Job Search

Looking at job listings has become my porn. I sneak onto Craigslist at work and drool over the graphic design openings. I bookmark page after page of description on my home computer. When I wake up in the morning, the only thing that gets me out of bed is wondering what new listings have been posted.

I'm not just looking for graphic design jobs. I've looked at office administration listings, personal assistant descriptions (replying to your emails, paying bills online, syncing your iPod and Blackberry???), even clicked a link or two for newborn photography. I'm not picky. I'm excited, actually. The time has come where, once I get my application in and go through the interview process (fingers crossed!), the semester will be over. So I need to start polishing up my resume and get myself out there.

Today, surfing through the ads, I found THE PERFECT JOB.



I blacked out the email address so you can't apply before me.

"That store looked like a candy store!"

Last night, I had many dreams starring an orange octopus.

Except he was not graceful and pretty like that guy pictured above. He wasn't even an octopus, he was just some strange octopus-creature hybrid. He could chase people in water and on land. In water, I had to swim as fast as I could so his long orange legs wouldn't grab me and suckle me to death (or whatever an octopus would do to human prey). On land, I had to run and run and run until my heart was pounding and I couldn't catch my breath. I would throw sticks at his head, but some of his many legs would pop out and he'd catch them. I'd bash him over the head with tree limbs, but then I'd be too close to him, and he could grab me. I even kicked at him a time or two, but that cost me valuable seconds as I tried to speed up to widen the distance between us.

He even followed me to the mall, where I rode in a horse-drawn carriage on a search for the candy store. The horse trotted past the store, so I had to hop out of the carriage and as soon as I turned around - yup, you got it. There was the octopus, looking strangely human, standing on two legs. (Though he clearly wasn't human, because his legs were extra thick - that's what happens when you have 8 legs masquerading as two.)

It was realistic at the time, and I could see the creature so vividly. I Googled "orange octopus creature" and didn't find much. I remember being quite certain upon awakening that I could find a picture of this exact creature in National Geographic. If only I could draw... then you'd see what he looked like.

Let's do a composite. Take the guy above, but make him more menacing:


Yeah! Now add angry eyes, like this:


Can you see him in your head? Scary, right?

I feel like I'm getting a little revenge on him by eating orange jello. Except, for the record, Snack Pack does not make JELLO. They make Gel Snacks.

Yum.


On an unrelated note, Happy Birthday Steven Tyler!

Check out this guy's site: IShootShows.com. I kind of want to be him.

Newness + Adventures

This past week, I made my first expedition to IKEA. I've never had a store nearby, and after seeing the somewhat-unstable furniture they produce in my living room, I didn't think I'd care much for going.

Good god, was I wrong.
What an amazing store! So much furniture! Rickety, uncomfortable couches in every style and, to help you forget the first two characteristics I mentioned, every color! Even after sitting on a couch that seemed to be made of wood and one-ply toilet paper, I still wanted to buy it, just because it was patterned with every bright color you could imagine.

It was really cool to see the apartment setups. They tell you how much square footage was used, and then you could see how to make the most of your space with mirrored wardrobes, hanging shelves, and entertainment centers that house more books that you could imagine. (Most of their books, I noticed, were Jewel's A Night Without Armor.)

Please note, these apartment layouts are for married couples ONLY. Do you hear me? Oh, you don't believe me? Well, that's what the sign says:

And signs don't lie.

I liked standing in the kitchen layouts, pretending I had my own Food Network show.

I decided, since spring is now upon us, that I needed a new bed set. I didn't want to move my big bulky comforter when I trekked north, so I'd been sleeping on teal sheets with a fleece blanket. Now I have a bright, light bed set for the warmer months:


This is going to make me sound like such a girl, but this ruffly blanket is the BEST.


The fun didn't end after checkout. As we were leaving the lot, we saw this genius:

Maybe I'm wrong, but that one cord doesn't seem to be enough...

Talk about smart drivers...

That's what I get for moving to the nation's capital.

She's got style, she's got grace

I like to present myself as a tough cookie. A hardass. I want to pretend that nothing bothers me, nothing grosses me out, and I never get scared. In reality, I have a handful of fears. Irrational fears.

+ Rubber bands popping in my face
+ Getting shot when walking on the outer edge of the sidewalk - Experiments have shown this is true in Memphis ONLY - but anywhere in Memphis.
+ Getting shot when passing a car on the left
+ Walking over sidewalk grates
+ Automatic doors not opening - the English building on campus is notorious for this. I wait for a crowd and then slip in once they activate the doors. I blame "Bart Sells His Soul." You know what I'm talkin' 'bout.
+ Touching metal in the winter (or anything else that causes static electricity) - Especially when I know it's coming... I'll do ANYTHING to not touch a door handle when it's cold.
+ Getting in a wreck - I always think I'm going to wreck, every time I drive. Not because I'm a bad driver, but because everyone else is. I thought Memphis was bad, but the assholes up here...
+ Parking garages - I think it's all the action movies I watched with my brother as a kid. Didn't they all have a chase scene in a parking garage? Then being in one myself... which transitions nicely to the next two:
+ Being chased - As a kid, I used to practice running at top speed from our driveway to our next door neighbors', in case I was being chased by a kidnapper.
+ Vampires - Only the ones who live in B's building, and those who try to get in my bedroom door at night.

Nowhere on that list does dancing appear, am I right? Scan back over it again, I'll wait.

No. Dancing is not on that list. Because I love to dance! I dance in my room, at my desk, in the shower, in the car, in the kitchen. According to video footage, I dance when performing karaoke - before the music even starts. Hell, I made up crazy dances as we walked the streets of New York City. AND I took part in a High School Musical parade in Disneyworld. We were in a store and I heard the beat and rushed out, started dancing right there on the sidewalk. No one else was moving, no one gave indications of being alive; clearly, they just wanted the parade to pass so they could cross the street. I can't even imagine what I must have looked like, clapping along, a broad smile on my face. I must have been channeling Elaine, because I'm pretty sure I did some little kicks, and my arms were definitely akimbo. But you know what? That High School Musical character saw me dancing, and it brought a smile to his face. (Mocking? NO. No. Definitely not. No.) He pointed to me, and when I incorporated my return-point into a jaunty dance move, he twirled right on over to me and gave me a high five. Proudest moment of my life, y'all. I am a superstar.

But I have a sad announcement. After Saturday night, I have a new fear to add to that list. Club dancing.

In my defense, club dancing should not actually count as dancing. There's no room to flap your elbows if the place is at capacity. You can't wave your arms like a wild windmill if some strange, sweaty guy is grinding on you. And kicking your leg up, I learned, is definitely frowned upon. So what's the point of going out if you're just going to be smushed up against other people, barely able to shake your ass or shimmy your shoulders? Rest assured, I'll keep dancing, but it will be anywhere but a club.




NOTICE! I transferred everything to my Google account, so old comments on your blogs will NOT link back to me here - I deleted my old profile because it was linked to my photography website's email and that spam was stupid. But my blog is still here, it's still the same - love it.

So long, Sketch Writing

My Sketch Writing class ended today on the highest note possible. We had a school-wide showcase, with twenty whole minutes allotted for my class to do a read-through. (It should be noted that I am not being sarcastic - we were told that it's actually rare that a sketch class participate in a showcase. Usually schools only focus on Improv and performances, so I'm glad we had this chance.) After fumbling around and getting everything together, we did a brief rehearsal and then waited in the wings for our slot. We read in the theater where the Improv contest has been going on - black walls and floor, no scenery behind us, bright lights shining down so only the first row of the audience is visible. I knew they were there, though. I could tell the house was full because of all the fucking laughter!

Oh, you should have heard it. It was glorious! My sketch, a pseudo-commercial, was up 2nd. It felt so amazing to have a room full of people laugh at stuff I had written on a whim - though it had been workshopped, and was on its third revision. I had speaking parts in all but one of my classmates' sketches; even getting laughs from performing words that weren't mine was an awesome high.

I could rave about this class forever. I could write about how I want to take more classes through the school, how helpful my teachers/classmates/workshops were. I could lay out my hopes to get a writing group together with some of these people. Instead, I'm going to show pictures from the non-traditional elementary school where we held class. Because if pictures are worth a thousand words, these might be worth twice that.

I've already posted these two, but I gotta show them off again.





This box was flattened on top of a garbage can, and caught
my eye since I'm a tutor at school... sorry, a tootr.


More guidelines:


Some nice old school photo-manipulation work on a poster in the lunchroom:



Homemade sombrero. Learning about different cultures?

Aaaand, my favorite... an inspirational collage in the classroom we used:


Farewell, Sketch Writing class. I hope we're not apart for long. Rest easy knowing I will never stop being a goofball - tonight, for example, is karaoke. "She's a Lady." We have outfits planned and everything. I'm thinking this will top our previous endeavors: "Gold Digger" and last night's "Hot in Herre".

Love on a rollercoaster

Though it wasn't necessarily the highlight of my trip, (since I got to see Frank and Tracy, Lauren and Lilly / meet Donald and Goofy and Buzz and Woody and Sully and Mike Wazowski! / have loads of fun otherwise), I'm going to blog about the Rock 'n' Roller Coaster. Because it. is. AWESOME. And I'll always be obsessed with Aerosmith. And it was one of my Goals for Life*.


It goes without saying that this was the first ride we went on when we hit the park that day. I didn't even know where it actually was, but I started making a beeline - Aerosmith intuition? We got FastPasses (twice), which enable you to come back to a ride at a certain time and bypass the crowd, but that first time we also stood in line. I couldn't just see the ride and then walk away and wait "patiently" HA! for our time slot.



Standing in line that first time, I regressed to being thirteen again. I despised all the others waiting, certain that they weren't the hardcore fan I was. I might have pushed and shoved a little bit, and ran to get a good view in the video room. I was excited, hopping from foot to foot, dancing to the soundtrack, overwhelming B with little-known facts (though he humored me, asked questions, and pretended to be in awe of my vast knowledge. If only I could learn and retain information like this for any other subject, I'd be a genius). I felt like my tattoo should be the ultimate FastPass.

See, they even had it in the ride!
The good thing about waiting in line was that you could watch the ride take off - meaning I learned when the camera took your picture, and could make faces accordingly.

It's honestly the best roller coaster I've been on - and I'm not being biased. It's FAST - you take off from the starting point going 0 - 60mph in an instant! Then you're in a pitch black room, speeding along, taking sharp turns and twisting upside down. I like that it's all inside, and all dark, because you're completely disoriented and the ride seems even wilder.


Why was I the only one at the private party?!
Who wouldn't want to rock out with that face?
We rode it thrice. I wanted to ride more, but all good things must come to an end. And this good thing came to an end in a gift shop, as do all rides Disney. I was forced to inspect shelf after shelf of never-before-seen Aerosmith merchandise - this coming from a girl who has enough Aero shirts/hoodies/hats to wear for over three weeks straight, without repeating. I got a rock 'n' roll hoodie:

and a super cool shirt:

I love the irony!

*You may think it's a sad goal. I think it's good I have easily obtainable, yet still enjoyable, goals on my list.