With Love… From Phoenix

It’s 10:40pm and I’m here because I can’t sleep because I’m too busy over-analyzing everything.

Have you ever looked at a job description and thought, “Wow, it’s as if they wrote this just for me!”?

I had that interview monday.  I don’t think I got the job.  This whole big thing is just depressing.  I fully understand and appreciate there are better, smarter, more well-suited people for available jobs than me.  And that they deserve the job.  But when will I be the perfect candidate?  Will it ever be my turn?

So anyway, about this interview.  It was with the same place that I was laid off from, but a different department.  I want the job.  Badly.  The good news is that one of the interviewers knew me from my prior job.  The bad news is that the interview was like a standardized test from hell.

We all know I’m crazy, but to me, an interview is like a first date.  You meet someone, ask questions, see how things go and if you will see them again.  I think good interviews are more like conversations, there is give and take, back and forth, and both parties get to decide if it’s a good fit.  HOWEVER, this interview, like one I had a few months ago, consisted of less than ten pre-determined questions each asked by a different person in a round-table like fashion.  The questions will be scored.  Yes, scored.

It would save everybody time if they just made the candidates sit down and take their little exam and ask a question or two on the way out.  It was just awful.  There is a reason I’m not in graduate school – I don’t like tests!  Needless to say, the kinds of questions they asked were not ones where you could highlight your experience or really discuss what you bring to the table.  Is this some sort of new interview style that I’m not aware of?

There were 7 other interviewees.  I’m hoping they sucked at the round table as much as I think I did.  I don’t have a good feeling, but that’s rather meaningless, since all the good feelings I’ve had in the past have been fruitless.

I was friend with this girl, Kirstin, in college.  She graduated with me and married a guy from our school, Ben.  I didn’t know Ben, but I knew of him.  He is a nice guy.  They have a baby a little younger than ET.  Kirstin recently posted on her Facebook that her husband was diagnosed with a brain tumor.  That alone is shocking, he’s so young and healthy.  They recently got back the results of his biopsy and he has a grade 4 glioblastoma, which has a horrible prognosis.

she keeps a blog about their story and his treatment: www.hopeforben.blogspot.com

If any of you are the praying type, add them to your list.  If you have a few extra dollars laying around, consider donating to his benefit fund to help pay for his treatment.

Not much is going on here. I still have this damn cast on my leg. Still don’t have a job.

I did have a job interview where I used to work. It went pretty well, so we’ll see.

Things like that have made me think about the whole blog/censorship issue. I really admire how honest Heather is in her blog. Part of me wants to keep mine pretty happy/clean, you know, in case my mom reads it. Part of me wants to say, fuck it, I should be able to say what I want to say. I still worry a little bit. Deep down, I think as long as I’m not posting something threatening or totally psycho, if a prospective boss were to find it and read it, there is nothing on here that would disqualify me from a job [other than personality conflicts]. And if that person were to disqualify me for a job solely on that then I don’t think I’d want to work for them anyway (right??).

Anyway. I’m thinking about painting my living room and kitchen. Not that you care!

I’m also thinking about Thanksgiving. Already. I’m so excited! We invited family again, and hopefully some of them will take us up on the invite this year. I have fancy plates (thanks MIL from last christmas!) and they are begging to be taken out of the box to be loved on the table. I’m also excited about Halloween. I don’t really have anything new to put out in the yard and I don’t have a costume for the baby either but there is still time. All the baby costumes are like little fleece sack type things and it’s really too hot for that here. Plus I think he’d get pissed if his legs were stuck in a sack together.

How do you learn how to not take things personally? I sent out an email to some people before I left my job, it had my new contact info and a “thanks for being cool and I will miss you” kinda thing. French Christine did not email me back. It makes me sad. Somehow there was a misunderstanding a while back and she broke up with me, friendwise. She had recommended some movies to me before that happened so I put them on my Netflix queue. Every once in a while one of them pops up and I watch it; they’re usually really good, unusual movies:

Triplets of Belleville
Grande Illusion
Good Bye Lenin!

Anyway, I wish I could talk to her about them because she is wicked smart but since we apparently broke up I have nobody to talk to about them. I know I didn’t do anything wrong to offend her so it’s really her problem, not mine. But I still take it a little personally. Boo.

Oh and my kid is 8 months old. He’s pretty cute now:

This doesn’t really affect me since I’m voting for the democrats anyway (sorry, dad!) but the news is saying that VP nominee Sarah Palin’s 17 year old daughter is pregnant.  And she’s keeping the baby.  And she’s going to marry the father.

WTF?  17 year olds have no business having babies…yeah it happens, it’s not usually a “choice” they make.  BUT getting married is always a choice.  I feel like the Republicans are going to use this to be all uppity about the whole pro-life thing.  They keep emphasizing that she is keeping the baby.  OK, good for her.  But to suggest that a [pregnant] child get married is absolutely disgusting. 

This sends a message to young people that marriage is a “fix.”  That it makes things easier, that you need it to have babies, or that by getting married, it magically abolishes the sin of unwed/teen pregnancy.  How many girls will get pregnant on purpose to try and make a boyfriend marry them?  It’s working for Jamie Lynn Spears, and it’s going to work for Bristol Palin, right?  Marriage is more than just work and compromise; it’s something you put thought – not guilt – into before making the plunge.


Posted on: August 30, 2008

The only thing worse than breaking your foot 2 weeks before being laid off while having to care for your fast-moving 7 month old because daycare lady has a ‘restraining order issue’ is doing all the above while sick.  Ugh. 

This week I also realized our house is worth 50K less than what we paid for it.  Sorta similar to PhoenixHearse’s rant but our house is crappier than hers so that explains the disparity. (note to phoenixhearse, i tried to link to your post but i can’t seem to get URLs for individual posts [??])  I was thinking 10K, maaayyybe 20K.  Sad.  We are gonna be here for a while!

I hate Nicholas Cage.  I just saw a commercial for his new movie and it looks stupid.  He looks stupid.  That is all.


Heh, barely!  I know it’s been a while.  Here is a recap of the past few months:

  • I’ve seen both a therapist and psychiatrist and I’m doing much better
  • I like my kid a lot more now, he’s really cute and more fun to be around
  • i finally finished painted my damn kitchen cabinets this summer
  • my job is ending at the end of this month
  • my job is kinda already over because i broke my foot and can’t work so i’m using my sick time

So yes, I broke my foot.  When I was a kid I thought having a cast might be fun, everyone could sign it, it would be so cool.  IT IS NOT COOL.  While it is oddly comfortable in there, I’m sure as my leg hair grows and funk starts breeding my comfort level will decline.  Oh and I can’t bear ANY weight on it, so my body is going to be come some sort of one-sided freakshow from the waist down when this is all said and done. 

People keep asking me this and it’s really shameful.  I took one step.  That’s it.  My ligaments are pretty loose in my feet so I’ve never sprained my ankle; they just turn all the way and it feels like a nice stretch.  SOMEHOW I turned my foot and the outside edge of it got smacked on my concrete patio as I was going to get the laundry off the clothesline. 

When I was in high school I broke my elbow – but I didn’t need a cast.  There were parents out of town, rambuctious teenage boys and a trampoline (no, nothing dirty!) involved, so it’s pretty easy to imagine what happened.  But the foot, it’s just embarrassing.

Ah yes.  I have impeccable timing.  As I mentioned above, I broke the elbow my senior year of highschool.  TWO WEEKS before prom.   At the time that seemed like the most horrible thing ever but in retrospect it wasn’t really that bad.  Prom wasn’t even that fun. 

BUT THE FOOT!  I had ~ 3 weeks left at my job and I had a bunch of stuff to wrap up and I really like to organize/catch up/clean out stuff at the beginning of the semester.  Not gonna happen.  I have to wear this cast for 6 weeks.  My brother is getting married in 4 weeks.  Mmmhmmm.  So much for finding a cute dress to wear…I need to find a WHEELCHAIR instead.  Since my job is ending, my health insurance will be changing.  Guess what, it’s going to be a LOT more expensive.  If my foot doesn’t magically repair itself in the allotted 6 weeks, I will require a screw in my bone to fix it.  !!!  As if that isn’t bad enough, I have to chase after a wild 7 month old boy who is hell-bent on crawling/climbing everywhere and putting everything in his mouth. 

THANK GOD FOR DAYCARE LADY.  I have her full-time until I exhaust my sick/vacation pay at work and then I’m in trouble for realsies!

So that’s what I’m up to now.  As of Sept 1st I will officially be a SAHG [stay at home gimpmom].  I’m still looking for a job and we’ll see what happens.  Since I hate daytime TV I will be plowing through my Netflix and the local library and if you’re so inclined you may check out my Goodreads list.

If you drive a hummer, i think you are a douche.
If said hummer has a vanity plate that says something like “MegaX,” you are even douchier.
AND if you insist on parking it badly just to get a close spot, you are the douchiest person of all time.

On a related note, I hate it when people don’t park in the lines.  Or drive in the lines.

Also related: vanity plates ->

on a Saturn Vue: “VUEHICLE” = not clever
on a balding man’s convertible: “DENTIST” = not clever
on a minivan: “MY3XYS” = clever

Do they really expect us to believe that Eva Longoria or Heather Locklear use drugstore hair dye in a box?  Idontthinkso!


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