I got up early, ironed my best shirt, (that would be the clean one that has no stains on it), fussed with my hair, gulped down some coffee, brushed my teeth, and headed out the door. I actually drove to the interview, even though it was only half a mile away, because I knew if I walked I'd be sweating like a whore in church. Or it would rain. Or both.
I walked in to the New Mobile Phone Shop, which was still being put together. There were men outside on ladders fiddling with a sign. There was product all over the floor, and two guys in khaki pants and polo shirts with the New Mobile Phone Shop logo on them.
"Hi, I'm looking for Mr. Mobile Guy?"
"Are you heybartender?" he asked, extending his hand.
"I am." I reached for his hand and shook it.
"We'll be talking over there," he said, gesturing in the direction of four dirty gray cloth-covered chairs sitting against an institutional gray wall.
I sat with my back to the wall, facing him. Behind him was the only decor in the room- a very large poster of a very satisfied Mobile Phone Customer, pretty and ethnic and smiling, standing in front of a tree. We talked for a while. He had a copy of my resume in front of him. He asked me about my job at the Local Liquor Store, about the Rock Club, and of course, the Big Stupid Box Store. We talked about customer service, about my scheduling needs, etc. I was doing very well. I knew it. I was relieved. Then he asked me if I had any questions.
Pay? Minimum wage. Plus commission, of course. On stuff that you sell. The ad on cr@igslist said that the average pay was $32,000. I find that difficult to believe.
Benefits? No.
How many employees? Three.
"That Guy (the only one hired so far) is full time, and we need another full time person, and one part time, per se." (He said "per se" a lot. I was starting to get hungry.)
Hours? At least 45 a week, but probably 50.
Vacation? "Not paid, per se, but it's up to you to take time off when you want. You just have to work it out with That Guy."
Also, I would be required to travel about three hours away for training, which will happen over the course of four or five days.
I couldn't get out of there fast enough. I shook his hand and practically ran to my car. I immediately went and filled out another application at a restaurant, then stopped in to follow up at a place I had already applied. There is a possibility there in the next couple weeks. I poked my head into another place that isn't hiring. I went over to the bakery to get something chocolate. The line was long. I was standing there for about thirty seconds when I started having a sort of panic attack. I went back to my car and drove home and got back on the computer to look for another job. I guess I'll be calling the restaurant lady back. If I didn't already mention it, I did get a call back from an application I filled out a couple weeks ago. The restaurant isn't what I would call my cup of tea, but it is one of very few in the town so it will likely be busy, it's only fifteen minutes away, and it can't possibly be as soul sucking as the New Mobile Phone Shop. Plus, they pay minimum (not "restaurant minimum", but actual minimum wage) plus tips. So it looks like I might be going that route. Unless somebody else calls me back soon.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
So the b.h. and I were walking the dogs a little while ago. We went down the hill, across the river, and into town, walking along the railroad tracks where there is a paved path. It has been raining all day, so walking in the woods was out.
We were about halfway to the end when we saw a kid, he couldn't have been more than say, fourteen years old, burst through some bushes and run toward us onto the tracks. Having just passed a couple that seemed to be the same age, I assumed that he was running to catch up to them.
He turned, still running, and started across the road toward the river, slipped and fell forward onto his hands and knees, and then popped up and kept on running. I was about to ask if he was okay when I noticed a cop running from behind him. The kid went over the grass to our right, picked his way through some bushes, and started down the extremely steep riverbank. We kept walking, and when the cop reached us we pointed in the general direction that the kid had gone. When the cop got to the top of the bank, he looked over at us, his palms upward, as if to say "Where'd he go?"
We pointed downward and continued walking. Next thing I know the cop is drawing his gun, and he looks down, shows the kid his gun, and goes
"Get up here. NOW."
We walked a little faster then, even though Wyatt was trying his best to turn around and go home, which would basically have taken us straight back into it. Eventually I wrangled him and we started to jog toward the end of the path. By the time we got there, the cop had already cuffed the kid and another cop in a car had arrived. We did see a dry jacket on the tracks, but we resisted the urge to look in it.
We were about halfway to the end when we saw a kid, he couldn't have been more than say, fourteen years old, burst through some bushes and run toward us onto the tracks. Having just passed a couple that seemed to be the same age, I assumed that he was running to catch up to them.
He turned, still running, and started across the road toward the river, slipped and fell forward onto his hands and knees, and then popped up and kept on running. I was about to ask if he was okay when I noticed a cop running from behind him. The kid went over the grass to our right, picked his way through some bushes, and started down the extremely steep riverbank. We kept walking, and when the cop reached us we pointed in the general direction that the kid had gone. When the cop got to the top of the bank, he looked over at us, his palms upward, as if to say "Where'd he go?"
We pointed downward and continued walking. Next thing I know the cop is drawing his gun, and he looks down, shows the kid his gun, and goes
"Get up here. NOW."
We walked a little faster then, even though Wyatt was trying his best to turn around and go home, which would basically have taken us straight back into it. Eventually I wrangled him and we started to jog toward the end of the path. By the time we got there, the cop had already cuffed the kid and another cop in a car had arrived. We did see a dry jacket on the tracks, but we resisted the urge to look in it.
Martha Effing Stewart.
Today I woke up later than I intended and, possibly out of a need to feel some sense of accomplishment and also probably out of some sense of guilt for not having gotten up with the b.h. at 5:45, I immediately started cleaning. I did a load of laundry, ironed his chef coats, and picked up in the living room. I also sewed a hole that I have been avoiding in the couch cushion.
Next I turned to the refrigerator to try and cut down the massive number of greens we have accumulated thanks to our new CSA. Having no idea what to do with dandelion or beet greens, I turned to my old friend Cook's Illustrated and found a recipe which used up all of the beet greens as well as the half pound or so of fresh spinach that I had laying around. For those of you not familiar with this site, it is related to the PBS show America's Test Kitchen. These people are serious about food, and their recipes are tested so many times in so many ways (my favorite example is the fudge recipe, which they came to by making ONE TON of fudge) that they are already perfected, and one need only muck with them if one feels like it.
I almost never cook, because the b.h. is very good at it and he enjoys it so much, and our kitchen is small enough that whenever I'm in it I feel like I'm invading his space. But the b.h. was in class today, so I had the kitchen to myself. I made this recipe, substituting dried cranberries for the raisins (the b.h. hates raisins), and it was awesome. I was just finishing up when he walked up the driveway. It was perfect, and I am quite pleased with myself. Maybe I'll start doing this cooking thing more often. I'm thinking maybe tomorrow I'll tackle those dandelion greens.
Next I turned to the refrigerator to try and cut down the massive number of greens we have accumulated thanks to our new CSA. Having no idea what to do with dandelion or beet greens, I turned to my old friend Cook's Illustrated and found a recipe which used up all of the beet greens as well as the half pound or so of fresh spinach that I had laying around. For those of you not familiar with this site, it is related to the PBS show America's Test Kitchen. These people are serious about food, and their recipes are tested so many times in so many ways (my favorite example is the fudge recipe, which they came to by making ONE TON of fudge) that they are already perfected, and one need only muck with them if one feels like it.
I almost never cook, because the b.h. is very good at it and he enjoys it so much, and our kitchen is small enough that whenever I'm in it I feel like I'm invading his space. But the b.h. was in class today, so I had the kitchen to myself. I made this recipe, substituting dried cranberries for the raisins (the b.h. hates raisins), and it was awesome. I was just finishing up when he walked up the driveway. It was perfect, and I am quite pleased with myself. Maybe I'll start doing this cooking thing more often. I'm thinking maybe tomorrow I'll tackle those dandelion greens.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Today was Drag Your Shrieking Child Through the Store Day at the LHFS. And thanks to somebody's stroke of genius, many of them were piloting child-sized shopping carts and running around knocking into stuff and completely ignoring their parents. So that was fun.
Then there was a girl who showed up in her pajamas. Now I know you're thinking, so effing what? People do that all the time! And indeed that is true. I have seen people in flannel bottoms and a t-shirt, sometimes even in their slippers, running into the gas station or the Local Liquor Store for a pack of cigarettes or quick 6 pack. Shit, people used to come to the bar like that. No. This girl was wearing a silky, peacock green camisole and short set, with lace trim, and a pair of knee-length white trouser socks. Yeah. Somebody's daddy probably should have given her a little more attention.
Other than that and the fact that I got free breakfast (hooray for tofu curry!), it was a rather soul-suckingly boring day.
Off tomorrow, though, so if the weather is nice (it's supposed to rain, so I assume that it will be) I'll probably take the boys to do something fun.
Then there was a girl who showed up in her pajamas. Now I know you're thinking, so effing what? People do that all the time! And indeed that is true. I have seen people in flannel bottoms and a t-shirt, sometimes even in their slippers, running into the gas station or the Local Liquor Store for a pack of cigarettes or quick 6 pack. Shit, people used to come to the bar like that. No. This girl was wearing a silky, peacock green camisole and short set, with lace trim, and a pair of knee-length white trouser socks. Yeah. Somebody's daddy probably should have given her a little more attention.
Other than that and the fact that I got free breakfast (hooray for tofu curry!), it was a rather soul-suckingly boring day.
Off tomorrow, though, so if the weather is nice (it's supposed to rain, so I assume that it will be) I'll probably take the boys to do something fun.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
I just got this from my good friend and former boss, who has been an Athens resident since the mid-eighties. I love it. Aside from the fact that I have always loved Chunklet anyway, the music is super cool, and now I feel inspired to go watch Athens, GA Inside Out again. I still haven't finished reading Party Out of Bounds, largely because I was afraid it would be too depressing as I was heading out, but there are serious gaps in my knowledge of Athens music in the early days.
One of the reasons for this is because the music scene is still (and, it seems, has aalways been) so vibrant that I didn't have time. I was so busy watching history being made that I didn't have time to go back. I recently discovered a couple new bloggers who are just getting started on their musical journeys, and I felt a little jealous. I remember when I wasn't lazy and jaded. I remember the shock of hearing, for the first time, somebody saying they didn't want to walk "all the way" (half a mile, at most) down to the 40 Watt to see a really great band. And I remember feeling the same way not long after that.
I remember the first show I saw in Athens. Cafeteria played at Allen's when I was visiting a friend. The first show I saw after I moved there (huh- I just typed "here", because I still feel like I am there) was The Lures at The Caledonia. I called my friend in Chicago from the patio to tell him that the drummer had sung every note of "Joey" by Concrete Blonde and not missed a beat. I was floored. But now Clay is well, just Clay.
In the nine years I spent living in Athens, I saw brilliant bands come and go. I watched FFS become Modern Skirts an The Redbelly Band become Dead Confederate. I saw the first show The Whigs ever played, Caught Patterson Hood solo for two bucks at Nowhere Bar on a Thursday night(and bought his solo CD, which at the time was a burned copy from his home computer in a cardboard sleeve), and watched The (shirtless) Star Rooms Boys play their last show to a packed Tasty World. I saw the Glands there, too, as a matter of fact. I can't say which show had more people, but I'm glad the fire marshal didn't show.
These are just a few of the hundreds of amazing shows and bands I've seen, and mine is an experience that encompasses just a tiny sliver of what was happening during the time when I lived there, which in itself is a tiny sliver of time. And yes, I admit that I got lazy. I just got spoiled having good bands playing so often. It wasn't until I knew for certain that I was leaving that I started going out to shows several nights a week again. I guess it's better that I got away for awhile. Living in a place with little or no music scene has already upped my appreciation of Athens.
I wonder if anybody will ever make another Athens music documentary. And if they do, I wonder who'll be in it. No matter who it is, things will be left out. You just can't capture it all.
One of the reasons for this is because the music scene is still (and, it seems, has aalways been) so vibrant that I didn't have time. I was so busy watching history being made that I didn't have time to go back. I recently discovered a couple new bloggers who are just getting started on their musical journeys, and I felt a little jealous. I remember when I wasn't lazy and jaded. I remember the shock of hearing, for the first time, somebody saying they didn't want to walk "all the way" (half a mile, at most) down to the 40 Watt to see a really great band. And I remember feeling the same way not long after that.
I remember the first show I saw in Athens. Cafeteria played at Allen's when I was visiting a friend. The first show I saw after I moved there (huh- I just typed "here", because I still feel like I am there) was The Lures at The Caledonia. I called my friend in Chicago from the patio to tell him that the drummer had sung every note of "Joey" by Concrete Blonde and not missed a beat. I was floored. But now Clay is well, just Clay.
In the nine years I spent living in Athens, I saw brilliant bands come and go. I watched FFS become Modern Skirts an The Redbelly Band become Dead Confederate. I saw the first show The Whigs ever played, Caught Patterson Hood solo for two bucks at Nowhere Bar on a Thursday night(and bought his solo CD, which at the time was a burned copy from his home computer in a cardboard sleeve), and watched The (shirtless) Star Rooms Boys play their last show to a packed Tasty World. I saw the Glands there, too, as a matter of fact. I can't say which show had more people, but I'm glad the fire marshal didn't show.
These are just a few of the hundreds of amazing shows and bands I've seen, and mine is an experience that encompasses just a tiny sliver of what was happening during the time when I lived there, which in itself is a tiny sliver of time. And yes, I admit that I got lazy. I just got spoiled having good bands playing so often. It wasn't until I knew for certain that I was leaving that I started going out to shows several nights a week again. I guess it's better that I got away for awhile. Living in a place with little or no music scene has already upped my appreciation of Athens.
I wonder if anybody will ever make another Athens music documentary. And if they do, I wonder who'll be in it. No matter who it is, things will be left out. You just can't capture it all.
Auto (But Not Erotic).
As I post this next paragraph, I am hoping that someday I will look back on this situation and it will all seem funny.
Cars are a lot like men for me. I have had a lot of shitty cars in my life, and I have loved them all despite (because of?) their quirks, and I have at least one story to tell about each of them. Also, I have learned something new from every one, whether it was how to change a tire (1979 Chevy Malibu, my first car, in which I blew two tires at high speeds); how to parallel park (I already knew how, but I perfected this skill in my 1985 Oldsmobile Delta 88, because it was huge and I lived in the city at the time); how to break in using a coat hanger (also the Olds); how to change the oil (I was so broke when I had my 1982 Carolla, which my friend Dave gave to me out of the kindness of his heart, that I couldn't afford to have it done professionally. From this experience I also learned the value of having it done professionally); and finally, how to change spark plugs (1989 Mercury Grand Marquis, purchased for 25 cents from a neighbor, also out of the kindness of his heart).
My current car is a '96 Carolla. It is by far the nicest car I have ever owned, despite some bumps and bruises and only one and a half functioning speakers (most likely thanks to my nephew, who drove this car as a teenager whenever his mom would let him). It doesn't have power windows or locks or cruise control, but it does have air-conditioning, a clean interior (aside from the dog hair, I mean), it gets fantastic gas mileage, and it runs and runs and runs. It has not required a lot in the way of repairs, and I have put nearly a hundred thousand miles on it since I got it. This car has taken us back and forth between Chicago and Athens countless times in all weather. It has been to Texas and Mississippi and Tennessee and North and South Carolina, as well as Alabama, Louisiana, and of course every corner of Georgia. It stood by me through prolonged periods without money and oil changes, has never (knock wood) run out of gas no matter how far I pushed it, and it got me all the way to chilly Vermont after just having returned from several hot days in New Orleans without complaint.
And now- well, now it seems that we may have to part ways. Had we stayed in Georgia, this car would probably have stayed with me for several more years. But within the first week of our arrival, I bumped an already bruised quarter panel while backing out of our new driveway and a bolt that was barely hanging on finally gave. So now whenever I turn right the tire scrapes, just a little, on the plastic flap inside the wheel well. Also, the windshield is cracked. It has been for several months, thanks to a tiny rock flying off the back of a truck one day on 316, but it has now spiderwebbed to the point that it really needs to be replaced. Also, there is the issue of the tires. I would have needed new ones this year (or early next) anyway, but Vermont is a whole new ballgame. I am going to need a separate set of tires just to get up the hill to my house this winter. I have never required them before, but apparently, snow tires are expensive. So that's two sets. And now, the nail in the proverbial coffin, my gas tank is leaking. The mechanic said that it is spliiting at the seam. It isn't dangerous, but unless I keep it under half a tank, it drips. And that's bad for the environment, and it's wasteful, and it smells bad. So I'm keeping it under half a tank.
The hitch is that I work forty miles away, three days a week. And even with my good mileage, that means I have to stop for gas a lot. And it is getting on my nerves. Between our house and my job there are long, long stretches of interstate (not "car" long, but definitely "walking down the side of the interstate with a gas can in your hand" long) without towns or exits. In the past week, I have somehow managed to find myself on these stretches of road no less than three times with a nearly empty tank. This is not a good feeling. Usually I just turn up the radio and sing out loud to distract myself, since I know damn well that whether or not I worry about it I'm either gonna make it to the next exit or not.
So far I have had good luck. But my luck will not hold out forever. I haven't been like this for a long time. I used to fill the car up every week or ten days no matter how much gas was in it. Just easier to do it when you have time and it's not raining and whatever. But now I don't have a choice. And soon I'm going to have to give that car up. A new gas tank, with labor, costs about a third of what the car is worth. And that doesn't take into consideration the windshield or the tires. Fuuuuuck. Man I hate break-ups. Oh well, at least i still have my marriage.
I'm hoping that I get the job I'm interviewing for on Tuesday, so I can give two weeks' notice to the Local Health Food Store on Wednesday and only have to make that drive six more times. Walking to work would be a very huge and welcome change. Do cross your fingers, okay?
Cars are a lot like men for me. I have had a lot of shitty cars in my life, and I have loved them all despite (because of?) their quirks, and I have at least one story to tell about each of them. Also, I have learned something new from every one, whether it was how to change a tire (1979 Chevy Malibu, my first car, in which I blew two tires at high speeds); how to parallel park (I already knew how, but I perfected this skill in my 1985 Oldsmobile Delta 88, because it was huge and I lived in the city at the time); how to break in using a coat hanger (also the Olds); how to change the oil (I was so broke when I had my 1982 Carolla, which my friend Dave gave to me out of the kindness of his heart, that I couldn't afford to have it done professionally. From this experience I also learned the value of having it done professionally); and finally, how to change spark plugs (1989 Mercury Grand Marquis, purchased for 25 cents from a neighbor, also out of the kindness of his heart).
My current car is a '96 Carolla. It is by far the nicest car I have ever owned, despite some bumps and bruises and only one and a half functioning speakers (most likely thanks to my nephew, who drove this car as a teenager whenever his mom would let him). It doesn't have power windows or locks or cruise control, but it does have air-conditioning, a clean interior (aside from the dog hair, I mean), it gets fantastic gas mileage, and it runs and runs and runs. It has not required a lot in the way of repairs, and I have put nearly a hundred thousand miles on it since I got it. This car has taken us back and forth between Chicago and Athens countless times in all weather. It has been to Texas and Mississippi and Tennessee and North and South Carolina, as well as Alabama, Louisiana, and of course every corner of Georgia. It stood by me through prolonged periods without money and oil changes, has never (knock wood) run out of gas no matter how far I pushed it, and it got me all the way to chilly Vermont after just having returned from several hot days in New Orleans without complaint.
And now- well, now it seems that we may have to part ways. Had we stayed in Georgia, this car would probably have stayed with me for several more years. But within the first week of our arrival, I bumped an already bruised quarter panel while backing out of our new driveway and a bolt that was barely hanging on finally gave. So now whenever I turn right the tire scrapes, just a little, on the plastic flap inside the wheel well. Also, the windshield is cracked. It has been for several months, thanks to a tiny rock flying off the back of a truck one day on 316, but it has now spiderwebbed to the point that it really needs to be replaced. Also, there is the issue of the tires. I would have needed new ones this year (or early next) anyway, but Vermont is a whole new ballgame. I am going to need a separate set of tires just to get up the hill to my house this winter. I have never required them before, but apparently, snow tires are expensive. So that's two sets. And now, the nail in the proverbial coffin, my gas tank is leaking. The mechanic said that it is spliiting at the seam. It isn't dangerous, but unless I keep it under half a tank, it drips. And that's bad for the environment, and it's wasteful, and it smells bad. So I'm keeping it under half a tank.
The hitch is that I work forty miles away, three days a week. And even with my good mileage, that means I have to stop for gas a lot. And it is getting on my nerves. Between our house and my job there are long, long stretches of interstate (not "car" long, but definitely "walking down the side of the interstate with a gas can in your hand" long) without towns or exits. In the past week, I have somehow managed to find myself on these stretches of road no less than three times with a nearly empty tank. This is not a good feeling. Usually I just turn up the radio and sing out loud to distract myself, since I know damn well that whether or not I worry about it I'm either gonna make it to the next exit or not.
So far I have had good luck. But my luck will not hold out forever. I haven't been like this for a long time. I used to fill the car up every week or ten days no matter how much gas was in it. Just easier to do it when you have time and it's not raining and whatever. But now I don't have a choice. And soon I'm going to have to give that car up. A new gas tank, with labor, costs about a third of what the car is worth. And that doesn't take into consideration the windshield or the tires. Fuuuuuck. Man I hate break-ups. Oh well, at least i still have my marriage.
I'm hoping that I get the job I'm interviewing for on Tuesday, so I can give two weeks' notice to the Local Health Food Store on Wednesday and only have to make that drive six more times. Walking to work would be a very huge and welcome change. Do cross your fingers, okay?
Friday, June 26, 2009
There is something so disturbing to me about people who celebrate a person's death. Michael Jackson was fucked up. We all know that. But he never had a chance. He was preyed upon by his own family (and will likely continue to be after his death). Pedophile? Probably. And yes, that is fucked up, but I still feel like being happy he's gone is just weird, and it says more about you than it does him if you're laughing about it. He. Went. Crazy. That's not funny, it's sad. For my part, as a person with Buddhist-ish beliefs, I am happy for him. I think his next life will be much easier.
Also, I can't help but feel like I made some good choices about getting certain people out of my life after reading their remarks on faceb00k.
So yeah. I still need a copy of Off the Wall on vinyl. And I will remember young Michael Jackson because he was one talented motherfucker.
I slept like shit last night for some reason. Consequently, I stayed in bed until ten, listening to the entire hour of BBC news with two fuzzy canine bookends, just enjoying the fan. We missed Dick, the mailman, this morning. The boys heard him pulling up and went crazy, but by the time I got their harnesses on and got downstairs, he was gone. He did leave two dog biscuits with the mail, though. Love that guy.
So I am currently missing Athfest. Boooo. I would appreciate some eyewitness reports from those of you who aren't.
Thanks.
Also, I can't help but feel like I made some good choices about getting certain people out of my life after reading their remarks on faceb00k.
So yeah. I still need a copy of Off the Wall on vinyl. And I will remember young Michael Jackson because he was one talented motherfucker.
I slept like shit last night for some reason. Consequently, I stayed in bed until ten, listening to the entire hour of BBC news with two fuzzy canine bookends, just enjoying the fan. We missed Dick, the mailman, this morning. The boys heard him pulling up and went crazy, but by the time I got their harnesses on and got downstairs, he was gone. He did leave two dog biscuits with the mail, though. Love that guy.
So I am currently missing Athfest. Boooo. I would appreciate some eyewitness reports from those of you who aren't.
Thanks.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
I finally finished The Poe Shadow. Another one from Matthew Pearlman, who wrote The Dante Club, which I absolutely loved. So this one was also good. Not as good, mind you, but it wasn't horrifying and didn't give me nightmares, either. I have always loved Poe and it was interesting to actually read some of the details of his life and death. I had been left with the impression, as most people are, that he dies face down in a gutter and that he was a drunk. Not so. A pretty good read, which is prompting me to drag out my big leatherbound Poe collection. But not before I finish Redemption Song: The Ballad of Joe Strummer. I am enjoying that one, but as I feared it shines some light in corners I may not have wanted to look in.
Also re-reading Confederacy of Dunces. i got it back from my friend Jason just after I returned from New Orleans and just before I moved. Now my good friend MT is reading it, and since we've both just been to New Orleans I thought I'd catch up so we can chat about it. It really is amazing how different it is reading a book when you know the area where it is set. I'm digging it.
The new job is still boring as all getout, but having received my first paycheck in the mail today, I feel slightly more motivated. I have also finally gotten several calls back about other jobs, which is great. I have an interview on Tuesday for a full time thing that's only a few blocks from the house. Hoping for that one. Otherwise it's back to waiting tables. I got a call last night at 9:45 from a catering company whose ad i had answered a full nine days prior, wondering if I was available for a bartending gig this Saturday. They couldn't tell me where, because they had two events, and they were not offering me anything permanent- "the response to our ad on cr@iglist has been so huge that we're not even doing interviews"- but they really really needed me. WTF? How could they be serious? And when I looked back at the website, I realized that the guy I was talking to was THE OWNER. Ridiculous. Unorganized. Stupid. I figure they either suck so much that they can't keep employees, or they are such control freaks that they won't hire somebody to help them schedule staff. Either way, I am not near desperate enough to work for them. Although it is tempting just to see what kind of trainwreck it is. Who the hell do they think they're kidding? The response was so huge that they don't have enough people three days before a wedding? Seriously?!
I went on two walks with Kilgore today. One was early in the day, way back in the woods behind our house. He was exhausted and couldn't wait to get back, which is how I know I went a long way. Wyatt hasn't been feeling well this week and declined to join us. We went again later, this time down the hill of death and into town to walk along a path by the river.
I have finally gotten almost completely organized. this has never happened so quickly after a move, so I guess unemployment has its perks.
We got our first bag from the CSA yesterday. Lots of greens. some fresh dill, radishes and a couple tomatoes. Oh, and garlic scapes, which I had never heard of before, but which I enjoyed thoroughly. This is going to be a great learning experience.
In other news, some of the bulbs I planted are finally sprouting. If they come all the way up there will be photos. Also, there are a ton of these berry bushes (I can't remember what they're called, but I will ask the landlord again) sprouting all over the yard. The flowers are hot pink and just beautiful. I hope the berries make good pie. if not, I will settle for the black and blue berries. But there aren't nearly as many.
Tomorrow I am mostly free to do whatever. There is a festival (food and music) in Burlington that we may decide to go to, but since dogs are not welcome we will likely skip it in favor of something water related. Unless it rains.
And speaking of rain, it has rained a ton since we got here, but never when the weather service says it will. I have never lived in a place where the weather forecast has been so consistently wrong. Bizarre.
Also re-reading Confederacy of Dunces. i got it back from my friend Jason just after I returned from New Orleans and just before I moved. Now my good friend MT is reading it, and since we've both just been to New Orleans I thought I'd catch up so we can chat about it. It really is amazing how different it is reading a book when you know the area where it is set. I'm digging it.
The new job is still boring as all getout, but having received my first paycheck in the mail today, I feel slightly more motivated. I have also finally gotten several calls back about other jobs, which is great. I have an interview on Tuesday for a full time thing that's only a few blocks from the house. Hoping for that one. Otherwise it's back to waiting tables. I got a call last night at 9:45 from a catering company whose ad i had answered a full nine days prior, wondering if I was available for a bartending gig this Saturday. They couldn't tell me where, because they had two events, and they were not offering me anything permanent- "the response to our ad on cr@iglist has been so huge that we're not even doing interviews"- but they really really needed me. WTF? How could they be serious? And when I looked back at the website, I realized that the guy I was talking to was THE OWNER. Ridiculous. Unorganized. Stupid. I figure they either suck so much that they can't keep employees, or they are such control freaks that they won't hire somebody to help them schedule staff. Either way, I am not near desperate enough to work for them. Although it is tempting just to see what kind of trainwreck it is. Who the hell do they think they're kidding? The response was so huge that they don't have enough people three days before a wedding? Seriously?!
I went on two walks with Kilgore today. One was early in the day, way back in the woods behind our house. He was exhausted and couldn't wait to get back, which is how I know I went a long way. Wyatt hasn't been feeling well this week and declined to join us. We went again later, this time down the hill of death and into town to walk along a path by the river.
I have finally gotten almost completely organized. this has never happened so quickly after a move, so I guess unemployment has its perks.
We got our first bag from the CSA yesterday. Lots of greens. some fresh dill, radishes and a couple tomatoes. Oh, and garlic scapes, which I had never heard of before, but which I enjoyed thoroughly. This is going to be a great learning experience.
In other news, some of the bulbs I planted are finally sprouting. If they come all the way up there will be photos. Also, there are a ton of these berry bushes (I can't remember what they're called, but I will ask the landlord again) sprouting all over the yard. The flowers are hot pink and just beautiful. I hope the berries make good pie. if not, I will settle for the black and blue berries. But there aren't nearly as many.
Tomorrow I am mostly free to do whatever. There is a festival (food and music) in Burlington that we may decide to go to, but since dogs are not welcome we will likely skip it in favor of something water related. Unless it rains.
And speaking of rain, it has rained a ton since we got here, but never when the weather service says it will. I have never lived in a place where the weather forecast has been so consistently wrong. Bizarre.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
So I started my new job this week. It's at a Local Natural Food Store. Well, it's at a store that is locally owned in a town 40 miles away from here, anyway. It's really a great place, and so far I like many of my co-workers, but it is so positively boring that I want to shoot myself. Yesterday was my first full day, and after about half an hour I was completely finished with all of my duties. Time went slowly after that. I re-organized the back stock, and then almost immediately resorted to wiping down shelves and polishing glasses. I think I might have scared a few customers with the desperate tone in my voice when I asked if they needed any help. Also, I am not terribly familiar with the stock at this store yet, so I was not much help. I was told by one of my new co-workers that I should feel free to fuck off.
"It's pretty loose around here," she said, smiling. This is not what I am used to, nor is it what I want to hear. I found a computer I could use to look up some of the wines and educate myself a bit.
Today was so long that I felt like crying. Were it not for the fact that the entire store hovers around fifty degrees, I am certain I would have fallen asleep on my feet. The good news is that I got free food from the cafe. Unsold breakfast items go to the break room at 1:30 for general consumption. I consumed.
I got home and immediately sent my resume to yet another company advertising on cr@igslist. Please to cross your fingers for me. Our car isn't going to make it to this winter and if I could work in town I wouldn't need to drive at all.
Last night we went to see our first rock show in Vermont. It was actually local, at a place called Lamb Abbey. It was fitting that our first VT show coincided with the first Athfest I've missed in nine years.(Note: Athfest is next weekend. See how out of the loop I am already?) The band was called Wussy, and they were fantastic. All kinds of fun. The crowd was older, which was unusual and really nice. And everyone was really excited just to have a show, so there were a lot of people dancing and going crazy. The place is not for profit. They don't have official NFP status yet, but it is meant to be a performance space, so there was a suggested donation at the door and the show was BYOB. Though the ticket price was twice what it would be in Athens, the money all went straight to the bands and since we didn't have to (and couldn't if we wanted to) buy drinks or tip, it wound up being very inexpensive. All in all a great experience and one we hope we can repeat with at least some regularity.
That being said, I stayed up late and now I'm tired and I desperately need a beer, so I'm off.
"It's pretty loose around here," she said, smiling. This is not what I am used to, nor is it what I want to hear. I found a computer I could use to look up some of the wines and educate myself a bit.
Today was so long that I felt like crying. Were it not for the fact that the entire store hovers around fifty degrees, I am certain I would have fallen asleep on my feet. The good news is that I got free food from the cafe. Unsold breakfast items go to the break room at 1:30 for general consumption. I consumed.
I got home and immediately sent my resume to yet another company advertising on cr@igslist. Please to cross your fingers for me. Our car isn't going to make it to this winter and if I could work in town I wouldn't need to drive at all.
Last night we went to see our first rock show in Vermont. It was actually local, at a place called Lamb Abbey. It was fitting that our first VT show coincided with the first Athfest I've missed in nine years.(Note: Athfest is next weekend. See how out of the loop I am already?) The band was called Wussy, and they were fantastic. All kinds of fun. The crowd was older, which was unusual and really nice. And everyone was really excited just to have a show, so there were a lot of people dancing and going crazy. The place is not for profit. They don't have official NFP status yet, but it is meant to be a performance space, so there was a suggested donation at the door and the show was BYOB. Though the ticket price was twice what it would be in Athens, the money all went straight to the bands and since we didn't have to (and couldn't if we wanted to) buy drinks or tip, it wound up being very inexpensive. All in all a great experience and one we hope we can repeat with at least some regularity.
That being said, I stayed up late and now I'm tired and I desperately need a beer, so I'm off.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
We just got back from dinner. The school that b.h. goes to runs several restaurants in town, and we ate at one this evening. They have a tapas-style menu in their downstairs lounge, which we loved. I tried a tiny piece of swordfish and decided that I am still a vegetarian. At first it tasted like grill, then there was an aftertaste that I just couldn't abide- flesh, I guess. Anyway.
So far i love the new job. Easy to say after a couple hours of orientation, i suppose. But I like the vibe at this place. And despite the drive, I think it will be worth it. They have a system by which employees get to take home any food that is not suitable for selling. This will likely wind up making up for the five bucks in gas I will spend to get there. Today I saw bread from the bakery, fresh fruit, some kind of cheesecake, meat (this gets kept in a freezer and you take it on your way out), some organic roasted red peppers, and cookies. At very least I won't have to buy lunch. And they carry Mrs. Meyers cleaning products, too. Woot!
Also, I located a Thrift store about three blocks from the store, and another that's just a couple miles away. Not that I am planning on collecting any more coffee cups or vintage ashtrays, but they had a decent selection of clothes, and that makes me happy.
My new boss is going on vacation next week, which is hilarious because that is exactly what happened when I got my last job. Except this time they won't have me coming in every day. Honestly, I don't know how i will fill my time in the department at this point. There is so little back stock that I won't have a lot of lifting and shuffling. Should be interesting.
I did taste six wines today while I was there for orientation. My boss and I discussed them after the salesman had left, and we had similar reactions. This is probably a good thing. I had fallen out of spitting practice, though, and I did manage to get a drop on my shirt. Red, of course.
Okay, so my phone is ringing and I don't know where it is. I guess I should go.
So far i love the new job. Easy to say after a couple hours of orientation, i suppose. But I like the vibe at this place. And despite the drive, I think it will be worth it. They have a system by which employees get to take home any food that is not suitable for selling. This will likely wind up making up for the five bucks in gas I will spend to get there. Today I saw bread from the bakery, fresh fruit, some kind of cheesecake, meat (this gets kept in a freezer and you take it on your way out), some organic roasted red peppers, and cookies. At very least I won't have to buy lunch. And they carry Mrs. Meyers cleaning products, too. Woot!
Also, I located a Thrift store about three blocks from the store, and another that's just a couple miles away. Not that I am planning on collecting any more coffee cups or vintage ashtrays, but they had a decent selection of clothes, and that makes me happy.
My new boss is going on vacation next week, which is hilarious because that is exactly what happened when I got my last job. Except this time they won't have me coming in every day. Honestly, I don't know how i will fill my time in the department at this point. There is so little back stock that I won't have a lot of lifting and shuffling. Should be interesting.
I did taste six wines today while I was there for orientation. My boss and I discussed them after the salesman had left, and we had similar reactions. This is probably a good thing. I had fallen out of spitting practice, though, and I did manage to get a drop on my shirt. Red, of course.
Okay, so my phone is ringing and I don't know where it is. I guess I should go.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Oh my god where does the time go?
So I got a job. Part time, far away, but involving beer and wine. So good. Our car is not well, so I'm dealing with that. It seems that the gas tank is splitting at the seam, so i can drive it, but I can't put more than half a tank of gas in at a time or it leaks all over. So yeah. That's fun.
Honestly, I have spent so much time looking for a job and trying to figure out where everything is and reading about Iran that by the time I think of posting I am sick to death of looking at the computer. I have been following the election closely and can't seem to stop compulsively looking at Andrew Sullivan's blog to find out what is going on over there. I worry, perhaps too much. I wish there was something I could do. I remember how shitty I felt after both stolen U.S. elections (call me whatever you want to- I am convinced), and that was without the shutting down of communication with the outside world and having people shot on the streets for protesting. I feel unusually strongly about it all and it is difficult to process. If i were a woman of faith, I would be praying. Not having been blessed with faith, I resort to the equivalent of a lot of finger crossing. Ugh. This is a huge moment in history.
On a lighter note, I went to the DMV today to apply for an enhanced driver's license, which is one that will get me back and forth across the Canadian border. So I've got that going for me.
Other than that, I spend my time walking in the woods with the dogs, looking for more work, and wondering how in fuck I am going to afford a new car (which I will need before winter) when I don't even make enough money to pay the rent right now. I am remarkably calm in light of these facts.
Carry on.
So I got a job. Part time, far away, but involving beer and wine. So good. Our car is not well, so I'm dealing with that. It seems that the gas tank is splitting at the seam, so i can drive it, but I can't put more than half a tank of gas in at a time or it leaks all over. So yeah. That's fun.
Honestly, I have spent so much time looking for a job and trying to figure out where everything is and reading about Iran that by the time I think of posting I am sick to death of looking at the computer. I have been following the election closely and can't seem to stop compulsively looking at Andrew Sullivan's blog to find out what is going on over there. I worry, perhaps too much. I wish there was something I could do. I remember how shitty I felt after both stolen U.S. elections (call me whatever you want to- I am convinced), and that was without the shutting down of communication with the outside world and having people shot on the streets for protesting. I feel unusually strongly about it all and it is difficult to process. If i were a woman of faith, I would be praying. Not having been blessed with faith, I resort to the equivalent of a lot of finger crossing. Ugh. This is a huge moment in history.
On a lighter note, I went to the DMV today to apply for an enhanced driver's license, which is one that will get me back and forth across the Canadian border. So I've got that going for me.
Other than that, I spend my time walking in the woods with the dogs, looking for more work, and wondering how in fuck I am going to afford a new car (which I will need before winter) when I don't even make enough money to pay the rent right now. I am remarkably calm in light of these facts.
Carry on.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
I'm finally internetting from the house, which means- yep, you guessed it- photo time! Yay!
First up, a view from the bottom of our hill, which I have dubbed "The Ass Burner":
I remarked today after the b.h. and I returned from the grocery store that it was good we hadn't bought any new pants before we left. I suspect a month or two of this thing will mean smaller sizes for both of us.
This is the view looking back from about halfway up:
And one from the top:
The very bottom of this picture is where the last one was taken from. This thing is serious.
And the end result:
The funny thing is that the path into the (miles and miles of) woods behind our house is almost vertical, but for some reason it doesn't seem to hurt the way the Ass burner does. Maybe because on the way home from the woods you go down hill. I'll try to get some pictures of that path later in the week.
First up, a view from the bottom of our hill, which I have dubbed "The Ass Burner":
I remarked today after the b.h. and I returned from the grocery store that it was good we hadn't bought any new pants before we left. I suspect a month or two of this thing will mean smaller sizes for both of us.
This is the view looking back from about halfway up:
And one from the top:
The very bottom of this picture is where the last one was taken from. This thing is serious.
And the end result:
The funny thing is that the path into the (miles and miles of) woods behind our house is almost vertical, but for some reason it doesn't seem to hurt the way the Ass burner does. Maybe because on the way home from the woods you go down hill. I'll try to get some pictures of that path later in the week.
Monday, June 08, 2009
Employment?
From the local classifieds:
Big Top Tour Cook!
Run away with the circus this year as a Big Top
Cook!
Working from our 8' x 18' fully-equipped mobile
kitchen, you will be responsible for helping to
provide nutritious, tasty, filling and economical
meals for the cast and crew of the Circus Smirkus
Big Top Tour. Following the rehearsal period in
Greensboro, VT, the tour travels throughout New
England. Prior food service experience required.
Big Top Tour Cook!
Run away with the circus this year as a Big Top
Cook!
Working from our 8' x 18' fully-equipped mobile
kitchen, you will be responsible for helping to
provide nutritious, tasty, filling and economical
meals for the cast and crew of the Circus Smirkus
Big Top Tour. Following the rehearsal period in
Greensboro, VT, the tour travels throughout New
England. Prior food service experience required.
Sunday, June 07, 2009
Greetings from the Green Mountain State.
So I'm sitting in a bakery, which is run by the Culinary School. I have just inhaled a spinach and cheese croissant (I tried very hard to pause and really savor it, but it was small and delicious and I was hungry), and am working my way through a very large cup of coffee.
Since we last spoke, I have driven from Athens to New Orleans and back, stopping to eat and rock and walk and walk and walk and eat and drink too much coffee and take a bunch of pictures and talk to a voodoo priest. More on this later.
After that I ate again at El Sol, packed things into boxes, went out for a final drink with several co-workers, who are very generous and lovely people that I will miss, came home and packed more, slept fitfully, picked up a Monstrous 24 foot Moving Truck drove it, white knuckled, back to the house and up our impossibly overgrown driveway, packed more, packed the truck (with the help of some of those co-workers I mentioned previously), forgot some things, left some things, had a "yard sale" and a final farewell at Happy Hour at Flicker, packed some more, slept a little, packed some more, cleaned as much as possible (but not nearly enough- apologies to John), and finally hit the road only two hours later than planned.
The first day was not difficult, once we got going and I got used to driving said Monstrous Truck. The dogs were in our car with the b.h.'s sister and her fiance'. They were having a good time. We switched vehicles somewhere in North Carolina, and I drove the car into D.C., where we stayed the night. We slept at said sister & fiance's apartment, got up early, and drove again. This time I started the day driving the car, which was a huge relief because as you may or may not be aware, Pennsylvania is chock full of mountains and they were foggy and the roads were crowded and I was glad not to be piloting the Monstrous Truck through them. Glad, that is, until it was my turn to drive the Monstrous Truck and it started to rain. And then it got dark, and there are actually quite a few mountains in this state as well- thus the name, I guess.
Anyway, it was scary, but we made it, and when we got here the exit felt like a vertical drop rather than a ramp, and we discovered that our street is better for goats than people, and probably not good at all for Monstrous Trucks.
Our landlord was waiting for us at the house, which we had seen only in pictures up to that point. It was smaller than I expected, but not smaller than the house we had just moved out of. There were small things that you wouldn't notice in pictures- peeling wallpaper here, non-existent heat vents there, and the fact that the whole place leans, and not necessarily in the same direction- but overall we were happy. Mostly we were exhausted. Also, it had taken longer to get here than we expected, so it was dark and we couldn't get our beds out of the truck. We slept on dog beds and piles of blankets in the middle of the living room. I woke up nose to nose with Wyatt. I am not sure which of us had worse breath.
We were smart enough to hire some help, and two hours later two Very Lanky Movers appeared at the door. They backed the Monstrous Truck into the driveway and began emptying it right away. Two hours later, the truck was empty and the furniture in place, the rest of the house piled high with boxes. The Very Lanky Movers were magical. The only thing that even slowed them slightly was the Giant Oak Bookcase, which they dead-lifted twice and maneuvered through three doorways with nary a complaint. Beautiful. If you ever need to move, let me know. I'll give you their number.
Since we last spoke, I have driven from Athens to New Orleans and back, stopping to eat and rock and walk and walk and walk and eat and drink too much coffee and take a bunch of pictures and talk to a voodoo priest. More on this later.
After that I ate again at El Sol, packed things into boxes, went out for a final drink with several co-workers, who are very generous and lovely people that I will miss, came home and packed more, slept fitfully, picked up a Monstrous 24 foot Moving Truck drove it, white knuckled, back to the house and up our impossibly overgrown driveway, packed more, packed the truck (with the help of some of those co-workers I mentioned previously), forgot some things, left some things, had a "yard sale" and a final farewell at Happy Hour at Flicker, packed some more, slept a little, packed some more, cleaned as much as possible (but not nearly enough- apologies to John), and finally hit the road only two hours later than planned.
The first day was not difficult, once we got going and I got used to driving said Monstrous Truck. The dogs were in our car with the b.h.'s sister and her fiance'. They were having a good time. We switched vehicles somewhere in North Carolina, and I drove the car into D.C., where we stayed the night. We slept at said sister & fiance's apartment, got up early, and drove again. This time I started the day driving the car, which was a huge relief because as you may or may not be aware, Pennsylvania is chock full of mountains and they were foggy and the roads were crowded and I was glad not to be piloting the Monstrous Truck through them. Glad, that is, until it was my turn to drive the Monstrous Truck and it started to rain. And then it got dark, and there are actually quite a few mountains in this state as well- thus the name, I guess.
Anyway, it was scary, but we made it, and when we got here the exit felt like a vertical drop rather than a ramp, and we discovered that our street is better for goats than people, and probably not good at all for Monstrous Trucks.
Our landlord was waiting for us at the house, which we had seen only in pictures up to that point. It was smaller than I expected, but not smaller than the house we had just moved out of. There were small things that you wouldn't notice in pictures- peeling wallpaper here, non-existent heat vents there, and the fact that the whole place leans, and not necessarily in the same direction- but overall we were happy. Mostly we were exhausted. Also, it had taken longer to get here than we expected, so it was dark and we couldn't get our beds out of the truck. We slept on dog beds and piles of blankets in the middle of the living room. I woke up nose to nose with Wyatt. I am not sure which of us had worse breath.
We were smart enough to hire some help, and two hours later two Very Lanky Movers appeared at the door. They backed the Monstrous Truck into the driveway and began emptying it right away. Two hours later, the truck was empty and the furniture in place, the rest of the house piled high with boxes. The Very Lanky Movers were magical. The only thing that even slowed them slightly was the Giant Oak Bookcase, which they dead-lifted twice and maneuvered through three doorways with nary a complaint. Beautiful. If you ever need to move, let me know. I'll give you their number.
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