So small I’m almost standing outside. February 29, 2008

I’m filling out an application for a community college. It’s one I’ve filled out a million times before for no real reason. This school’s human resources department doesn’t keep applications online for whatever reason and, instead, you have to fax or mail a paper application for every job for which you apply. Some stroke of luck made them email me today with attachments of the two part paper application in Word document form. Now I am filling them out online and can at least keep the stupid thing on file so whenever I apply for another job with them (to go along with the 20 other jobs I’ve already submitted my profile to) I can print this up.
Now all I need to do is figure out how this new all-in-one fax machine, printer, copier, scanner thing works as far as actual faxing goes.

So I messed with EntreCard and I think I got it working but I still have no idea how to get AdSense to work at all. Nothing displays. I’ve tried the AdSense Manager and just the code given to me by Google but, it’s worthless. I don’t understand channels and nothing I investigate on what channels are will give me a simple explanation. It’s always, “A channel is used for and you create one this way and you optimize them this way…” Way too much bother for one thing. I don’t even understand what it does so I can’t even want to learn about it. It’s not a link exchange obviously and disabling my pop-up blocker and spam software is totally not worth it to me, just to show a 180 pixel sized box on my site somewhere. Sigh…

The applications have been filled out and apparently I can send a Word document via the FAX machine in “print mode” or I can, as I had to with my most recent application, scan twelve individual pages and then send them via FAX. Oh well, at least it’s done.

The blog entry title is something random I picked up from my Tilt CD that’s sitting on my desk. The lyrics are appropriate seeing as I’m driving myself crazy with being in the house ALL. THE. TIME. “Pismal little pad. So small I’m almost standing outside.”

Maybe I’m having that single girl crisis where she stops and realizes that all of her friends have a relationship but her. It’s unfortunate, but since as long as I can remember, in my days of being “the tall girl with the glass” (I wear contacts and only stand at 5’7″ now, by the way) my girl friends told me over and over that I had to do something to land a boy. Our whole world revolved around hair styles and clothes and parties and being attractive to boys. I was always the one in that weird in-between place. I wasn’t the nerdy girl that the preppy girls made fun of (even though the nerdy girl, Amy, was, honestly, just as pretty as the preppy girls) and I wasn’t the preppy girl like my best friend and our clique. I was the funny one. The entertainment portion of the day. That’s the only way I ever knew how to be. That never works with guys. The smart, nerdy guys that I liked, were pining for the preppy girls. The dirty, hot, bad boys of the group were the ones the preppy girls ran after to no avail. The bad boys hated me and I hated them.
Now it still works the same way. I hate the alcoholic scum bag guys that I find in mass amounts at the club. The nerdy ones are still after the sexy, pin-up girls that they never could get in elementary school and I’m just stuck in between. I’m like median girl; not bitchy or nice, sarcastic but polite, angry but not hateful, opinionated but not rude, cute but not beautiful, not fat or thin, funny but annoying, smart but weird, creative but insecure. There is no section for me to fall into so I can finally feel comfortable. So the boys run out of availability and the friends move into their position as they snatch up the desire to have a comfortable, “normal”, life. Where do I fit in?
At least I’m blessed (and cursed, honestly) to have that desire to be left alone most of the time. But it does create huge disconnects with the rest of the world. I’m not able to be around people for long periods of time because it exhausts me and wears me thin. I have to take days to recuperate from a lot of social activity. You can’t fit in when you’re always running for cover.
So that’s a big thing I’m trying to deal with right now. It’s all a manifestation of being by myself so much, without any resemblance of companionship in site. I’m just plain bored with no one to sit and talk to once in a while. I’m plain annoyed because I don’t have anyone’s attention. That’s what drives me mad. I can’t be entertaining to anyone if I don’t have an audience. No one to talk to about books and movies and television and music and computers. No work, no club, no money, no boyfriend. Just me in my little apartment that I actually started cleaning this week because I needed something to preoccupy myself.
My bathroom has never looked better. Unfortunately it took a lot of money to buy bathroom decor at Target but now I have a new black and white theme going on in there along with the new black sheets I found on clearance, not to mention all the Converse stuff that I limited in my purchases… I want all of it! It makes me want to cut my hair in an asymetrical bob and hang out downtown on a weeknight. Sigh…

I got a flyer on my door this morning saying that when I renew my lease for April, I’ll get that first month’s rent free. Here’s hoping I get some school loans and one of these office jobs soon enough so I can reap the rewards without worrying constantly. At least that’s a big hunk of cash off of my mind. I also got my FPL deposit back so I didn’t have to pay for my electricity this month. But I still don’t understand my damn phone bill. I changed service so I wasn’t paying as much money for long distance that I didn’t need and now, this month, my bill is only $4 less than it was before. WTH?

And I didn’t watch Lost last night. Oh well.

Photo credit: deloresdefacto

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Light up. As if you had a choice. February 26, 2008

While I have a chance to update on the wonderful world of Disney central…

• Nuke plant shutdown causes Fla. outages
• As many as 3 million persons are without power, the state says
• Tornado watch issued for Central Florida

So this morning it was preparation for storm that started in Georgia and slowly moved down into St. Augustine and Orlando. Now, by 3 o’clock, it’s massive power outages that will help to make things even more hesitant and chaotic. Thanks be to God that I have my A/C still working. I took my shower while I could and turned the refrigerator temperature up a bit, just in case. (Of course I finally went to the store on Sunday and stocked up so I have plenty of food in there that could spoil if not kept cold. I should have stayed home and watched the Oscars instead.) I am pleased with myself though, that I decided to spend the ten bucks on the LED nightlight slash flashlight slash emergency light when I was at the pharmacy last week.

Not that I keep up with the blog all that much, not as much as I usually do, or should. But, if I’m not back updating Twitter or Pownce after a while, you’ll know that we had major electrical problems around here. Sigh…and it’s not even hurricane season. At least it’s not in the dead heat of summer when these problems usually arise. Ugh.

Photo credit: Yahoo! News

http://www.deloresdefacto.com/?p=69

You’re not hopeless or helpless February 18, 2008

Well it’s about time I updated around here. There’s a new version of WordPress that I have yet to install (even though the numbers “3.3” are very intriguing.)
I just haven’t felt like posting in here for a while. It seems these posts are getting done weekly but I’ve overstepped that mark. I was going to post something for Valentine’s Day but the weekend showed up with some things to do, making me totally wiped out, so on our President’s Day, I’m able to feel like it’s sort of a weekday and sort of a good day to list my personal info as of late.

• On Valentine’s Day, I went to dinner with my parents (which isn’t so tragic seeing as that chick from Heroes did the same thing and didn’t go on a date with that hot guy from the Fergie video instead.) I went shopping for something to wear for the next day (an interview) and picked up a $5 skirt, a $15 sweater and a $12 pair of shoes. Not bad. I washed a bunch of my black clothes as well, just in case I wasn’t happy with my first choice in outfits (which is generally the case.) I watched Lost by myself because Fran was at choir practice. I had predicted that Sayid was one of the “Oceanic Six” and won that bet last Thursday. Now we’ll see if my prediction that Jin will be the one to die this season, leaving the “Six” to be: Jack, Kate, Hurley, Sayid, Saywer and Locke.
• On Friday morning I went on an interview for a little office assistant’s job. (I decided on my Sketcher’s instead of the new shoes. I just can’t do heels anymore unless absolutely necessary.) The interview was for the library computer databases for the public school, housed at the university. Something I could totally do but Lord knows if this will pan out. They called and left a message before I got home about one of my references (so maybe that’s a good thing). I left a message back, explaining that she was my assistant principal at my old school and left the number. Now, we’ll see what she has to say I guess. If they call me either way, I’ll ask about it. I’m dying of curiosity. I would just love to know if that Gossip Girl theme is still running rampant over there or if they’ve finally gotten sick of picking on me like I’m a 14 year old band geek. Sigh… I wonder how long that past will plague me.
• After my interview I went to Barnes & Noble finally and spent a long time decided what to get with my Valentine’s cash (since I’m on a diet now, this is what I asked for over chocolate.) After picking up and putting back, I finally settled on $40 worth of books and a Vogue magazine. (It has Kate Bosworth on the cover. I bought it to encourage my calorie counting and desire to be pretty enough to score Orlando Bloom. Just something to fret myself over until I have other things to thing about. Right now, that’s all I have, which is annoying, because now I’m getting more in the mindset of, “average girls like me shouldn’t even bother trying to be pretty…it’ll never turn out this well.” Sigh…)
• After my book shopping trip, I decided to stop at Target to look, specifically, for notebooks. I’ve resolved my obsession to a specific element: one subject, wide ruled. They’re simple and cheap and I can mess them up all I want without feeling some guilt for ruining those pretty $30 leather bound journals that I kept trying to use. Yes, I’m sure this is some weird personality defect but it works for me so I go with it. Now I have a single objective in every stationary section of each store. But of course, my being hyper-focus got shattered when this man my father’s age decided to chat with me about his notebook preference. Now, being raised to be courteous and empathetic and to take into account that he probably just wanted someone to talk to and, I, like my mother, in that round-faced, friendly demeanor, got pick out to be the one this guy decided to talk to. So there I was, trying to be polite, in my new $5 English tweed skirt and black sweater, looking at the Pirates of the Caribbean notebooks, this guy told me all about how he likes to use the plain notebooks with the perforated edges so he can write out all of his bill payments, rip the page out, put it in his pocket, and then go to the bank. After a while, I tried to not making direct eye contact routine and utter the “uh-huh”s every so often so he’d get the idea that this was his time to get what he needed, stop talking to me and, more importantly, get out of my way because he was standing there in front of the notebooks with his cart. He did not get the idea. (Why is it that when you try to ignore someone, it gives them a sign to keep bugging you instead of getting the picture that being cordial and being interested are two separate entities. Ah Morrissey, you were so right; “The more you ignore me, the closer I get, you’re wasting your time.”) After a few minutes of his prattling on, a woman, his wife apparently, disabled with an electronic scooter and oxygen mask, comes in the aisle and starts bitching at him for wanting to buy something silly like a notebook when she had plenty at home that he could use. And for at least ten minutes they went on and on, back and forth, yelling at each other with, “You don’t need that, put it back.” “But it’s just a dollar.” “No, put it back.” “I can’t have something that’s for a dollar?” “No, put it back!” WTF? And this whole time, I’m standing there as the guy is looking at me for some reaction while I try to look around the guy. Most people would have finally said, “For the love of God, get the hell out of my way!” But I waited it out. If they had been cute and old, and the argument had lasted for a second, it would have been amusing. But this was just ridiculous and this wimpy guy who picked any nice looking female to talk to, had to finally throw his $1 purchase back on the shelf when his wife threatened him with, “Fine, then don’t talk to me for the rest of the day!” If there are reasons to not get married, that’s one right there. I refuse to end up some annoying couple who brings attention to themselves in any way possible in any public place because they’re so in to fighting with each other as they do at home. Sheesh.
• I left annoyed by the incident and the fact that my comfortable shopping trip was interrupted. I went to my parents’, talked to Mom for a bit and then went back home to take another nap.
• So Saturday morning I had to get up early again to take the car for it’s first and last transmission fluid flush. Now, may I remind you that it is 9AM on a Saturday morning and this procedure, without interruption, would take at least 3 hours, making the estimated call back time to be noon. By noon I was asleep again (I just could not get myself awake for two days) and there was a message simply saying for me to call them back. No, “you can pick up your car now.” No “there was a problem and the full service couldn’t be given.” Nothing other than, “call back.” So by the time I called back at one o’clock, the main office said the service center was closed. What? I asked how, on a three day weekend, am I suppose to pick up my car when they’re closed. The main office said, “Well, if it’s done, you can come and get it.” No idea if it was done or not but I drove over there, annoyed and ready to raise hell (being a woman in a hormonal rage is really something to marvel at; men just can never understand) and reported to the first person I saw sitting at a desk that I needed my car. So, some nice old salesman takes me to the service department, says that my bill is only for half of what I anticipated (which is good but it means something was wrong and they didn’t do what they intended) and I was given back my key. But I had to leave it there because I had my mother’s car and instead of Dad taking her to meet me there, I had to drive all the way across town, pick Mom up, drive back to the dealership, pick up the car, arrange all of my CDs (yes, I put them in my bag for that whole day, just in case I needed all of them) and headed back home, back across town. I hate taking the car to get worked on. It’s one of the most annoying tasks on the planet. I’ve also vowed to never take something for an appointment on a Saturday because everything closes early. Last time I tried this was when the cat had an appointment to get his shots at 12:15 and they closed at one. By the time I got there, like 15 minutes late, they reported that they were ready to close and I would have to make another appointment. After those two days, I stayed in bed for the remainder of Saturday night, watching old, Southern, chick flicks (Steel Magnolias and Fried Green Tomatoes, specifically; personal, favorite classics that I’ve seen a million times since I was in high school. Speaking of which, Gone with the Wind is on again tonight; my favorite of all time!)
• Sunday, yesterday, was less than eventful. I was tired and groggy all day and didn’t go anywhere until later in the day when I went to my parents’ for dinner. I could have gone to the store because I need more low calorie snacks (because I’ve eaten all of what I originally had all ready.) But that will have to wait until late tonight or tomorrow. I did, however, update my Flickr page and put up some more Florida, urban, random pictures in my album.
• This morning, I got up at nine something and then watched Sunset Blvd. in its entirety for the first time. I decided that in order to make a good story, it has to be a tragic telling of the main character after their death. For example: American Beauty, The End of the Affair and Atonement to name a few.
• Now I’m sitting here, trying to update this blog, trying to decide which of the many around the apartment tasks I want to get to first and trying to get started going on the books I have to read for my class. I’ve talked to my professor and he said it’s fine for me to want to try my hand at the simplistic prose so he gave me some book suggestions. One of the things I have to do is go to the library and pick up the six books I have waiting for me that I put on hold last week. I thought the library would be closed today but I guess the President’s Day isn’t as sacred anymore. Hhmm.
• And finally, I’m still not over this recent picture from The Raconteurs‘ blog. Apparently I’m not the only The Raconteurs profile dark haired girl who would love to take a turn with that boy. Damn. He’s so freaking cute. Too bad there are only a privileged few who can be a supermodel in the platinum ring. One day I’m going to write an essay entitled “Karen Elson, Why Can’t I Be You?”
• I think I need to go back to my feminist novels. I’m starting to perpetuate the self loathing that the entertainment industry wants girls to have. Freaking sucks. Oh well, at least the ones who sit at a desk, working alone can have some consolation that they’re more needed for their mind than their looks. (Or whatever the hell it is that we tell ourselves these days.)

“An example of what?”
“An example of writing. An example of how someone of your station and your generation and your origins writes. An instance.”
“An instance? Am I allowed a word of protest? After all the effort I put into not writing like anyone else?”

Elizabeth Costello by J.M. Coetzee

Photo credit: deloresdefacto

http://www.deloresdefacto.com/?p=68

So worry not, all things are well February 4, 2008

Ah, and so the panic begins. I have applied to some sort of job online every day for eons now and nothing other than spam and credit companies and telemarketers have passed through my email and voicemail messages. What the hell am I going to do? I guess I will have to apply at Publix this week because I have no money whatsoever, I think my unemployment compensation has run out, I just got my W-2 form so I can file my taxes and get $50 or something back, then I have to apply for financial aid again because I have five more classes, one starting today, that I cannot pay for before I get my degree done.
Incidentally, the two classes I’m taking now are suppose to be my last classes for the program but my advisor says that I still need electives and my grad classes from UCF won’t transfer (and even if they did, it would only be one out of the three). But what the hell do they know? Last time I talked to them they said I couldn’t get any more money from financial aid because they only give so much money to students each year even though the amount they gave me only covered a couple of classes.
Again, it’s the constant beat down. I can’t just live my life, the way I want to. There are a special set of us in the world who get turned down at every possibility. Maybe that’s why they all turned to the life of a starving artist; there’s nothing else to do but express their pain and rejection in the world. Lord knows having a real job isn’t an option. Sigh…
At least my bills for this month are paid up. But the financial cul-de-sac keeps winding tighter. I can’t pay my loans or my credit cards. I just don’t have money to do it. It pisses me off too because all that money I paid before when I did have the money, even when I was using unemployment compensation funds to do it, was to make sure that I kept my credit in tact and didn’t have late fees to be swallowed up in. Now all the money I put into it is erased and I’m way over my limits in late charges and I’ll probably just have to file bankruptcy if I don’t get a decent job this year.
Why is it that I can’t get any work? I even apply to secretary jobs that offer $10 an hour and require only a high school diploma. I must have been blacklisted from all workplaces.

Now, the problem I have with money is all relative. I won’t starve because my parents will make sure I’m fed but man does it come with a price. I’m berated, bitched at, accused of and made to pay some sort of toll for their love and support. It can never be simply out of love and kindness; I have to hear the list of all the things I’m doing wrong, be yelled at about how I am every negative thing a person can be, and when I fight back, I can never win. I will always be some helpless babe in my cul-de-sac. They have raised me to not fear being alone and helpless because they will always be there to support me but they also backlash that positive parenting strategy with the negative idea that I am a clueless child and I cannot do anything without their help. And so I’m sure that is my personality. I resent yet I retreat. I can’t be anything more than the poor little middle class girl who had a working mother and father, a baby sitter, a decent school, a nice home and anything I could possibly want. But that doesn’t always equal stability and happiness, now, does it?
What is it that the nurse tells Susanna Kaysen in Girl, Interrupted? “You are a lazy, self-indulgent, little girl, who is making herself crazy.” I guess that’s how the rest of the world sees me too. {shrug} But I guess there are lots of us running around. I mean most of our parents had to work so that we had what our parents didn’t have. Now some of us are just spoiled and have never had to work hard or worry about being homeless before. The end result is that now we are so self absorbed that we don’t want anyone or need anyone to fight our good fight. Being raised to be independent is great but being torn down when you need help isn’t. But parents are people too; they don’t sit outside of their families and see what’s happening. They are as selfish as the rest of us. At least their children were raised to know better than to put their own family through the same kind of crap.

Photo credit: charlesbodi

http://www.deloresdefacto.com/?p=67