parents were rotten parents in some ways, and that you have a lot of lovin' to do as a result, loving of all the good and bad things inside of you. That's not settling, that's accepting. Acceptance leads to calm and calm is the place to approach all activities from. Find your calm, your acceptance, your love. You don't need to get rid of anything to find it, just accept all those traits you find along the way 'cause they are "you."
*pause*
Not sure if that went anywhere, but I tried....Oh hey check your email or something cause gallery and your oatmail account are done. Maybe I sent it to the wrong address.
Love ya Kat!
-M
By Cockblocker, at
8:46 AM, October 12, 2005
I could never had said it better myself.
Give me a call if you need to talk and have someone listen, hunny.
< 3 R
By Waterseek, at
11:59 AM, October 12, 2005
Listen to Micah, he is wise beyond his years (or at least fully wise up to his alottment of years).
Be careful of finding too many avoidance mechanisms - though it is certainly necessary to have a break from the monotonous circles lonely thought leads to, it is important to have a balance, lest you be trapped in by obligation and have no time at all for thought (could I be projecting here?).
In my own defense (or as an offering of some explanation), it is hard to speak of the chaotic world of feelings and wishes to someone who has disavowed herself of drama. It is easy to withdraw when the implication is that you are (in part) the source of that drama. I do not wish that to sound like shifting of blame, but rather as an explanation of my endeavors to avoid (as I saw it) dredging myself up too often as a inconsistent anachronism in your much changed life.
As you know, I do not much like to post my thoughts in the public spaces of the internet (or any other social setting, for that matter). If you want to talk, one to one, I hear that these nifty tMobile things let you do that. I would like very much to speak to you if it is something that you want.
By , at
12:53 PM, October 13, 2005
We were discussing at home the other night how wonderful it would be if "friends with benefits" actually came with benefits. Like, you know, a sweet little 401k. It'd make social negotiations a whole lot more pleasant.
Anyway, I'm now actively selling myself to the man, firing off some solicited application and some cold-call inquiries to several area publications and some non-journalism jobs. The area publications are *mostly* local-interest and NW-cultural like Seattle magazine and The Stranger, but some are more variable, like Northwest Home + Garden and Fishing & Hunting News. I might not be suited for technical writing, but the benefits at f5 Networks are certainly enticing... and work for a Japanese publishing company might not pay well but could prove a positive experience. So I'm dibble-dabbling in all of it, about ten jobs in all, with hopefully, at the least, a 10 percent return.
Posted on October 10, 2005 @ 3:45 PM | 2 comments
Comments:
as an employed journalist (gasp! yes, they do exist), let me tell you that no matter your credentials, when you're a recent college grad if you want a good job (not just some no-benefit freelancing or intro. stuff) you better cast a WIDE net... i mean, hope something in the seattle area comes through, but be willing to at least look elsewhere... or practice your "do you want fries with that?" smile.
By , at
2:22 PM, October 12, 2005
No worries. Outside of Seattle, I have a handful of publications I'm checking and re-checking in Portland, and a few options in Montana. I'll stick it out in Seattle for a while, of course, and I'm backing up my interests-- not with fries (gah, nevarrr) but with language-skill applicable jobs, and miscellaneous retail/etc. positions. (Going to the REI job fair next week-- they give insurance to even their part-timers! *gasp*)
By Kat, at
11:13 AM, October 13, 2005
Posted on October 09, 2005 @ 10:26 PM | 0 comments
Comments:
I'll be twenty-three on Sunday, my grandmother seventy-five on Saturday, and my sister eighteen on Tuesday. I guess this time I rank first in order of "insignificant birthdays," though somehow twenty-three seems a lot older than twenty-two. J and I have plans to go see the roller derby on Saturday and attend a workshop in Seattle on Sunday. Other than that, I don't think we'll be celebrating much more, which seems somehow appropriate. I'd gotten accustomed to my parents wanting a list of potential b-day presents from me to disperse to the grandparents, but it as I get older my wish-list gets more expensive and less requested. I'll probably get a smattering of $25 checks that I'll probably use to pay off my credit card and the vet bills for Rupert the cat and Juanito the ailing leopard gecko.
( Continue... )
Still not much progress on the job front, thought I have lined up several prospective employers at Seattle-area magazines. I'm just not excited about any of it though, and I really do want to be excited about the places to which I'm applying. Getting my hopes up seems like a really easy way to be let down, so I figure I'll just take it easy and when someone is ready to hire me, I'll let myself get happy about it.
I wish I could write more, but I don't exactly have anything to say. The only outrage I've been feeling lately is personal, not political, which unfortunately doesn't lend itself to a great deal of involvement with the world. I wish I could meet people, but I haven't the social avenues (besides the gym which is filled with rich Laurelhurst wives) yet to do so. I wish I could at least channel some frustration or enthusiasm into cover letters soliciting my greatness, but I look out the window, I see suburbia, and I picture myself trapped here forever. That makes it really hard to get started.
Posted on @ 1:46 PM | 0 comments
Comments:
( Continue... )
There is an ideal of love that escapes me. I understand Real Love, the kind of love that sparks comfort and consideration in the little things-- like "I Bought Your Favorite Candy Bar and Put it in the Fridge for When You Got Home" Love, "You Had a Long Day So I'll Rub Your Feet" Love, or "I Left You the Last Bowl of Cracklin' Oat Bran" Love. This kind of love I know well. It is another kind of love that has come to both obsess and repulse me recently. We'll call it Literary Love.
Literary Love is the timeless ideal embodied by every Prince Charming sought by every self-acclaimed princess from Sleeping Beauty to Sarah Jessica Parker. It's the core element of classic romance and Chick Lit. And it drives me batshit insane for two reasons: it is either something I have yet failed to achieve, or it is (in all likelihood) an impossible ideal. I wish I could say I don't know which thought bothers me more, but it is most decidedly the former.
It would only irk me slightly to view Literary Love in the same light as I view other fictional ideals and fictional characters. It seems to me that someone miscast Infatuation (a "Phase One" relationship trait) as an enduring concept. It's a nice idea, one that during my mid-teens I believed in very much. But I look around me and even in the most stable, loving relationships I fail to see even a glint of Literary Love. The people I watch fall in and out of Literary Love pass through countless brief sparks of passion, crash into heartbreak and repeat the process. It never lasts. So I can either choose not to believe in this once-treasured ideal... Or...
I can decide that I haven't experienced it because I haven't found Prince Charming. And that's what Chick Lit would like me to believe. That I ought to be the Perfect Woman with the Perfect Man (other fictional roles that modern society loves to embrace). It would be easy to brush off this absurd notion had I not been so obsessed with romance at one time, and so disenfranchised with it now. It would be easy if some part of my brain didn't keep nattering that I shouldn't settle for anything less than True Love, Literary Love.
Settling. I equate that word with personal death. All my life I watched my parents "settle" for one thing after another, their hopes and dreams wasting away into bitter, withered self-pity and self-loathing. My dad told me to prepare myself for an adult life filled with disappointment, and in my own way, I did. I promised myself not to settle for anything less than my expectations, because if I did, I would become just like them.
And that's why Literary Love infuriates me. Because I'm either being lied to, or I'm not good enough. I'm caught between a little girl conscience and the voice of my father, the idealist and the rationalist, the ignorant optimist and the level-headed pessimist. It makes me a little bit cynical.
At the core of it is that whole bit about "settling." If the world around me tells me that I ought to have Literary Love to be happy and I see that everyone around me doesn't have it, I oughtn't "settle" for less, right? I equate it with stangnancy, apathy, and giving up. The truth is that I ought to ignore the word entirely; throw it out. I might try on "acceptance" for size. Acceptance of where I am and who I'm with instead of struggling against the flow to get somewhere better. I know this-- but what's that stupid saying?
"Knowing is half the battle." Only half.
Posted on October 06, 2005 @ 4:28 PM | 3 comments
Comments:
You have identified the real reason why Literary Love frustratres you so: you equate LL to settling and you equate settling to unhappiness. An unfortunate model of settling has been modeled for you, as you say of your parents, and you have made a consious decision that you don't want to follow the model that they have shown you.
So how does this tie into your current relationship? I know that you know that LL is not sustainable, nor functional. So why desire it at all? There are other checks and balances available to ensure that you are not merely settling for the Real Love that you have.
I guess I am left confused as to why you would want a Literary Love figure anyway. Perhaps it a mental check and balance on Real Love?
By Rachel, at
3:14 PM, October 08, 2005
Because another safety mechanism I've developed as a result of my parents' "deadly mediocrity" is overachievement. Nothing's ever good enough, and despite those checks-and-balances I find myself constantly second-guessing and reanalyzing a so-called "decision" I may have firmly made a minute, a day, or a month before. I have problems veryfying my feelings and/or understanding what they mean. A part of me thinks that when everything is "right," it will all be clear. But in my experience, this has never happened, and so far as I know has never happened for anyone I know... but there's that sort of fairy-tale stereotype that it WILL happen or SHOULD happen, which I think my subconscious overachiever mind still believes.
By Kat, at
2:20 PM, October 09, 2005
I am surprised to hear you start your new blog with this crisis of faith - the same lingering haze that has left wisps of doubt on my horizons for the last five years.
Of course there might be better matches, new and different dawns - but will could any of them every truly part those doubts?
The cynic would say that once one begins to question, there is no return to that state of blissfull certainty. You must decide, then, how much risk you are willing to accept. Yes... you could find something new, but you will always, always wonder if there is something better - or if there could have been something better if you'd not taken that risk.
Someone trying to offer wisdom might say that you cannot predict the future, so you must accept the present. You must act in the interest of what you feel - there is no analytical means to know what is "right" or what is possible.
One thing is true of adult life - it is sure to be filled with uncertainty. Whether or not that will equate to disappointment is... I like to hope... something that one has the power to determine for oneself.
Besides, just to say point out the obvious and cliche, how many literary love stories have you read that ever went on in detail about anything more that the first few months of a relationship in any terms other than "and they lived hapilly ever after" or some other uncertain but optimistic conclusion.
Still... one wonders how that concept of love came to be such a powerful archetype in the human psyche if it is truly an untouchable ideal? Does it bear any more relevance to the reality of your life than any other great icon of myth?
By , at
2:07 AM, October 10, 2005
Posted on October 05, 2005 @ 3:32 PM | 1 comments
Comments:
Hie! Nice to see that you get your page all set up! I'll have a little look around...:)
By , at
4:01 PM, October 07, 2005
