One thing I'm notorious for is apologizing too much. If I said I were 'sorry' for not posting all these months while I was busy studying (i.e. being a student), it would be fruitless. I'm really only sorry to myself, because it's not like someone's hanging onto my every word here. I hope not. That would be incredibly unhealthy.
Anyway.
Loads of stuff has happened since...what was it, late September? But I'm not sure anything that has happened is relevant to this blog. Granted, I'm still a Student Seeking Purpose, for now.
But the fact of the matter is, I'm not going to be a college student for too much longer--though, as you know, I shudder to think of LAUD. In less than five months--God willing that I pass my comps and my remaining credits--I'll be out. A graduate.
So begins the Great Job Search of 2012. Never too early to start looking, of course. The area of business that keeps coming back to me is Human Resources. Literally anytime I search for a position anywhere, it leads me to that department of a company. But to be honest, it's not what I want.
Not that I'm completely sure of what I ultimately want out of a professional career. Still want to be a writer. That's not going to change.
Now, recently, I have come to another 'grand realization' about myself. That is, I'm actually pretty good at event-planning. Somehow I'm good about thinking everything through, and being practical about budgets and--naturally--the realm of possibility. Sure, I'm still learning how to handle monolithic logistics (bussing 150+ students across Dallas and back in an efficient manner, e.g.), but I'm learning.
You never really stop being a student, after all. I failed to mention that before, that I do realize that. I'm going to graduate in May, sure, and I don't have (immediate, anyway) plans to attend graduate school, or even more school at all.
I just exited my most successful semester of college a few weeks ago; little did I know, between forcing myself to write a twenty-page paper and watching all the seasons of Frasier, something good was happening. Is it possible to work your best from multi-tasking? I'm always, always multi-tasking (a cloaked form of procrastination, as it is often in my case).
The thing is, last semester, I never really stopped. Yes, I vegged out. But when I vegged, I was doing something. Probably watching a show while I played Minesweeper or made dinner. It's what I do. Call me crazy (I am, sort of), but I consider this stuff as thought-stimulating and therefore good for my brain. Not sure about any scientific studies or anything, of course.
Also, with November always comes National Novel Writing Month. Which I shouldn't participate in, of course. I didn't 'compete' against myself this year, but almost every day during that month, I wrote a few pages of a novel that's just slightly bending the truth of what actually occurred in my life during that time. Changed names, made up things that happened between other people when I wasn't around them...and so on. If it's actually publish-able--I don't think that's a word--as it stands, then it would be a novella. It's about 10,000 words. Hardly a short story, even. But it's mostly a true story, at least. My friend Allie is the only soul who's read it so far. I don't know what's "allowed" as far as non-fiction goes, especially since some of this is fictitious.
Oh well.
Where was I going with this? Don't remember. Posting gratia posting?
I'm very, very nervous about my last semester coming up. Second week back, we have the first round of English major comprehensive exams, and we delve right into our Senior Novel project. Then I have to put on the Valentine's dance since I'm the Socials director of student programming. Then the second batch of comprehensive exams, more Novel, spring break, more Novel, oh and I have these OTHER CLASSES. And of course I'm also putting on Spring Formal, which is our biggest off-campus event, aside from the Groundhog festival. Formal is farther away, distance-wise. Gosh I'm nervous. And I'm not sure when our project presentations are. Or what my job search will look like then.
Sigh.
Christine out. For now.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Friday, September 30, 2011
Is This Off-Topic?
I knew it would come to this at some point. --I'm posting to procrastinate. Figures.
I hope I didn't offend or freak out anyone by my last post, I was feeling a bit empowered as a female, while simultaneously frustrated at many things; don't ask me how that works, it's a mystery even to me, and I'm experiencing it first-hand.
I've been under-the-weather the past few days, only just recovered now. I had to miss all four of my classes, one session apiece. And now I have to catch up. With an annotated paper proposal and an exam tomorrow. Oh, joy.
I can't believe I've been back at school for almost a month. It hardly feels that way, academically speaking. Socially speaking, I'm not surprised at all. So much has happened already, with that side of things. Not that I'll get into specifics. I don't do that anymore. Well, that's a lie. I'm such a gossip-monger. One of my guy friends used another candid term for what I am, but I won't disclose that here.
Ahem. Anyway.
Since I've been under-the-weather (I'm saying it this way because it seems classier than saying 'I've been sick'), I have been keeping up with new shows pretty religiously. But I suppose that's my entertainment blog's subject matter...I should update that. I've seen every premiere I remotely cared about, and I've only reviewed one. Surprisingly, the only one I have reviewed so far was New Girl with Zooey Deschanel. More surprisingly, not my favorite. Not even close. And I could have bet money, I was so convinced it would be, since I adore that girl. But alas. I am so off-topic.
But to be off-topic, you actually have to be on-topic in the first place, and I don't think a topic was ever clearly stated.
There was a huge but brief storm tonight. I was walking across the main part of campus and suddenly the wind blew up and debris was everywhere and I thought for sure a tornado was going to suck me up into the sky. I prayed for my life, and thankfully it worked out.
--Question: Is it wrong to have eye candy? Because I think I have some now, and I'm quite enjoying it. It's probably wrong.
Oh, well. I really should get back to studying.
Christine out.
PS: I love The Office. I've been re-watching season four this week. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F5GXUs_-YTg&feature=related
I hope I didn't offend or freak out anyone by my last post, I was feeling a bit empowered as a female, while simultaneously frustrated at many things; don't ask me how that works, it's a mystery even to me, and I'm experiencing it first-hand.
I've been under-the-weather the past few days, only just recovered now. I had to miss all four of my classes, one session apiece. And now I have to catch up. With an annotated paper proposal and an exam tomorrow. Oh, joy.
I can't believe I've been back at school for almost a month. It hardly feels that way, academically speaking. Socially speaking, I'm not surprised at all. So much has happened already, with that side of things. Not that I'll get into specifics. I don't do that anymore. Well, that's a lie. I'm such a gossip-monger. One of my guy friends used another candid term for what I am, but I won't disclose that here.
Ahem. Anyway.
Since I've been under-the-weather (I'm saying it this way because it seems classier than saying 'I've been sick'), I have been keeping up with new shows pretty religiously. But I suppose that's my entertainment blog's subject matter...I should update that. I've seen every premiere I remotely cared about, and I've only reviewed one. Surprisingly, the only one I have reviewed so far was New Girl with Zooey Deschanel. More surprisingly, not my favorite. Not even close. And I could have bet money, I was so convinced it would be, since I adore that girl. But alas. I am so off-topic.
But to be off-topic, you actually have to be on-topic in the first place, and I don't think a topic was ever clearly stated.
There was a huge but brief storm tonight. I was walking across the main part of campus and suddenly the wind blew up and debris was everywhere and I thought for sure a tornado was going to suck me up into the sky. I prayed for my life, and thankfully it worked out.
--Question: Is it wrong to have eye candy? Because I think I have some now, and I'm quite enjoying it. It's probably wrong.
Oh, well. I really should get back to studying.
Christine out.
PS: I love The Office. I've been re-watching season four this week. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F5GXUs_-YTg&feature=related
Friday, September 23, 2011
Not Now, No
A short post.
Some food for thought:
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-1209556/500-Days-Summer-Revenge-writing-film-girl-dumped-you.html
Maybe you haven't seen that movie, though.
Some girls don't want to be in relationships? What? Are they mad?
No, they're quite sensible. Not that Summer Finn in the movie was sensible, necessarily, but she figured love out eventually, when it hit her like a ton of bricks.
Recently--and I mean very recently, yesterday late in the evening, if I recall correctly--I realized I don't need all that right now. Not that one should ever 'need' that; one should always strive to be complete in and of herself.
I work best in that way by distracting myself. I get involved, I focus on seemingly random things, and, most of the time, I hang with my girls on a Saturday night instead of putting myself out there.
So I'm already fighting half the battle, distractions are great because they don't give you any time to think of the 'space' that might be filled with, say, a 'significant other,' or what have you (or what have you not, -haha-). But there's still the matter of a healthy mentality to take on. This mentality needs to be a self-exercise, a self-restraint.
A self-reminder. No, I don't need someone right now. I shouldn't 'need' someone ever. I don't have time for another person in that way in the current state of the complicated equation that is my insane senior year life.
Because that's right, you know. I simply don't have time. Oh, I'd certainly make time, if there were someone to make time for. That's the kind of person I am. The kind of friend I am. I'm extremely loyal, dutiful even. It's one of the few virtues I practice regularly.
I also have an awful habit of being too forward. Hopefully this self-realization will help me in quashing that habit.
I suppose all of that wasn't very clear. I ought to sleep.
I must credit one of my friends for inspiration on the whole being sensible thing. She's doing this 'no-dating-for-a-year' deal with herself. Amen, sister. Though I have to say, I'd have to be asked out on dates for that to apply to me, anyway. That wasn't a darkly stated remark, I'm laughing. Okay, it was a little dark. But I'm amused.
Christine out.
PS: Oh, and I wish I were going to the Maroon 5 concert Friday night. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=suRsxpoAc5w
Sunday, September 11, 2011
A Sense of History
I honestly didn't realize it was 9/11 until about 30 seconds ago. Well, really realize it, anyway.
Sometimes I worry myself that I don't have a sense of history; that I'm buying into the mentality that, well, life goes on, and there isn't anything anyone can do about it.
But you see, those things are true. Life does go on. There isn't anything we can do about that. It's a fact of life that it will continue regardless, isn't it?
So, we're supposed to be mourning, I guess? I think I'm done mourning. I cried my little eyes out that day, ten years ago, in the sixth grade, when it happened. I can't believe they let us watch that on the television during school. And then my mother came to pick me up, because before that happened, I was feeling ill and told my teacher I needed to go home.
Maybe I felt ill because I innately knew something was terribly, horribly wrong? Hindsight is twenty-twenty, or even better vision, because you can see the significance of the minutest details if you look back meticulously.
So I am remembering, after all. It didn't take much, and there isn't much to remember from a sixth grader's perspective, but I'm doing it anyway.
I'm not very good at mourning. At focusing on awful things that happened years ago. Because I prefer to think of happier things. In recent years, I've looked more to the future than to the past. Looking to the future can make you paranoid.
Looking to the past can make you depressed. But so can looking at the present, depending on your perspective.
For the moment, all I know is I have loads of homework, and not enough time in which to do it--not to mention compiling a budget request for the club I'm president of this year, sending in an evaluation of my recent Socials event, and writing a review of a local museum exhibit. So I "shouldn't" even be writing this post.
I keep getting distracted from everything, and definitely from writing this. I'm kind of at work right now. It's just answering phones--but someone's got to do it. And I just had a fifteen-minute conversation with a man who's trying to meet up with a friend, who is in class right now (???), for lunch, but she doesn't have a cell phone. So I guess he's just going to creep on her with the information I gave him? I hope I'm not being an enabler, or anything. I only gave him general University information...
Anyway.
Christine out.
Sometimes I worry myself that I don't have a sense of history; that I'm buying into the mentality that, well, life goes on, and there isn't anything anyone can do about it.
But you see, those things are true. Life does go on. There isn't anything we can do about that. It's a fact of life that it will continue regardless, isn't it?
So, we're supposed to be mourning, I guess? I think I'm done mourning. I cried my little eyes out that day, ten years ago, in the sixth grade, when it happened. I can't believe they let us watch that on the television during school. And then my mother came to pick me up, because before that happened, I was feeling ill and told my teacher I needed to go home.
Maybe I felt ill because I innately knew something was terribly, horribly wrong? Hindsight is twenty-twenty, or even better vision, because you can see the significance of the minutest details if you look back meticulously.
So I am remembering, after all. It didn't take much, and there isn't much to remember from a sixth grader's perspective, but I'm doing it anyway.
I'm not very good at mourning. At focusing on awful things that happened years ago. Because I prefer to think of happier things. In recent years, I've looked more to the future than to the past. Looking to the future can make you paranoid.
Looking to the past can make you depressed. But so can looking at the present, depending on your perspective.
For the moment, all I know is I have loads of homework, and not enough time in which to do it--not to mention compiling a budget request for the club I'm president of this year, sending in an evaluation of my recent Socials event, and writing a review of a local museum exhibit. So I "shouldn't" even be writing this post.
I keep getting distracted from everything, and definitely from writing this. I'm kind of at work right now. It's just answering phones--but someone's got to do it. And I just had a fifteen-minute conversation with a man who's trying to meet up with a friend, who is in class right now (???), for lunch, but she doesn't have a cell phone. So I guess he's just going to creep on her with the information I gave him? I hope I'm not being an enabler, or anything. I only gave him general University information...
Anyway.
Christine out.
Friday, August 12, 2011
Where Oh Where...
Could someone please tell me where the summer has run off to? I move back to school in just a week. The first half of summer goes by slowly, nicely, as if one were taking a leisurely stroll in a forest full of possibilities.
"Oh, I could actually finish that story I've been working on."
"Oh, I could finally make that collage of my semester abroad (which I bought the supplies for a whole year ago), to hang up in my room, complete with souvenirs and pictures and everything."
"Oh, I could probably work on and finish that oil painting of the isle Capri that I started three summers ago, I've got plenty of time for that!"
"Oh, I could definitely clean out my closet of all that crummy, trashable stuff at the bottom and maximize on space in my room."
"Oh, I could read Madame Bovary. I could read I, Claudius. I could read Dracula. I could read A Tale of Two Cities. I could read Ulysses. I could read The Name of the Rose. I could read The Brothers Karamazov. I can choose the novel for my senior project!!"
And so on, and so forth.
I've done parts of some of these things. I've done none of the rest of these things. Started Madame Bovary, finished This Side of Paradise, which wasn't on the list. Read a plethora of Meg Cabot books, and they're quite fun, but academically speaking a 'waste of time.' Worked on my stories a bit, worked on my oil painting for a week in the beginning of the summer, then stopped.
I have a theory that the second half of the summer, let's say starting around July 15th, goes by much more quickly than the first half. You blink at that time and then it's time to go back to school. The theory is that the space-time continuum somehow speeds up in that month/month and a half.
Think about it. You know it's true.
Anyway. I have goals for the new academic year. One of them is to dress more professionally on a daily basis. Wearing khakis/slacks instead of jeans, wearing more of my skirts, different shoes than tennis shoes, nicer shirts without so much writing on them, or graphics, etc. We'll see how that goes.
Other goals are more vague. Some of them are personal, but most are professional. I should also have a goal to make dean's list again, since that only just happened for the first time last semester. But sometimes I feel like that was a fluke, given how distracted I was then. Of course, for once Latin wasn't dragging me down, but pulling me up.
It's going to be interesting not having a Latin class this year. Finally, after 7 years of studying it. It usually lowers my GPA...
Anyway. Since I said a couple days ago that I hadn't been writing, of course I wrote a bit later that evening. That's how it works, isn't it? Some of this one story (probably a novella, not a whole novel, the way it's turning out) wherein the main character tells a group of new friends about her various failed, would-be romances from the past five years. I take some situations from my real life to make up her stories, but I'm hoping to make it more exciting than what really happened, of course. Does anything quite so exciting ever happen in real life?--I'm starting to wonder.
My birthday's coming up. The 17th. I'm feeling rather old lately. Compared to what? I don't know. I'll be 22. The song "Countdown" by Phoenix comes to mind... "Do you remember when / 21 years was old?" As in, when you were a little kid, I'm interpreting that to mean. You've probably heard "Lisztomania" by Phoenix on the radio. They're a French band, did you know? They're pretty cool.
Anyway. I can't seem to shake the whole LAUD thing. I can't stop being a student...seeking purpose...much like I can't stop breathing. I guess it's part of me, the whole quest. It's a bit exhausting. I've been going through a different job possibility each day. Most recently, librarian assistant, greeting card writer, and (again) secretary/administrative assistant.
We shall see.
Christine out.
"Oh, I could actually finish that story I've been working on."
"Oh, I could finally make that collage of my semester abroad (which I bought the supplies for a whole year ago), to hang up in my room, complete with souvenirs and pictures and everything."
"Oh, I could probably work on and finish that oil painting of the isle Capri that I started three summers ago, I've got plenty of time for that!"
"Oh, I could definitely clean out my closet of all that crummy, trashable stuff at the bottom and maximize on space in my room."
"Oh, I could read Madame Bovary. I could read I, Claudius. I could read Dracula. I could read A Tale of Two Cities. I could read Ulysses. I could read The Name of the Rose. I could read The Brothers Karamazov. I can choose the novel for my senior project!!"
And so on, and so forth.
I've done parts of some of these things. I've done none of the rest of these things. Started Madame Bovary, finished This Side of Paradise, which wasn't on the list. Read a plethora of Meg Cabot books, and they're quite fun, but academically speaking a 'waste of time.' Worked on my stories a bit, worked on my oil painting for a week in the beginning of the summer, then stopped.
I have a theory that the second half of the summer, let's say starting around July 15th, goes by much more quickly than the first half. You blink at that time and then it's time to go back to school. The theory is that the space-time continuum somehow speeds up in that month/month and a half.
Think about it. You know it's true.
Anyway. I have goals for the new academic year. One of them is to dress more professionally on a daily basis. Wearing khakis/slacks instead of jeans, wearing more of my skirts, different shoes than tennis shoes, nicer shirts without so much writing on them, or graphics, etc. We'll see how that goes.
Other goals are more vague. Some of them are personal, but most are professional. I should also have a goal to make dean's list again, since that only just happened for the first time last semester. But sometimes I feel like that was a fluke, given how distracted I was then. Of course, for once Latin wasn't dragging me down, but pulling me up.
It's going to be interesting not having a Latin class this year. Finally, after 7 years of studying it. It usually lowers my GPA...
Anyway. Since I said a couple days ago that I hadn't been writing, of course I wrote a bit later that evening. That's how it works, isn't it? Some of this one story (probably a novella, not a whole novel, the way it's turning out) wherein the main character tells a group of new friends about her various failed, would-be romances from the past five years. I take some situations from my real life to make up her stories, but I'm hoping to make it more exciting than what really happened, of course. Does anything quite so exciting ever happen in real life?--I'm starting to wonder.
My birthday's coming up. The 17th. I'm feeling rather old lately. Compared to what? I don't know. I'll be 22. The song "Countdown" by Phoenix comes to mind... "Do you remember when / 21 years was old?" As in, when you were a little kid, I'm interpreting that to mean. You've probably heard "Lisztomania" by Phoenix on the radio. They're a French band, did you know? They're pretty cool.
Anyway. I can't seem to shake the whole LAUD thing. I can't stop being a student...seeking purpose...much like I can't stop breathing. I guess it's part of me, the whole quest. It's a bit exhausting. I've been going through a different job possibility each day. Most recently, librarian assistant, greeting card writer, and (again) secretary/administrative assistant.
We shall see.
Christine out.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Someone Who Finishes
http://www.timothyhallinan.com/writers.php
If you read that page, well, you'll understand the dismay I felt when I first read it. "A writer is someone who finishes."
It's a self-help website about how to finish that novel you've been working on. Or in my case, several. My stuff ranges from 30,000 words long (my Toni McGuire mystery; my fictional biography of sci-fi/fantasy nerd Timothy Goldwyn) down to 1,000-3,000 words long (a flashback, semi-nonfictitious story I'm writing; a story about a young British chap who travels around the US for a year), but I consider all of it to be, one day, eventually...finishable. I'm not sure if that word's in the OED, but I just made it up under my poetic license. I guess I do that often.
I haven't written more than a single paragraph for...weeks. Unless you count e-mails and chat conversations and notes to oneself and lists for packing and the store. Which I don't. The other day is when I wrote my measly 2-sentence paragraph from my fictional biography.
Out of context, the paragraph means nothing to anyone. And it was merely written because I felt I simply had to write a few lines after hearing Frank Sinatra's 'It Had to Be You.' I felt like I had to write a whole movie just so there could be a scene wherein that song could be featured.
Which I'll be the first to admit is ridiculous. But writers are allowed to be ridiculous. Right?
I'm so not a writer. It's pretty depressing how much I am not a writer. If I were a writer, I'd be making more time to write. If I were a writer, I'd be writing.
I suppose I'm writing this blog post. That doesn't count either, though.
I've been incredibly busy. I'm planning this Greek Fest party at my university. It has the promise of being epic, if I can get everything in order efficiently. I'm helping with new student orientation. That's going to be an insane few days. I need to talk to the other Swing officers, about our first meeting of the year. Being president is going to be insane as well. Of course. Not to mention being student coordinator of telecommunications...
Life is too busy. I didn't even say anything to the effect of my home life. It's busy, too. And I'm trying to finalize my living situation when I go back to school. Thankfully I figured that out mostly on Monday. Still, I really hate unknowns. They freak me out more than anything.
I'm being boring, aren't I? That's too bad. I haven't posted in forever, so I was hoping to be interesting this time around.
I've been debating whether or not to post parts of my stories on here. I always get afraid that some creep is going to happen upon my blog and proceed to steal what I've written. And then I can never publish it. The aim I would have in posting anything would be to get some general feedback. Do I need to keep going the way I'm going? Or do a complete re-write? Recently I came to the horribly shocking realization that writing 'is' re-writing. I hope I can do that. We'll see. Maybe?
I don't know what else to say. I'm done with my summer job. I hope I never have to work there ever again. I can't take it, honestly...
In other news, finally got a credit card company to give me a card, despite my apparently low credit score. I detest the fact that you have a credit score even before you start using an actual credit card.
Let's play out to Frank, shall we? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_ipJ2P8duaY
Christine out.
If you read that page, well, you'll understand the dismay I felt when I first read it. "A writer is someone who finishes."
It's a self-help website about how to finish that novel you've been working on. Or in my case, several. My stuff ranges from 30,000 words long (my Toni McGuire mystery; my fictional biography of sci-fi/fantasy nerd Timothy Goldwyn) down to 1,000-3,000 words long (a flashback, semi-nonfictitious story I'm writing; a story about a young British chap who travels around the US for a year), but I consider all of it to be, one day, eventually...finishable. I'm not sure if that word's in the OED, but I just made it up under my poetic license. I guess I do that often.
I haven't written more than a single paragraph for...weeks. Unless you count e-mails and chat conversations and notes to oneself and lists for packing and the store. Which I don't. The other day is when I wrote my measly 2-sentence paragraph from my fictional biography.
Out of context, the paragraph means nothing to anyone. And it was merely written because I felt I simply had to write a few lines after hearing Frank Sinatra's 'It Had to Be You.' I felt like I had to write a whole movie just so there could be a scene wherein that song could be featured.
Which I'll be the first to admit is ridiculous. But writers are allowed to be ridiculous. Right?
I'm so not a writer. It's pretty depressing how much I am not a writer. If I were a writer, I'd be making more time to write. If I were a writer, I'd be writing.
I suppose I'm writing this blog post. That doesn't count either, though.
I've been incredibly busy. I'm planning this Greek Fest party at my university. It has the promise of being epic, if I can get everything in order efficiently. I'm helping with new student orientation. That's going to be an insane few days. I need to talk to the other Swing officers, about our first meeting of the year. Being president is going to be insane as well. Of course. Not to mention being student coordinator of telecommunications...
Life is too busy. I didn't even say anything to the effect of my home life. It's busy, too. And I'm trying to finalize my living situation when I go back to school. Thankfully I figured that out mostly on Monday. Still, I really hate unknowns. They freak me out more than anything.
I'm being boring, aren't I? That's too bad. I haven't posted in forever, so I was hoping to be interesting this time around.
I've been debating whether or not to post parts of my stories on here. I always get afraid that some creep is going to happen upon my blog and proceed to steal what I've written. And then I can never publish it. The aim I would have in posting anything would be to get some general feedback. Do I need to keep going the way I'm going? Or do a complete re-write? Recently I came to the horribly shocking realization that writing 'is' re-writing. I hope I can do that. We'll see. Maybe?
I don't know what else to say. I'm done with my summer job. I hope I never have to work there ever again. I can't take it, honestly...
In other news, finally got a credit card company to give me a card, despite my apparently low credit score. I detest the fact that you have a credit score even before you start using an actual credit card.
Let's play out to Frank, shall we? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_ipJ2P8duaY
Christine out.
Monday, July 18, 2011
YYYYAAAAAWWWWP!
"I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world." - Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass
You probably remember that inspiring scene from Dead Poets Society.
I kind of want to yawp like Todd Anderson was finally able to, but I guess that would scare my family, not to mention the rest of my neighborhood, half to death. So I'm settling for a virtual 'YAWP' today. Though it won't be nearly as gratifying as an actual one would.
I just got home a little while ago after a 9+ hour day at work. The truck comes in on Monday morning at 6am, so we have to stock till we drop. On the fourth of July, no one was allowed to go home until the entire store had been stocked up.
Anyway, today is the most stock I've ever done, at least by myself. I did almost the whole Unspeakable Aisle by my lonesome, with a bit of help from a male coworker, who was a good sport about it, and probably did a lot more than me today, so I have no place complaining.
I started out the day feeling a bit unwell (though somehow I kept up my 4-weeks-old tradition of Taco Bell Mondays for lunch), and before I got off I was stocking the strong-smelling shampoos and conditioners, so now I have a headache. It was hard to keep myself awake driving home, especially also since the sky is actually overcast in Austin right now. WHY WON'T IT RAIN? We've been in a constant drought all summer long.
There are quite a few reasons to YAWP today. And just in general.
1. Stocking
2. Headache
3. The drought
4. The e-mail I just got when I got home
5. Yesterday at JCPenney's
6. The false alarm
7. Awkward encounters of the other kind (not the third; I mean a gent, if you could call him that)
8. The ongoing search of the student for purpose
9. People on the road in cars who shouldn't be driving
10. The horrid state of the order of my room (or, the chaos that is my room) which I just can't seem to clear up
1, 2, and 3 have been explained already. YAWP.
9 and 10 are self-explanatory, I think. YAWP.
4. I can't say much about my e-mail for fear of offending anyone involved, though I am only really mad at myself for lack of creativity and for waiting so long to figure things out. I'm mad at myself and the situation, not anyone else but me. Basically I had what I thought was a great idea for an event, but it won't be possible for a few reasons. So now I need a new one. And my head hurts so much, and I'm working at 7am tomorrow. I do NOT have the capacity to troubleshoot this problem right now. YAWP.
5. Oh my God, so yesterday I drove to the mall to get a few important things for my roommate's and my off-campus apartment (which we'll move into in about a month). Went to JCP because they're having a Home Dept sale the 17-19th. (I recommend going! Though hopefully you won't have an experience similar to mine.) Picked up a 16-pc non-stick pots/pans set, went over to the checkout, and was the second person in line.
One of the two cashiers was just bagging stuff for someone who had already paid, but had Disappeared, and I was quite confused. This other lady who Hadn't Been in Line, but apparently felt she had been waiting as long as or longer than me, went to that cashier when she was done. The woman took ten minutes to checkout. The other cashier was dealing with a Problem customer who was insisting that she owned a JCP charge card when it was quite obvious she didn't (I know these people, and loathe them)--the whole time I was waiting, mind you.
Eventually, about ten minutes into my wait-time, I had to put down the box of pots (my arms are still sore from that today). Then I instantly (of course, because that's how the universe works) had to pick them up again, because Hadn't Been in Line just finished checking out. I was making my move to the cash register when another lady, whom I later realized was the customer who had Disappeared, just walks up to the free cashier and the cashier asks if she's ready. My jaw drops, and I set down my pot-set rather harshly. The other cashier is still dealing with the Problem customer, and I feared there was no hope I'd ever get home on time to the communal birthday party we were having for four family members that afternoon. Disappeared took just as long to check out as Hadn't Been in Line. Finally I got to check out, and the cashier didn't apologize for Disappeared taking my spot in line, as I would have, had it been me cashiering (it happens all the time where I work, but I guess the world isn't full of apologetic people like me...). But whatever. Then, at the end of my transaction, Disappeared reappears! From behind a pillow display tower! With a third round of things to buy! I high-tailed it out of there, dismissing the cashier's weak offer of sending the pots upstairs, because, honestly, then I would have had to wait for THAT, too. YAWP, indeed!
6. So I thought my alarm went off this morning, and I'm not quite sure why I thought so. Anyway, go to my bathroom to get ready for work, and get as far as washing my face, when I glance at the bathroom clock. 2:25am. I curse under my breath. I check all the other clocks in my room. Yep. 2:25am and I thought it had been 6:30am. No wonder I felt as if I hadn't gotten enough sleep. Of course, I ended up not getting enough sleep, still. I never get enough sleep. YAWP.
7. About two weeks into my summer job, the first time I was working until 11pm (you get a little loopy working that late, in my experience), around 10:15pm this Scruffy-looking guy comes into the store, reeking of cigarette smoke, and wants to buy a pack of Camel Blues, or Camel Lights, as they used to call them until recently. He looks older than he actually is (from the smoking I guess), so instead of asking him for his I.D. I just asked for his birthday, though I usually just make them up (because we have to put them in the system and I get tired of making them up...I end up making most people's birthdays in 1970...that's nice to some, mean to others...but they don't have to know). He was actually an 89er like me, and I told him that I was. I'm nice to all my customers, so I must have smiled at him before sending him on his way.
Scruffy comes back in about ten minutes later, when I don't have any customers. He says, "Well, so, I just knew I'd be kicking myself if I didn't at least ask, do you have a boyfriend? Because, you're just really nice and you have a beautiful speaking voice."
So Scruffy wanted to go out with me. Meep. Not that I would know from experience, but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't like dating a cigarette smoker. Especially one so dependent on them. I told him I was flattered.
But I lied and said, "Why, yes, I do have a boyfriend, actually. Sorry." Hey, he gave me the opportunity to say if I did, by asking. Otherwise, had he just asked me out, point-blank, I don't know what I would have said. Let's just say it probably wouldn't have been so kind and gentle a way of letting someone down.
Anyway, he came in again the other day, and I realized by his outfit that he waited tables at the nearby pizzeria. Awkward. He came to me and asked for Camel Blues again. Awkward. I pretended like I didn't remember him. Cowardly, but saved myself from more awkwardness. Anyway. YAWP.
8. More of the same, if you've read my first post, 'Grand Realization.' But even more-so than the same. Thought seriously about law school, for a day (as in, must not have been that seriously...guess I'll just leave that field to my friend James, who's way better at it than I'd ever hope to be). Thought about being an assistant librarian, this weekend. Nixed it when I found out you actually need a background in library sciences to be one. So I'd have to go to school some more for that, too. Thinking now about being an administrative assistant. Or a receptionist. Are those the same thing nowadays? I feel as if I keep hearing about them interchangeably. Anyway. Still want to be an author. That's not going to change. Of course, now I heard that "A writer is someone who finishes." More on that another time...but very disheartening. YAWP.
And here we are. Since I won't be expounding on 9 and 10. But I already said that.
I kind of want to quit my job, but that wouldn't be very economical of me. I'm pretty stressed out lately. I'd list the things that are getting me down, but I've YAWP'd enough about all that other stuff.
Note: I am a generally happy person. I promise. I just have my limits, and one of the purposes of this blog is to let it out when those limits have been reached.
Anyway.
Christine out.
PS: How great was that Harry Potter movie?? Right?! (That was a rhetorical statement.)
You probably remember that inspiring scene from Dead Poets Society.
I kind of want to yawp like Todd Anderson was finally able to, but I guess that would scare my family, not to mention the rest of my neighborhood, half to death. So I'm settling for a virtual 'YAWP' today. Though it won't be nearly as gratifying as an actual one would.
I just got home a little while ago after a 9+ hour day at work. The truck comes in on Monday morning at 6am, so we have to stock till we drop. On the fourth of July, no one was allowed to go home until the entire store had been stocked up.
Anyway, today is the most stock I've ever done, at least by myself. I did almost the whole Unspeakable Aisle by my lonesome, with a bit of help from a male coworker, who was a good sport about it, and probably did a lot more than me today, so I have no place complaining.
I started out the day feeling a bit unwell (though somehow I kept up my 4-weeks-old tradition of Taco Bell Mondays for lunch), and before I got off I was stocking the strong-smelling shampoos and conditioners, so now I have a headache. It was hard to keep myself awake driving home, especially also since the sky is actually overcast in Austin right now. WHY WON'T IT RAIN? We've been in a constant drought all summer long.
There are quite a few reasons to YAWP today. And just in general.
1. Stocking
2. Headache
3. The drought
4. The e-mail I just got when I got home
5. Yesterday at JCPenney's
6. The false alarm
7. Awkward encounters of the other kind (not the third; I mean a gent, if you could call him that)
8. The ongoing search of the student for purpose
9. People on the road in cars who shouldn't be driving
10. The horrid state of the order of my room (or, the chaos that is my room) which I just can't seem to clear up
1, 2, and 3 have been explained already. YAWP.
9 and 10 are self-explanatory, I think. YAWP.
4. I can't say much about my e-mail for fear of offending anyone involved, though I am only really mad at myself for lack of creativity and for waiting so long to figure things out. I'm mad at myself and the situation, not anyone else but me. Basically I had what I thought was a great idea for an event, but it won't be possible for a few reasons. So now I need a new one. And my head hurts so much, and I'm working at 7am tomorrow. I do NOT have the capacity to troubleshoot this problem right now. YAWP.
5. Oh my God, so yesterday I drove to the mall to get a few important things for my roommate's and my off-campus apartment (which we'll move into in about a month). Went to JCP because they're having a Home Dept sale the 17-19th. (I recommend going! Though hopefully you won't have an experience similar to mine.) Picked up a 16-pc non-stick pots/pans set, went over to the checkout, and was the second person in line.
One of the two cashiers was just bagging stuff for someone who had already paid, but had Disappeared, and I was quite confused. This other lady who Hadn't Been in Line, but apparently felt she had been waiting as long as or longer than me, went to that cashier when she was done. The woman took ten minutes to checkout. The other cashier was dealing with a Problem customer who was insisting that she owned a JCP charge card when it was quite obvious she didn't (I know these people, and loathe them)--the whole time I was waiting, mind you.
Eventually, about ten minutes into my wait-time, I had to put down the box of pots (my arms are still sore from that today). Then I instantly (of course, because that's how the universe works) had to pick them up again, because Hadn't Been in Line just finished checking out. I was making my move to the cash register when another lady, whom I later realized was the customer who had Disappeared, just walks up to the free cashier and the cashier asks if she's ready. My jaw drops, and I set down my pot-set rather harshly. The other cashier is still dealing with the Problem customer, and I feared there was no hope I'd ever get home on time to the communal birthday party we were having for four family members that afternoon. Disappeared took just as long to check out as Hadn't Been in Line. Finally I got to check out, and the cashier didn't apologize for Disappeared taking my spot in line, as I would have, had it been me cashiering (it happens all the time where I work, but I guess the world isn't full of apologetic people like me...). But whatever. Then, at the end of my transaction, Disappeared reappears! From behind a pillow display tower! With a third round of things to buy! I high-tailed it out of there, dismissing the cashier's weak offer of sending the pots upstairs, because, honestly, then I would have had to wait for THAT, too. YAWP, indeed!
6. So I thought my alarm went off this morning, and I'm not quite sure why I thought so. Anyway, go to my bathroom to get ready for work, and get as far as washing my face, when I glance at the bathroom clock. 2:25am. I curse under my breath. I check all the other clocks in my room. Yep. 2:25am and I thought it had been 6:30am. No wonder I felt as if I hadn't gotten enough sleep. Of course, I ended up not getting enough sleep, still. I never get enough sleep. YAWP.
7. About two weeks into my summer job, the first time I was working until 11pm (you get a little loopy working that late, in my experience), around 10:15pm this Scruffy-looking guy comes into the store, reeking of cigarette smoke, and wants to buy a pack of Camel Blues, or Camel Lights, as they used to call them until recently. He looks older than he actually is (from the smoking I guess), so instead of asking him for his I.D. I just asked for his birthday, though I usually just make them up (because we have to put them in the system and I get tired of making them up...I end up making most people's birthdays in 1970...that's nice to some, mean to others...but they don't have to know). He was actually an 89er like me, and I told him that I was. I'm nice to all my customers, so I must have smiled at him before sending him on his way.
Scruffy comes back in about ten minutes later, when I don't have any customers. He says, "Well, so, I just knew I'd be kicking myself if I didn't at least ask, do you have a boyfriend? Because, you're just really nice and you have a beautiful speaking voice."
So Scruffy wanted to go out with me. Meep. Not that I would know from experience, but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't like dating a cigarette smoker. Especially one so dependent on them. I told him I was flattered.
But I lied and said, "Why, yes, I do have a boyfriend, actually. Sorry." Hey, he gave me the opportunity to say if I did, by asking. Otherwise, had he just asked me out, point-blank, I don't know what I would have said. Let's just say it probably wouldn't have been so kind and gentle a way of letting someone down.
Anyway, he came in again the other day, and I realized by his outfit that he waited tables at the nearby pizzeria. Awkward. He came to me and asked for Camel Blues again. Awkward. I pretended like I didn't remember him. Cowardly, but saved myself from more awkwardness. Anyway. YAWP.
8. More of the same, if you've read my first post, 'Grand Realization.' But even more-so than the same. Thought seriously about law school, for a day (as in, must not have been that seriously...guess I'll just leave that field to my friend James, who's way better at it than I'd ever hope to be). Thought about being an assistant librarian, this weekend. Nixed it when I found out you actually need a background in library sciences to be one. So I'd have to go to school some more for that, too. Thinking now about being an administrative assistant. Or a receptionist. Are those the same thing nowadays? I feel as if I keep hearing about them interchangeably. Anyway. Still want to be an author. That's not going to change. Of course, now I heard that "A writer is someone who finishes." More on that another time...but very disheartening. YAWP.
And here we are. Since I won't be expounding on 9 and 10. But I already said that.
I kind of want to quit my job, but that wouldn't be very economical of me. I'm pretty stressed out lately. I'd list the things that are getting me down, but I've YAWP'd enough about all that other stuff.
Note: I am a generally happy person. I promise. I just have my limits, and one of the purposes of this blog is to let it out when those limits have been reached.
Anyway.
Christine out.
PS: How great was that Harry Potter movie?? Right?! (That was a rhetorical statement.)
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