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From an email sent by the president of the company I'd really like to work for.


"We will be in touch with you by the end of the week regarding the next steps."


I really want that to be a 'basically you're hired.' :

I've never been so excited for a job.

Writer's Block: Tricky Questions

What is your first reaction when someone says "I need to talk to you"?
I generally try to guess what the worst thing they could say is, followed by what they're most likely to say. I like to think I'm pretty good at guessing what some people want right away. It's much harder on the internet.

Jan. 3rd, 2009

Today I look around my house and see the evidence of two scatterbrains living together. There are five different projects half done that I can find. Finishing any one of them would take only an hour. I'm trying not to be too hard because for two weeks we've been focusing on my grandmother's passing so everything else fades. As long as the minimum of kitchen appliances are working, we don't need much else. As long as the internet's working, the buried coffee table and end tables don't matter.

Her memorial service was last Saturday. All of my cousins were in town and Rob flew in from Japan Friday afternoon. Friday night everyone in the house was up until 4am. Half of us were drunk, the other half wondering if maybe 80 for that hotel would have been worth it.

I was still drunk when I woke up the next morning. Everyone's smiling and laughing and discussing how the night unfolded. You almost wouldn't think we were all together for a service. I wanted to be strong. I didn't want to be that crazy lady wailing throughout the event. When I walked into the same church I went to all my life in Omaha, and saw all the people who came on a frigid December morning to pay respect, I realized bottling up and detaching my emotions wouldn't be so easy.

The service itself was really nice. My brother and two older cousins all gave speeches. The other two had been up all night working on theirs. Rob got up there with no paper at all, and winged a five minute speech. It was actually very touching because normally you can't shake him up at all. He's one of those guys who can let everything roll off his shoulders and still look good. Watching him truly struggle to say anything was one of the more touching parts.

My favorite reverend, Rv. Reynolds,  gave a small sermon. He's exactly the sort of guy who has those crazy late night religious shows on public access. In fact, he was that guy for a long time. When you imagine that crazy looking black guy who starts singing instead of talking, getting the entire choir and audience riled up, that's what Rv. Reynolds does. And I had no idea where he was going until he got to the end. The point of the story was that she lived her life knowing she'd be having dinner with Jesus when she died. Boiling it to one sentence makes it sound almost silly but it was during his talk that I realized how true it was.

For a long time, I've been discouraged with how often the people claiming to be the most religious, especially those who go for the Jesus thing, they don't do a damn thing the bible says. And when I think of anyone I know having lived their life anything like the bible requests, my gram stands alone.

She was forever seeing the good in things and the good in people. She was generous even when she had nothing. I can't remember a day where she wasn't doing something for someone else, be it grocery shopping or cutting coupons or running errands. She didn't live like she had nothing, even though she was living on next to nothing. Nothing brought her sprits down. She was always in a good mood, even when pricking her finger and injecting herself with insulin. She always smiled, always thankful to be alive.

These are things about her I don't want to forget. Things I want to have in my life. There's work to be done.
My grandmother died early sunday morning. my plans to spend christmas with ant are now tempered with the reality that nobody ever passes away at a convenient time. The service will be the 26th so I have to be on a plane on the 25th. She was sick for a long time. She hasnt been the gram I rememember so fondly in years. It still hurts. combined with my abdominal pains that won't leave, I'm somewhat of a mess. I have to keep moving. I always hope tomorrow will be better. Suddenly all my complaints about the way my life is seem pointless.

I hope I spend most of my time back home remembering how fun my gram was not how sad we are all now. She would have wanted that, Im sure.

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So now I'm employed at three different places. Two of them are 'seasonal' with the opportunity to stay on depending on my performance among other variables. Yesterday I had to go find some shoes as the ones I were wearing were 'out of uniform'. We're really broke right now so I'm trying my best not to buy needlessly. Technically, I had shoes that were acceptable but then it's that whole 'black outfit require black shoes' thing. Brown would've looked bizarre to say the least. I work today, tomorrow, Friday and then sometime next week, at Sears. Saturday and Sunday I drive for Quizno's. And Tuesday will be my training at Macy's. I'm slightly concerned that if I'm working every day, I'm going to get a bit crazy. I hope I don't. I just have to speak up during the scheduling and say 'no that won't work for me.' I hate to do that when everyone else apparently has no life and will work any miserable hours offered.

And it's raining. Blech.

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Writer's Block: Eat, Drink, Be Merry

Thanksgiving is almost here in the U.S., heralding the start of the holiday season and the first of many meals where you might be confronted with a traditional dish that you happen to find disgusting. What holiday food do you hate to see on the table?
Anything involving the turkey gizzards, pretty much. And the green bean casserole makes me nervous because it varies in tastiness depending on who made it. I enjoy every other thanksgiving staple, especially cranberry sauce and stuffing and potatoes of all sorts.

Home sweet home, Gua.. I mean, Groton

Moving a lot is part of the stereotypical military life. How often depends on the service; for the Navy it's every two to three years. When I talk about trying to get comfortable in another new place, I feel like people don't quite understand why. I have moved three times in two years. I have lived on two different islands and have taken more miserable flights than you could imagine. And now I'm in this house in Groton, Connecticut. It's big and new and my cats are here and Anthony's here but I'm always antsy and irritable. I can't believe the holiday season is here already. So begins the phone calls from both of our families, wondering when we plan on flying out. Even if we could afford it, we wouldn't go. We've been traveling so much already. We spent way too long in Denver last month. At least now he sees from my point of view. I won't even go into that right now.

I guess this time is a bit more frustrating because we're cash strapped. Not only are we busy trying to furnish a new house and everything, but we're taking a sizable pay cut. Partly it's my fault for not doing my research. In Guam and Hawaii, there is a family services facility that will give you anything that you would need for your kitchen from toasters to plates and flatware and various cookware. The Groton facility doesn't do this. Secondly, on the islands, they'll give you loaner furniture for a few months. Not here. So all the money we weren't planning on spending for these sorts of things is getting spent. And it sucks.

Sitting on air mattresses makes my hip joints hurt. This is the point where I get up and mill around the house until Ant brings the car home.

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Yesterday morning, both Ant and I awoke to our hotel room's neighbors having sex at 6am. Not just any sex. Loud, raunchy, wall rocking sex. For a full 40 minutes. The best part was her odd whines, which made me wonder if I sounded like that through a couple layers of drywall. She also (fake) came. I didn't buy it but I think her partner did because he stopped soon thereafter with a final loud bang into the wall.

I can't decide if this was the high or low point of a 3 night stay at a crappy base hotel with possibly the worst customer service I've ever had. Or am I just spoiled to employees who are happy to see people giving money to their business, I don't know.

We are now trying to get settled in a house. It's big and new and blue. I love it.

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Writer's Block: Greenery

Today in 1971, Greenpeace was founded. How are you helping to keep your section of Earth green these days?

Reading out loud.

Usually reading out loud calls to my mind a young classroom and a large illustrated book. Or parents reading to children snuggled in to bed. But now I think of Anthony and me sitting in traffic, taking turns reading to each other. He does all the voices except the main character. We both giggle and ponder and ask questions just like curious children.

On Big Ben (bassist) 's recommendation, I read Interworld while Anthony was underway. It's a young adult novel but a joy to read nonetheless. So I in turn told Anthony to check it out, maybe he'd like it too.

He was laughing within the first pages so I asked him to read aloud to me what got him going.

The only thing about Anthony and books is when he likes a book, he really really likes it. He wants to read it while I'm driving, read it instead of hanging out with company, read it instead of do anything else during his free time. For whatever reason, this irks me. I normally read when in bed and rarely do so at other times.

So when he wanted to read while I drove, I said no and offered a truce. "How about I read it to you, while you drive? You know, like an audio book?"

"Ok!"

And so it went.

It fills gaps of time where we get caught waiting. The place we're going to won't open for twenty minutes? That's cool, he can more actively do the other voices. He can do a voice in a few different styles to see which one fits "a voice like sucking mud" best. What does a sulking, mud sucking voice sound like, anyway?

Time flies.

I'm happy, he's happy, our car is filled with giggles and words. I don't know if this would work so well with other books. I tried to read parts of I Am Legend to him but either the writing wasn't very good or he wasn't so interested. It didn't do as much for either of us. I think it was the bad writing. I haven't been so disappointed in a book in a long time. But that's a whole nother story.


I'm wondering if anyone else enjoys reading outloud these days. Try it with friends! Let me know the results.