Wednesday is chicken cordon bleu soup at Angie's. I told Sharalen that, and she said she'd be by on Wednesday to have a taste. She invited Sharlee (our cousin) to have a Girls' Night Out, and we agreed on a time.
It was fun. I think we solved the problems of the universe. Actually, girls don't solve problems. Guys do that. It's best if guys solve problems amongst themselves. Girls just need someone to say, "Oh, I can understand how you feel. Gosh, that must be horrible," or "I've been through that before; jee, that's hard." Why is that so hard to grasp?
I notice I get a little more uptight when I am talking to my boyfriend about a problem, and he says, "Have you thought about such-and-thus?" or "What you need to do is . . . " and the translation to me is, "Here's more responsibility," or "If you were smart, you would have already solved your problem elsewise." I don't want to hear that. Something CORRECT would be, "Wow, I can tell you're really worried about that. Let me give you a hug," or "Let's solve that problem a little later when we can both think through it. Right now, let's go for a walk or play a quick game of Uno." Really, the message I want to hear is, "You are validated. You are smart but a little frustrated. And you are beautiful and sweet." I don't need someone to tell me how to think. At least, not when I'm emotional and frustrated about something. I don't think I'm all that weird.
Really, if some guy wants to solve my problems, he can go right ahead on and solve them. Guys just want to tell you what to do. Not that THEY would do the same thing in the situation. It's funny. It makes me laugh.
Even my little brothers do that. They're 7.
Jacob doesn't try to solve my problems. He's a good listener.
Sharalen also shared a secret long forgotten: my first Barbie name. The name was "Sliver." Like the thing that gets stuck under your skin when you rub your hand on a raw piece of wood. Sharalen said I thought it was a pretty name. Actually, I never thought it was a pretty name. I remember naming my Barbie "Sliver," and wanting to change it. I'm pretty sure Melodie said, "Well, if you pick that name, you have to stick with it." I was encouraged to think it was a lovely name, anyway. I remember feeling confused as we played Barbies with a cardboard box being the house. We had little Barbie accessories, like a platter for a roast, and some candle sticks, and an ice tray. We also had dinner plates. All were real metal. Over the years they've gotten lost. But they were really cute. Anyway, Sharalen said that Mom told her that I chose "Sliver" as my Barbie's name, and not to make fun of me about it. Actually, that might have been BETTER, cause then I'd have known FOR SURE that it wasn't even a name!! Children are so gullible.
Sonnet named her pink stuffed cat "Morbo Daunted." Where she came up with that, I think I will never know. She thought it up, though. It's different when you're duped into thinking someone else's creation is fab. Melodie did that stuff to me all the time. I wasn't the kind of kid to catch on.
Sharalen and Sharlee and I had some pie I made that Sharalen bought. Mmm. It was nice and fresh, and CHOCOLATEY! Yes, the other baker and I decided it needed more of a chocolate flavor. We are awesome, pretty much.
I don't remember right off what all other things we talked about. There are a few, but not that I can really expound upon. My head is tired, besides. We chatted for about three hours.
Girls' Night Out is a great treat. I recommend it.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Works for Me!
Welluh . . .
I didn't expect anyone would READ my blog. I sortof started it up because Rachel was writing on hers, and no one read it, and I thought, "Hey, score!!" So I thought I could write ANYTHING I WANTED, mwah hah haaaaaaaaa, but it sounds like I'm all whiny in that last blog. I could have been a lot whinier (I have whine talents that I try not to exercise too much), and I'm glad I wasn't. But I was still whiny. Many apologies!
Fact is, I had two interviews yesterday and they both went well. I interviewed first at the dry cleaning shop down about two blocks from my house. Great location. Full-time. Work that's not too difficult (by the way, the presses they use are NOT prissy little domestic irons -- they are some sort of INCREDIBLE!! The entire ironing BOARD is an iron, that opens and closes like a sandwich, and each has little gadgets you engage to vacuum, close, steam, open, blah blah blah . . . and you have to do it all in the right order. Pretty intense). Anyway, they paid pretty well, too. I spent an hour ironing polo shirts. Yes, polo shirts. I told the owner (the only man in the place) that I'd be leaving now, for I had an interview elsewhere. Then the guilt, "What do I do?" he asked me. Uh, well guess what: I've been applying other places, too. I'd be an idiot if I applied one place and sat around until I heard back from them . . . or not. (Some places don't call you to tell you that they chose someone else, guesswhat. But I'm not blogging about THEM.) I was sortof relieved to leave.
I arrived at Crumb Brothers shortly thereafter. The girl at the front desk greeted me. She had a pink hat on. I knew we could be friends or enemies, but definitely not acquaintances. However, I was escorted to the manager's office. We spoke briefly, and she told me what goes on around there. The bright rays of the afternoon sun flooded the entire facility in such a way as to say, "I love you!" Outside the office, about 4 guys and a girl shaped bread to be baked the next morning. Some of the bread loaves were wrapped in cloth, rather than sitting on an aluminum full-sheet pan over parchment. Every other bakery I've ever worked at used the pan and parchment, except the bakery at Angie's, who is too cheap to use parchment! The manager later explained to me that they use linen (say "linen" to me, and I sigh -- I LOVE linen!) because it has natural oil in it from the flax used to make it. I just about raised my hand with an "Ooh, ooh! I know! I know how they make it!" and described with full detail how reeds are collected and soaked and pounded and soaked and blah blah blah, linen comes out! But I didn't. I just glowed. Almost as bright as the sun coming through the huge windows, but not quite. I'm smaller than the windows. The manager (her name is Jan, and I think I'll call her that from now on) told me that she was sorry she couldn't offer me more money, but there were perks. For example, each employee gets to take home a loaf of bread every day! *sigh* AND, she told me that they don't use ANY commercial yeast in their breads; they make a starter a couple days before, so a loaf of bread will take two days to make. They only have ONE ingredient that's not from scratch, and that's an apricot glaze. That's the only thing they don't MAKE there. They also don't use hydrogenated fats; they only use olive oil and butter. That's why the breads taste so friggin' good!!! And they have a GREAT melt-in-your-mouth pleasurable feel to them. Gosh. I asked her how many people she was going to interview, and she said that she'd interviewed a couple of people, and that if I wanted the job, it's mine. Some sort of squeal of delight I'm sure was heard in some other realm, and I think my spirit jumped out of my body and did a "celebration dance," which the other spirits probably saw and either laughed hysterically or watched with horrific realization that I just don't dance very well. As I left the shop, the girl at the front (her name is Krista) brought me a loaf of ciabatta bread, and a lemon scone and a cinnamon puff. When I'd gone to pick up an application last week, I bought a lemon scone and a cinnamon puff to take with me!! And she REMEMBERED!! I know, that girl in the pink hat is AWESOME!!
I prayed about which job to take. It was hard. Only an idiot would choose the lower-paying, lower-hours, farther-away job (I ride a bike, not a car). But when I reflected on the feelings I had about each interview, the feeling of terror flowed through my sinews as I thought of working full-time at the hot, dark, crowded, dusty dry cleaners for eight hours every day with 5 gossipy women and one male owner. And I thought of working at the front desk for much less money, many fewer hours, 7 blocks away, where the angels were hanging out and singing happy songs, like Earth, Wind, & Fire songs that just make you feel all positive and cheery. I love Earth, Wind, & Fire.
I gave the guy at the cleaners a call and said I'd chosen the other job, and he said, "Okay, that works out just great, then." I thought, "Hm, I guess it's going to work out just fine, then. I don't want to be there, anyway." I called Jan at Crumb Brothers to tell her I'd decided to accept that job, and she said, "Oh, I'm so excited that you'll be working with us!! Can you start tomorrow at 10:00?"
We'll see how it turns out. I'll still be keeping my job at Angie's. She must be the "Dinna Sista." (Like, Crumb Brothers, Dinna Sista . . . Well, I just made it up. I think it's way creative and hilarious.)
Yay!
I didn't expect anyone would READ my blog. I sortof started it up because Rachel was writing on hers, and no one read it, and I thought, "Hey, score!!" So I thought I could write ANYTHING I WANTED, mwah hah haaaaaaaaa, but it sounds like I'm all whiny in that last blog. I could have been a lot whinier (I have whine talents that I try not to exercise too much), and I'm glad I wasn't. But I was still whiny. Many apologies!
Fact is, I had two interviews yesterday and they both went well. I interviewed first at the dry cleaning shop down about two blocks from my house. Great location. Full-time. Work that's not too difficult (by the way, the presses they use are NOT prissy little domestic irons -- they are some sort of INCREDIBLE!! The entire ironing BOARD is an iron, that opens and closes like a sandwich, and each has little gadgets you engage to vacuum, close, steam, open, blah blah blah . . . and you have to do it all in the right order. Pretty intense). Anyway, they paid pretty well, too. I spent an hour ironing polo shirts. Yes, polo shirts. I told the owner (the only man in the place) that I'd be leaving now, for I had an interview elsewhere. Then the guilt, "What do I do?" he asked me. Uh, well guess what: I've been applying other places, too. I'd be an idiot if I applied one place and sat around until I heard back from them . . . or not. (Some places don't call you to tell you that they chose someone else, guesswhat. But I'm not blogging about THEM.) I was sortof relieved to leave.
I arrived at Crumb Brothers shortly thereafter. The girl at the front desk greeted me. She had a pink hat on. I knew we could be friends or enemies, but definitely not acquaintances. However, I was escorted to the manager's office. We spoke briefly, and she told me what goes on around there. The bright rays of the afternoon sun flooded the entire facility in such a way as to say, "I love you!" Outside the office, about 4 guys and a girl shaped bread to be baked the next morning. Some of the bread loaves were wrapped in cloth, rather than sitting on an aluminum full-sheet pan over parchment. Every other bakery I've ever worked at used the pan and parchment, except the bakery at Angie's, who is too cheap to use parchment! The manager later explained to me that they use linen (say "linen" to me, and I sigh -- I LOVE linen!) because it has natural oil in it from the flax used to make it. I just about raised my hand with an "Ooh, ooh! I know! I know how they make it!" and described with full detail how reeds are collected and soaked and pounded and soaked and blah blah blah, linen comes out! But I didn't. I just glowed. Almost as bright as the sun coming through the huge windows, but not quite. I'm smaller than the windows. The manager (her name is Jan, and I think I'll call her that from now on) told me that she was sorry she couldn't offer me more money, but there were perks. For example, each employee gets to take home a loaf of bread every day! *sigh* AND, she told me that they don't use ANY commercial yeast in their breads; they make a starter a couple days before, so a loaf of bread will take two days to make. They only have ONE ingredient that's not from scratch, and that's an apricot glaze. That's the only thing they don't MAKE there. They also don't use hydrogenated fats; they only use olive oil and butter. That's why the breads taste so friggin' good!!! And they have a GREAT melt-in-your-mouth pleasurable feel to them. Gosh. I asked her how many people she was going to interview, and she said that she'd interviewed a couple of people, and that if I wanted the job, it's mine. Some sort of squeal of delight I'm sure was heard in some other realm, and I think my spirit jumped out of my body and did a "celebration dance," which the other spirits probably saw and either laughed hysterically or watched with horrific realization that I just don't dance very well. As I left the shop, the girl at the front (her name is Krista) brought me a loaf of ciabatta bread, and a lemon scone and a cinnamon puff. When I'd gone to pick up an application last week, I bought a lemon scone and a cinnamon puff to take with me!! And she REMEMBERED!! I know, that girl in the pink hat is AWESOME!!
I prayed about which job to take. It was hard. Only an idiot would choose the lower-paying, lower-hours, farther-away job (I ride a bike, not a car). But when I reflected on the feelings I had about each interview, the feeling of terror flowed through my sinews as I thought of working full-time at the hot, dark, crowded, dusty dry cleaners for eight hours every day with 5 gossipy women and one male owner. And I thought of working at the front desk for much less money, many fewer hours, 7 blocks away, where the angels were hanging out and singing happy songs, like Earth, Wind, & Fire songs that just make you feel all positive and cheery. I love Earth, Wind, & Fire.
I gave the guy at the cleaners a call and said I'd chosen the other job, and he said, "Okay, that works out just great, then." I thought, "Hm, I guess it's going to work out just fine, then. I don't want to be there, anyway." I called Jan at Crumb Brothers to tell her I'd decided to accept that job, and she said, "Oh, I'm so excited that you'll be working with us!! Can you start tomorrow at 10:00?"
We'll see how it turns out. I'll still be keeping my job at Angie's. She must be the "Dinna Sista." (Like, Crumb Brothers, Dinna Sista . . . Well, I just made it up. I think it's way creative and hilarious.)
Yay!
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Job to Get a Job
It would be really cool to find a job. I do have a job right now. I work part-time as a baker, about 3 to 4 hours a day, except Sunday. Sometimes I work longer, sometimes shorter. It would be great to find a "real job," especially since I do have a bachelor's degree, and also an associate's. Maybe I should have moved to Montana or something. At the bakery, the other baker I work with is 17. I could have had the job I have now, without ANY education. A little disappointing.
I do have two job interviews today, which is nice. Although I do hate interviews. At least SOME of the jobs I've applied for, have shown fruit in interviews. I just need more job OFFERS. And GOOD ones, too. I'm getting pretty desperate. The thought of moving back into my parents' basement has some sort of appeal to me, and it's getting stronger. I'm here to "make something of my life." When I was living there, I did work at a quilt shop -- and that was nice. I was treated really well. Problem was, I didn't bring home a very big paycheck. I have lots of fabric instead. And I didn't really feel like I was making the world all that much better. I wasn't sharing my skills, working with the poor and needy, saving up to buy a house . . . I was just selling fabric and spa chemicals. And I was replaced there by a 17-year-old. Good grief.
What would I like to do in life to feel "fulfilled"? Maybe work in a hospital and save lives. Though I do have a problem with blood and other bodily fluids, and also pain. And the high stress, too. Maybe working at a school, teaching kids to read and do math. Or building homes for people who don't have homes. I don't know.
But right now, my lofty goals are to pay my rent and student loans, and some shelves or dressers to put my clothes & books (living out of boxes is really horrible). I don't think I'm asking for too much.
I do have two job interviews today, which is nice. Although I do hate interviews. At least SOME of the jobs I've applied for, have shown fruit in interviews. I just need more job OFFERS. And GOOD ones, too. I'm getting pretty desperate. The thought of moving back into my parents' basement has some sort of appeal to me, and it's getting stronger. I'm here to "make something of my life." When I was living there, I did work at a quilt shop -- and that was nice. I was treated really well. Problem was, I didn't bring home a very big paycheck. I have lots of fabric instead. And I didn't really feel like I was making the world all that much better. I wasn't sharing my skills, working with the poor and needy, saving up to buy a house . . . I was just selling fabric and spa chemicals. And I was replaced there by a 17-year-old. Good grief.
What would I like to do in life to feel "fulfilled"? Maybe work in a hospital and save lives. Though I do have a problem with blood and other bodily fluids, and also pain. And the high stress, too. Maybe working at a school, teaching kids to read and do math. Or building homes for people who don't have homes. I don't know.
But right now, my lofty goals are to pay my rent and student loans, and some shelves or dressers to put my clothes & books (living out of boxes is really horrible). I don't think I'm asking for too much.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Bloggy
I used to blog. I don't much anymore. I think there are good things about blogging.
Blogging got to be really "it" a few years ago. I even made myself a blog on yahoo. Only my cousins really looked at it. And the guy I was dating. But he didn't read it that much, I don't think. I didn't blog that much, either.
It was interesting about blogging, though. Putting thoughts out there, and people could respond or leave it alone. That was nice.
I'm not that good at communicating. Blogging was kindof a cool outlet for me. People couldn't interrupt me, and if they didn't want to listen, they just looked away, rather than blatantly ignoring me. That was cool about blogging.
Typing is better to me than talking on the phone. I don't like talking on the phone. I like being with people in person, but it's also a little different on the blogging page. I can't imagine that I seem more ingenious or ignernt than I am in real life. I don't really pretend to be smarter or duller in blogland.
At least I'll enjoy this blog, though. It's bright and pink. Gorgeous.
Blogging got to be really "it" a few years ago. I even made myself a blog on yahoo. Only my cousins really looked at it. And the guy I was dating. But he didn't read it that much, I don't think. I didn't blog that much, either.
It was interesting about blogging, though. Putting thoughts out there, and people could respond or leave it alone. That was nice.
I'm not that good at communicating. Blogging was kindof a cool outlet for me. People couldn't interrupt me, and if they didn't want to listen, they just looked away, rather than blatantly ignoring me. That was cool about blogging.
Typing is better to me than talking on the phone. I don't like talking on the phone. I like being with people in person, but it's also a little different on the blogging page. I can't imagine that I seem more ingenious or ignernt than I am in real life. I don't really pretend to be smarter or duller in blogland.
At least I'll enjoy this blog, though. It's bright and pink. Gorgeous.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)