Early Morning Blues And Greens
Yes, I did my 6AM work today. On one hand, we were busy and low on help - this IS Labor Day Weekend. On the other hand, I got three breaks, one of them a 30-minute lunch, and the time did go fairly quickly. I really wish they'd push the kids harder to actually show up for work on time, though. There were two boys who were supposed to come in for me, and they were BOTH late!
Riding to work this morning was really weird. I haven't worked this early since I opened the Wildwood Acme at 6AM the day after the Fourth of July 2003. I'm not used to coming home from work in the dark and going TO work in the dark.
I spent the rest of the day after work taking a much-needed nap.
I got a lousy schedule next week. While I still have a lot of hours, they're a lot of LONG hours, and there's one 4PM-12AM days. I wish they'd get it through their heads that I really can't work until 12AM. I can't make a car appear out of thin air, and people can't always haul me around.
Now you know why I'm so desperate to leave this job. I don't want to work 6AM to 2:30PM one day, then 4PM to 12AM the next. I want the same 9 to 5 hours every day, every week, every year. I want the same stable hours, stable job, and stable paycheck. I want to be able to use my writing ability and not go crazy while earning a paycheck.
I want to prove I can enjoy my job, and there is a way to both make money and do something you love.
I just wish I could find that way now.
Life is a lazy river - no matter where you are. Movies, musicals, mysteries, pop culture, and lots of other great stuff.
Friday, August 31, 2007
Thursday, August 30, 2007
My Roommates
Like my older friend Linda Young, I have always been hopelessly addicted to stuffed animals. They were far better friends than most children were when I was younger. I was quiet and shy and preferred reading books or watching TV to running around outside with other kids my age. When I got older and Mom started ordering me outside more, I would go for long, rambling walks on my own instead of hanging out with buddies like my sisters did. My walks usually took me to Cape May's Washington Street Mall. I'd look wistfully at the expensive stuffed toys in the small toy shop in the indoor mall, then head a block down from the mall to the small yellow Cape May City Library, where I'd settle in for the afternoon reading The Babysitters' Club or fairy tales or Nancy Drew.
Oh, I had dolls, too, Lady LovelyLocks and Jem and Barbies and She-Ra, though I never got into baby dolls the way my sisters did. What could you do with a baby? They weren't fuzzy or fun to hold, most of them didn't have hair to brush, and you couldn't create fantastic stories with them. Besides, I'd seen my sisters when they were real babies, and they weren't a whole lot of fun to take care of.
Unlike my sisters, who gladly gave up most of their stuffed toys when they got into their teens, I never let mine go. Oh, I'd give some of them to thrift shops or younger friends over the years, but I can't remember a time when I didn't have stuffed animals. I was particularly fond of teddy bears, both realistic and "cute." They always seemed so happy and cheerful.
I still collect them now. They're my children and my roommates...and probably the only ones I'll have, at the rate I'm going. They all have stories to tell, as much as any human being...
Paddington Bear: Big Paddington is one of the oldest stuffed animals I have, and the largest. I don't remember much about how I got him, but Mom says some great-aunts or grandparents or something bought him from a gift shop in Cape May when the two-foot tall toy was bigger than I was. Nowadays, Paddington's a bit worn and ragged. His blue felt coat is missing buttons, and his yellow hat has holes in it big enough to drive through. He's a lot skinnier than he used to be, too, having been slept on for twenty five years. Even so, he's still one of my babies, and one of the bears I've "dressed" and put under the Christmas tree for as long as we've done it.
Happy: Happy the Floppy Polar Bear brought sunshine into one of the darkest days of my life in early December 2003. Max, my boyfriend of three years, had just e-mailed me that morning to tell me he was breaking up with me. I came out of the shower that evening feeling lower than the floor of the Atlantic when my sister Anny, brother Keefe, and her then-current boyfriend John trooped into the living room. It was a few weeks before Christmas, and a friend of theirs had given John some stuffed animals for his little daughter. I oohed and ahhed over the cute floppy hippo John was going to give to Katie before Anny pulled out her real surprise - a polar bear with a big smile done in the same style, with floppy arms and legs. Anny said his name was Happy, and he was for me. They wanted to make me feel better, and they couldn't have picked a better way.
Little Mike and Peter Pup: Mike, a floppy wolf cub Lauren sent me from Massachusetts, and Peter, a golden retriever puppy who came from the thrift shop, were named after Monkee members Mike Nesmith and Peter Tork respectively. One of the running gags in our Monkee role-plays is that tough loner Mike and sweet-natured Peter have been transformed several times into a wolf and a golden retriever by various villains.
Lady: One of my favorite toys when I was little was a stuffed version of Lady, of Lady and the Tramp fame, whom my stepmother and biological father bought from a store on Main Street in Walt Disney World in 1986. I must have talked about her to Max a lot, because his Valentine's Day present for me in 2001 was a new Lady. She is one of two items Max gave me I couldn't bear to part with after we broke up. I'd missed my old Lady too much.
Meowth: And here's the other stuffed animal Max gave me I just couldn't get rid of. On one of our numerous trips to the Hamilton Mall near Atlantic City, I'd admired a huge, two-feet tall stuffed Meowith at what was then called EB Games. Meowth was one of my favorite characters from the Pokemon cartoon, whose Brooklyn accent and used-car-salesman mannerisms never failed to make me laugh. As much as I'd liked him, it still came as a shock on a trip to visit Max's parents a few months later when Max brought out a Christmas present...the very Meowith I'd looked at so often at the mall! It was one of the sweetest things he ever did for me (even on sale, Meowth was one costly kitty!).
Lucy: Lucy, a Beanie-Baby-style pug pup, used to belong to Keefe. When he was little, we'd often pretend that, despite their different breeds, Lucy was Lady's rambunctious "daughter." When I moved into my own apartment after college, he gave me Lucy, insisting that a puppy and her mommy shouldn't be apart.
Chow Yun Fat: Chow Yun's story is one of my favorites. Erica and I were taking out the trash at the thrift shop one night last fall when we heard a noise. It sounded like something talking. Erica heard it first, then suggested we check the bags on top of the trash. In one of the bags, I found a stuffed mechanical panda bear waving his arms and legs, his mouth moving as various bear-like growls and squeaks poured out. I instantly asked Erica if I could keep him. The people who live above the shop must have gotten rid of him, though I don't know why they would. Other than being dirty, there was absolutely nothing wrong with him. His arm, mouth, and head moved fine, and his growls, snorts, and squeals were as clear as day. I ended up taking him (and a plant someone donated for some reason) home for free.
Erica may have been right about him calling for help. A huge thunderstorm passed through that night...one that would have permanently damaged poor Chow Yun's electronic insides if he'd been left out in it!
Birch, Donnie, Daffy Duck, George, Pablo, Erica, and Kurt: These guys all came from the thrift shop. Birch and George are bears. George has odd ears on the side of his head and a goofy smile; I tied a bit of red fabric from the thrift shop around his neck to give his purplish fur some more color. Birch is a small tan and off white bear cub whose color gives him his name. Donnie is an American eagle with big, round eyes and a tuft of fuzzy "feathers" on the top of his head; he's named for Philadelphia Eagles quarterback Donovan McNabb. Erica is a vintage 80s Pound Kitty I found last Christmas and named after my friend Erica who runs the shop. Kurt is a white seal cub I named after male Canadian figure skater Kurt Browning. Pablo is a small but colorful parrot. Daffy was so dirty when I pulled him out of a bag filled with small junky knick-knacks, Erica gave him to me for free. (He's since received a bath in Uncle Ken's washing machine.)
Dawson: Dawson was a birthday present from my mother when I was in high school. He's is a heavy, fuzzy fellow with movable limbs, a huge purple velvet bow around his neck, and a very serious expression. He's one of my older bears and looks it; I've been meaning to fix that one strand of yarn from his paw that came loose for years.
Nala and Copper: I picked up these two in yard sales last year. Copper is a Beanie-ized version of the puppy character from The Fox And The Hound. I believe the Nala is one of the toys released during and after the release of the original The Lion King in 1994. I remember seeing them in stores them. Nala has a grosgrain ribbon "collar" with a pink and green felt flower, and when you squeeze her rear, she makes purring noises.
Lamby and Hugh: Lamby is a newcomer. I won her from a whack-a-mole game at Six Flags Great Escape in July. She's a cute white lamb with a sweet expression and the appropriate curly "wool." Hugh was my present from Lauren last year. Lauren apparently got two identical stuffed kola bears from an eBay auction of Build-A-Bear toys and gave one to me. I named him after Australian actor Hugh Jackman (I already have a Beanie Baby kola named after Mel Gibson).
Mint: One Easter, Mom gave each of her children a pastel stuffed animal she'd found in a display at K-Mart. Rose's was pink; she eventually named her Petunia. Anny's was yellow. Keefe's was blue. He called him George, and he became one of his cherished companions, one of the few stuffed toys the now-fourteen-year-old still has today. Mine was mint green and was dubbed Mint Julep, or just Mint. Mint was one of the few stuffed animals to not only survive high school, but be small enough to come to college with me as well.
(Incidentally, we weren't the only ones who loved those bears. Mom thought they were so cute, she eventually bought herself a lavender rabbit from the same display she named Violet. She also bought a big white stuffed rabbit with a jelly bean print ribbon she named Jelly Bean Bunny, or JB Bunny for short.)
Tails: Tails is a large Tails the Fox, Sonic The Hedgehog's sidekick. My sixteen-year-old sister Jessa said she won him from the Wildwood Boardwalk several years ago. I adopted him when Jessa cleaned out her room last year and got rid of a lot of things, including old toys. (I also acquired a bookcase-style shelf for some of my smaller collectible Beanie Babies and Pokemon from Jessa's room.)
James and Pooh Bear: I had a Pooh when I was little, but he was pretty much loved to death. He vanished long before my teens, so I was happy to find another small Pooh at a yard sale in May. I just bought James, a beautiful bear with big, almost human-like eyes, a big grin, and a red-and-tan checked ribbon, from the thrift shop about two weeks ago.
The Care Bears: My first Care Bear after the line's revival was Cheer Bear, one of several stuffed animals I won from the crane games at Gateway 26 on the Wildwood Boardwalk. My big Tenderheart bear also came from a crane, this one under the Great White wooden roller coaster in the Wild Wheels amusement park on the Boardwalk. I won him while waiting for the Fourth of July fireworks to begin in 2004. Winning him really made my Independence Day; not only were the Care Bears in that machine unusually large for boardwalk crane toys, but he seemed to be the only Tenderheart in the machine, and Tenderheart was my favorite when I was little.
I didn't find the others until I moved. Big and Little Wish Bear and Proud Heart Cat came from the thrift shop. Big Wish Bear just need a washing machine bath to be presentable. Little Wish bear was designed differently from my other small Care Bears, with no moving arms or legs. Grumpy Bear, Share Bear, and Funshine Bear came from yard sales.
Samantha: "Sam" is Samantha Parkington, the Victorian American Girl. I've loved the American Girl series since they were first released, and Samantha was my favorite of the originals. I was thirteen when Mom and Dad finally broke down and bought me Samantha and a couple of outfits for Christmas. I know thirteen is a little old for dolls, but the American Girl dolls are special, beautifully made and designed...and very expensive. Mom probably figured it would be better if I did have her when I was older so I could take care of her better....and I have ever since.
Carrie: Carrie is my first and only Cabbage Patch Kid. Mom had to call her sister in Virginia to find Rose and I Cabbies, since they were so scarce during the Christmas of 1983. Now, how could I give Carrie up after my mother went through all that? Besides, Carrie is the only baby doll I ever really liked having, maybe because she wasn't so "babyish" it bothered me.
Like my older friend Linda Young, I have always been hopelessly addicted to stuffed animals. They were far better friends than most children were when I was younger. I was quiet and shy and preferred reading books or watching TV to running around outside with other kids my age. When I got older and Mom started ordering me outside more, I would go for long, rambling walks on my own instead of hanging out with buddies like my sisters did. My walks usually took me to Cape May's Washington Street Mall. I'd look wistfully at the expensive stuffed toys in the small toy shop in the indoor mall, then head a block down from the mall to the small yellow Cape May City Library, where I'd settle in for the afternoon reading The Babysitters' Club or fairy tales or Nancy Drew.
Oh, I had dolls, too, Lady LovelyLocks and Jem and Barbies and She-Ra, though I never got into baby dolls the way my sisters did. What could you do with a baby? They weren't fuzzy or fun to hold, most of them didn't have hair to brush, and you couldn't create fantastic stories with them. Besides, I'd seen my sisters when they were real babies, and they weren't a whole lot of fun to take care of.
Unlike my sisters, who gladly gave up most of their stuffed toys when they got into their teens, I never let mine go. Oh, I'd give some of them to thrift shops or younger friends over the years, but I can't remember a time when I didn't have stuffed animals. I was particularly fond of teddy bears, both realistic and "cute." They always seemed so happy and cheerful.
I still collect them now. They're my children and my roommates...and probably the only ones I'll have, at the rate I'm going. They all have stories to tell, as much as any human being...
Paddington Bear: Big Paddington is one of the oldest stuffed animals I have, and the largest. I don't remember much about how I got him, but Mom says some great-aunts or grandparents or something bought him from a gift shop in Cape May when the two-foot tall toy was bigger than I was. Nowadays, Paddington's a bit worn and ragged. His blue felt coat is missing buttons, and his yellow hat has holes in it big enough to drive through. He's a lot skinnier than he used to be, too, having been slept on for twenty five years. Even so, he's still one of my babies, and one of the bears I've "dressed" and put under the Christmas tree for as long as we've done it.
Happy: Happy the Floppy Polar Bear brought sunshine into one of the darkest days of my life in early December 2003. Max, my boyfriend of three years, had just e-mailed me that morning to tell me he was breaking up with me. I came out of the shower that evening feeling lower than the floor of the Atlantic when my sister Anny, brother Keefe, and her then-current boyfriend John trooped into the living room. It was a few weeks before Christmas, and a friend of theirs had given John some stuffed animals for his little daughter. I oohed and ahhed over the cute floppy hippo John was going to give to Katie before Anny pulled out her real surprise - a polar bear with a big smile done in the same style, with floppy arms and legs. Anny said his name was Happy, and he was for me. They wanted to make me feel better, and they couldn't have picked a better way.
Little Mike and Peter Pup: Mike, a floppy wolf cub Lauren sent me from Massachusetts, and Peter, a golden retriever puppy who came from the thrift shop, were named after Monkee members Mike Nesmith and Peter Tork respectively. One of the running gags in our Monkee role-plays is that tough loner Mike and sweet-natured Peter have been transformed several times into a wolf and a golden retriever by various villains.
Lady: One of my favorite toys when I was little was a stuffed version of Lady, of Lady and the Tramp fame, whom my stepmother and biological father bought from a store on Main Street in Walt Disney World in 1986. I must have talked about her to Max a lot, because his Valentine's Day present for me in 2001 was a new Lady. She is one of two items Max gave me I couldn't bear to part with after we broke up. I'd missed my old Lady too much.
Meowth: And here's the other stuffed animal Max gave me I just couldn't get rid of. On one of our numerous trips to the Hamilton Mall near Atlantic City, I'd admired a huge, two-feet tall stuffed Meowith at what was then called EB Games. Meowth was one of my favorite characters from the Pokemon cartoon, whose Brooklyn accent and used-car-salesman mannerisms never failed to make me laugh. As much as I'd liked him, it still came as a shock on a trip to visit Max's parents a few months later when Max brought out a Christmas present...the very Meowith I'd looked at so often at the mall! It was one of the sweetest things he ever did for me (even on sale, Meowth was one costly kitty!).
Lucy: Lucy, a Beanie-Baby-style pug pup, used to belong to Keefe. When he was little, we'd often pretend that, despite their different breeds, Lucy was Lady's rambunctious "daughter." When I moved into my own apartment after college, he gave me Lucy, insisting that a puppy and her mommy shouldn't be apart.
Chow Yun Fat: Chow Yun's story is one of my favorites. Erica and I were taking out the trash at the thrift shop one night last fall when we heard a noise. It sounded like something talking. Erica heard it first, then suggested we check the bags on top of the trash. In one of the bags, I found a stuffed mechanical panda bear waving his arms and legs, his mouth moving as various bear-like growls and squeaks poured out. I instantly asked Erica if I could keep him. The people who live above the shop must have gotten rid of him, though I don't know why they would. Other than being dirty, there was absolutely nothing wrong with him. His arm, mouth, and head moved fine, and his growls, snorts, and squeals were as clear as day. I ended up taking him (and a plant someone donated for some reason) home for free.
Erica may have been right about him calling for help. A huge thunderstorm passed through that night...one that would have permanently damaged poor Chow Yun's electronic insides if he'd been left out in it!
Birch, Donnie, Daffy Duck, George, Pablo, Erica, and Kurt: These guys all came from the thrift shop. Birch and George are bears. George has odd ears on the side of his head and a goofy smile; I tied a bit of red fabric from the thrift shop around his neck to give his purplish fur some more color. Birch is a small tan and off white bear cub whose color gives him his name. Donnie is an American eagle with big, round eyes and a tuft of fuzzy "feathers" on the top of his head; he's named for Philadelphia Eagles quarterback Donovan McNabb. Erica is a vintage 80s Pound Kitty I found last Christmas and named after my friend Erica who runs the shop. Kurt is a white seal cub I named after male Canadian figure skater Kurt Browning. Pablo is a small but colorful parrot. Daffy was so dirty when I pulled him out of a bag filled with small junky knick-knacks, Erica gave him to me for free. (He's since received a bath in Uncle Ken's washing machine.)
Dawson: Dawson was a birthday present from my mother when I was in high school. He's is a heavy, fuzzy fellow with movable limbs, a huge purple velvet bow around his neck, and a very serious expression. He's one of my older bears and looks it; I've been meaning to fix that one strand of yarn from his paw that came loose for years.
Nala and Copper: I picked up these two in yard sales last year. Copper is a Beanie-ized version of the puppy character from The Fox And The Hound. I believe the Nala is one of the toys released during and after the release of the original The Lion King in 1994. I remember seeing them in stores them. Nala has a grosgrain ribbon "collar" with a pink and green felt flower, and when you squeeze her rear, she makes purring noises.
Lamby and Hugh: Lamby is a newcomer. I won her from a whack-a-mole game at Six Flags Great Escape in July. She's a cute white lamb with a sweet expression and the appropriate curly "wool." Hugh was my present from Lauren last year. Lauren apparently got two identical stuffed kola bears from an eBay auction of Build-A-Bear toys and gave one to me. I named him after Australian actor Hugh Jackman (I already have a Beanie Baby kola named after Mel Gibson).
Mint: One Easter, Mom gave each of her children a pastel stuffed animal she'd found in a display at K-Mart. Rose's was pink; she eventually named her Petunia. Anny's was yellow. Keefe's was blue. He called him George, and he became one of his cherished companions, one of the few stuffed toys the now-fourteen-year-old still has today. Mine was mint green and was dubbed Mint Julep, or just Mint. Mint was one of the few stuffed animals to not only survive high school, but be small enough to come to college with me as well.
(Incidentally, we weren't the only ones who loved those bears. Mom thought they were so cute, she eventually bought herself a lavender rabbit from the same display she named Violet. She also bought a big white stuffed rabbit with a jelly bean print ribbon she named Jelly Bean Bunny, or JB Bunny for short.)
Tails: Tails is a large Tails the Fox, Sonic The Hedgehog's sidekick. My sixteen-year-old sister Jessa said she won him from the Wildwood Boardwalk several years ago. I adopted him when Jessa cleaned out her room last year and got rid of a lot of things, including old toys. (I also acquired a bookcase-style shelf for some of my smaller collectible Beanie Babies and Pokemon from Jessa's room.)
James and Pooh Bear: I had a Pooh when I was little, but he was pretty much loved to death. He vanished long before my teens, so I was happy to find another small Pooh at a yard sale in May. I just bought James, a beautiful bear with big, almost human-like eyes, a big grin, and a red-and-tan checked ribbon, from the thrift shop about two weeks ago.
The Care Bears: My first Care Bear after the line's revival was Cheer Bear, one of several stuffed animals I won from the crane games at Gateway 26 on the Wildwood Boardwalk. My big Tenderheart bear also came from a crane, this one under the Great White wooden roller coaster in the Wild Wheels amusement park on the Boardwalk. I won him while waiting for the Fourth of July fireworks to begin in 2004. Winning him really made my Independence Day; not only were the Care Bears in that machine unusually large for boardwalk crane toys, but he seemed to be the only Tenderheart in the machine, and Tenderheart was my favorite when I was little.
I didn't find the others until I moved. Big and Little Wish Bear and Proud Heart Cat came from the thrift shop. Big Wish Bear just need a washing machine bath to be presentable. Little Wish bear was designed differently from my other small Care Bears, with no moving arms or legs. Grumpy Bear, Share Bear, and Funshine Bear came from yard sales.
Samantha: "Sam" is Samantha Parkington, the Victorian American Girl. I've loved the American Girl series since they were first released, and Samantha was my favorite of the originals. I was thirteen when Mom and Dad finally broke down and bought me Samantha and a couple of outfits for Christmas. I know thirteen is a little old for dolls, but the American Girl dolls are special, beautifully made and designed...and very expensive. Mom probably figured it would be better if I did have her when I was older so I could take care of her better....and I have ever since.
Carrie: Carrie is my first and only Cabbage Patch Kid. Mom had to call her sister in Virginia to find Rose and I Cabbies, since they were so scarce during the Christmas of 1983. Now, how could I give Carrie up after my mother went through all that? Besides, Carrie is the only baby doll I ever really liked having, maybe because she wasn't so "babyish" it bothered me.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Job Searching
I spent the morning doing job search and the rest of the day at work. Work was occasionally busy, but mostly dead...for eight hours. I really, REALLY wish they'd give me more consistent hours. Give me all eight hour days or all four hour days, give me all mornings or all evenings. Make up your damn minds.
The job searching this morning did not go well. Everything that interests me wants more experience than I have, which was the problem the last time I did a job search. Most of the listings I saw for "entry level positions" were so fake it wasn't funny.
I wish I knew what I could do. I want to write...but what can I do with writing? How can I turn writing into a viable career that will net me a stable, 9-5 job and still allow me to be creative?
I spent the morning doing job search and the rest of the day at work. Work was occasionally busy, but mostly dead...for eight hours. I really, REALLY wish they'd give me more consistent hours. Give me all eight hour days or all four hour days, give me all mornings or all evenings. Make up your damn minds.
The job searching this morning did not go well. Everything that interests me wants more experience than I have, which was the problem the last time I did a job search. Most of the listings I saw for "entry level positions" were so fake it wasn't funny.
I wish I knew what I could do. I want to write...but what can I do with writing? How can I turn writing into a viable career that will net me a stable, 9-5 job and still allow me to be creative?
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
The First Place You Need To Search Is Inside Yourself
I know Lauren's right.
I wish I knew what I wanted. I thought I wanted to write. That's all I've been told since childhood - you're gonna be a writer. You're a good writer. You should be a writer. They never said "you should be a carpenter" or "you should be a doctor." They said "you should be a writer."
Trouble is, I don't know what I want to do with that.
I'm scared to death I'll get lost in some fancy Fortune 500 company that would take one look at someone like me and laugh their heads off. Even my customers don't take me seriously. Everyone laughs when I tell them I want a real job.
I want to find a way to be creative and still have a regular, paying job. Aren't there any jobs that require you to be creative while providing you with a nice, simple 9-to-5 workday and a nice, normal, regular paycheck? Can't I do what I like and still have normal hours and not have to troop all the way over to the Philadelphia suburbs to do it?
I did a lot of thinking during my swim at my uncle's today while my laundry was in the drier. I know I have to move on, but it's so HARD. I want out of the Acme, preferably now, but how can I get out if I don't even know what I want? If I can't write, what is there for me?
I never thought of being a businesswoman. Business always seems so boring. My older friend Linda Young is always complaining about her boring job behind a desk in some shipping business.
Hospitals and medical work is out. They make me so nervous, and I know nothing whatsoever about medicine or hospitals.
I wish I knew what I COULD do. What does a writer do when she can't write?
I know Lauren's right.
I wish I knew what I wanted. I thought I wanted to write. That's all I've been told since childhood - you're gonna be a writer. You're a good writer. You should be a writer. They never said "you should be a carpenter" or "you should be a doctor." They said "you should be a writer."
Trouble is, I don't know what I want to do with that.
I'm scared to death I'll get lost in some fancy Fortune 500 company that would take one look at someone like me and laugh their heads off. Even my customers don't take me seriously. Everyone laughs when I tell them I want a real job.
I want to find a way to be creative and still have a regular, paying job. Aren't there any jobs that require you to be creative while providing you with a nice, simple 9-to-5 workday and a nice, normal, regular paycheck? Can't I do what I like and still have normal hours and not have to troop all the way over to the Philadelphia suburbs to do it?
I did a lot of thinking during my swim at my uncle's today while my laundry was in the drier. I know I have to move on, but it's so HARD. I want out of the Acme, preferably now, but how can I get out if I don't even know what I want? If I can't write, what is there for me?
I never thought of being a businesswoman. Business always seems so boring. My older friend Linda Young is always complaining about her boring job behind a desk in some shipping business.
Hospitals and medical work is out. They make me so nervous, and I know nothing whatsoever about medicine or hospitals.
I wish I knew what I COULD do. What does a writer do when she can't write?
Monday, August 27, 2007
Summertime...And The Livin's Easy
A nice, quiet day today, which I appreciate, given what my hours are like later in the week. I worked early, 10AM to 3PM. A few cranky customers and one cracked jar of mayo (thank goodness it was the plastic Kraft Mayo), otherwise on-and-off busy, no major problems.
Today was also gorgeous, hot but not above the norm for August in New Jersey, with low humidity. It was such a nice day that I did my pilates routine outside after I swept the porch. I don't know if I'll do it again. The change of scenery was nice, but I got covered in mosquito bites.
Oh, and I forgot to mention something I saw Thursday night. I kept hearing these noisy thumps on my porch. I thought it might be burglars, but I'm in the back of a house on a well-protected dead-end side street in a small town. I then decided it was very fat squirrels and shrugged it off. It continued on and off for a couple of hours. I was going to the bathroom when I happened to peek out the window and discover what was making the racket. A pair of huge raccoons were playing on my porch! My landlady Miss Ellie told me when I moved in last year that there were raccoons in this area, but I'd never seen them until Thursday night. As long as they stay out of my trash, I welcome them as much as I would any neighbor, fuzzy or human.
A nice, quiet day today, which I appreciate, given what my hours are like later in the week. I worked early, 10AM to 3PM. A few cranky customers and one cracked jar of mayo (thank goodness it was the plastic Kraft Mayo), otherwise on-and-off busy, no major problems.
Today was also gorgeous, hot but not above the norm for August in New Jersey, with low humidity. It was such a nice day that I did my pilates routine outside after I swept the porch. I don't know if I'll do it again. The change of scenery was nice, but I got covered in mosquito bites.
Oh, and I forgot to mention something I saw Thursday night. I kept hearing these noisy thumps on my porch. I thought it might be burglars, but I'm in the back of a house on a well-protected dead-end side street in a small town. I then decided it was very fat squirrels and shrugged it off. It continued on and off for a couple of hours. I was going to the bathroom when I happened to peek out the window and discover what was making the racket. A pair of huge raccoons were playing on my porch! My landlady Miss Ellie told me when I moved in last year that there were raccoons in this area, but I'd never seen them until Thursday night. As long as they stay out of my trash, I welcome them as much as I would any neighbor, fuzzy or human.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
The Times They Are A Changin'
I had early (9AM) work today. We had some cranky customers, probably due to the continuing heat, but things were generally busy but not problematic.
I spent the afternoon watching the original 1988 Hairspray and working on little things on my computer. I'd only seen Hairspray once or twice on cable, just bits and pieces. Despite the PG rating, this is for slightly older kids than the remake (there's a rather weird zit-popping scene, a riot in an amusement park, and lots and lots of references to insects in the finale), but it's still fun. The original film has some interesting characters that didn't make it into any subsequent versions (the fathers of Amber Von Tussle and Penny Pingleton, the bigoted station owner) and a wonderful soundtrack of real 50s and early 60s dance hits (which I have on CD).
The other big news came towards the end of the day. I made my usual Sunday call to my mother in North Cape May. After almost twelve years in the same house behind the WaWa (and almost 30 years of renting houses in the Cape May/Lower Township area), she and my stepfather have finally decided to buy a house in the Villas area of Lower Township, near the Cape May County Airport. It's apparently a small, brand-new house in a quiet neighborhood where a few friends of Mom's live. They want to have everything done and ready by December, meaning they won't have the money to do Thanksgiving or Christmas at their house this year.
On one hand, I'm happy for them. I know Mom's been wanting to move out of North Cape May for years. The house they currently live in needs many repairs, the neighborhood isn't what it was when we moved in, and they don't really need and can't keep up with their huge yard. Mom and my stepdad are getting older, Keefe's only going to be around for a few more years (and isn't home much anyway), and little Skylar isn't around all the time.
On the other hand, this leaves me in a bit of a bind for the holidays. I've never spent Thanksgiving anywhere but with my family, and Christmas on my own did not go all that well last year. I really don't want to spend either by myself, but I may not have a choice if everyone else is busy.
This is when I really start to feel alone. I wish I could host Thanksgiving. I wish I had a family of my own to spend holidays with, so I wouldn't have to worry about going over to someone's house or the other and feeling out of place. Holidays weren't made for single people.
I had early (9AM) work today. We had some cranky customers, probably due to the continuing heat, but things were generally busy but not problematic.
I spent the afternoon watching the original 1988 Hairspray and working on little things on my computer. I'd only seen Hairspray once or twice on cable, just bits and pieces. Despite the PG rating, this is for slightly older kids than the remake (there's a rather weird zit-popping scene, a riot in an amusement park, and lots and lots of references to insects in the finale), but it's still fun. The original film has some interesting characters that didn't make it into any subsequent versions (the fathers of Amber Von Tussle and Penny Pingleton, the bigoted station owner) and a wonderful soundtrack of real 50s and early 60s dance hits (which I have on CD).
The other big news came towards the end of the day. I made my usual Sunday call to my mother in North Cape May. After almost twelve years in the same house behind the WaWa (and almost 30 years of renting houses in the Cape May/Lower Township area), she and my stepfather have finally decided to buy a house in the Villas area of Lower Township, near the Cape May County Airport. It's apparently a small, brand-new house in a quiet neighborhood where a few friends of Mom's live. They want to have everything done and ready by December, meaning they won't have the money to do Thanksgiving or Christmas at their house this year.
On one hand, I'm happy for them. I know Mom's been wanting to move out of North Cape May for years. The house they currently live in needs many repairs, the neighborhood isn't what it was when we moved in, and they don't really need and can't keep up with their huge yard. Mom and my stepdad are getting older, Keefe's only going to be around for a few more years (and isn't home much anyway), and little Skylar isn't around all the time.
On the other hand, this leaves me in a bit of a bind for the holidays. I've never spent Thanksgiving anywhere but with my family, and Christmas on my own did not go all that well last year. I really don't want to spend either by myself, but I may not have a choice if everyone else is busy.
This is when I really start to feel alone. I wish I could host Thanksgiving. I wish I had a family of my own to spend holidays with, so I wouldn't have to worry about going over to someone's house or the other and feeling out of place. Holidays weren't made for single people.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
How To...Get Out Of A Job You Hate
Lauren says I'm too picky. Picky about what? I just don't want to end up in a job I don't like again. I've spent six years trying to find a better job than the grocery store, and I'm starting to think it isn't possible. Maybe all I'm good for is replacing the older women when they can't work in the mornings.
People don't take six years getting out of college to find a job. Why go to college if it's going to take you six years to find a real job?
I'm sick and tired of the Acme. I'm tired of feeling like I owe the stupid union something, just because I'd get treated even worse if they weren't there. I'm tired of working 38 hours one week, 19 hours the next. I'm tired of the obnoxious, stupid, spoiled customers. I'm tired of feeling like the only single, childless 28-year-old in the entire company.
I'm so scared. Every time I look for a job, nothing ever pans out. I go from office to office, giving everyone the same spiel and the same resume. I post my resumes at every major job site. I tell everyone I know I'm looking for a good, solid job. I check the paper. I put in applications.
And, of course, nothing happens. I get turned down. I'm not right. They went with other options. They want their best friend or their boyfriend or someone they've known them for years.
What if I'm doing this forever? What if I'm still trapped doing the same thing when I'm 80?
I want the same thing everyone else has. I want regular, normal hours. I want regular, normal days I can count on and plan around. I want co-workers I can talk to and relate to, who can talk to and relate to me. I want to feel like I belong, like I'm part of a real group. I want to be able to run to the farm market and do all my Saturday chores without rushing.
I love the farm market. I love doing my Saturday chores. I just don't like only having a few hours to do them in.
Lauren says I'm too picky. Picky about what? I just don't want to end up in a job I don't like again. I've spent six years trying to find a better job than the grocery store, and I'm starting to think it isn't possible. Maybe all I'm good for is replacing the older women when they can't work in the mornings.
People don't take six years getting out of college to find a job. Why go to college if it's going to take you six years to find a real job?
I'm sick and tired of the Acme. I'm tired of feeling like I owe the stupid union something, just because I'd get treated even worse if they weren't there. I'm tired of working 38 hours one week, 19 hours the next. I'm tired of the obnoxious, stupid, spoiled customers. I'm tired of feeling like the only single, childless 28-year-old in the entire company.
I'm so scared. Every time I look for a job, nothing ever pans out. I go from office to office, giving everyone the same spiel and the same resume. I post my resumes at every major job site. I tell everyone I know I'm looking for a good, solid job. I check the paper. I put in applications.
And, of course, nothing happens. I get turned down. I'm not right. They went with other options. They want their best friend or their boyfriend or someone they've known them for years.
What if I'm doing this forever? What if I'm still trapped doing the same thing when I'm 80?
I want the same thing everyone else has. I want regular, normal hours. I want regular, normal days I can count on and plan around. I want co-workers I can talk to and relate to, who can talk to and relate to me. I want to feel like I belong, like I'm part of a real group. I want to be able to run to the farm market and do all my Saturday chores without rushing.
I love the farm market. I love doing my Saturday chores. I just don't like only having a few hours to do them in.
Friday, August 24, 2007
Playing The Company Way
Mostly just worked today...and that will probably be all I do for the majority of next week, as I have almost 38 hours. I really wish they'd be more consistent with my hours. I'd love to have all morning hours or all afternoon hours, not 3PM on Thursday, then 6AM on Friday. It's a pain in the rear and it makes it practically impossible to plan things.
Other than laundry and Saturday chores, I'll spend most of next week doing work on my Monkees fanfic The Monkee Knight, which I haven't gotten to in a while. I imagine we'll be starting the role-play soon, too. We have a whole plethora of ideas going through next fall we're dying to write.
Mostly just worked today...and that will probably be all I do for the majority of next week, as I have almost 38 hours. I really wish they'd be more consistent with my hours. I'd love to have all morning hours or all afternoon hours, not 3PM on Thursday, then 6AM on Friday. It's a pain in the rear and it makes it practically impossible to plan things.
Other than laundry and Saturday chores, I'll spend most of next week doing work on my Monkees fanfic The Monkee Knight, which I haven't gotten to in a while. I imagine we'll be starting the role-play soon, too. We have a whole plethora of ideas going through next fall we're dying to write.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Hot Child In The City
Whew, what a LOOONG day! I did return everything I needed to return to the Camden County Library, including my volunteering papers. After that, I headed to the thrift shop, where I helped another volunteer, Grace, put out lighter winter clothes.
I'm still kicking myself for thinking my counseling appointment was at 2PM instead of 1PM. I know, most people said it wasn't a big deal, but I look forward to talking to Scott, and it makes me feel so immature and irresponsible when I do things like this! A real adult wouldn't forget something as important as a counseling appointment.
I did go into Philadelphia, though...and I forgot to ask Barnes and Noble about a job, too. On the other hand, I did buy the original Broadway casts of How To Succeed In Business Without Even Trying and Once Upon a Mattress and the rare Finian's Rainbow movie soundtrack from a record/used book store on 10th Street. (Turn down Fred Astaire's last appearance in a non-documentary musical?) I also picked up another Paige Turner book, Murder On A Hot Tin Roof and a new journal from Barnes and Noble.
Whew, what a LOOONG day! I did return everything I needed to return to the Camden County Library, including my volunteering papers. After that, I headed to the thrift shop, where I helped another volunteer, Grace, put out lighter winter clothes.
I'm still kicking myself for thinking my counseling appointment was at 2PM instead of 1PM. I know, most people said it wasn't a big deal, but I look forward to talking to Scott, and it makes me feel so immature and irresponsible when I do things like this! A real adult wouldn't forget something as important as a counseling appointment.
I did go into Philadelphia, though...and I forgot to ask Barnes and Noble about a job, too. On the other hand, I did buy the original Broadway casts of How To Succeed In Business Without Even Trying and Once Upon a Mattress and the rare Finian's Rainbow movie soundtrack from a record/used book store on 10th Street. (Turn down Fred Astaire's last appearance in a non-documentary musical?) I also picked up another Paige Turner book, Murder On A Hot Tin Roof and a new journal from Barnes and Noble.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Summer Cold
Ugh. I think I'm getting a cold. It was probably inevitable, given all the time I spend walking in and out of full-blast air conditioning. My nose is runny, my eyes are itchy, my throat is sore (though it's better than it was yesterday), and I have a headache.
Other than that, nothing thrilling today. I still haven't made it to the library, but I did send Mom the pictures from Skylar's birthday party. I think I may have accidentally sent her my copies too, though. Oops. I'll have to see if I can get her to send them back. I did a little bit of work on The Monkee Knight this morning.
Work was steady, with no major problems other than a few missing coupons. I'm off tomorrow, which is good, because tomorrow is going to be busy - I need to get those papers to the library, I have volunteering and counseling, and I'm hoping to get into Philadelphia if the weather holds out.
Ugh. I think I'm getting a cold. It was probably inevitable, given all the time I spend walking in and out of full-blast air conditioning. My nose is runny, my eyes are itchy, my throat is sore (though it's better than it was yesterday), and I have a headache.
Other than that, nothing thrilling today. I still haven't made it to the library, but I did send Mom the pictures from Skylar's birthday party. I think I may have accidentally sent her my copies too, though. Oops. I'll have to see if I can get her to send them back. I did a little bit of work on The Monkee Knight this morning.
Work was steady, with no major problems other than a few missing coupons. I'm off tomorrow, which is good, because tomorrow is going to be busy - I need to get those papers to the library, I have volunteering and counseling, and I'm hoping to get into Philadelphia if the weather holds out.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)