20 May 2009

Wordless Wednesday: Sucking my will to live

Day 341: Sucking my will to live
Day 341/365

Listening to: Gogol Bordello - Supertheory of Supereverything

15 May 2009

Unemployment is Overrated

Way back in freaking January, I wrote about my inability to find a job. At that moment, I didn't expect that on May 15 I wouldn't be any closer to finding work.

And the whole job search thing has put a huge damper on every creative bone in my body. I rarely write; I rarely blog; and my self-portraits, ungh, I haven't dressed up or done anything creative since like, October. I have zero motivation to exercise. I am waxing and waning between not being able to sleep for days at a time, to sleeping for days at a time.

Seriously - seven months since I started looking for work and I'm still searching for a job. Talk about feeling like an unemployable loser. C'mon guys, I'm a hard worker, organized and dedicated... heck, read what my last manager had to say about me:

I have known Jeannette since 2002, when I started reporting to her boss. She worked as an Administrative Assistant and during that time, she volunteered to assist me on several occasions. Each time when I asked Jeannette to complete a project she always blew me away with the end result! Not only did she handle typical administrative tasks with ease, she was known for her expertise in Microsoft software programs and this resulted in her peers calling her from all over the company asking for assistance.

Eventually, Jeannette came to work for me as an Account Manager and in this role, she was responsible for calling on federal agencies. Jeannette has an engaging personality and people are drawn to her.

Jeannette is organized, possesses high quality standards and a sincere interest in her work. Jeannette has excellent communication skills and has the determination and initiative to get the job done. I would highly recommend Jeannette for employment within your organization, as she is a valuable asset.

--Liz Pruitt, Director, Marketing, WellPoint

I am at my wit's end. I am so tired of searching for work, being met with bunk job offers, and SALES job offers - who the heck are people selling to anyway? I'm no sales woman... more of a marketing and communications specialist who has a knack for problem solving and relationship building.

(here I am, over here guys....)

Advice? Anyone, anyone?

Now that I've done my fair share of complaining, let me take a moment to give thanks.

I am thankful that my family has the ability to and is willing to support me. Thanks mom and dad for paying my freaking bills while I unsuccessfully search and search and search for work. (They kept a ledger and I cashed out part of my retirement and paid back every penny.) I have a couple of relatives who slip me money from time-to-time, but their spouse is unaware of this, so, um, yeah, thanks - you know who.

And even though moving back in with my parents feels like a huge stab to my ego and a giant leap backwards (followed by a tumble down a steep, rocky hill and into a sewer drain) - I am grateful that I've had this time to get to know my mom better, grow closer, and experience her as a roommate.

I try to keep in mind something my dad said - that he's been through this same thing, except he had a wife and two young children to worry about. Yikes.

I'm also thankful that Jaelithe, Lisa, Jill, Kim and Kymberlie have been able to provide me with sound advice and encouraging words, even though deep-down they know I'm a hopeless, unemployable mess.

Advice? Anyone, anyone?

Listening to: Gogol Bordello - Mishto

PS - I am also thankful that I still have a credit card, which allows me to spend frivolously and experience great things, such as the upcoming Gogol Bordello and Man Man show. (Super-excited!!!)

Double PS - Happy Birthday Gramma!!! (72!)

Day 169: My Gramma Sue

03 May 2009

Cinco De Mayo on Cherokee Street

This year Cinco De Mayo is celebrated a few days early and, as such, can be lovingly referred to as Dos De Mayo, but whatever because everyone was really on Cherokee Street to celebrate the birth of yours truly -- who turned 31 today.

For the last two weeks I've been doing some pre-birthday celebrating, watching a variety of awesome performances: NIL8, Jennifer Hudson (and Robin Thicke, who I think had two orgasms during his performance, but that's cool, just sayin'), the Toadies, and Flight of the Conchords. All were fantastic, but Cinco De Mayo was fun in a totally different way.

Cinco De Mayo

Because I didn't think to bring any sort of apparatus to keep track of what I was witnessing, I took record via text message. Gotta love technology... especially since I have one of the cheapest, crappiest phones offered by the ridiculously expensive AT&T (no linky-love; horrible customer service and over-priced go-phone packages, AT&T can SUCK IT. Oh wait, they already do).

My immediate observation, after visiting every dang booth, was that none of them had chorizo. What. The. Hell(O-Kitty)??? Seriously, they had an American Booth with corn dogs, funnel cakes, and other foods that totally did not belong at the event, plus there was a dude walking around selling cotton candy for one dollar. And no freaking chorizo! Which, was one of the main reasons I came to the celebration.

Cotton Candy Guy

I visited with the ever so TwIsTeD Courtney and chatted with the lovely Diane while her husband was goofing around with the kids (or he was doing something educational with them, I wasn't really paying attention; but he did capture some cool breakdancing that I totally missed). I hoped these ladies had some insight into the depressing chorizo-drought of Cherokee Street. Neither of them seemed to care as much as I did.

So I went from booth to booth and complained, "No chorizo??? I'll pick some up at the market and just cook it myself, but dude, they are selling freaking CORN DOGS!" Every time I said this, I was met with the same response; they would roll their eyes, point and say, "Si, American Booth."

Si, American Booth

I asked a variety of people where I could go for some chorizo and was referred to one of the restaurants which had inflated prices for the event, but whatever, the food was damn good. I don't care if they charged me $3.50 for a taco with only two toppings, chorizo and guacamole, because those were the two reasons I came. I will definitely revisit Taqueria el Bronco.

Taqueria el Bronco

What appeared at first glance to be a totally lame attraction, ended up being incredibly entertaining. I mean, a fake bull with a big "US Army" emblem painted on the side, and they're asking people to put their name on a list? How cool is this thing gonna be?

Really, it's run by a guy who looks like he might be in the Army - except he's wearing a cowboy hat and cowboy boots, a tourist shirt from Jackson Hole, WY and tight jeans - jeans that scream "pinch my ass, you know I want you to."

Bull Ride, before it got fun

Sorry, ladies and gentlemen-who-are-into-that-sort-of-thing, I did not get a photo of the dude's ass. It didn't seem important until on my way out when I ran into a couple girls I used to work with and they were commenting, repeatedly, about the dude's ass and how they just wanted to touch it. I wasn't about to go back to get an ass photo.

So I'm sitting on the curb watching a crowd slowly gather around the bull. Like the entire street, there was a good mix of people - young and old, some with families, others with friends - though admittedly, I would've liked to see a few more weirdo folk. It turns out, they were all in the parade, but I did eventually bump into a few.

Bull Rider

I'm watching the bull.

Kids are getting on, the bull-operator was totally taking it easy on them, giving them tips and letting their ride be fun and not get out of hand. After watching a variety of people ride, I start noticing that all the people yelling. It didn't matter who was riding that thing, the bull-operator is yelling pointers and tips; a group of Mexican guys were yelling all sorts of stuff in Spanish; and then this black guy starts yelling - to some kid (who he obviously knew) - HOLD ON TO THAT MOTHERFUCKER, CUZ!!! And he's just screaming it and screaming it. Over and over. Emphasizing every word a little differently each time, but making sure they all get equal attention.

And for the most part, nobody cared... unless they had young children who primarily spoke English. Those folks started scooping up their kids, stepping back, moving to the other side, anything to get away from that dude. But it was impossible to get away from it because his voice was carrying over the music, the crowd, everything.

It was awesome.

And then for just a short moment, everyone seemed to stop and slowly turn their heads toward this drunk biker guy groping his woman's booty. And by groping, I mean that in the politest sense of the word, the kind of groping you may see at the alter.

And the loud dude stopped screaming "MOTHERFUCKER" - he paused - his jaw dropped open, he pointed, then let out the best laugh I have ever heard. All his friends laughed, too, and the biker dude let go of his woman, they laughed and sat down, and the crowd began to disperse.

Now it's just families. I watch a few kids go around on the bull and just when I think the ride has lost its luster, a mom gets on. I've watched more than a dozen dudes ride it, at least half a dozen children, but this is the first mom.

She gets on, the bull operator is giving her some instructions, a few guys stop to watch... the ride starts - and the operator turns the bull toward the guys and does this maneuver where it just bounces her around. And her boobs are bouncing like crazy. These dudes are loving it, the operator is laughing his ass off, the woman is embarassed, but what the hell is she gonna do? Let go? She didn't have to wonder for too long because she bounced around for about 90 seconds and then was flipped off that thing.

The guy tricked a couple other moms and well, nothing else seemed relevant after this. I had my food, I had my entertainment, I had seen many chics with facial hair, what more can a girl ask for?

The hippie goes down!

But I wanted to sit on the curb and do a little people watching. So I did. And I saw:

--Two mailmen delivering mail. Unexpected, cool, but not too surprising and not too eventful, but still noteworthy because you don't often see men delivering mail in the heart of the Cinco De Mayo activities.

--A variety of kids wearing a Mexican wrestler's mask, think Nacho Libre. I couldn't differ between the Technicos and Rudos (good guys and bad guys), but it was fun to see the kids dressed up.

Wrestler Number One

--Oh, there was one woman who was scared of swine flu, or germs, or whatever, but she was wearing a mask and rubber gloves.

Swine flu?

--At one point, a girl who seemed sorta, well, retarded, asked me if I had seen her mom. Before the conversation went any further the girl's mom yelled for her. It was at this moment when I thought, "I won't even be able to tell when things get out of control."

--And then I suddenly realized that, although I was sitting on a curb completely alone with fifteen feet of space to my left and easily ten feet to my right, a woman sat down right next to me to breast feed her son. Now, I am totally okay with breastfeeding in public. I think it's inappropriate for anyone to be offended by breastfeeding, (c'mon people, get real, there's so much sex and nudity on 'regular TV' that it's unfathomable that someone would get bent out of shape over a woman breastfeeding). I was just taken aback because she sat so close to me that I could've elbowed her son in the head whilst he ate. (And I didn't see a nipple, or skin, or anything that could possibly be offensive.)

And then her friend sat down on the other side and started feeding her baby, too. I thought, "Cool. These chics seem nice." So I asked, "Where are you ladies from?" I sat there BSing with them until I was ready to go. They were super-cool, friendly and fun. I just did not expect the first lady to sit down right next to me.

Day 325: Cinco De Mayo

By mid-afternoon the street had transformed into some sort of weird parallel universe that might be perpendicular to the parallel universe everyone thinks of first.

Then suddenly everyone seemed drunk.
It was time for me to go.

I walked to my car, which, seemed to be parked in the most dangerous area I could possibly choose... hence all the boarded up windows, obviously-burned-out two and four family flats, and it explained the reason I had such an easy time finding a parking spot.

So I must give thanks to the small group of homeless guys who seemed to be on some sort of drug concoction that I don't even want to imagine, thanks for not robbing me or causing bodily harm when the five of you approached me as I was on the steps of a burned-out building trying to get a good photo.

Beautiful, burned out building

Listening to: Gorillaz - Fire Coming Out of the Monkey's Head


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