"Nobody wants to be here, and nobody wants to leave"

I love Dystopian novels.
Stories where citizens are living in a bleak landscape, struggling against a regime (or the lack of one). An existence where every moment is earned. Where nothing is taken for granted.
When I think of why I devour these books, I figure it's for the same reason other girls read romance novels. There is no overblown love in their life, so they create an imaginary romantic life around these books that they read, and that becomes their world. The sentiments expressed in those novels becomes part of what they are.
My life is so perfect that sometimes it's difficult to realize just how wonderful it is. I am safe. I am free. I can eat and do and be what I want when I want. I need a reminder, and that is why I read.
I enter Hell in writing, and through it I find joy.

Takin' Care of Business

The job interview: is there anything more awkward, more stressful, and more uncomfortable? And no, I am not just talking about the outfits you wear to them. Sitting there, answering questions about your strengths and weaknesses. Why you are leaving your previous job and what you hope to gain from this one. It's just painful.


Question: So what interested you in this position? Interviewer #1 leans forward expectantly, one eyebrow raised in premature disbelief.

Answer: Well, I hate my current job, so I wanted a new one. I was looking for something where I could sit around most of the day, with higher pay. This seemed to fit, so here I am!

What I Told Them: Well, I've been looking for a position that would assist me in my major. As an English Teaching major, I thought it would be perfect to be behind the scenes and learn more about how the technical details of the program work. Helping others prepare to graduate, finding scholarships, etc., will better prepare me when I go through those processes myself. Also, I am hoping to work more hours winter, and this fits perfectly with my schedule. All said while looking interviewer straight in the eye, adding charming little smiles at appropriate times, and using my hands not excessively, but just to highlight certain points. Oh look how passionate I am. You should hire me right away.

Question: I see. As an advisor, we would require you to interact with students. Is that something you are comfortable doing? Interviewer #2 blinks several times, squints eyes, and looks at a spot on the wall just over my shoulder. What is he doing?

Answer: Oh, I am really good at faking emotion. You can trust me when it comes to pretending I actually care about a problem, even if I don't.

What I Told Them: I consider myself a social person, and I think those that know me would agree. I believe that a job isn't fulfilling unless you are interacting with others, and I find that helping people is one of my strengths. Now the real big smile breaks out. My eyes sparkle, as if I am talking about something I am in total awe of. Man, my cheeks are beginning to hurt. Is it just me, or is this chair really low? Anyway.

Question: Multi-tasking is an enormous part of this particular job. Would you consider yourself able to complete several tasks in quick succession? Interviewer #3 looks down at the sheet she is holding, then stares at me. #1 looks encouraging, but #2 looks like he is slowly drowning. Um... what did they just say. #3 is glancing through some papers. Is that my resume she's holding? Is the font OK? Focus.

Answer: Well, if it gets too stressful, my head might explode. Or I could escape to a corner and assume the fetal position. But overall... I might be able to do more than one thing. I'll most likely end up neglecting one of the things.

What I Told Them: I can absolutely multitask. I think every student has to develop that ability. How would we get anything done otherwise? Crack an adorable half smile, pause and wait for laughter. I earn a couple smiles. #2 gives a panic filled expression. Moving on...

Question: We use specialized computer programs. Are you able to learn new programs, and if so, can you give us an example of a time, either in school or in a past job, where this has occurred?

Answer: Well, yeah, I can learn new programs. But if I don't use them regularly, I forget them. Like there was this time in sixth grade, where we made the switch from those old school Macintoshs to desktop computers. It was a little traumatizing to get used to having a mouse and clicking icons, but I caught on after a few months. I still miss those green screens sometimes. Oh, and the way the printer paper had those serrated edges you could make boondoggles with? Classic. Ah, school days. What was the question?

What I Told Them: I am a quick-learner, and generally find that it only takes one lesson for me to catch on to a concept. For instance, with my last job, I would sometimes cover the cashier. It only took a quick run through of the system before I was adept at it, and my supervisors acknowledged that and knew they could rely on me.

Question: Why did you leave your last job... at the Cannon Center?

Answer: Because I hated that job with every fiber of my being, and knew that if I stayed there any longer I would get sucked in forever and slowly lose my soul, along with my will to live, and become a mindless zombie, automatically wiping tables and filling napkin holders and syrup bottles with no intelligent thought.

What I Told Them: As I stated previously, I am hoping to take on more working hours next semester. Because I will be working more, I wanted to move on to a job that was more challenging, and once again, would help me with my educational goals.

Question: Well, that sounds good. We don't have anything else to ask. We'll be making a decision by Friday, so regardless of whether you've gotten the job or not, we'll notify you by then. Do you have any questions for us? All three of them look at me intently. With great expectations. Think! Think!

Answer: No.

What I Told Them: Um, I can't think of anything right now. You've been very thorough, which I really appreciate. Thank you so much for meeting with me! They all lean back, a little deflated. What do they expect! Employers always ask that question, but when they've already told me when they will make their choice, and if I know starting salary, is there anything left? No! So what should I say? I really have no idea, and leave with an enormous sense of failure.

Flash forward to Friday. I've spent the past few days eating ice cream and pizza, mourning the interview that went awry. I'm going to work at the Cannon Center forever. Within a year, I'll be one of those people whose only joy in life is bossing people around and lecturing her staff about the correct way to place silverware in the carts. I actually scolded someone for not refilling the trays immediately the other day! It's too late! I'm doomed!!!

And then the call came.

To that lady who saw me dancing in the hallway of the JKB, waving my arms over my head and shaking my hips like Shakira, I should apologize. But I'm not going to, because I can kiss food service goodbye! SO LONG SUCKERS.

A Tasty Trifecta

There are things in life that are worth any sacrifice. After eating a meal at my workplace, something I swore I would never, ever, EVER do, I realized that most of these things are dessert related. I would relinquish anything, including (and most often) my pride, for the Holy Trinity of Sweetness, all of which would immediately kill my lactose intolerant roommate.

Cheesecake

The Rundown
Smooth and creamy, with just the right amount of savory flavor to keep it interesting, cheesecake is a must for any meal. You can add fruits, caramels, chocolate, almost anything to the core base, adding a variety that keeps you coming and compliments any taste.The Lengths
I would eat at the Cannon Center to have this sassy, seductive dessert. If you've ever been there, this is a token of true love. But just one look at it's come-hither graham cracker crust and I'm sold.

Creme Brulee
The Rundown
Rich custard, crackling caramelization, and a chic-y chic serving dish bump this dessert to the max. The only thing that could possibly make this even better is the addition of fresh raspberries and blackberries for a burst of cool against the backdrop of silky richness.The Lengths
I would walk twenty blocks, pay twenty dollars, and savor it for twenty minutes just to get a glimpse of this classy cuisine. At some restaurants, ordering this can indulge the inner pyro as they torch the top at the table. Regardless of serving styles, creme brulee always gives me the opportunity to feel like Amelie and indulge my whimsical side for a while.

Cannoli
The Rundown
This sweet crunchy pastry filled with mascarpone cheese will transport you to other worlds, preferably Italian ones. Served on a chocolate drizzled plate and sprinkled with powdered sugar is the ultimate way to partake of this dangerous dish, perhaps with a dollop of homemade whipped cream with sliced strawberries on top just to one side of it. A piece of heaven, or rather, una parte di cielo!The Lengths
I would eat this despite being completely full of cannelone and lasagna. I would eat this even if it meant that fifteen minutes later I will be lying on the floor, clutching my stomach and groaning over the excess of cream based sauces and pasta in my system. Or, if I know beforehand of it's existence on the menu, I would refuse to finish my marsala chicken, opting instead to box the main meal and partake of my gangster heritage.
I would even leave the gun and take this. Any day.

Oh babe when I'm in love with you

I'm in love with this man:

Who is also this man:
This man:
And finally, this man:

So I realize I wrote about Weezer not too long ago, but the concert last night has pushed me headfirst into obsession once again. It was everything I needed. Even though I am paying for it today with all the unique pains that come only when you are dancing in an insane manner, it was totally worth it. This isn't meant to be bragging, just me saying Wow. I really do love Weezer. More specifically, Wow. I really do love Rivers Cuomo.

Highlights:
*"El Scorcho"
*White jumpsuits that were changed to red tracksuits.
*Rivers jumping on a trampoline onstage.
*"Say It Ain't So"
*Rivers asking us to say HECK YES if we were having a good time.
*Singing the intro to "Dope Nose"
*The verbal intro to"Troublemaker", where Rivers told a story about playing with his daughter at the Children's Museum the day before. Adorable without being cheesy. Also good: during the song when he went and sat on the speakers and kicked his legs. The speakers totally seemed like a giant chair, and he looked like a little rebel stuck in time-out.
*The floor roll Rivers did during a guitar solo. And basically everything he did.
*Hearing "The Greatest Man That Ever Lived" live. It was pure gangsta, pure beauty, pure joy. Even though the vocal counterpoint was a little shaky, it still had me from the first siren. Plus, Rivers looks great in a cowboy hat. And even greater after he got rid of it.
*The Hootenanny that was the first encore. Picture 30-ish local kids with different instruments onstage jamming with the Weezer, and being interviewed by one awesome frontman. Oh yeah.
*Rivers kicking over the record player that was playing "Heart Songs" on the second encore.
*The hoarse voice while Rivers was saying goodbye and introducing "Buddy Holly", the final song. It proved that they were really giving their all, rocking it out of the park for some podunk Utahns. And man did we love it.
*Seeing Weezer live. One band down, ten...maybe fifteen... OK, lots more to go. But Weezer is checked off and gave a live performance that had me screaming like a teenage Beatles fan circa 1964. =w=

Lost & Found: In Memoriam

Last winter I went to this totally amazing Billy Collins lecture and came out from it with a burning desire to write poetry. I scribbled a couple poems on loose pieces of paper and random notebooks, taking inspiration from my daily surroundings and trying to see life as I thought Collins did. It didn't last long, maybe a week or so. I got lazy and soon moved on.

A few months later, I found myself in a creative writing class that completely fostered my once imaginative soul. When we came to the poetry section of the course, I remembered one of the poems I wrote during the Week of Poetry, and decided to submit that for my piece. The night before the assignment was due, I looked for the paper I'd written it on, only to find it had disappeared. I threw together a new version on the same theme, but was mostly disappointed with it.

Recently, I found the original poem! It wasn't as earth-shatteringly poignant as I thought it was, but that's hindsight. Anyway, here's both versions, in chronological order. Any suggestions?

The silence serves as a haven.
I take out my book and read,
until the silence, and the luxury
of an entire couch to myself
steal my thoughts away.
I start from feigning death
to a room surrounded by it.
I realize this quiet, morbid room,
is full of students studying,
glued to books, computers,
iPods, and sweet surrender of sleep,
oblivious to the tomb they sit in.
Display cases full of gilded names and plastic
roses on black velveteen,
a dark silhouette against a white orb,
red white and blue.
I cannot use this place so casually.
Haunted by the mothers, the wives, the siblings,
I walk into the warmth outside.
Glad to have my homework finished.


MEMORIAL

An enveloping quiet
highlights the silent cases
full of memory and sorrow.

Rows of enameled names gleam
golden against the burnished backdrop
held in oaken arms.

An eternal rose rests resplendent
on dark velveteen fields, behind
the garish glass.

Above, a circlet of white, holding
silhouettes of towers and figures
within the square of black.

This hall of death is shrinking,
crushing with the weight of lives
sacrificed for the "greater good".

I leave the tomb-like room, and step
into the warmth of outside day,
glad to have finished my homework.

Greet the brand new day

I just had an experience I really want to write about, and when I realized it's been way, WAY over a month since I've written anything on here, I thought what else could I do? So here I sit. Writing once again.

Yesterday, I went through surgery for the first time ever. It was just a minor procedure (or whatever you call it), but I have never been so terrified in my life. The morning before going into the doctor's office, I decided that you know what? Those medieval folks were right all along. Medical treatment really IS an abomination. I mean, going in and messing with someones insides just isn't right. Leonardo da Vinci deserved to be persecuted for all those cadavers he experimented on. Who really needs to know more about the human body? I don't. All this technology is just wrong, and goes against everything I believe in. Or at least that's what I told my mom. She still made me go.

Once we were there, the fear took over. The whole idea of surgery, the thought of "going under the knife" really shook me up. I don't like to be in situations I can't understand... no, understand isn't the right word... situations I can't control. That makes it sound like I'm a micromanaging freak, but that's not it. I'm just pretty independent, and used to being able to rely on myself and handle things. And the thought of being completely unconscious with my fate in the hands of others scared me. Even though I knew everything was going to be fine, even though I knew that my family was behind me, even though I knew I had the care I needed, I was still full of fear. Was it irrational? Maybe a little. But it was there, and I couldn't shake it. And so it was there, right after the nurse had left and I changed into the gown and the slippers and that baggy blue hairnet, that I lost it. Not in a big showy way, but I put my head in my hands and let a series of sobs escape. I felt vulnerable, and small, and alone. The tears were gone by the time the nurse came back, but the things that prompted them were still there.

Then they put the IV in and gave me a run down of things to expect when I woke up. They'd ask me to rate my pain, and if I felt any nausea. I just nodded and tried to smile. The doctor came in, and he must have seen the pure terror in my eyes, because he held my hand and did the whole 'it's going to be fine' bit. Next came the big event. They asked me to take my glasses off (a moment of panic, because not only was I going into this thing, but I was going into it blind) and started wheeling me to what I guess was the operating room. We stopped on the way so the anesthesiologist could squirt something into my IV tube, and I'm pretty sure I was out in less than a minute. Thirty seconds, tops.

The next thing I knew, I felt that warm comforting feeling when your are waking up from a particularly excellent nap. The feeling where you know you are going to get up soon, but sleep just felt so good, so you want to cling to that darkness and not open your eyes yet. The song "Dear Prudence" kept going through my mind, which was a little weird because I hadn't listened to the White Album for a while, but it's a great song and I was enjoying it. Looking back, I guess it was appropriate, with the whole "open up your eyes" lyric. Eventually, I did open my eyes, and after a moment of disorientation I realized where I was. An older blond nurse was standing over me, asking me the questions I had been prepped for in an exasperated tone and shoving a cup of water with a straw towards my face. At least I think it was a blond nurse with a cup of water. All I saw was a blob with a smaller whitish blob. I remember asking for my glasses, and she just said they were with my mom and was there any nausea? I evaluated myself for a moment and realized no, there was no nausea. Pain? Not really any of that either. And then it hit me. It was over! Maybe. I asked the nurse just to be sure. Yep, I was done. Let me repeat that. I WAS DONE! THE NIGHTMARE WAS OVER! AND I DIDN'T HURT! YES! I'm pretty sure the grin on my face didn't leave for quite a while.

The best thing about coming out of the anesthesia was how with it I thought I was. I expected to come out of it all trippy and loopy, but in my mind I felt completely normal, and told my nurse this fact. Except when I told her, I used words like cohesive, coherant, and maybe, but not positively, that I was performing at an optimum level of comprehension. Yeah. I think I was more druggy than I thought. Anyway, I rested in bed for a while and drank water, finally (finally!) got my glasses, and then was wheeled out to our car and went home. All in all, the ordeal wasn't as bad as I thought, and I went home in high spirits. Now I'm just resting, watching tons of movies, and reading loads of books. It's total down time. I love it.

If I were to sum up in one word what going through this taught me, I guess it would be faith. I learned that sometimes, you can't do everything, and that's when the trust comes in. I had to trust in my doctors to do what they were trained to perform in the best way they could. I had to trust that my family would be there after to take care of me. That ability to take a leap of faith (kind of like the one in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade), not knowing where you'll end up or what will happen, but believing that things will be alright, is something I don't really have down yet, but I'm working on it. And that's what the purpose is. I mean, the phrase is "exercising faith". You won't wake up one day and have that part of life understood perfectly, but the more you work at it and exercise that faith, the easier and more natural it will become.

So I will try and have more faith and trust in the future. As for right now, I think I'll cuddle up in a blanket, have some soup, and stick in another movie.

Whoever came up with the phrase "Good Morning" should be shot

So today I posted earlier, but I took it down because it was all serious and angsty and included some of my real-life, actual FEELINGS about awkward issues, and who wants to read about that? Those who come to this Wonder of a blog (if there really are any of you) are here for my wry observations about things that don't matter, and that's the way I like it.


This morning I was woken up by my current roommate's cell-phone, and then her loud conversation with her boyfriend, and then her alarm clock going off. There was no chance of drifting off to sleep again after that. As consciousness slowly flooded my brain and my eyes squinted open, I realized I couldn't see OR breathe. Because sometime during the night, I had shoved my head completely under the pillow, where I nestled up to the mattress, making a lake of saliva that left the right side of my face drenched. I sat there, in the stifled darkness, slowly roasting as the layers of cottony pillow entrenched my head, and listened to my roommate move around the room getting ready for the day. Only one thought resonated through my skull: DON'T MOVE. If I moved, my roommate would say good morning. And then I'd have to acknowledge her presence and be nice and say good morning back to her, when before noon, all I want to do is eat breakfast and read and not see another person. If you get in my way in the morning, I will most likely either a) kill you with the evil death rays emanating from my glare, or b) take off your head in one bite, chew it up, and then spit it on you.

So rather than make contact with another human being, I sat very still under my layers of blankets and pillows, trying to make my breathing as regular as possible even though I was being smothered by my monstrous pillow. As soon as I heard her leave, clicking the bedroom door shut, I emerged from my pile of bedding and gasped ... I mean gasped ... for air, kicking off my extra blanket and throwing the offensive pillow across the room and into the laundry basket.

To top it all off, when I was making breakfast a couple hours later, I decided it was a good idea to test the stove burner with my fingers. Guess what? It wasn't.