in which i babble, and x-post from OD
i want to write, but i have no words.
or nothing to SAY.
there is only the job hunt, it seems like.
search, search, search.
i want to stay up all night and job hunt, but if i try to write a cover letter while on kava and sleep-deprived, i don't think that'll be a good thing.
"just hire me, mmmkay?"
going to call on a part time job working with kids with disabilities. love it in hypothesis, but it's a 45-minute commute each way.
but i'd be doing Something That Matters, and sometimes that means more than the paycheck.
sent in an online application for a customer representative for blue cross/blue shield of minnesota. the pay would be decent - not much lower than what i was making - but ... *pride withers a little more* ... it's a customer service representative. for INSURANCE.
*whispers* it sounds boring.
my ear itches. i got my conch pierced about a week and a half ago. it's healing well, but has some crusties today.
be glad i've spared you all the crusty reports. christy, too, has her conch pierced (opposite side), and we compare notes sometimes.
i am also going to apply - *sigh* - for a waitress/kitchen staff thing at a little pizza joint not far from me, as well as a pasta plant production job.
not looking down on the job itself, or folks that do any of this, but there's part of me going, "i got my college degree for THIS?"
want to go to oregon.
but there's practicality, and stuff.
i need money now.
i'd love to be a gypsy and drift around and take random little odd jobs and donate plasma and stuff.
it's romantic, that.
but i have a clinic bill and hospital bill to pay off. plus a fuel bill, i think, that i'd forgotten about. plus i'm like a month behind on my regular bills.
my zine is calling me, but the september unemployment deadline is, too. want to write. have some good stuff written for the next edition. but ... yeah. it's like, "no having fun. uh-uh. search."
my mom said i should write bird lady's memoirs while i'm off.
truth be told, i've thought about that.
bring a tape recorder and have her tell me stories and such.
i've written a lot of things down in another diary, a private one.
mehitabel, she is. there's a dance in the old dame yet.
i'm a beer bitch, it seems like.
$1 drafts make me want to retch. mich golden, bud light ... blah.
no.
i want good brewed beer.
i've been craving an ipa for a couple of days.
tonight i've been craving about six ipa's.
i'd like to be drunk. not thinking.
alex and his mom have offered me room if i don't get a job by unemployment run-out time.
i could.
but then i'd have to deal with parents squawking, "you're living with a boy."
and i don't know. if i've got all these bills over my head, can i/should i go now?
too much to think about.
too many people that will be hurt, no matter what i do.
i drove around tonight, beneath the cloudy sky.
there was lightning to the north of me.
wind around me.
exhaustion in my feet.
i had to walk. needed to move. sitting, sitting.
it is strange to be alone.
i had alex for a month or so.
christy for a week-plus.
now i am back here. and back here alone.
the cat has at least been funny. and snuggly.
warm kittehs do wonders for the soul. you know?
she had a mouse in her mouth the other night, and then dropped it. it ran off, and i don't know if she caught it again. maybe it's somewhere, broken and rotten, or it got away.
i am wearing a t-shirt i bought from wal-mart for $5. it is brown and has an imperial storm-trooper on the front. i have a white bandana on my head, three hoop earrings in each lobe, my conch, and two helixes on the left.
i feel butch.
why is it if a girl is self-sufficient, she is called butch?
but i'm sure as hell not femme.
i am low maintenance. can get ready to go out before most boys OR girls.
*sigh*
maybe i AM butch.
but being pigeonholed annoys me.
i wore a red gown for a few minutes this week. it was a strapless top and a long, flowing skirt.
i felt pretty.
but then instead of the red top, i wanted to have a black pleather halter corset putting my breasts on display and bitch boots instead of sandals.
i am a bad-ass mothereffer and don't take no crap from nobody.
did anybody else see that movie?
never mind.
am i not pretty enough/is my heart too broken...
i just put on my playlist. that can be dangerous. it makes me think.
right now, the cast of "rent" sings "seasons of love."
so many songs put is in a time and place.
a concert held at the high school. the choir, in white tops and dark bottoms, stands in the center of the velvet-flanked stage and the song flows out across the faces glowing in the dark.
it's beautiful.
and sad.
525,600 minutes/525,000 moments so dear/525,600 minutes/how do you measure/measure a year/in daylights and sunset/in midnights and cups of coffee...
so many years. i sat in those chairs as a student and watched that director move her arms so crisply and knew friends standing on the stage, and now how many years (minutes?) later i know few if any kids there but the song puts me in the same place and i love it and i hate it and i've changed and nothing's changed.
it's strange.
ghosts.
my new nickname is macgyver. i name rocks and tell time by the sun and name flowers and bird calls and berries. and change oil and air up my tires. and stuff.
but i'm not that smart. my lip has a blister. cheese from pizza rolls fell out and it was broiling hot and it smarts. eeees OW.
pride: if you're so smart, why don't you have a job?
well.
the minnesota job bank site has 19,000-some jobs and 60,000 resumes posted.
it's not ALL me.
my.
pink, "dear diary" just came on my playlist.
dear, dear diary/i wanna tell my secrets/i know you'll keep them/this is what i've done...
secrets.
it's strange how much emotional exhibitionism we can have here, but keep so much hidden.
some people can bare their souls but keep their names completely anonymous.
others talk about everything in their lives but what they feel.
i don't know which i am.
i keep secrets, though.
i'm an introvert. that's what i do.
bah. having the playlist on messes up my train of thought.
at this hour of the morning, that's not all that difficult anyways.
shhh, playlist.
i want to lay in bed and dream.
maybe sleep and dream, but it'd be nice to dream dream again, too.
to believe that i can make a difference, and that who i am and what i do matters. that i can leave a little mark on the world.
but i'm not so sure of that.
not sure of where i belong.
heart and duty and dreams and desire ... it gets all messy when you frappe it up.
but that's life, isn't it? everything's all muddled and we grope our way along the best we can.
it's like being by lake superior.
christy and i were standing by the lakewalk at about 10:30 or so, watching as the sky darkened into night.
and you lose the definition between land and air and sky.
but it's beautiful.
maybe hearts are like that.
you have thoughts and hopes, but duty and dreams and desire all blend so you don't know which is which.
but even in confusion, there's beauty.
right?
cousin jenni called me today and said she and another girl from her church were going to have an intervention of sorts with a third girl.
see, said third girl had been laying on the couch with her boyfriend.
which jenni adroitly assumed likely meant spooning.
but we can't have that, you know.
spooning, and touching and such.
could lead to bad situations.
sitting, sure.
apparently the girl dresses in tight clothes and the boy is a "player." both have made a commitment to not have sex till they're married, so jenni and her friend want to call them on this concern. not mocking that.
i wouldn't be snarky about it if jenni hadn't woken me up in the middle of the night last summer with her hands all over me. and i called her on it a few weeks later, and she gave me some stupid answer.
and maybe she HAS changed since then.
but let she who is without sin, much?
people are strange.
especially since she keeps saying, "gwen, come live with me!"
um. no.
i stay here. or go to the cities. or oregon. duluth, if i could find something.
not des moines.
been there.
have been surfing legal secretary ads. most want experience, though, which sucketh. i could do all of it, but not without the experience.
an intellectual property firm was looking for a secretary with that experience.
i was having a geekgasm until christy pointed out i'd be the "anti-napster."
i was envisioning the interview:
"have you ever downloaded a song?"
"define download."
"clicked the button?"
"plead the fifth."
"stolen bandwidth?"
"um? didn't know hotlinking was bad etiquette?"
"have you ever mocked the RIAA's random lawsuits?"
"define mocked?"
"ADMIT IT! YOU'RE AN INTERNET PIRATE!"
"AIIIIYEEEE!!" *runs from the room*
yeah.
OK.
never mind. not as funny as i like to think i am.
's ok though.
too tired to sleep.
nowhere near awake enough to jobhunt anymore.
oh. yes. i applied for a kennel attendant position at the local humane society. it's part time gruntwork, i'm sure, but ... yeah. my inner do-gooder liked the idea. bits of money and puppy and kitteh loves.
sad, too. but happies to maybe helpa little.
ands tuff.s
stillmore stuff tos ay, i think.
meh.
ok. can't type anymore.
time to go.
or nothing to SAY.
there is only the job hunt, it seems like.
search, search, search.
i want to stay up all night and job hunt, but if i try to write a cover letter while on kava and sleep-deprived, i don't think that'll be a good thing.
"just hire me, mmmkay?"
going to call on a part time job working with kids with disabilities. love it in hypothesis, but it's a 45-minute commute each way.
but i'd be doing Something That Matters, and sometimes that means more than the paycheck.
sent in an online application for a customer representative for blue cross/blue shield of minnesota. the pay would be decent - not much lower than what i was making - but ... *pride withers a little more* ... it's a customer service representative. for INSURANCE.
*whispers* it sounds boring.
my ear itches. i got my conch pierced about a week and a half ago. it's healing well, but has some crusties today.
be glad i've spared you all the crusty reports. christy, too, has her conch pierced (opposite side), and we compare notes sometimes.
i am also going to apply - *sigh* - for a waitress/kitchen staff thing at a little pizza joint not far from me, as well as a pasta plant production job.
not looking down on the job itself, or folks that do any of this, but there's part of me going, "i got my college degree for THIS?"
want to go to oregon.
but there's practicality, and stuff.
i need money now.
i'd love to be a gypsy and drift around and take random little odd jobs and donate plasma and stuff.
it's romantic, that.
but i have a clinic bill and hospital bill to pay off. plus a fuel bill, i think, that i'd forgotten about. plus i'm like a month behind on my regular bills.
my zine is calling me, but the september unemployment deadline is, too. want to write. have some good stuff written for the next edition. but ... yeah. it's like, "no having fun. uh-uh. search."
my mom said i should write bird lady's memoirs while i'm off.
truth be told, i've thought about that.
bring a tape recorder and have her tell me stories and such.
i've written a lot of things down in another diary, a private one.
mehitabel, she is. there's a dance in the old dame yet.
i'm a beer bitch, it seems like.
$1 drafts make me want to retch. mich golden, bud light ... blah.
no.
i want good brewed beer.
i've been craving an ipa for a couple of days.
tonight i've been craving about six ipa's.
i'd like to be drunk. not thinking.
alex and his mom have offered me room if i don't get a job by unemployment run-out time.
i could.
but then i'd have to deal with parents squawking, "you're living with a boy."
and i don't know. if i've got all these bills over my head, can i/should i go now?
too much to think about.
too many people that will be hurt, no matter what i do.
i drove around tonight, beneath the cloudy sky.
there was lightning to the north of me.
wind around me.
exhaustion in my feet.
i had to walk. needed to move. sitting, sitting.
it is strange to be alone.
i had alex for a month or so.
christy for a week-plus.
now i am back here. and back here alone.
the cat has at least been funny. and snuggly.
warm kittehs do wonders for the soul. you know?
she had a mouse in her mouth the other night, and then dropped it. it ran off, and i don't know if she caught it again. maybe it's somewhere, broken and rotten, or it got away.
i am wearing a t-shirt i bought from wal-mart for $5. it is brown and has an imperial storm-trooper on the front. i have a white bandana on my head, three hoop earrings in each lobe, my conch, and two helixes on the left.
i feel butch.
why is it if a girl is self-sufficient, she is called butch?
but i'm sure as hell not femme.
i am low maintenance. can get ready to go out before most boys OR girls.
*sigh*
maybe i AM butch.
but being pigeonholed annoys me.
i wore a red gown for a few minutes this week. it was a strapless top and a long, flowing skirt.
i felt pretty.
but then instead of the red top, i wanted to have a black pleather halter corset putting my breasts on display and bitch boots instead of sandals.
i am a bad-ass mothereffer and don't take no crap from nobody.
did anybody else see that movie?
never mind.
am i not pretty enough/is my heart too broken...
i just put on my playlist. that can be dangerous. it makes me think.
right now, the cast of "rent" sings "seasons of love."
so many songs put is in a time and place.
a concert held at the high school. the choir, in white tops and dark bottoms, stands in the center of the velvet-flanked stage and the song flows out across the faces glowing in the dark.
it's beautiful.
and sad.
525,600 minutes/525,000 moments so dear/525,600 minutes/how do you measure/measure a year/in daylights and sunset/in midnights and cups of coffee...
so many years. i sat in those chairs as a student and watched that director move her arms so crisply and knew friends standing on the stage, and now how many years (minutes?) later i know few if any kids there but the song puts me in the same place and i love it and i hate it and i've changed and nothing's changed.
it's strange.
ghosts.
my new nickname is macgyver. i name rocks and tell time by the sun and name flowers and bird calls and berries. and change oil and air up my tires. and stuff.
but i'm not that smart. my lip has a blister. cheese from pizza rolls fell out and it was broiling hot and it smarts. eeees OW.
pride: if you're so smart, why don't you have a job?
well.
the minnesota job bank site has 19,000-some jobs and 60,000 resumes posted.
it's not ALL me.
my.
pink, "dear diary" just came on my playlist.
dear, dear diary/i wanna tell my secrets/i know you'll keep them/this is what i've done...
secrets.
it's strange how much emotional exhibitionism we can have here, but keep so much hidden.
some people can bare their souls but keep their names completely anonymous.
others talk about everything in their lives but what they feel.
i don't know which i am.
i keep secrets, though.
i'm an introvert. that's what i do.
bah. having the playlist on messes up my train of thought.
at this hour of the morning, that's not all that difficult anyways.
shhh, playlist.
i want to lay in bed and dream.
maybe sleep and dream, but it'd be nice to dream dream again, too.
to believe that i can make a difference, and that who i am and what i do matters. that i can leave a little mark on the world.
but i'm not so sure of that.
not sure of where i belong.
heart and duty and dreams and desire ... it gets all messy when you frappe it up.
but that's life, isn't it? everything's all muddled and we grope our way along the best we can.
it's like being by lake superior.
christy and i were standing by the lakewalk at about 10:30 or so, watching as the sky darkened into night.
and you lose the definition between land and air and sky.
but it's beautiful.
maybe hearts are like that.
you have thoughts and hopes, but duty and dreams and desire all blend so you don't know which is which.
but even in confusion, there's beauty.
right?
cousin jenni called me today and said she and another girl from her church were going to have an intervention of sorts with a third girl.
see, said third girl had been laying on the couch with her boyfriend.
which jenni adroitly assumed likely meant spooning.
but we can't have that, you know.
spooning, and touching and such.
could lead to bad situations.
sitting, sure.
apparently the girl dresses in tight clothes and the boy is a "player." both have made a commitment to not have sex till they're married, so jenni and her friend want to call them on this concern. not mocking that.
i wouldn't be snarky about it if jenni hadn't woken me up in the middle of the night last summer with her hands all over me. and i called her on it a few weeks later, and she gave me some stupid answer.
and maybe she HAS changed since then.
but let she who is without sin, much?
people are strange.
especially since she keeps saying, "gwen, come live with me!"
um. no.
i stay here. or go to the cities. or oregon. duluth, if i could find something.
not des moines.
been there.
have been surfing legal secretary ads. most want experience, though, which sucketh. i could do all of it, but not without the experience.
an intellectual property firm was looking for a secretary with that experience.
i was having a geekgasm until christy pointed out i'd be the "anti-napster."
i was envisioning the interview:
"have you ever downloaded a song?"
"define download."
"clicked the button?"
"plead the fifth."
"stolen bandwidth?"
"um? didn't know hotlinking was bad etiquette?"
"have you ever mocked the RIAA's random lawsuits?"
"define mocked?"
"ADMIT IT! YOU'RE AN INTERNET PIRATE!"
"AIIIIYEEEE!!" *runs from the room*
yeah.
OK.
never mind. not as funny as i like to think i am.
's ok though.
too tired to sleep.
nowhere near awake enough to jobhunt anymore.
oh. yes. i applied for a kennel attendant position at the local humane society. it's part time gruntwork, i'm sure, but ... yeah. my inner do-gooder liked the idea. bits of money and puppy and kitteh loves.
sad, too. but happies to maybe helpa little.
ands tuff.s
stillmore stuff tos ay, i think.
meh.
ok. can't type anymore.
time to go.