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Well . . .I haven’t written in a while. Hopefully I will start writing more and more at work . . .since I have so much down time. I have three jobs now . . .not that I want to really talk about them. I guess I will just go back to talking about my life in general.

Speaking of my life in general . . .did you catch the title of this post. No I am not going to talk about Beatles people vs. Elvis people, strong people vs. weak people or any other ways that others like to stereotype all people into two separate categories. Well, maybe. I would like to talk about Type A people vs. well, not Type A people.

I am not a Type A person. I have never really been a Type A person. I am a creative person. I like messes. I like chaos. While I hate stress and stressors and drama, I cannot stand order and organization to the point of dependency. “Everything has a place and place for everything . . .” Such a sing-song adage.

Type A people thrive on order, organization and all that entails. It seems so boring to me. Where is the creativity? What happens when you introduce a new element into that kind of atmosphere? How do you determine a place for that?? Where is the flexibility??

As I have probably mentioned in the past, I live with Samantha and Aiden . . .two of the biggest Type A personalities I have ever met. Being as I am the minority of the house, I am subject to random bitching-outs, because I am messy.

There is a reason for my messiness. I thrive on messiness. I need a mess . . .in fact I need many messes. I have a mess at my office, a mess in my car, a mess in my living environment . . .and I am ok with that. Samantha and Aiden cannot comprehend that I have and need a mess.

I need a mess . . .it gives me something to focus on when I am stressed or upset. Having a mess means that I am happy, content. If my car is clean, my office is clean, my living environment is clean . . .there is something seriously wrong.

I’m not filthy or dirty. I think a lot of people who need a mess are classified as lazy or a slob. So I can live with a mess and can’t live when anything is organized . . .does that make me a bad person? I don’t think so.

Tonight, I went out with some friends and had some drinks. When I called Samantha and Aiden for a ride home they didn’t want to leave the couch. I drove home, when I probably shouldn’t have and got home and was feeling pretty good about life in general after having a good time with some friends. After sitting on the couch (as mentioned above) I ended up getting into an argument with Aiden (Samantha supported his argument) about the mess on the stairs.

I have a mess on the stairs. I haven’t been upset enough to clean it up. I haven’t been upset enough for 3 months to clean it up. Nor do I have the space. Since Aiden moved-in in Feb. I have taken three loads to my parents barn for storage with at least another load to go. I have given away 6 bags of clothing (Wal-mart sized bags and bigger) with three more to go. When I initially moved in with Samantha two years ago, I condense my stuff by half (having only condense that stuff by half the year before). While Samantha and I had a roommate before Aiden, I didn’t have to give up that much stuff. However, I didn’t have Pye at that time, who, as it turns out, requires quite a bit of stuff. Since February, I have gotten rid of th 25% of what I had left. And I am out of space. The stuff on the stairs . . .waiting for a home (and even when it gets there, I will probably lose it. I can’t find stuff when it is organized!)

Tonight after having an argument with Aiden (and pissed with no support from Samantha, other than there will always be a mess on the stairs) I cleaned up my 5 ft closet (I had a walk-in at the last place I lived) and reorganized it again (after two months, I am a sick individual) and tried to find more places for everything. See, I only clean when I am upset.

I realized while I was cleaning somethings out. I got rid of a few things I don’t use or need. Thats fine. I am tired of living with Type A people who criticize how I do anything (including clean, which sometimes is better than they do it!). And if I want to keep my relationships with Samantha and Aiden, I need to move out. I need space, always have. And while I don’t have the money right now to do this, it’s probably best for everyone involved.

New lesson learned. . .when you are happy, tipsy, and feeling good about life in general . . .go to your room. Its less costly!


Resumes sent out this week: 0

interviews scheduled this week: 0

Thing I am most grateful for today: A clean, safe environment to live in

Why haven’t I posted in like over a week? Two reasons. And this post will address both of them.

1. It’s primarily accountability. I am supposed to be writing this post primarily to address my job search. And well, I have definitely been falling down on that front. I feel as if I am letting you (my 6-ish readers, but on a good day up to 15-ish readers down.) While I have started blogs in the past and never published more than a handful of posts before abandoning them. And this blog has been so cathartic. I need to publish more . . .and job search more. And fill you in my no-money exploits.

2. For the past week I have been spending an incredible amount of time with friend David. On Friday I went with him and a few friends to Eve Yom Kippur services ( primarily to learn more about why as a Christian should I support Israel and Jews in general). Also I have been spending time with him at his partner’s home. David will be moving in with his partner at the beginning of October. However, until then, he is on a cleaning rampage, and I happen to be his first mate on this voyage.

David believes that everything has a place and there is a place for everything. He is a def type A personality, and while he can handle small bits of clutter, he can’t handle full-on mess. And I am a professional at making messes and cleaning messes. So, I have been helping David clean this house, one room at a time. And trying to improve the smell in the house (it’s a mix of dog, dog pee and smoke . . .YUCK!)

The first two rooms (his and his partner’s bedroom and the living room) went by fast. Tonight was the kitchen. And we didn’t even get half way done with this one. And by far this is the worst room in the house!

Rat poop abounds. The smell of moth balls and grease weigh heavy in the air. I am throughly disgusted. And whats worse. David’s partner and his roommate have lived like this for at least a year! I cannot imagine living like this for any amount of time.

While I realize that there are people who live in conditions worse than this, it makes me truly grateful for my living environment and the fact that I never had to live in an environment like this. So as I go to bed in my clean sheets, I know when I wake up in the morning I have not had to share my bran flakes with another creature in the middle of the night. I know that while I maybe broke, I am better off than most people in my situations. And tonight I feel truly grateful.

Sometimes in our lives we have the experience of taking about the car keys from an elderly relative. Sure, we might have their physician do it for us, and sometimes we have to physically cart away the car, we are still in essence taking away the keys. If we are lucky, the relative will realize they are no longer able to handle the responsiblity of managing a motor vehicle and hand over the keys willingly. In most cases, this doesn’t happen, but its nice to think it does.

Last night I think I know the feeling of having the keys taken away. I guess I should say of having to hand the keys over. Of course, no one took the keys away from me. C’mon now, I’m 28 and I have one of the best driving records of some of my friends. But last night I made a decision that affects my ability to be young, I’m afraid.

Last night, I went out with a few friends to celebrate my graduation. This was the more adult version of my graduation festivities. We went out to dinner at a slightly smoky bar & grill, then went on to another slightly more smoky bar for another couple of hours. By about 11:30, my sinuses had more than they could take, and were achy all over. My friends decided they would continue on with the partying and head to our favorite bar, which is more smoky than a chimney at Christmas at a house in New England.

Ok, I wanted to come home after the 2nd location change and continue with the festivities here, where I could get some meds and the smoky smell off my body. But, they wanted to continue to bar hop. When I said that I would rather not continue to the bar, they told me to wait and see how bad it was.

It was BAD! Even on the outdoor porch it was BAD! Combining my already growing headache with more cigarette smoke and top it off with loud dance music . . .this equals a recipe for disaster. After 10 mins in the bar I was headed out of the door and to wait 10 mins for my friends to discover I was gone. Finally, Samantha emerged and took me home!

When I came home I took a shower and net-pot-ted my head. After several hours of headache (and nausea) I took some allergy medication. It helped to no avail. I didn’t get sleep until after 4:30 am, only to be up at 9:00 am to get ready to go shopping with my mother.

As I lay here in bed and write this post, I still have a monumental headache. Even after several rounds of drugs and neti-pot, I am in agony. I figured by the time I was 30 I would have to give up going to the clubs and bars and be a classy drinker. But at 28 I am giving up going to the clubs and smokey bars. Voluntarily handing over the keys . . .to the bar, not the car.

I’m for hire! No like a prostitute (GROSS and ILLEGAL)! Aiden and Samantha are also for hire! We are searching for the all important Grown-Up job!

Ah yes, the grown-up job. It seems as if it is something fictional like fairies, vampires, wizards and werewolves. Maybe someone can write a story that is epic and Tolkien-esque, or an edge-of-your-seat thriller like any of the Twilight books (or so they are supposed to be . . .I have never read them. Or Tolkien for that matter. Its like metaphor . . .just sayin’.)

Maybe I should write a book or series of book about this fictional “grown-up” job. What would I call it . . Aiden, Samantha and I and the Job Search with later titles including ,Samantha: 4 Out-of-Town Interviews and a Rejection Phone Call or Aiden and the Endless submission of Resumes.

I do have a plan. Is a short-term plan. I plan to send out 5-7 resumes a week. That’s as far as I have gotten. I am hoping to land at least 1 interview from this, per week. That’s as far as I have gotten. And I have only sent out 2 this week. And out of the 9 resumes I have sent out this month, I have gotten 0 interviews. So far, my plan isn’t working. And I’m not sure how to re-work my plan. Any suggestions?

As I am sitting here writing this post, I am watching Capitalism: A Love Story with Samantha and Aiden. It’s so subjective it’s making me sick! But it does have me concerned. So, I am carrying on with the job search, if nothing better than to prove Michael Moore Wrong!

I can’t sleep. Can you? What’s your secret?

Lately I have had a bout of insomnia. When I was in class, I thought it was just the stress of class that was keeping me from sleeping. The night I got my grade, I slept for 13 hours! So, I just assumed that now I don’t have the stress of class, I can start sleeping again.

And you know what they say about assuming things . . .so I reconsidered my sleep strategy. I have been cutting back on my caffeine consumption (I have had 1 caffeinated beverage in the past two days). If I have caffeine it has to be before 4 pm. I haven’t had much liquor either (with the exception of the Lady Gaga contest and tonight.) So, why can’t I sleep.

Well, new idea, I am still stressed.. Stressed about finding a job, stressed about my living situation, and stressed about moving in with my parents. Don’t get me wrong, Samantha and I are fine, I am just concerned when she is going to get a job and leave me alone in this town with my parents.

Ok . . .don’t get me wrong about my parents, either. They are just really conservative people. They eat breakfast, lunch and dinner at the same time everyday. They are both retired so they are home all the time. They don’t travel. So I will be spending many, many hours with them . . .no friends, no boys and no booze!

As I try to sleep each night (still watching episodes of Dawson’s Creek), I try to envision the life I want for myself. Where will I live, what kinds of friends will I have, what will this life look like. I think I might be getting too excited over a life I don’t have yet and a little depressed about the one in which I will be shortly living.

Oh, reality . . .you are such a b****, aren’t you? Just when I think life is about to begin, I have to move in with my parents? That’s attractive! Thanks reality for humbling me and reminding me of my place in this world. I guess that’s why western medicine has a pill for everything. DOPE ME UP!

Apparently the ABC network is introducing a show called My Generation. This show is about a handful of people who graduated in 2000 and where their lives have taken them in the 10 years since they graduated high school. Some have gone on and accomplished great things and some have just merely scraped by. Needless to say, I don’t think I will be watching this show . . .as I am already too familiar with this subject.

Since I have been getting in touch with my 15/16-year-old self, I am reminded that I am getting older. And as my 10 high school reunion is coming up (btw . . .I would rather dental surgery than go to my high school reunion. True, dental surgery isn’t fun, but at least you get drugs and jello with dental surgery. With a high school reunion you just get shame and misery . . .more jello please!) I am constantly inundated with the fact that I was/am in the generation that was going to lead us to tomorrow. We are bright and smart and gifted . . .and of course to have non-padded, gavel, rock and metal playgrounds.

True, I know several people my age that are out there doing great things for humanity, living their dreams, and otherwise good citizens. Yet, it seems that self-entitlement has not fallen on generations before mine, but more like mine. So I also know my share of that . . .well lets just say, life isn’t going the best for them.

As for my life . . .well, I am more blessed than I realize. Yet, I don’t need some high school reunion to remind me that it has taken me more than a while to finish school (I finished my undergrad in 4 years . . .my graduate degree in 2, yet it has taken me 10 years to get both and no substantial career. Not to mention, I went to high school in the South (not the Dirty South . . .just the conservative, traditional, you need a husband and babies to be happy South). So, since I am not down with the husband and kids thing, this could get ugly! Plus, there are more people there I want to avoid than to see.

Ok . . .sorry for the trip into self-pity alley. But I feel as if I haven’t accomplished anything in life really. I guess as I take my next steps into the world, I might feel better about this. In the words of Paula Cole (and yes, the theme song to Dawson’s Creek) “I don’t wanna wait, for our lives to be over, I want to know right now what will it be!” Time to head out into the world . . .any suggestions along the way?

Days to Graduation: 8

Final Grade: Apparently M.I.A.

Likelihood of Graduation: Getting slimmer by the moment

Sorry I didn’t write last night. I should have, I slept like maybe 3 hours last night. I apparently had time. Don’t know why I didn’t. However, let’s get on with our story. However, most likely the allergies that are raging here are keeping me from doing anything really. So . . .lets move on.

Semi Precious Weapons took the stage around 8:00 pm. Usually I am up for listening to any new artist or band or any genre. I however, was not taken by the sounds coming from the this band. In all honesty I think the guitarist thought he was Jimi Hendrix incarnate. However, his musical stylings came off like a bad heavy metal guitarist and ruined my first impression of this band. The next impression, wasn’t that good either. Justin Tranter the lead singer of the band seems to have a David Bowie thing going on. Like he thinks he is David Bowie . . .without the following. To me, I thought he was too gay to function. Needless to say, I would have been happier to have missed the opening act.

Ok . . .probably not fair after I dissed this band so much but here is the benefit to my doubt. First and foremost, no matter how good or bad someone is, the fact that they courage to take the stage is something more than I myself am willing to do. So props to them for that. Moving on . . .I did a little research (and by little, I mean Google in Wikipedia and a couple of other websites) about Semi Precious Weapons and their front man. According to Wikipedia, Semi Precious Weapons is a “Filthy Glamour” brand of rock music and espouse a “Dirty Showbiz” philosophy.” I would have gone with Glam Rock . . .so maybe close. All the member of the band graduated from Berklee School of Music. Tranter also took Business Management classes and graduated after 3 years with a 3.9 GPA. Tranter also has his own line of jewelry called “fettY” that is sold at Barney’s New York. (If you feel so lead, you can check it out,default,sc.html?prefn1=designer&prefv1=fettY) I did check out the jewelry line and did not find much I liked. But then again, I really didn’t like the band so I wasn’t expecting too much.

Moving on . . .after a 20 min intermission it was time for the main event. Coming out in a spectacular purple leather motorcycle jacket complete with linebacker size gold incrusted shoulders was the one and only Lady Gaga! It was AWESOME! The first was probably my favorite with all the neon lights . . .I totally want the one that says “SexyUgly.”

What can I say about this show that probably hasn’t already. Spectacular, creative, awesome, impressive . . .the list could go on and on . . .and the list will go on in part 3. Don’t you just love cliffhangers.

Days to Graduation: 10

Final Grade: Still Unknown

Likelihood of Graduating: Slim to none

As I left you a couple of days ago, my life is still up in the air. I did receive an e-mail (actually 2 e-mails) from my professor today. (She forgot half of what she wanted to say in the first one.) She wanted to know why I left out a slide out of my presentation (I incorporated it with another slide to condense the presentation, without losing the important parts) and what was the story being conveyed by my interviewee (the story was irrelevant, the purpose behind the story was more important!). With this new development, I feel pretty sealed in my fate.

Moving on . . .

A couple of my friends kinda of know what this class is doing to me physically (just for the record, I’m having problems sleeping, I’m losing my hair by the handfuls in the shower, and I binge eat as if there were no tomorrow which leads to, upset stomach and heart burn. Not to mention, if I do get any sleep I am sometimes woken up to throw up in the middle of the night, just for fun! Really it’s not fun.) so they decided I needed a little pick-me-up.

Three months ago they purchased tickets to see Lady Gaga in Kansas City. One person backed out, so instead of letting all of facebook know about the ticket, they let me get first dibs. Sometimes opportunities show themselves and while you don’t have the money you just have to take the bull by the horns and let what will be to be. I was going to see Gaga come Hell or high water (neither of which has ensued . . .yet.)

So yesterday with my friend “Danielle” we took off for KC to meet up with Aiden and Samantha. Now, I do have to give a major shout out to Aiden as he booked us a sweet hotel in KC with an awesome view of the skyline and a free shuttle to the Sprint Center!

We arrived in KC about 4:30 and headed out dinner shortly. If you are ever in KC (either Kansas or Missouri side) look up your closest Bo Ling’s . . .you won’t be sorry. After dinner and a short trip to CVS (I left all of my make-up at home . . .GRRRR!) is was time to get ready for GAGA!

Make-up . . . check, camera . . .check, tickets . . .check, outfit . . .ok . . .so at times I felt as if I was dressed appropriately for a concert, and other times . . .not so much. Ok . . .so I didn’t wrap myself in CAUTION tape, or wear 4 inch heels, or hike up my skirt to you could see the trim of my bikini wax. (Just to let you know I wore navy blue capri leggings, a lace cami under a white wife beater, and a black vest with sandels.) True I was dressed better than the average (and sometimes creative) soccer mom, but not dressed as a true Gaga fan. (i.e caution tape outfits, black leather pants and heals, miles upon miles of white chiffon and tulle with a giant wand, and don’t forget the electrical tape pasties!)

So we make it to the Sprint center about 15 mins. before the show starts. Go to the bathroom, get a drink and get to our seat just in time to see the opening act . . .Semi Precious Weapons. More on that one tomorrow, as I need to take some allergy medication and call it a night.

Sorry I haven’t posted it a couple of days . . .my life has been a bit up in the air. After the debauched audio files incident (and consequently getting one of the files restored), losing the file for my final report, and wondering if I am going to graduate, I’m a little tired and emotionally drained.

I’m still up in the air about graduation, which puts my life up in the air about everything else. Graduate school is kinda of funny about what happens when you fail a class. For those of you that don’t know, you don’t get to retake the class next semester or the next time it’s offered, you don’t get take another class and substitute the credits . . .you get kicked out. And right now I am kinda of wondering how I am going to pay off my $35,000 of student debt if I cannot use my education to get a high paying job.

I have a 3.84 GPA as of right now. And in this class I have an 83%. It’s not for lack of trying or participation. I am just trying to figure out what the fates have in store for me. And what am I going to do if I don’t pass this class.

Stay tuned . . .it will either be one amazing triumph or on amazing nervous breakdown.

If you aren’t familiar with the website, you should get to know it very well. I am providing a link for you to check it out (after you read this post of course!)

Today is very much a FML kinda day. I am supposed to graduate in 15 days, and crisis sets in. The interview files I submitted to my instructor are corrupted. Lost and gone forever. This was worth roughly 20% of my final grade.

I figure that I am probably going to be getting a B in this class . . .fine . . .it will bring down my 3.8 GPA. However, now its is looking like a low C . . .really bringing down my GPA, and will be looking fabulous on my transcripts. It will match my grades for my undergraduate economics classes and will go great with the D I got in news reporting. It’s not longer about making it to the finish line, but how well you got there.

I am trying to take this on the chin, but that’s really hard. I need this class to graduate. If I don’t pass, I don’t graduate, simple as that. I’m sure they will probably let me walk and all, but I will still need to take one class next semester to earn the credits worthy of my graduation. And I will have to deal with the class that broke me. It will be on my transcript, like a bad stain that doesn’t come out of your favorite shirt!

In a bit, I am going to take a long bath, with a glass of wine. And probably cry myself to sleep. After 9 years of higher education, I can’t believe there is one class that broke me. One class that couldn’t do what others have succeeded and failed. I will have to deal with the fact that not matter how hard I tried there is once thing that I couldn’t tackle. The tears are welling up as I type . . .time for the tub.