31 May 2002

[Last Entry Continued]

I was STEAMING last night, and I really wanted to type what I planned, but I was interrupted. So I'm sure this wont be as interesting as it was schemed to be. A co-worker, not a friend, not even somebody I would deem a friend, is getting married. Woop-de-do. At least, that's how I feel about it. My issues with this wedding started in March when I was pretty much "told" that I was expected to attend a bridal shower, which happened to fall on the same weekend as my cousin's Bat Mitvah ceremony and parties. My response to, "April 14th is the shower; see you there," was "That's my cousin's Bat Mitzvah weekend; I can't make it." I was, then, accosted by blank stares, which pretty much meant "So, I don't get it. It's only your cousin's Bat Mitzvah. You're not even Jewish." At that point I should have chimed in: "So, I don't even *like* Jill. But, I like, for the most part, my family." Damn well knowing that I was not going to show at the shower, I was totally glared at by my co-workers the following monday - namely the woman who planned the shower. And, on top of that, they took pride in talking about all "those gifts." Which was another reason I would have never shown up - I don't make nearly as much money as my coworkers. I live paycheck to paycheck, YET I was told, "Oh, by the way, she registered at Lazarus." Grrrr. SO, this wedding thing is this weekend. Initially, I had made up my mind that I was not attending, as this would require me to purchase pantyhose, yuck, and to spend a weekend in Akron, Ohio with people I'd rather not spend my entire weekend with. Oh, yeah, it would require me to buy a gift too, because, god forbid, me - the poor graduate student - not buy a gift for a soon to be doctor and his new bride. Oh gag. My boss (I like her a lot; she's the only reason I decided to go) is not taking her husband; I'll be sharing a room with her. We'll get drunk and have a decent time. I made it quite clear, however, that "the reason" I was not initially attending the wedding was because of money (that, of course, is not the entire truth). I'm starting a new job and this weekend excursion will be cutting into my already meager cash flow. I was assured that I wouldn't have to pay for shit - no room money, no gas money, no food money. I would be a freeloader. My presence, alone, was enough for my coworkers (what a joke). YESTERDAY, a coworker approaches me and asks, "How much money are you putting toward the gift?" I stuttered and said "20" WTF?? What happened to my freeloading status? My 20 bucks went toward china. Fucking china. I, the poor graduate student (reiterated for emphasis) who lives paycheck to paycheck and is not beyond donating plasma and participating in medical studies, contributed to the "china fund." And why did we (other coworkers and myself who "donated")decide to buy the china (not a lot of china, a platter - a 260 dollar platter) because she's a "doctor's wife" and she will have to "entertain" and "look respectable." I eat with plastic-ware. If I could only marry a doctor. Poor, little me. Oh, I'm also "poor" because churches terrify me. I like Old Catholic, and Catholic-looking, churches because they're "pretty." I appreciate the art. That makes me shallow. The thought of going to this wedding - a wedding for someone I don't really like or know - in a church bothers me to an insane degree. (Do I have problems?? Let me know) Yesterday, I joked around about getting married and divorcing soon after just for the gifts. Nobody thought it was funny. I also referred to the time I almost married a good friend of mine just for insurance and gift-related reasons. Nobody was amused by that. God forbid I bastardize a sacred union between man and woman. I have to continue this later

30 May 2002

[Suckered]

So, a couple months ago, I was bitching about a wedding and a bridal shower of a co-worker. I'm not going to provide a link to that entry, as I am slightly tipsy . . . wait, I'll finish this later. I swear, it gets good

25 May 2002

[New Parrot]

My friend Mayet sent me this. She's the queen of fowards and silly e-mails. A woman went to a pet shop and immediately spotted a large beautiful parrot. There was a sign on the cage that said $50.00. "Why so little," she asked the pet store owner. The owner looked at her and said, "Look, I should tell you first that this bird used to live in a house of prostitution, and sometimes it says some pretty vulgar stuff." The woman thought about this, but decided she had to have the bird anyway. She took it home and hung the bird's cage up in her living room and waited for it to say something. The bird looked around the room, then at her, and said, "New house, new madam." The woman was a bit shocked at the implication, but then thought "that's not so bad." The girls and the woman were a bit offended but then began to laugh about the situation. Moments later, the woman's husband, Keith, came home from work. The bird looked at him and said, "Hi Keith." So while I'm on the subject of fowards, I'd like to shamelessly promote this website that I've had for a couple years, "Electronic Legends" at pyrrha.org/storysite. Having been on-line for over ten years, I've collected A LOT of spam, which I've decided to archive. After taking a folklore course at U.C. two years ago, I realized that even the "folklore" we pass via e-mail holds some significance just as the stories and legends passed between generations and cultures do. So if some of you could help me out by checking out my site (it's ALWAYS under construction and doesn't have all the stuff I've archived . . . yet) and sending me your favorite spam, I'd appreciate it. I'll give you credit. And one of these days, when I publish some hideous dissertation on the cultural value of these emails and fowards, what I call "electronic legends," I'll make sure to give you credit. Thanks!

23 May 2002

[What a Week, So Far]

Earlier this week, I found out that five students(four sophomores and one freshman)I tutored, who previously failed the 9th grade writing proficiency test on multiple occasions, passed with flying colors! Okay, so I hate my job one minute, but the next, I get happy when I actually help others out. I'm such a cheeseball. In other news, I busted this girl big time for plagiarizing. Today, my department read and evaluated about 150 senior writing portfolios. Every year, there's at least one person who has, as part of their portfolio, a Cliff-note analysis or Sparknote-type paper. Moments ago, I found our winner of this year's prize for being a cheater. A stupid one, no less. I was able to type in one phrase from her paper at Yahoo.com, and Violla! the essay appeared, like magic, in several free essay websites. Stupid girl. Like *I* can't spot an Internet paper miles away. Hellooooo. I work in a computer lab. I fix computers. I spend farrrr too much time on the web. AND I've busted college kids for the same things several times. What kills me is that this girl KNOWS these things. So tomorrow, I get to dispense the bad news to the poor scholar, a senior who is in danger of failing as it is. Life is grand.

19 May 2002

[Poor, not Picky]

And I'll tell you why. Earlier today, while doing laundry, I noticed that there was a perfectly good ribbed tank-top (not the thin underwear type, but a thick old-navy type) in the trash. I decided to pick it up. Now, before you say, "ew," let me remind you that I was doing laundry, and the garbage bin next to the dryer is filled with nothing but dryer sheets and lint - no nasty shit. T-shirt was in perfectly good condition. No holes. No pit stains. However, it was pink, as it was probably unwittingly put in the dark load with a menacing red shirt. I guess its former, disgruntled owner was either a male or someone who could easily blow 15 bucks on an Old Navy t-shirt (I, on the other hand, cannot afford such "luxuries"). So what do I do? I shake out the lint and throw it in with my load. Granted, it still has a pink tinge. So what? I have a new, very comfortable tank top.

18 May 2002

[Brrr . . .]

It's May, right. Almost June. No? Why the Hell am I freezing? This apocalyptic weather really needs to stop. Eighty one day, forty the next. Shit. I'm cold.

13 May 2002

[*]

Got my grades today via internet (I won't see my actual report card or transcripts until I pay my library fines). I finished graduate school with a 3.7. Not too shabby.

13 May 2002

[*]

Is anyone else grossed out by: 1) Botox Parties AND/OR 2) The fact that the person, administering the Botox on the commercial I just saw, was not wearing any gloves.

10 May 2002

[*]

I want to leave. Quit this place. But I can't afford to, and besides the school year is almost over - less than a month to go. I guess I ought to bring folks up to speed. I am a departmental assistant at a high school, which I'll keep unnamed. I hold a BA in English, an M.Ed. (Master of Education) in Secondary Ed. and English Lit., and I've just completed the coursework for my MA in English Lit. (I'm taking the comprehensive exam in the fall). I don't, however, have a teaching liscense. I don't have a B.S. in Education - a watered down B.A, which replaces foreign languages and upper level courses with "Glitter and Paste 101" and "How to Keep a Grade Book 201." So, according to the state, I cannot be a "real" high school teacher. Trust me, this does not break my heart, though I guess it's supposed to. I am 24. I am short. I look very young for my age. Kids here try to walk all over me. They call me a liar. They don't listen to my simple requests. They ignore rules. I'm forced to be a bitch. I work in computer lab all day, helping kids with drafting, proofreading, editing, word processing. The kids that want to kick my ass, the kids who roll their eyes at me when I tell them to put their cell phones away (I *should* be taking them away), the kids who blatantly disrespect me, are the ones who want help. They call me a bitch but ask me to edit a paper - all in the same, fucking breath. Today I went off on some kid for calling me a liar. He was in here surfing the web, when he should have been reading (his teacher sent him over. Also, keep in mind that I can't babysit everyone - this place is large, and at the time, there were 50 kids in here). Rather than being a studious child he was: 1)not doing his work, 2)disobeying his teacher's orders, 3)surfing the web, 4)wandering around the room, 5)ignoring me when I told him to leave. I told him to go back to class if he wasn't going to be productive here. He ignored me. Continued to surf the web. I went to get his teacher. Then the ignoramus proceded to tell his teacher that I was a liar. That I had no clue. That If I ever confronted him again, "it would be on." Granted, this was not nearly as amusing as the time some asshole threatened (multiple times) "to whack [my] ass." Granted, not all the kids are like this. And they are, after all, just inbred teenagers. And this kind of behavior is all they really know. Sad sad sad world. I don't know what's worse: the mongrels I work with here, or the snobby, rich kids at the university I taught at last semester. Hell, they're all a waste of oxygen.

09 May 2002

[*]

ick. sore throat. again. It feels the same way it did as I was coming down with the croup back in March. What a delight that was. I hope this little bout is nothing - perhaps a reaction to the sudden change in temperature.

08 May 2002

[*]

well, I survived. Seventeen weeks of hell - all over with. My exams are completed, turned in. There's nothing I can do but wait for my grades. That is, if I pay my library fines. (That's what online grades are for). I got about two and a half hours of sleep last night, turned in my feminism exam this morning (which, unfortunately was not reflective of my best efforts), and went to work jacked up on coffee. I managed to sleep a couple hours this afternoon. I'm lost. I don't know what to do with myself. No homework. No exams to fret about. No worries about next semester. There is no "next semester." I am taking a comprehensive exam in November. But I'll study for that over the summer at a liesurely pace, while I'm working some no-brainer job. A book a week. Nothing stressful. I'm going to give myself a week or so to recoup before sending resumes out for fall work. I'm 98 percent sure that I'll be teaching at UC this fall. But I'm open to other opportunities. I'm contemplating whether or not I want to work full time. I probably will, after all, UC offers great benefits packages from what I've heard. Until then, I'm going to play with photoshop, drink beer, design a few sites, get something pierced, go out more often, hunt for a new car (and perhaps a new place to live) and amuse myself with random, stupid stuff. But first, I seriously need to clean my apartment. It just occured to me this morning as I was getting together my final exam, that I have been living like a slob for the last semester. Crumpled rough drafts, research print outs and xeroxes, empty glasses and bottles, overflowing waste bins,dust everywhere, dirty clothes, grimy floors, yellow post-it notes with outdated reminders, cobwebbed ceilings . . . my office looks like a war zone.

05 May 2002

[ . . . and on an irrelevant note . . . ]

My new neighbor sneezes at least twenty times a day - loudly. And, on top of that, they sound "cartoonish" like the way Homer Simpson would sneeze. Very odd. I'm going to slip some Sudafed under his door.

04 May 2002

[*]

Got my hair cut yesterday. Definitely the highlight of my week. I wish I could iron my hair as well as Emily did. I have four short papers to write, and an exam to take next tuesday. My semester - and my MA coursework - will be completed. I get to look foward to my comps in november. Oh happy day.